Chapter 18

President Wilson Appeals to the Senate Too Late

The next day the Administration completely reversed its policy. Almost

the first Senate business was an announcement on the floor by Senator

Jones, Chairman of the Suffrage Committee, that the suffrage amendment

would be considered in the Senate September 26th. And Senator Overman,

Chairman of the Rules Committee, rather shyly remarked to our

legislative chairman that he had been “mistaken yesterday.” It was “now

in the legislative program.” The Senate still stood 6Q votes for and 34

against the amendment—2 votes lacking. The President made an effort

among individual Democrats to secure them. But it was too feeble an

effort and he failed.

Chairman Jones took charge of the measure on the floor. The debate

opened with a long and eloquent. speech by Senator Vardaman of

Mississippi, Democrat, in support of the amendment. “My estimate of

woman,” said he, in conclusion, “is well expressed in the words

employed by a distinguished author who dedicated his book to a ‘Little

mountain, a great meadow, and a woman,’ ‘To the mountain for the sense

of time, to the meadow for the sense of space, and of everything.’”

Senator McCumber of North Dakota, Republican, followed with a curious

speech. His problem was to explain why, although opposed to suffrage,

he would vote for the amendment. Beginning with the overworked “cave

man” and “beasts of the forests,” and down to the present day, “the

male had always protected the female” He always would! Forgetting

recent events in the Capital, he went so far as to say, “ . . . In our

courts she ever finds in masculine nature an asylum of protection, even

though she may have committed great wrong. While the mind may be

convinced beyond any doubt, the masculine heart finds it almost

impossible to pronounce the word ‘guilty’ against a woman.” Scarcely

had the galleries ceased smiling at this idea when he treated them to a

novel application of the biological theory of inheritance. “The

political field,” he declared, “always has been and probably always

will be an arena of more or less bitter contest. The political battles

leave scars as ugly and lacerating as the physical battles, and the

more sensitive the nature the deeper and more lasting the wound. And as

no man can enter this contest or be a party to it and assume its

responsibilities without feeling its blows and suffering its wounds,

much less can woman with her more emotional and more sensitive nature.

“But . . . you may ask why should she be relieved from the scars and

wounds of political contest? Because they do not affect her alone but

are transmitted through her to generations yet to come . . . . “

The faithful story of the sinking ship was invoked by the Senator from

North Dakota. One might almost imagine after listening to Congressional

debates for some years that traveling on sinking ships formed a large

part of human experience. “Fathers, sons, and brothers,” said the

Senator in tearful voice, “guarding the lifeboats until every woman

from the highest to the lowest has been made safe, waving adieu with a

smile of cheer on their lips, while the wounded vessel slowly bears

them to a strangling death and a watery tomb, belie the charge . . “

that woman needs her citizenship as a form of protection.

In spite of these opinions, however, the Senator was obliged to vote

for the amendment because his state had so ordered.

Senator Hardwick of Georgia, Democrat, felt somewhat betrayed that the

suffrage plank in the platform of his party in 1916, recommending state

action, should be so carelessly set aside. “There is not a Democratic

Senator present,” said Mr. Hardwick, “who does not know the history

that lies back of the adoption of that plank. There is not a Democratic

Senator who does not know that the plank was written here in Washington

and sent to the convention and represented the deliberate voice of the

administration and of the party on this question, which was to remit

this question to the several States for action . . . .

“The President of the United States . . . was reported to have sent

this particular plank . . .from Washington, supposedly by the hands of

one of his Cabinet officers.” The fact that his own party and the

Republican party were both advancing on suffrage irritated him into

denouncing the alacrity with which “politicians and senators are trying

to get on the band wagon first.”

Senator McKellar of Tennessee, Democrat, reduced the male superiority

argument to simple terms when he said: “ . . . Taking them by and

large, there are brainy men and brainy women, and that is about all

there is to the proposition.”

Our armies were sweeping victorious toward Germany. There was round on

round of eloquence about the glories of war. Rivers of blood flowed.

And always the role of woman was depicted as a contented binding of

wounds. There were those who thought woman should be rewarded for such

service. Others thought she ought to do it without asking anything in

return. But all agreed that this was her role. There was no woman’s

voice in that body to protest against the perpetuity of such a rôle.

The remarks of Senator Reed of Missouri, anti-suffrage Democrat, typify

this attitude. “. . . Women in my state believe in the old-fashioned

doctrine that men should fight the battles on the red line; that men

should stand and bare their bosoms to the iron hail; and that back of

them, if need be, there shall be women who may bind up the wounds and

whose tender hands may rest upon the brow of the valiant soldier who

has gone down in the fight.

“But, sir, that is woman’s work, and it has been woman’s work always .

. . . The woman who gave her first born a final kiss and blessed him on

his way to battle,” had, according to the Senator from Missouri, earned

a “crown of glory . . . gemmed with the love of the world.”

And with Senator Walsh of Montana, Democrat, “The women of America have

already written a glorious page in the history of the greatest of wars

that have vexed the world. They, like Cornelia, have given, and freely

given, their jewels to their country.”

Some of us wondered.

Senator McLean of Connecticut, anti-suffrage Republican, flatly stated

“that all questions involving declarations of war and terms of peace

should be left to that sex which must do the fighting and the dying on

the battlefield.” And he further said that until boys between 18 and 21

who had just been called to the colors should ask for the vote, “their

mothers should be and remain both proud and content” without it. He

concluded with an amusing account of the history of the ballot box.

“This joint resolution,” he said, “goes beyond the seas and above the

clouds. It attempts to tamper with the ballot box, over which mother

nature always has had and always will have supreme control; and such

attempts always have ended and always will end in failure and

misfortune.”

Senator Phelan of California, Democrat, made a straightforward,

intelligent speech.

Senator Beckham of Kentucky, Democrat, deplored the idea that man was

superior to woman. He pleaded “guilty to the charge of Romanticism.” He

said, “But I look upon woman as superior to man.” Therefore he could

not trust her with a vote. He had the hardihood to say further, with

the men of the world at each other’s throats, . . . “Woman is the

civilizing, refining, elevating influence that holds man from

barbarism.” We charged him with ignorance as well as romanticism when

he said in closing, “It is the duty of man to work and labor for woman;

to cut the wood, to carry the coal, to go into the fields in the

necessary labor to sustain the home where the woman presides and by her

superior nature elevates him to higher and better conceptions of life.”

Meanwhile Senator Shafroth of Colorado, Democrat, lifelong advocate of

suffrage, was painstakingly asking one senator after another, as he had

been for years, “Does not the Senator believe that the just powers of

government are derived from the consent of the governed?” and then—“But

if you have the general principle acknowledged that the just powers of

government are derived from the consent of the governed.” . . . and so

forth. But the idea of applying the Declaration of Independence to

modern politics fairly put them to sleep.

These samples of senatorial profundity may divert, outrage, or bore us,

but they do not represent the real battle. It is not that the men who

utter these sentiments do not believe them. More is the pity, they do.

But they are smoke screens—mere skirmishes of eloquence or foolishness.

They do not represent the motives of their political acts.

The real excitement began when Senator Pittman of Nevada, Democrat,

attempted to reveal to the senators of his party the actual seriousness

of the political crisis in which the Democrats were now involved. He

also attempted to shift the blame for threatened defeat of the

amendment to the Republican side of the chamber. There was a note of

desperation in his voice, too, since he knew that President Wilson had

not up to that moment won the two votes lacking. The gist of Senator

Pittman’s remarks was this: The Woman’s Party has charged the Senate

Woman Suffrage Committee, which is in control of the Democrats, and the

President himself, with the responsibility fob obstructing a vote on

the measure. “I confess,” said he, that this is “having its effect as a

campaign argument” in the woman suffrage states.

Senator Wolcott of Delaware, Democrat, interrupted him to ask if this

was “the party that has been picketing here in Washington?” Senator

Pittman, having just paid this tribute to our campaign in the West,

hastened to say that it was, but that there was another association,

the National American Woman Suffrage Association, which had always

conducted its campaign in a “lady-like—modest—and intelligent way” and

which had “never mixed in politics.”

Waving a copy of the Suffragist in the air, Senator Pittman began his

attempt to shift responsibility to the Republican side, for the

critical condition of the amendment. He denounced the Republicans for

caucusing on the amendment and deciding unanimously to press for a

vote, when they the Republicans] knew there were two votes lacking. He

scored us for having given so much publicity to the action of the

caucus and declared with vehemence that a “trick” had been executed

through Senator Smoot which he would not allow to go unrevealed.

Senator Pittman charged that the Republicans had promised enough votes

to pass the amendment and that upon that promise the Democrats had

brought the measure on the floor; that the Republicans thereupon

withdrew enough votes to cause the defeat of the amendment. Whether or

not this was true, at any rate, as Senator Smoot pointed out, the

Democratic Chairman in charge of the measure could at any moment send

the measure back to Committee, safe from immediate defeat. This was

true, but not exactly a suggestion to be welcomed by the Democrats.

“Yes,” replied Senator Pittman, “and then if we move to refer it back

to the committee, the Senator from Utah would say again, ‘The Democrats

are obstructing the passage of this amendment . . . . We told you all

the time they wanted to kill it.’ . . . If we refer it back to the

committee, then we will be charged, as we have been all the time in the

suffrage states, with trying to prevent a vote on it, and still the

Woman’s Party campaign will go on as it is going on now; and if we vote

on it they will say: ‘We told you the Democrats would kill it, because

the President would not make 332 on his side vote for it’.”

That was the crux of the whole situation. The Democrats had been

manaeuvered into a position where they could neither afford to move to

refer the amendment back to the committee, nor could they afford to

press it to a losing vote. They were indeed in an exceedingly

embarrassing predicament.

Throughout hours of debate, Senator Pittman could not get away from the

militants. Again and again, he recited our deeds of protest, our

threats of reprisal, our relentless strategy of holding his party

responsible for defeat or victory.

“I should like the Senator,” interpolated Senator Poindexter of

Washington, Republican, “so long as he is discussing the action of the

pickets, to explain to the Senate whether or not it is the action of

the pickets . . . the militant . . . woman’s party, that caused the

President to change his attitude on the subject. Was he coerced into

supporting this measure—after he had for years opposed it—because he

was picketed? When did the President change his attitude? If it was not

because he was picketed, will the Senator explain what was the cause of

the change in the President’s attitude?”

Mr. Pittman did not reply directly to these questions.

Senator Reed of Missouri, anti-Administration Democrat, consumed hours

reading into the Congressional Record various press reports of militant

activities. He dwelt particularly upon the news headlines, such as,

“Great Washington Crowd Cheers Demonstration at White House by National

Woman’s Party.” . . .

“Suffragists Burn Wilson ‘Idle Words’ . . .”

“Money Instead of Jeers Greet Marchers and Unique Protest Against

Withholding Vote” . . .

“Apply Torch to President’s Words . . . Promise to Urge Passage of

Amendment Not Definite Enough for Militants.”

“Suff’s Burn Speech . . .,Apply Torch to Wilson’s Words During

Demonstration-Symbol of ‘Indignation’—Throngs Witnessing Doings in

Lafayette Square Orderly and Contribute to Fund—President Receives

Delegation of American Suffrage Association Women.”

Senator McKellar of Tennessee, Democrat, asked Mr. Reed if he did not

believe that we had a right peaceably to assemble under the “first

amendment to our Constitution which I shall read: Congress shall make

no law . . . abridging . . . the right of the people peaceably to

assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

Mr. Reed made no direct answer.

Lest the idea get abroad from the amount of time they spent in

discussing the actions of the “wicked militants,” that we had had

something to do with the situation which had resulted in Democratic

despair, Senator Thomas of Colorado, the one Democrat who had never

been able to conceal his hostility to us for having reduced his

majority in 1914, arose to pay a tribute to the conservative suffrage

association of America. Their “escutcheon,” he said, “is unstained by

mob methods or appeals to violence. It has neither picketed Presidents

nor populated prisons . . . . It has carried no banners flaunting

insults to the Executive,” while the militants on the other hand have

indulged in “much tumult and vociferous braying, all for notoriety’s

sake.” . . . The galleries smiled as he counseled the elder suffrage

leaders “not to lose courage nor yet be: fainthearted,” for this

“handicap” would soon be overcome. It would have taken an abler man

than Senator Thomas, in the face of the nature of this debate, to make

any one believe that we had been a “handicap” in forcing them to their

position. He was the only one hardy enough to try. After this debate

the Senate adjourned, leaving things from the point of view of party

politics, tangled in a hopeless knot. It was to untie this knot that

the President returned hastily from New York in answer to urgent

summons by long distance telephone, and went to the Capitol to deliver

his memorable address.

Mr. Vice President and Gentlemen of the Senate: The unusual

circumstances of a world war in which we stand and are judged in the

view not only of our own people and our own consciences but also in

view of all nations and all peoples will, I hope, justify in your

thought, as it does in mine, the message I have come to bring you. I

regard the concurrence of the Senate in the constitutional amendment

proposing the extension of the suffrage to women as vitally essential

to the successful prosecution of the great war of humanity in which we

are engaged. I have come to urge upon you the considerations which have

led me to that conclusion. It is not only my privilege, it is also my

duty to appraise you of every circumstance and element involved in this

momentous struggle which seems to me to affect its very processes and

its outcome. It is my duty to win the war and to ask you to remove

every obstacle that stands in the way of winning it.

I had assumed that the Senate would concur in the amendment because ho

disputable principle is involved but only a question of the method by

which the suffrage is to be extended to women. There is and can be no

party issue involved in it. Both of our great national parties are

pledged, explicitly pledged, to equality of suffrage for the women of

the country. Neither party, therefore, it seems to me, can justify

hesitation as to the method of obtaining it, can rightfully hesitate to

substitute federal initiative for state initiative, if the early

adoption, of the measure is necessary to the successful prosecution of

the war and if the method of state action proposed in party platforms

of 1916 is impracticable within any reasonable length of time, if

practicable at all. And its adoption is, in my judgment, clearly

necessary to the successful prosecution of the war and the successful

realization of the objects for which the war is being fought.

That judgment, I take the liberty of urging upon you with solemn

earnestness for reasons which I shall state very frankly and which I

shall hope will seem as conclusive to you as they have seemed to me.

This is a peoples’ war, and the peoples’ thinking constitutes its

atmosphere and morale, not the predilections of the drawing room or the

political considerations of the caucus. If we be indeed democrats and

wish to lead the world to democracy, we can ask other peoples to accept

in proof of our sincerity and our ability to lead them whither they

wish to be led nothing less persuasive and convincing than our actions.

Ours professions will not suffice. Verification must be forthcoming

when verification is asked for. And in this case verification is asked

for, asked for in this particular matter. You ask by whom? Not through

diplomatic channels; not by Foreign Ministers, not by the intimations

of parliaments. It is asked for by the anxious, expectant, suffering

peoples with whom we are dealing and who are willing to put their

destinies in some measure in our hands, if they are sure that we wish

the same things that they wish. I do not speak by conjecture. It is not

alone the voices of statesmen and of newspapers that reach me, and the

voices of foolish and intemperate agitators do not reach me at all!

Through many, many channels I have been made aware what the plain,

struggling, workaday folk are thinking upon whom the chief terror and

suffering of this tragic war falls. They are looking to the great,

powerful, famous democracy of the West to lead them to the new day for

which they have so long waited; and they think, in their logical

simplicity, that democracy means that women shall play their part in

affairs alongside men and upon an equal footing with them. If we reject

measures like this, in ignorance or defiance of what a new age has

brought forth, of what they have seen but we have not, they will cease

to follow or to trust us. They have seen their own governments accept

this interpretation of democracy,—seen old governments like Great

Britain, which did not profess to be democratic, promise readily and as

of course this justice to women, though they had before refused it, the

strange revelations of this war having made many things new and plain

to governments as well as to peoples.

Are we alone to refuse to learn the lesson? Are we alone to ask and

take the utmost that women can give,—service and sacrifice of every

kind,—and still say that we do not see what title that gives them to

stand by our sides in the guidance of the affairs of their nation and

ours? We have made partners of the women in this war; shall we admit

them only to a partnership of sacrifice and suffering and toil and not

to a partnership of privilege and of right? This war could not have

been fought, either by the other nations engaged or by America, if it

had not been for the services of the women,—services rendered in every

sphere,—not only in the fields of effort in which we have been

accustomed to see them work, but wherever men have worked and upon the

very skirts and edges of the battle itself. We shall not only be

distrusted but shall deserve to be distrusted if we do not enfranchise

them with the fullest possible enfranchisement, as it is now certain

that the other great free nations will enfranchise them. We cannot

isolate our thought or our action in such a matter from the thought of

the rest of the world. We must either conform or deliberately reject

what they propose and resign the leadership of liberal minds to others.

The women of America arc too noble and too intelligent and too devoted

to be slackers whether you give or withhold this thing that is mere

justice; but I know the magic it will work in their thoughts and

spirits if you give it them. I propose it as I would propose to admit

soldiers to the suffrage, the men fighting in the field for our

liberties and the liberties of the world, were they excluded. The tasks

of the women lie at the very heart of the war, and I know how much

stronger that heart will beat if you do this just thing and show our

women that you trust them as much as you in fact and of necessity

depend upon them.

Have I said that the passage of this amendment is a vitally necessary

war measure, and do you need further proof? Do you stand in need of the

trust of other peoples and of the trust of our women? Is that trust an

asset or is it not? I tell you plainly, as commander-in-chief of our

armies and of the gallant men in our fleets, as the present spokesman

of this people in our dealings with the men and women throughout the

world who are now our partners, as the responsible head of a great

government which stands and is questioned day by day as to its

purposes, its principles, its hopes, whether they be serviceable to men

everywhere or only to itself, and who must himself answer these

questionings or be shamed, as the guide and director of forces caught

in the grip of war and by the same token in need of every material and

spiritual resource this great nation possesses,—I tell you plainly that

this measure which I urge upon you is vital to the winning of the war

and to the energies alike of preparation and of battle.

And not to the winning of the war only. It is vital to the right

solution of the great problems which we must settle, and settle

immediately, when the war is over. We shall need then a vision of

affairs which is theirs, and, as we have never needed them before, the

sympathy and insight and clear moral instinct of the women of the

world. The problems of that time will strike to the roots of many

things that we have not hitherto questioned, and I for one believe that

our safety in those questioning days, as well as our comprehension of

matters that touch society to the quick, will depend upon the direct

and authoritative participation of women in our counsels. We shall need

their moral sense to preserve what is right and fine and worthy in our

system of life as well as to discover just what it is that ought to be

purified and reformed. Without their counselings we shall be only half

wise.

That is my case. This is my appeal. Many may deny its validity, if they

choose, but no one can brush aside or answer the arguments upon which

it is based. The executive tasks of this war rest upon me. I ask that

you lighten them and place in my hands instruments, spiritual

instruments, which I do not now possess, which I sorely need, and which

I have daily to apologize for not being able to employ. (Applause).

It was a truly beautiful appeal.

When the applause and the excitement attendant upon the occasion of a

message from the President had subsided, and the floor of the chamber

had emptied itself of its distinguished visitors, the debate was

resumed.

“If this resolution fails now,” said Senator Jones of Washington,

ranking Republican member of the Suffrage Committee, “it fails for lack

of Democratic votes.”

Senator Cummins of Iowa, Republican, also a member of the Suffrage

Committee, reminded opponents of the measure of the retaliatory tactics

used by President Wilson when repudiated by senators on other issues.

“I sincerely hope,” he said tauntingly, “that the President may deal

kindly and leniently with those who are refusing to remove this

obstacle which stands in his way. It has not been very long since the

President retired the junior Senator from Mississippi [Mr. Vardaman]

from public life. Why? Because he refused at all times to obey the

commands which were issued for his direction. The junior Senator from

Georgia [Mr. Hardwick] suffered the same fate. How do you hope to

escape? . . . My Democratic friends are either proceeding upon the

hypothesis that the President is insincere or that they may be able to

secure an immunity from him that these other unfortunate aspirants for

office failed to secure.”

Senator Cummins chided Senator Reed for denouncing “the so-called

militants who sought to bring their influence to bear upon the

situation in rather a more forcible and decisive method than was

employed by the national association. . . I did not believe in the

campaign they were pursuing (not one senator was brave enough to say

outright that he did). . . .

“But that was simply a question for them to determine; and if they

thought that in accordance with the established custom the President

should bring his influence to bear more effectively than he had, they

had a perfect right to burn his message; they had a perfect right to

carry banners in Lafayette Park, in front of the White House, or

anywhere else; they had a perfect right to bring their banners into the

Capitol and display them with all the force and vigor which they could

command. I did not agree with them; but they also were making a

campaign for an inestimable and a fundamental right.

“What would you have done, men, if you had been deprived of the right

to vote? What would you have done if you had been deprived of the right

of representation? Have the militants done anything worse than the

revolutionary forces who gathered about the tea chests and threw them

into the sea? . . .

“I do not believe they [the militants] committed any crime; and while I

had no particle of sympathy with the manner in which they were

conducting their campaign, I think their arrest and imprisonment and

the treatment which they received while in confinement are a disgrace

to the civilized world, and much the more a disgrace to the United

States, which assumes to lead the civilized world in humane endeavor.

They disturbed nobody save that disturbance which is common to the

carrying forward of all propaganda by those who are intensely and

vitally interested in it. I wish they had not done it, but I am not to

be the judge of their methods so long as they confine themselves to

those acts and to those words which are fairly directed to the

accomplishment of their purposes. I cannot accept the conclusion that

because these women burned a message in Lafayette Park or because they

carried banners upon the streets in Washington therefore they are

criminals.”

The time had come to take the vote, but we knew we had not won. The

roll was called and the vote stood 62 to 34 [Oct. 1, 1918], counting

all pairs. We had lost by 2 votes.

Instantly Chairman Jones, according to his promise to the women,

changing his vote from “yea” to “nay,” moved for a reconsideration of

the measure, and thus automatically kept it on the calendar of the

Senate. That was all that could be done.

The President’s belief in the power of words had lost the amendment.

Nor could he by a speech, eloquent as it was, break down the opposition

in the Senate which he had so long protected and condoned.

Our next task was to secure a reversal of the Senate vote. We modified

our tactics slightly.

Jailed for Freedom · 第 18 / 27 章