A LONG PULL AND A STRONG PULL
That session saw a quiet, persistent, effective campaign waged in the
city of Washington. Many women living there now will remember it, for
many were in its forefront, and what we put ourselves into we do not
forget. Many men, too, some still in Congressional circles and some by
the mutations of time and politics relegated to private life, may recall
it,--not a few for the generous help they gave but a greater number as
the unjust judge kept in remembrance the cause of the widow whose
continual coming wearied him.
The bill entitled "An act to amend the laws of the District of Columbia
as to married women, to make parents the natural guardians of their
children, and for other purposes," was introduced in the Senate early in
January, and referred to the District Committee. Then the trials of the
gentlemen comprising the committee, not to say the whole Senate, began.
The beautiful room of the Committee on the District became the Mecca to
which many a pilgrimage led. Naturally it was of the first importance to
enlist the Committee, and it chanced that one or two of them were hard
to enlist, being by nature and environment conservative, and doubtful of
anything that looked toward change. Women had always fared well in their
part of the country, and been contented, and they could see no reason
why their status elsewhere should be tampered with. This was why Mrs.
Belden had been anxious to take Margaret to see Senator Southard, who
was one of the Committee, and a conservative of the conservatives.
Yes, that might justly be called a campaign, for it was a "connected
series of operations forming a distinct stage in a war," as the
dictionary hath it, and moreover all the methods of war were used. There
were gallant charges of battalions led by experienced generals, and the
not less effective guerrilla warfare in which each fair combatant picked
off her man with any weapon that was at hand, caring not for the rules
of combat, but only that he fell. Sieges were planned and carried on
during that campaign; strategic positions were captured and held; there
was an occasional repulse and sometimes danger of rout, but the forces
always rallied and, as the winter passed, it was found that they were
steadily advancing.
Into this determined but entirely womanly warfare Margaret threw herself
with all the ardor of her tempestuous soul. Here was something to do.
She had been too long a creature simply "to be" and "to suffer." Before
this question of joint guardianship, which to her was the essence of the
bill, all other measures up before Congress dwindled into
insignificance. It is a difficult thing for women to sink the personal.
Sometimes it seems difficult for men also. To Margaret the passage of
this bill meant Philip in her arms and the overthrow of her enemy. It
had never occurred to her to doubt that it would give her Philip.
The opportunity afforded by her chance meeting with Senator Dalgleish
had been diligently followed up. By her own fireside he had listened to
the tragedy of her life. He would have been less than mortal had he
heard it unmoved, and when the conversation turned from her wrongs to
the bill which, if it became a law, would right such wrongs, it is not
strange that he was easily won to its advocacy and ready to become her
co-worker. By the way, he told her at leaving, with a thoughtful nod of
the head, his colleague was a new man in Washington--a very fine
man--though somewhat provincial. Yes, this was his first term--his wife
and daughters were somewhat unused to Washington life and might
appreciate some attention--as he would himself, indeed. Perhaps--if she
would call--
Certainly, Margaret said cheerfully--she would be glad to show any
attention in her power to friends of his. And a new lead was opened.
When she related the events of the evening to Mrs. Pennybacker that lady
remarked, "I don't really suppose, Margaret, that your particular case
is any harder than it would be if you were a cross-eyed mother of
forty--but it will command more sympathy!"
Some time in January Margaret went with Mrs. Belden to see the Senator
from the West who was making the speech on irrigation the day she was in
the Senate. He listened in silence to Mrs. Belden's presentation of the
case, and then said frankly:
"Ladies, you needn't waste one minute on me. In the first place, I
believe in it. But if I did not, there is a good reason why I should
support this measure. _I was elected by women's votes._ I shouldn't dare
to go back to my constituents and tell them I voted against this bill."
And into Margaret's mind there flashed an instant recollection of Mrs.
Pennybacker's words once, "Perhaps they want the ballot for something
they can do with it." As they went away Mrs. Belden remarked to her: "It
is not the Western States we have to fear. They are not the ones that
have the narrow constitutions. Thought has advanced since the launching
of the original thirteen. It is from the older States that the trouble
will come. We want if possible to gain Senator Southard. That will be a
triumph indeed, for he is really opposed to it, on principle, I am
told."
"What sort of man is Senator Southard? I mean what line of argument
would be most apt to appeal to him?"
"Oh, he is a self-made man and opinionated as many of them are--thinks
his road to success is the one that everybody ought to take, and all
that sort of thing. And yet I really think he would appreciate a good
sensible argument."
Margaret was thinking, "Perhaps I can get Aunt Mary after him. That's
her kind." She broached the subject to Mrs. Pennybacker that night.
"Talk to a Senator!" she exclaimed. "Why, Margaret, I never could do it
in the world! My tongue would cleave to the roof of my mouth."
"Don't you believe it, Margaret," laughed Bess, "I've never seen
grandma's tongue in that position yet, nor the man that could keep it
there."
"You've never seen me in the presence of a Senator," retorted her
grandmother, "except a mild type like Senator Dalgleish."
But in spite of her prompt declination she found herself dwelling much
upon common sense reasons for the passage of this bill--reasons which
might appeal to an elderly man amenable to homely truth. Not that she
had any idea of ever using them. No, indeed! She knew her limitations.
Her sphere was not lobbying!
But one day when Mrs. Greuze had come by for reinforcements to visit
Senator Black, and Margaret was at Elmhurst, Mrs. Pennybacker put on her
best bonnet and joined the crusade, taking Bess--who was frankly anxious
to go--with her. "You will do for filling," she remarked to her
granddaughter. "I may possibly say something, but I don't think I
shall."
An audience had been arranged with the Senator and he received them most
courteously. Seated in the District Committee room the ladies of the
delegation presented quite an imposing appearance. Mrs. Greuze presented
Mrs. Pennybacker and her granddaughter, remarking effectively that the
Senator would see that this was a cause which enlisted the gray-haired
and the rosy-cheeked alike. And the gray hairs nodded assent, while the
rosy cheeks grew rosier as the great Senator's gaze rested upon them.
The speakers for this occasion had been decided upon beforehand and the
particular line of argument that each should take up. They were lucid,
forcible arguments presented by people who knew how. The Senator gave
most respectful heed to them.
In all this discussion Bess had, of course, taken no part. Her office
was purely decorative--a function which she fulfilled, it may be said in
passing, as fully and fragrantly as do the lilies of the field. The
elderly Senator, whose sight was not yet obscured, found his attention
wandering from the logical arguments of Mrs. Greuze to the sweet face
that blossomed at her side. Perhaps there might have been a lurking
thought in the minds of these wise sisters that it would be so--that the
sweet innocence and beauty of her youthful femininity might prove a
solvent for hearts callous to the logic of more angular maturity.
Just now Bess was taking an almost childish interest in the
committee-room, with its luxurious appointments and its vaulted ceiling
with the Brumidi frescoes. She had always supposed a committee-room was
bare. The Senator found his eyes turning to her frequently. She was a
sweet fresh blossom!... And when he spoke she looked at him
reverently--being young--as though his utterances were the oracles of
God. Secure in her belief that she was only there to swell the numbers
and had no part to play, she was divested of all self-consciousness and
played it to perfection.
Then the Senator, noticing the rose pink in her cheek, and feeling a
mischievous desire to heighten it, turned to her suddenly and said:
"My dear young lady, I don't see how you are interested in this bill.
You'll be pretty sure to get your rights without it--or your privileges,
which will count you for more. What are your arguments?"
Bess caught her breath and drew back, crimsoning to the roots of her
fluffy hair. That she should be called upon to speak had not entered her
pretty head. She had no arguments. To her the bill itself was a
question, not of law and right, but of Margaret and her child. She had
not reached the age for generalizing; the operations of her mind were
still in terms of 2 + 2 instead of a + b, to follow the genial Autocrat.
But there was no coward blood in Bess's veins, though she was pure
feminine. She valiantly took up the gage thrown down.
"I haven't any," she said, with a frank laugh. "The other ladies have
the argument. I only came to make one more." Then modestly, "But
still,--I don't know,--I may be wrong--of course you know so much better
about--oh, everything--than I do, but it seems to me that it does
concern me more even than it does grandma. Of course I'm not a
mother--but I hope sometime I may be--I'd hate awfully to think I never
should!" The Senator bowed respectfully to her womanhood, with an
indulgent smile and a significant wave of the hand toward the elder
ladies. The gesture said, "You see? There is the whole story in a
nutshell! This is woman's sphere."
"And then," continued Bess with a flash of her bright eyes, "I tell you
I wouldn't want any old law interfering with my child and giving anybody
the right to take it away from me! I'd fight like a wild-cat!
Well,--that's what they did to Margaret."
"Who is Margaret?" asked the Senator, finding this more interesting than
prosaic arguments.
"Oh, I thought you knew about Margaret. Why,--"
"It is the case I was referring to a moment ago, Senator," broke in Mrs.
Greuze, a little impatiently. "A case in point exactly. I will repeat--"
"One moment," blandly interposed the gentleman. "Now who is Margaret, my
dear?"
"Why, Margaret is our friend--grandma's and mine--the one whose husband
willed her baby away from her. I don't know why, I'm sure--nobody
knows--but it was in the will and so it had to stand, the judge said,
because that was the law. You must have heard of it."
"No--o. There are so many things to hear, you know. But it interests me.
I should like to see your friend. Perhaps you will bring her here to
talk with me some day. Her story as you tell it seems to have some
bearing on this bill."
Bess looked around at her grandmother. This was getting in rather deep
for one who had come only as "filling."
"Certainly," said that lady, with affability and equal promptness, "you
can go over some day. _And I will go with you._"
At this, attention was bestowed upon the older ladies, and the
conference proceeded.
* * * * *
In relating this occurrence to John Harcourt that night Mrs. Pennybacker
wound up by saying, with a suggestive motion of the head toward the two
bright faces opposite them, "I hardly think that elderly, or even
middle-aged, arguments are the thing needed over there! Do you?"