Chapter 25
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.