Tuesday, April 26, 1921.
Alice Longworth fetched me a little after twelve (a piping hot day). We drove to the Senate. For about half an hour before lunch we sat in the gallery of the Senate Chamber. By strange chance a Senator called LaFollette was holding forth upon Ireland, and demanding that the government of the U. S. recognize the Irish Republic. It was strange to come to the Senate to hear home politics. I listened to censorious remarks on Great Britain and I felt that everyone was agreeing, both on the floor of the Senate as well as in the galleries. Senator LaFollette, with his gray hair standing on end, and his face pink with passion, left his desk, strode up and down, around and about, the while he shook a formidable finger at the empty seats around him. They were not entirely empty, however, for Senator Reed was listening with attention and approval. I had met Senator Reed at Mrs. McCormick’s party on Sunday night, and the subject of Ireland had arisen between us then. He told me he was contemplating a journey to Detroit to speak at a meeting for “Funds for Ireland.” I said to him that night: “If you are going to ask for funds for Ireland you must needs abuse Great Britain.” He answered that the one did not absolutely necessitate the other. But I surmised he only said it out of politeness to an Englishwoman. I feel I have met the anti-British wave at last. It is here—and it is in the Senate! But what can one say in self-defense about Ireland? Senator LaFollette reiterated all the arguments that were asserted in Moscow, and to which I could not answer a word. Such as the war having been fought to protect the small nations, self-determination by the people, freedom of Poland, of Jugo-Slavia, of Czecho-Slovakia, of God knows what else.
In my own heart I think the small nationalities are the causes of war, but having insisted and proclaimed their rights we certainly must be consistent. The only objection I have heard yet to the Irish Republic is the notion that she would be a base for an enemy fleet in the next war. To which the reply is obvious. She is further away from us than France. Besides, she was a base for the enemy fleet in the last war. Our problems would on the whole have been lessened if Ireland as an independent nation had openly sided with the enemy. We could have declared war on her, instead of being hand tied in the face of her enmity, by pretending that she belonged to our cause. Other theories are, that Ireland would not be our enemy if we gave her independence. Of course Ireland should have her Republic. I say it not as an Irish patriot, or even as an Irish sympathizer, but just as an onlooker, it seems to me the only logical possibility. I suppose the British Empire would lose some revenue over it, money is always at the bottom of all these problems.
When LaFollette had finished, Senator Reed, who had once or twice interrupted (to ask for information, not to criticize) crossed the house and shook hands with Senator LaFollette. Senator Reed has a handsome, regular, rugged face; he is an oldish man, gray haired, but his individuality is full of fight and aggression. He surely must be of Irish origin. Senator Borah was pointed out to me. He has a curious, wide, crumpled-up, forceful face, and long hair. He has been held out to me as one of the heads that would be interesting to do. Henry Cabot Lodge was talking in a back row with the Mormon Senator Smoot. I remember the latter when I was here ten years ago. I met him one evening at a party, and papa introduced us. On that occasion the conversation drifted upon forms of government, and I believe I said (papa has often reminded me of the story) that I believed in feudalism, my idea being a castle surrounded by small huts, which at sight of the enemy eject their inhabitants into the castle for protection. Senator Smoot said in answer to this: “And I gather from this that you, Miss Frewen, would be living in the castle.” I have progressed since then! I feel as if it were not I who had advocated feudalism ten years ago, but some other person within me who is a stranger to me, who is neither mother nor child to me.
Senator Lodge joined us at lunch in one of the private offices. I sat next to Senator Curtis, who is one-eighth Indian, so he told me. The only trace of it was in his fine hawk nose. I told him of my hope about returning from Mexico through the National Parks and he told me a lot about it, and much that was interesting about the Indians and promised to help me in my scheme, if I will write and let him know, where and when I want to go. We discussed the psychology of mixed races, and I wondered whether the faint drop of Indian blood in my own veins could possibly account for my dislike of civilization, and my longing to get away into the wilds alone. He thought that even such a remote strain might account for this.
After lunch we went downstairs to Senator Medill McCormick’s office. I had not yet met him as he has been away. I dined at the McCormick’s again in the evening. I liked the Senator. They are both wondrously hospitable. I am overwhelmed by Washington and want to remain here or come back. Every day I put forth a deeper root. New York has been hospitable, but whereas in New York I feel I am asked because I am a curiosity, here there is real warmth in the hospitality. I like all the people I have met, and the women are intelligent and interested in politics, not like the society women in New York, who seem to affect the blasé aloofness about Washington and all concerned. As for Alice Longworth, she is magnificent—“one of us,” as an Englishman said to me, meaning it as the highest compliment he could pay! She is not “someone” merely because she is her father’s daughter. She has her own very forceful personality. I feel she is the woman who should have gotten into the precincts of Lenin and Trotzky, not me! And they would have appreciated her! She is the Madame Kolontai type.
May 7, 1921. New York.
I have had a good week, quite one of the best since I arrived here. I had an order from Mr. C. to do a bust of Miss Spence for the school. Mrs. C., when she came to talk to me about it, told me that Miss Spence had to be treated as Royalty. Royalty do not alarm me, and I expected Miss Spence would! But she was far more interesting than that.
Every morning except one Miss Spence had sat to me from 10:15 until 1 o’clock—and we have hardly stopped talking the entire time. I have enjoyed every moment of the sittings, and subconsciously our talks have helped to mature certain plans in my mind, plans as to the future, and the education of my children. Miss Spence is among the largest minded people I have met over here. I like her points of view. I like her big heart, her adoration of immature youth, her understanding, and her quick grasp of situations. Moreover her head is extremely interesting, although very difficult to do. Her mouth has a kindly sense of humor without being weak. Her eyes, when she talks, light up with inward vision and enthusiasm.
We have talked a great deal about America, and I find myself talking to the Scotchwoman in her, not to the American born. It becomes a very impartial discussion. The position of woman here as compared with England is an unworn-out subject. The attitude of Englishmen toward the marriage state, their sense of possession, their domination, the laws of divorce, the laws of custody of children, we have reviewed it and deplored it.