Mr. Bainbridge Colby, then member of the Emergency Fleet Corporation of the Shipping Board and member of the Inter-Allied Council which sat on shipping problems, now Secretary of State in President Wilson’s Cabinet, was approached as a suffragist, known to have access to the President. Mr. Colby had just returned from abroad when I saw him. He is a cultivated gentleman, but he knows how to have superlative enthusiasm.
“In the light of the world events,” he said, “this reform is insignificant. No time or energy ought to be diverted from the great program of crushing the Germans.”
“But can we not do that,” I asked, “without neglecting internal liberties?”
Mr. Colby is a strong conformist. He became grave. When I was indiscreet enough to reveal that I was inclined to pin my faith to the concrete liberty of women, rather than to a vague and abstract “human freedom,” which was supposed to descend upon the world, once the Germans were beaten, I know he wanted to call me “seditious.” But he is a gallant gentleman and he only frowned with distress. He continued with enthusiasm to plan to build ships.
Bernard Baruch, then member of the Advisory Committee of the Council of National Defense, later economic expert at the Peace Conference, was able to see the war and the women’s problem at the same time. He is an able politician and was therefore sensitive to our appeal; he saw the passage of the amendment as a political asset. I do not know how much he believed in the principle. That was of minor importance. What was important was that he agreed to tell the President that he believed it wise to put more pressure on the measure in the Senate. Also I believe Mr. Baruch was one member of the Administration who realized in the midst of the episode that arresting women was bad politics, to say nothing of the doubtful chivalry of it.
George Creel, chairman of the Committee on Public Information, was also asked for help. We went to him many times, because his contact with the President was constant. A suffragist of long standing, he nevertheless hated our militant tactics, for he knew we were winning and the Administration was losing. He is a strange composite. Working at terrific tension and mostly under fire, he was rarely in calm enough mood to sit down and devise ways and means.
“But I talk to the President every day on this matter”—and—“I am doing all I can”—and—“The President is doing all he can”—he would drive at you—without stopping for breath.
“But if you will just ask him to get Senator ——”
“He is working on the Senator now. You people must give him time. He has other things to do,” he would say, sweeping aside every suggestion. Familiar advice!
Charles D. Hilles, former Chairman of the Republican National Committee, was a leader who had come slowly to believe in national suffrage. But, once convinced, he was a faithful and dependable colleague who gave practical political assistance.