Cry with the wind, for the dawn is breaking.
March, march, swing you along,
Wide blow our banners, and hope is waking.”
And then came the envoys, delegated by women voters to carry the torch of liberty through the dark lands and keep it burning. And the dark mass below the lighted altar-tower caught the choristers’ spirit, and burst into cheers.
The chorus also sang the Song of the Free Women, written by Sara Bard Field to the music of the Marseillaise.
The envoys spoke. Their words were greeted with cheers. One of the nation’s greatest actresses, Margaret Anglin, said a few fitting farewell words to them in the name of the women of the world.
Then, all at once, the great, brightly-colored picture and its dark background began to disintegrate and fade. The Court darkened, but bright masses of women were forming in procession to escort the envoys to the gates of the Exposition. Orange lanterns swayed in the breeze; purple, white, and gold draperies fluttered, the blare of the band burst forth, and the great surging crowd followed to the gates.
There, Ingeborg Kindstedt and Maria Kindberg, of Providence, Rhode Island, who had purchased the car that is to take the crusaders on their long journey, met the procession. The Overland car was covered with Suffrage streamers. Miss Kindberg was at the wheel. To the wild cheering of the crowd, Miss Joliffe and Mrs. Field, the two envoys for Washington, were seated. The crowd surged close with final messages. Cheers burst forth as the gates opened, and the big car swung through, ending the most dramatic and significant Suffrage Convention that has probably ever been held in the history of the world.
And so Alice Paul’s stupendous pageant—whose stage was the entire United States—opened.