September 30, 1912. To Providence for meeting of Executive Committee where we hammered away at the platform. I introduced two planks that were accepted,—on infant mortality and domestic education.
October 8, 1912. Started from Market Square, Providence, with the Flying Squadron, consisting of two automobiles, the good ships “Theodore Roosevelt” and the “Equal Rights.” A fine send-off. The motors decorated with banners bearing the legends, “Pass Prosperity around”, “Let the People Rule”, “Protect the Laborer.” Our party, Mrs. Algeo, Doctor Garvin, Mr. Tuttle, Reuben Peckham, and Mr. Thompson. The men all wore bandanas, the campaign badge, around their heads. A crack cornetist played the “Battle Hymn” on a silver trumpet beautifully. We all made brief addresses and started off to great applause, with our own drummer beating his drum. I very poorly with a cold, full of alarms and expecting to die of pneumonia. First stop outside one of the great mills at Lonsdale. The hands came out at twelve o’clock when the whistle blew. We handed them “literature” as the campaign documents are incorrectly called, and told them to hurry back for the meeting at twelve-thirty. They came back sharp on time, and we alternately made speeches and dealt out “literature.” Arrived at Woonsocket in the afternoon. Held a good meeting in the square, then to the Bleachery, where we spoke to the mill hands as they came from work. I think it was at this place that I spoke to a group of Italians in their own language. The Italians are all solid for Roosevelt.
October 9, 1912. Charles Sumner Bird’s motor came for me and I drove to East Walpole, where I stayed at Endean, the house of dear old Frank Bird, papa’s college chum and lifelong friend. Had not seen the place in forty years, found it much enlarged and greatly embellished. In the upper corridor hang the portraits of Sumner, Andrew, Wilson, my parents, and many other leaders of the old time. Hurried from the meeting to the train to rejoin the Flying Squadron in Rhode Island.
October 10, 1912. To-day the way led through darkest Rhode Island. First stop, East Greenwich, where my correspondent, old Mr. Vars, greeted us. An aged and infirm man but staunch and true. Mr. Hill, the Progressive leader, very helpful. Got together with the local committee who reported a good meeting last night, and then on to Appanaug, where we saw Mrs. Richmond, the woman leader. Such a beautiful creature! Wherever we go we find that the leading clergymen are with us. At noon and at five o’clock, spoke at the gates of some of the great mills in the Valley. Talked with the manager of a large textile manufactory and remarked upon the apathy of the operatives.
“Three generations in the mill is what does it,” he said, “and no wonder!”
Made headquarters at six. Took the Fall River boat for New York.
October 11, 1912. Arrived late in New York, delayed by the rain. To headquarters, where was detailed to go out and speak from a motor. My speech was printed in the New York Tribune and World. Meeting of the Progressive Women at three o’clock. We all told what we had done in our States for the cause. Maryland was finely represented, and so was Georgia, by two brilliant women. These Southern ladies are splendid creatures once they get started, showing such fire and devotion. We were only allowed three-minute speeches. I said what I could for Rhode Island. In the evening to a banquet of the Equal Suffrage League where all three parties were represented. A horrid, heckling woman spoke for Taft, and another, hardly any better, for Wilson. Jane Addams, all in white, for Roosevelt, towered above them all like the Jungfrau. Her expressive, grave face was an inspiration to us all. Her speech, her very presence made the trip worth while. Miss Carpenter spoke well and Frances Keller was superb; she is like a black diamond, full of fire and power.
October 12, 1912. To Providence, made the journey with Mr. and Mrs. Bird and her nephew, Richard Washburn Child, the writer, who gave me many good hints. He is one of the able men among the younger Progressives.
October 15, 1912. At Weld. The maid brought in my breakfast with the announcement, “Roosevelt’s been shot.”
I sent a wire: