Hellraisers Journal: From The Socialist Spirit: “Mother Jones” by William Mailly, Part III: Versatility, Courage and Devotion

Quote Mother Jones, Not Afraid in PA, SF Exmr p2, Sept 22, 1900 —————

Hellraisers Journal – Wednesday August 6, 1902
“Mother Jones” by William Mailly, Part III: Courage and Devotion

From The Socialist Spirit of August 1902:

“MOTHER” JONES

BY WILLIAM MAILLY

[Part III of III]

[Versatility and Power]

The most fertile writer of romance would never select a woman 60 years of age as the central figure of a story, and yet “Mother” Jones has had a career as full of diversity and adventure as could be devised by any disciple of Dumas. One can easily imagine a Joan of Arc, a D’Artagnan, or a Richard of the Lion Heart, but who would ever hit upon a little woman with grey hair as the daring leader of a crusade? There is material here for some genius to immortalize in the years to come. I have only space here for three incidents that, briefly related, will serve, perhaps, to illustrate the versatility and power of “Mother” Jones.

Several years ago, while passing through Montgomery, Alabama, after one of her investigations of conditions in the Southern cotton mills, she visited the Democratic convention, which was in session at the time. One of the delegates, an acquaintance, suggested that she address the convention, and she assented. When the proposition was made several delegates who knew “Mother” objected, but the others, with true Southern chivalry, and their historic regard for women, voted down all objections, and she was given the floor. They regretted their chivalry afterwards.

“Mother” thanked the convention for the courtesy extended to her, but immediately asked: “What about the women you have working in the mills of Alabama, sixteen hours a day, for two and three dollars a week? Don’t you think they’re entitled to some consideration?” She then proceeded to roast the Democratic state administration for its treachery toward the workers and particularly for its repeal, a few years previously, of the law prohibiting the employment of children under twelve years of age in factories. When she got through there was consternation in the convention. Several delegates remonstrated, but others took it up, and when “Mother” left they were still fighting. The papers next day denounced the attempt “to bring discord into the Democratic party by allowing a labor agitator to address the convention.”

One winter, when the snow lay deep upon the ground, “Mother” Jones’ duties as organizer took her into a Pennsylvania mining camp, where there were no friendly faces and the mine owners were prepared to fight her. She hired a room in the only boarding house, kept by a widow, in the place. Then she went out and got up her meeting. It was late when “Mother” returned; she was tired, but the rest she expected when she reached her room was not to be hers that night.

For she had hardly returned, when the boarding house keeper appeared, and after much hesitation and evident humiliation, stated that the company had notified her that “Mother” Jones was not to stay in that house. The woman tearfully said that she was dependent upon the company for existence, that she could not afford to antagonize them, and – and – would “Mother” Jones please go somewhere else and stay? Certainly, she would. Then “Mother” listened to the woman’s story of heart-breaking toil and dependency upon the mine-owners, gave her a good woman’s consolation, kissed her, and went out into the night.

It was some time, and only after much tramping around in the snow, before “Mother” succeeded in finding a miner brave enough to allow her to sleep upon the floor of his hovel. But she had her revenge by staying in the camp until a union was organized and the capitalists made to realize that the miners had some rights that had to be respected thereafter.

What was probably the most dramatic incident of “Mother” Jones’ career occurred during the anthracite strike of two years ago. She was then principally occupied in the Hazleton district, where the battle raged the hottest, and it was necessary the most active measures be utilized. This resulted in expeditions of strikers being formed that marched from one mine to another and, by the display of numbers, influenced other miners to quit work. The largest of these expeditions was one composed of nearly five thousand men. It marched one night through the Panther Creek valley, with “Mother” Jones at the head, to a place where miners would be met going to work in the early morning. A dozen nationalities were represented in the parade and, while the journey lasted, songs were sung in as many languages. Throughout the night fellow countrymen called to each other in their mother tongue.

On through the valley the undrilled army surged until, nearing its destination, it rounded the crest of a little hill, and then—the night murk lifted, and dawn broke, and there, lined across the road, stood a company of soldiers waiting for their prey. At the sight, those in front of the army of strikers stopped-those behind, not seeing what the leaders saw, pushed forward. There was nearly a catastrophe.

“Halt” cried the colonel in charge.

The pushing continued, and cries of surprise and irritation arose from the rear. In the meanwhile, “Mother” Jones got the men in front under control, and then she stepped forward.

“Whatever you do, don’t shoot,” she said, “or you must take the consequences.”

The colonel understood her. He turned to his men, and those who were there say his jaw rattled as he spoke, and the faces of the soldiers were deathly pale.

“Men, for God’s sake, remember my voice, and don’t fire until I give the word.”

Then, as the strikers eyed their enemies sullenly, “Mother” Jones ascended the hill a little way and waved her hand to the bewildered, angry crowd beyond. At sight of her the confusion ceased and order was gradually established. Now that that was accomplished, the question was how to get that crowd away without causing a disturbance and prevent probable bloodshed. One false move and a terrible massacre might have occurred. It was left for “Mother” Jones to do what no one else could have done.

With no trace of agitation or alarm she turned the disappointed crowd around. Inch by inch the strikers retreated, with the soldiers pressing them close. It is said that it took three hours for those men to cover four miles, and at any moment something might have broken loose. But the men’s confidence in “Mother” Jones saved the day. Without understanding all she said, obeying only the motion of her lips and the gesture of her arm, they retreated where they would have preferred to go forward. It developed afterwards that another body of strikers to the number of twelve hundred were coming in the opposite direction, so that the soldiers, unawares, were really trapped between two armies. What might have happened under the circumstances, if “Mother” Jones had not acted with tact and skill, can be imagined.

[Courage and Devotion]

Such is she whose courage and devotion has made her the best beloved woman in the labor movement of America. The Social Revolution, of which she is the avant courier, has no purer, more unselfish and dauntless advocate than she. The personification of all that is noble and lofty in the ambitions of the working class, her spirit cannot be broken by persecution, nor, should the experiment over be tried, confined within the limits of a tyrant’s cell. Of her, indeed, in that case, it could be truly said:

“Four walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage!”

[Emphasis added.]