Monthly Magazine Devoted to Social Science and Literature Published Every 15th of the Month EMMA GOLDMAN, Publisher and Editor, 20 East 125th Street. New York, N. Y. Entered as second-class matter April 9, 1906, at the post office at New York, N. Y., under the Act of Congress of March 8, 1879. WAR'S WINECUP BY MAY S. FORRESTER The fields of the Gods are ripened, And the helpers of Hell and their makers Are feeding the mouth of the Winepress For the purpose of grape and of vintage Is yielding its crimsoned breath, While the Christian War Lords are feasting The altars of Mammon and Moloch With victims are heaped up high, For "The Gods are athirst," and they revel Where blood-lusting patriots die; Nor the hand of the priest shall falter Nor whiter his lips shall grow When from sacrificial altar The encrimsoned tide shall flow. And the masters of Earth are filling With glee their gruesome cup, For the victims are many, and willing, No. 2 IN And the altars where Mammon presideth 'Till then shall earth's streams run gory, For the greed and the hate and the malice, In the great sacrificial chalice Shall the strife-maddened peoples of earth then Shall they find they are One, that their battle Shall their day of freedom come after Is this red, red stain the breaking * OBSERVATIONS AND COMMENTS our May issue we mean to print a report of our activities in and about New York during the past four months. Today we wish to tell our readers only of the two great events-the Red Revel and the MOTHER EARTH Tenth Anniversary. Both were remarkable in their way. The Red Revel brought out nearly eight hundred people, representing as many different languages as can only be found in New York City. Not only that, there were also to be found every profession from the dramatist, painter, composer, poet, actor, to the scavenger. All had a wonderful time, forgetting for the evening that there was such a thing as the war in Europe and America. The Anniversary was of a different nature. The at tendance was not what one might expect after a nine years' struggle. But quality made up for lack of quantity. The music rendered by the brilliant young American violinist, David Hochstein, was inspiring, and it was almost worth the hardships of the past to have been able to have him play. "The Glittering Gate" by Lord Dunsany, a one act play, ably acted by Roland Young and E. J. Ballantine, gripped the audience by its grim pathos. Then there were addresses by our good friends, Leonard D. Abbott and Bolton Hall, and the mother of the child, E. G. Telegrams of good wishes came from Alexander Berkman and Anna Statneko, Denver; from Schorr and Rothstein, St. Louis; and from Leon Malmed, Albany. Also a great many letters from all parts of the country, expressing appreciation of our anniversary number. Altogether MOTHER EARTH has reasons to rejoice over the past nine years and to look forward with new hope toward the future. FRANK RANK TANNENBAUM is again a free man. It was left to a female prison commissioner to rob the boy of nearly all his "good time;" an outrage formerly imposed only for an attempt to escape or for assaulting a keeper. But if Katherine hoped to dampen the ardor of our comrade, she could not have gone about it in a more stupid manner. Frank is at his most impressionable age. With kindness and understanding, one would have tremendous influence with him. But why expect either from prison officials? Frank tasted all the bitterness and humiliation a cruel, senseless system inflicts on its victims. But he came out the old rebel, more intense, and with a greater determination to oppose every social wrong. Frank hopes to cause an investigation of the horrors of Blackwell's Island Penitentiary. He is indeed naive, or else he would know that every investigation goes as far as the Warden's office, and there it rests until the next cry of anguish pierces through the thick prison walls. But we are glad that our comrade is pursuing his aim of helping his fellow sufferers, whom he left behind. We are glad that he has come back to us, as wholesome and as fresh, with his old defiance more aglow. The revolutionary movement needs such buoyant spirits. THE cold chariot wheel of justice has ridden over Patrick Quinlan and Frederick Sumner Boyd. If proofs were needed, their cases have again shown us the utter futility-not to speak of the inconsistency-for the revolutionary element to hope for justice from the courts. It is only too true that in this freest of all countries, the law is so crooked that unless one has a lawyer to help him past the hundred and one technical pitfalls, he is doomed to fall into them at the very first hearing. The myth that in America the defendant is entitled to be his own defender is a wretched farce. Likely as not, he will be held for contempt of court the moment he opens his mouth. But if one is compelled to avail himself of counsel and go through the comedy of a trial for the sake of propaganda, he is not compelled to use the money of the workers and drag the case from court to court, knowing all the time there is no such thing as justice from the judicial bench. Not for those who plead in behalf of the disinherited, anyhow. Unfortunately, the workers themselves are too steeped in their awe of the courts. They are willing enough to give their pennies to feed the machinery of government. But they are not willing enough to make revolutionary stand which might have sufficient weight to free their brothers. Under such conditions, there seems to be only two ways open to the real rebel. Either not to venture into a serious fight at all, or to say with our brave, dead comrade, Jack Whyte, "To Hell with your courts!" Since the above was written, the New York Call has printed Frederick Sumner Boyd's appeal for pardon-a document so cringing and slimy that further comment is hardly necessary. In an editorial (March 27) The Call attempts to squirm out of the fact that Boyd is a Socialist by referring to his "Anarchistic ravings." Evidently The Call is as cowardly as Boyd, since it tries to hide the fact that Boyd never had even the slightest inkling of An archism, nor any connection whatsoever with the Anarchists. Sumner Boyd, and most of the writers for the Metropolitan, are Socialists. If The Call were not as commonplace a sheet as the rest of the New York dailies, it would not feebly try to hide its own shame by attempting to besmirch Anarchism with the name of Frederick Sumner Boyd. The most disgusting feature of the Boyd recantation is that such men as Gilbert E. Roe, John Reed and Lincoln Steffens should have put their names to such a document. We have learned that Steffens did not see the appeal until he was on his way to the Governor of New Jersey with it. He admits that he would have taken off his signature but feared that it would impair Boyd's chances. We suggested to Steffens to make this fact public, as it is never weakness to admit a mistake. We hope he will do so. In the meantime, we wish Sumner Boyd success. All yellow curs deserve some kindness from the masters whose boots they lick. * THE trial of William Sanger, set for March 15th and postponed until April 12th, is arousing nation-wide interest. Letters and financial contributions have been received by the Free Speech League from all parts of the country. Early in March, 2,000 appeals for money, together with a reprint of Max Eastman's leading article in the March issue of The Masses, were sent out to picked names. Upward of $400 has been received at the time of this writing. Two of the noteworthy contributors to the fund are Eugene V. Debs, the Socialist leader, and Robert Herrick, the novelist. $32 was raised at Emma Goldman's meetings in New York and Schenectady. On March 4th Gilbert E. Roe argued before Judge Swann, of the Court of General Sessions, in favor of a jury trial for Mr. Sanger. It was at this time that the Judge branded Mrs. Sanger's pamphlet on "Family Limitation" as "simply awful," and asked: "If this is not obscene, what is?" The Judge's own attitude was the best argument for a jury trial. A little later he returned Mr. Roe's plea with the laconic comment: "Motion denied." |