Amos Pinchot to Woodrow Wilson

Amos Pinchot to Woodrow Wilson

Amos Pinchot

WWP22378

1918 May 24

Amos Pinchot writes to Woodrow Wilson about the trial of Max Eastman, Art Young, John Reed, and other editors from The Masses declaring them to be innocent of conspiracy.

Library of Congress, Woodrow Wilson Papers, 1786-1957

My dear Mr. Wilson

It is hard for me to write impartially about the second trial of The Masses editors. Three of the defendants accused of conspiracy are my close personal friends. And my judgment, as to the general wisdom of continuing such a prosecution, cannot but be affected by the horror I feel at the possibility of seeing these men broken and embittered by a conviction of a crime, of which I know they are neither technically nor morally guilty.
Others have spoken to you of the doubtful wisdom of pushing these prosecutions, of their effect on liberal people and policies and of the fact that, if rights like that of common counsel are taken from the public in an emergency, they can never be restored as rights. They have become revocable permissions.
On these matters, important as they are, I will not waste your time or mine. But I want you to think of a side of the case far removed from questions of war policies or political expediency. Max Eastman, Art Young, John Reed and the others are not guilty. I listened to most of the trial myself and read a good deal of the record; and I know, as a lawyer who has tried many criminal cases, that evidence proving the charges of the indictment was quite lacking. After both sides had summed up, a distinguished professor of law, who sat in the court room throughout the entire trial, said to me that there was not a shred of evidence to substantiate the conspiracy charge. Aside from this, I know, as a friend of Eastman, Young and Reed, that there was no conspiracy or any intent to block the policy of the government. Whatever criticism of the war and conscription appeared, they uttered as individuals and without desire to prevent the operation of the law. While the jury was out, I had a talk with Marshal McCarthy, whom I knew when he was Jimmy Gerard's secretary. I told him that, in my opinion, a conviction was impossible, in view of the lack of evidence showing conspiracy. He replied that evidence didn't matter in such cases; that now juries convict anybody who is indicted and that he had little doubt at all as to the outcome of the case.
To me, this sort of thing the attempt by the government to convict innocent men of crimes as a part of the routine of carrying on a war for justice is infinitely horrible. When you consider that especially Eastman, Young and Reed (the others I do not know as well) are men of the finest social feeling, who, though endowed with unusual and highly marketable artistic and literary power, have chosen to live a hand-to-mouth existence, rather than compromise with their consciences and sell out the cause of democracy in which they have fought so loyally it seems the more incredible that the government of the United States has taken this mistaken stand.
You may remember that when you were running for re-election, John Reed was on the staff of the Metropolitan Magazine drawing a big salary. He antagonized his employers, and took his future in his hands by campaigning for you. By his articles on Rockefeller absolutism at Bayonne and other places, he lost power to sell his stuff to magazines and metropolitan papers; and last year, in spite of the fact that he is perhaps the most brilliant of all magazine reportorial correspondents, he became a hack reporter, covering prize-fights, etc. for an evening paper, until he worked himself up again through sheer talent and determination. Max Eastman, though a Socialist Party member, editing a socialist magazine, was almost thrown out of his party because, during the campaign, he pointed out the reasons why socialists should vote for you.
You know Young's work yourself. Lately he resigned from the Metropolitan Magazine, partly on account of his indictment, and partly because he would not preach the kind of camouflage parlor socialism that Whigham and Hovey demanded. No one can know Art Young without feeling the unselfishness and nobility of his character. These are the men whom the government is following up as if they were the most hardened criminals. They are being put on trial again on an indictment unsustained by evidence, and with, as the mainstay of conviction, the atmosphere of fear and hysteria which envelopes every jury that in war time is called upon to deal with those accused of disloyalty. And yet, in spite of such an atmosphere, the last jury disagreed. At least three men told the judge that they would sit in the jury room forever, if necessary, rather than vote to convict without evidence.
I believe Mr. President that, in view of the circumstances of this case, the prosecution should be dropped. Not to drop it is unjust not only to the defendants, but to the integrity of the government. It could be called off without publicity by a series of postponements, ending at length in a dismissal.

Very sincerely yours,
Amos pinchot

Letter

Wilson, Woodrow, 1856-1924