Sacco Aftermath

It was dawn in Europe before the State of Massachusetts had finished with the Messrs. Sacco & Vanzetti and some press representatives called at a small house in Torre Maggiore, Italy. An old man, Michele Sacco, had been sitting motionless in a corner of this house for days. A younger man, Sabino Sacco, met the early visitors at the door, scanned their faces, burst into tears, fled to his father. The old man stiffened, screamed, fell back muttering maledictions. "They have killed my innocent son," he babbled.

Other Europeans had time to sit up in bed and rub their eyes before reading confirmation of an event which many of them had doubted could actually come to pass.

The Press. With few exceptions, of course, the press of the world confused the State of Massachusetts with the U. S. A. Reactions followed political colorations.

Conservative papers in England, Germany, Scandinavia, hesitated to express opinions or advice on a case falling entirely within the province of U. S. jurisprudence. One German editor, however, welcomed the U. S. into the fellowship of European "humanity, justice and culture" for its supposed stand against the forces of Communism.

The Fascist journals of Italy expressed matter-of-fact approval, tinged with scorn for the inefficiency which delayed the execution for seven years.

The Vatican suavely disapproved, declaring semi-officially: "...The moral efficacy of the electrocution is not only destroyed but completely reversed."

From that guarded statement, disapproval shaded off sharply, through humanitarian protests in liberal and bourgeois organs, to the inflammatory shrieks and ravings of radicalism.

The World Scene was like a balloon full of illuminating gas with leaks which are invisible until ignited. The electricity from Boston ignited demonstrations from Detroit (see p. 10) to New South Wales, from Sweden to Mexico City.

In South America, the volatile-- and indolent--inhabitants of Paraguay and Argentina were easily persuaded to stop all work. But these "general strikes" lasted only two days. In Mexico, surprisingly, there was only a one-hour strike. There was rioting but allegedly not on account of Sacco & Vanzetti. A boycott of U. S. goods was vetoed by laborites.

In Japan, the U. S. embassy received many naive notes asking that the honorable diplomats release the honorable prisoners at once. In Sweden, some 6,000 workers idled. In Johannesburg, South Africa, a U. S. flag was incinerated on the steps of the Town Hall.

Swiss radicals were comically violent; Britons vaguely, Germans stupidly, Frenchmen hysterically violent.

In Geneva, a mob of 5,000 took possession of the city. They smashed about $40,000 worth of plate glass and merchandise in their fellow-citizens' shop windows. They badly damaged the Palace of the League of Nations, to which the U. S. does not belong. Police protected the U. S. Consulate and U. S. Consul Somerville Pinkney Tuck avoided trouble by a quick-witted remark. As he moved, unrecognized among the rioters, a woman stuck a nasty, leering face close to his and shouted loudly: "We wish to kill this American Consul pig!"* "Yes," said Mr. Tuck, "he is a rascal," and went home.

Dame Rachel Crowdy, Chief of Social Questions and Opium Traffic Section of the League of Nations, was driving home in her Ford car. The latter "was promptly suspected of complicity." Unable to find a brave garage owner, Dame Crowdy had to park the offender under a tree, walk home.

In London, several newspapers signalized the executions with special editions. Hyde Park, the commonwealth safety valve, was jammed next evening with demonstrators and mounted police. A few sang "The Red Flag" near Buckingham Palace. About 40 had their pates cracked or bodies trampled when, following a prayer for the dead, thousands were driven away from the Marble Arch by determined bobbies.

In Berlin, the Red press had a handy, if illogical, target for its jibes in Mayor James J. Walker of New York City, there sight-seeing (see p. 10). Some of the 1,500 demonstrators at Hamburg derailed a trolley car, slung it across the street for a barricade, showered stones and bottles on the police. A group of 60 cornered a young police sergeant and slaughtered him.

In Paris, an assorted rabble met at a rendezvous solemnly given them by L'Humanite, radical daily. In five columns of 1,000 each they marched upon the U. S. Embassy, which was ringed with fixed bayonets. Police on horses and in motor trucks, lurking in courts and alleys for just such a movement, debouched upon the marchers. The steel ring around the embassy did not break, but the widely deployed rioters--many of them ignorant street gamins thirsting for plunder--had their way with 4,000,000 ($160,000) francs worth of window glass, mirrors, crockery, shop goods. Next day there were 124 French police, and four times as many rioters, in Paris hospitals. Renewed police efforts kept in hand the next evening's attempt at a bigger & better riot. On the third day, all France was aroused by a report, perhaps cleverly fabricated, that Communists had spat upon "and otherwise defiled" the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Every War veteran in France was immediately summoned to a parade to efface this insult. Ten thousand responded, bringing heaps of wreaths to replace those soiled and kicked about by desecrators. The American Legion announced that it would decorate the tomb daily during its reunion visit in Paris.

French Socialists started a political campaign to abolish capital punishment in France.

Lyons and Cherbourg were the scenes of other French radical eruptions. In Cherbourg, the rioters built a barricade of coal wagons and barrels, were charged by colonial (Negro) infantry. There were more sabre cuts than killings.

In Moscow. With large contracts and concessions, especially in oil, pending with U. S. capitalists, the Soviet chiefs at Moscow were reported sorely vexed by the anti-U. S. flavor of their partisans' performances. Edicts went forth covertly telling the Comrades to confine their demonstrations to general attacks on the hated bourgeoisie; to be more polite to specific governments. All Musco- vites were called out for a street parade "in the struggle against bourgeoisie justice." The State Cinema Trust rushed production of a film called "Sacco-Vanzetti."

* Meaning Mr. Tuck.