to maintain the fervor of the strikers. The leaders
threatened to make Paterson a "howling wilderness," an "industrial
graveyard," and "to wipe it off the map." This threat naturally arrayed
the citizens against the strikers, over one thousand of whom were
lodged in jail before the outbreak was over. Among the five ringleaders
arrested and held for the grand jury were Elizabeth Gurley Flynn and
Patrick Quinlan, whose trials attracted wide attention. Elizabeth Flynn,
an appealing young widow scarcely over twenty-one, testified that she
had begun her work as an organizer at the age of sixteen, that she had
not incited strikers to violence but had only advised them to picket and
to keep their hands in their pockets, "so that detectives could not put
stones in them as they had done in other strikes." The jury disagreed
and she was discharged. Quinlan, an unusually attractive young man, also
a professional I.W.W. agitator, was found guilty of inciting to violence
and was sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. After serving nine
months he was freed because of a monster petition signed by some
20,000 sympathetic persons all over the United States. Clergymen,
philanthropists, and prominent public men, were among the signers,
as well as the jurors who convicted and the sheriff who locked up the
defendant.

These cases served to fix further public attention upon the nature of
the new movement and the sort of revivalists its evangel of violence
was producing. Employers steadfastly refused to deal with the I.W.W.,
although they repeatedly asserted they were willing to negotiate with
their employees themselves. After three months of strike and turmoil the
mayor of Paterson had said: "The fight which Paterson is making is the
fight of the nation. Their agitation has no other object in view but
to establish a reign of terror throughout the United States." A large
number of thoughtful people all over the land were beginning to share
this view.

In New York City a new sort of agitation was devised in the winter of
1913-14 under the captaincy of a young man who quite suddenly found
himself widely advertised. Frank Tannenbaum organized an "army of the
unemployed," commandeered Rutgers Square as a rendezvous, Fifth
Avenue as a parade ground, and churches and parish houses as forts and
commissaries. Several of the churches were voluntarily opened to them,
but other churches they attempted to enter by storm. In March, 1914,
Tannenbaum l