Jackson Prison Industries - Historical Society of Michigan
Transcription
Jackson Prison Industries - Historical Society of Michigan
MICHIGAN’S RUM REBELLION by J. Anne Funderburg On Valentine’s Day 1920, less than a month after Prohibition began, a raid to enforce the Volstead Act ignited a firestorm in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. State constables raided three houses in Iron County, confiscated barrels of wine, and sparked a conflict dubbed the “Rum Rebellion.” NOVEMBER/DECEMBER | 43 W inemaking was a hallowed tradition among many Iron County families. They enjoyed having wine with their meals, and, regardless of what federal Prohibition laws existed, didn’t believe the government had a right to deny them that small pleasure. The Rum Rebellion began when a group of state constables seized wine at the home/grocery store of John Scalcucci, who lived with his brothers in Virgil Location, a mining camp. The constables expected the Scalcuccis to be indicted, and since the wine would be needed as evidence in court, they contacted Martin McDonough—the state’s attorney for Iron County—to ask for a secure place to store it before the trial. McDonough, however, disagreed with the seizure. He believed that the citizens of Iron County had the right to own wine based on exemptions in the Volstead law, Previous page: Prohibition in the United States was a hotly contested and widely disregarded law, which led to the use of federal agents to locate and punish violators. (Photo courtesy of the National Archives and Records Administration.) This page, above: Barrels of wine found in the basement of the Scalcucci brothers’ grocery store. This page, left: State Attorney Martin McDonough fought to defend the rights of Iron County citizens who possessed wine as permitted by the Volstead Act. (Both photos courtesy of the Iron County Historical & Museum Society.) Next page: Major A.V. Dalrymple and agent Leo Grove standing together in Chicago, Illinois. (Photo courtesy of the Chicago Daily News, Chicago History Museum, DN-0072347.) 44 | MICHIGAN HISTORY and was determined to protect that right. The attorney told the constables that they had no right to confiscate the wine and ordered them to return it. The constables flatly refused. They had procured a search warrant before the raid and were certain that the wine fit the Volstead law’s definition of an intoxicant—any beverage with an alcoholic content higher than one-half of one percent. To settle the matter, McDonough promised to take the Scalcucci case to court right away. TAKING THE CASE TO TRIAL The trial was held four days later at the Iron River Town Hall. There, it was proven that samples of the confiscated wine had an alcohol content of 5 to 14 percent, which classified it as illegal. However, the alcohol content wasn’t the only issue. The Volstead Act allowed citizens to keep all liquor they had made or purchased before January 17, 1920, as long as they did not sell it. The Scalcucci brothers had bought a railcar load of grapes and made their wine before the January deadline, and the dry law allowed them to store it in their home for personal use. Since the Scalcucci brothers lived and worked in the same building, they could keep the wine in their grocery store. Although McDonough was the prosecutor, he argued that the case should be dismissed because the Scalcuccis hadn’t sold the wine. “No evidence of a sale was obtained against these men,” he explained. “No indications lead to the belief that the store was being used as a place of public resort. No evidence has been obtained to show that wine was used as a product of trade or barter… The breath of suspicion has never been raised in this community against [the] Scalcucci brothers. They are honest, lawabiding, respectable citizens.” After hearing McDonough’s remarks, the judge dismissed the case. The Scalcuccis reclaimed their wine and returned home. FEDERAL AGENTS BECOME INVOLVED Not everyone agreed with the judge’s decision. Shortly after the trial, a state constable in Iron County contacted federal Prohibition officials and convinced them that the Scalcuccis had violated the dry law. A federal Prohibition agent named Leo Grove then led constables in another raid at the Scalcuccis’ store, where they found 11 barrels of wine. The constables loaded five barrels on a sleigh and headed toward constabulary headquarters in Caspian, Michigan. Agent Grove stayed at the Scalcuccis’ place to guard the other barrels until they could be moved to safe storage. News of the raid quickly reached McDonough, who dispatched deputy sheriffs to intercept the sleigh on the way to Caspian. When the two groups met on the road, the deputies accused the constables of seizing legal wine. Heated words and threats flew in all directions. The constables refused to surrender the wine, but they did agree to take the sleigh back to the Scalcuccis’ residence to consult with Grove. Meanwhile, McDonough hired a rig and rushed to the Scalcuccis’ place, taking two policemen with him. When McDonough arrived, he ordered Grove to leave the Scalcuccis alone because the court had already dismissed their case. Grove countered that the court had erred and accused McDonough of interfering with federal law enforcement. When McDonough demanded to see Grove’s search warrant and credentials, the agent admitted that he had neither a search warrant nor the standard I.D. card issued to Prohibition agents. He did, however, have a letter saying he was a federal agent. McDonough examined the letter but found it unconvincing. McDonough finally threatened to have Grove arrested, which prompted the agent to stand down for the time being. Though he left town, Grove vowed he would return to enforce Prohibition in Iron River. THE REBELLION MAKES HEADLINES It soon became clear that Grove wasn’t bluffing. After returning home from Iron River, he enlisted the help of Major A.V. Dalrymple, the federal official in charge of enforcing the Volstead Act in the Central West District, which included Michigan. Dalrymple was livid that McDonough and the local lawmen had defied a federal agent. He telegraphed the U.S. attorney general in Washington to request authorization to lead an armed force into Iron County. In his wire, Dalrymple declared that Iron River was staging “an actual revolt against the United States government.” Dalrymple’s telegram was immediately released to the press, which caused a general uproar in the media. Reporters wanted a bigger story, and the bombastic major was more than happy to oblige. “The federal representatives have been flouted, insulted, and practically driven from the Upper Peninsula,” he said. “We are organizing a force of armed revenue agents to make a ‘clean-up,’ and if this force proves insufficient we will issue a call for troops to act.” The major added that the federal government had given him carte blanche to restore order, with or without warrants. He vowed to arrest Martin McDonough and the local lawmen who had interfered with the enforcement of the Volstead law. “I shall put respect and fear of the law into Iron County, cost what it may,” he declared. Reporters, photographers, and newsreel cameramen rushed to Iron River to witness the upcoming conflict. When they arrived, however, they were surprised to see NOVEMBER/DECEMBER | 45 white towels, sheets, pillowcases, and even petticoats hanging from windows and rooftops. Dalrymple’s rhetoric had terrified the residents. They didn’t want to do battle with the federal government. The newsmen also discovered that, save the Scalcuccis’ barrels of wine, Iron River was bone dry. Frightened locals had spent hours ridding the town of liquor. Some residents had emptied their bottles or casks in their backyards and watched sadly as the liquid soaked into the snow. Others had loaded barrels of booze onto sleds or wagons and carried the contraband to hiding places in caves, mine shafts, or the woods. The locals had dried up Iron River so completely that the newsmen couldn’t find a single drink. “All the tricks and signs and passwords that work well with Milwaukee and Chicago bartenders are of no avail,” a reporter wrote. “This county is the driest Sahara in the United States.” Another newsman decided “to work the barbershops” to find a drink. “After two haircuts, five shaves, and a massage," he "had to give it up.” The locals wouldn’t sell him a drop of alcohol. MAJOR DALRYMPLE ARRIVES IN IRON RIVER On February 23, Dalrymple took the night train from his headquarters in Chicago to Iron River. While everyone waited for his arrival, the newsmen interviewed McDonough. The young attorney stated that the Rum Rebellion didn’t present a serious danger to federal authority. He would submit peaceably if Dalrymple or another federal officer tried to arrest him and would turn over any evidence the federal officials requested. In fact, McDonough would “cooperate with them in every way.” However, 46 | MICHIGAN HISTORY Major Dalrymple sorts through a storage room for contraband during the Prohibition Era. (Photo courtesy of the Chicago Daily News, Chicago History Museum, DN-0072348.) he would not allow Prohibition agents to arrest anyone in Iron County without a proper warrant and would do everything necessary to protect the citizens’ right to due process. Major Dalrymple arrived in Iron River around midnight, accompanied by 35 lawmen armed with submachine guns and revolvers holstered on their hips. State constables and federal Prohibition agents from Milwaukee were en route to join his force. After checking into a hotel and sleeping for a few hours, Dalrymple set out on his mission. He led his heavily armed troops to the home of Father H.J. Lenhart of St. Agnes Catholic Church. The priest’s basement had been chosen as the repository for confiscated alcohol because it “was the only place in the village” with a secure lock. Father Lenhart gave his key to Dalrymple and stood aside. Dalrymple’s men confiscated the Scalcuccis’ barrels of wine and carried them from the cellar to the street where the newsmen could see the show. Holding a sledgehammer borrowed from the local blacksmith, Dalrymple posed for still photos and newsreel footage. Then, he swung the heavy hammer and split open a wine cask. His agents joined in, smashing barrels and pouring 450 gallons of wine into the street, watching with satisfaction as it trickled down the gutter. A TENSE CONFRONTATION When the lawmen finished the demolition, they adjourned to a hotel for lunch. After eating, Major Dalrymple assembled his men in the hotel lobby to plan their next move. A newsman reported what happened next: “Quietly, there entered the front door a young man perhaps thirty-five, immaculately dressed, and apparently just from his barber’s.” Martin McDonough had arrived. He looked around, sized up the situation, and confronted Dalrymple. The attorney warned that if the federal agents laid a hand on any man in the county to arrest him, McDonough would have the entire gang arrested and thrown in jail. Dalrymple, incensed, replied hotly, “Oh, go on and peddle your papers!” McDonough remained cool. “I haven’t got any papers to peddle,” he remarked. “But I notice you have been peddling plenty of stuff to the papers. You seem to be an expert at it.” Dalrymple’s eyes flashed with anger, but McDonough didn’t stop there. He went on to call the major a liar, a publicity seeker, and “a natural-born grandstander.” The two men glared at one another— fisticuffs could start at any moment. It was the timely actions of a news photographer that ultimately broke the tension. Stepping forward, he asked McDonough if he wouldn’t mind posing for a picture. Another photographer suggested that Dalrymple be in the picture too. The enemies suddenly changed their demeanor, smiling and joking as they posed for still photos in the hotel lobby. Afterward they went outside, smiled, and shook hands for the newsreel cameras. The tension had dissipated, and both men seemed to be looking for a graceful exit. Dalrymple announced that he had received an urgent telegram from Washington, directing him to return to Chicago with his men to begin a new assignment. Michigan’s assistant attorney general and the U.S. district attorney in Grand Rapids had announced that they were coming to Iron River to assess the situation. McDonough agreed to confer with them before taking further action. The great Rum Rebellion had simply fizzled out. There would be no battle, nor a sensational news story. The newsmen grabbed their bags and rushed to catch the first train out of town. EPILOGUES AND THE END OF PROHIBITION After Dalrymple returned to his office in Chicago, he declared that he wasn’t finished with Iron County. “[T]he fight isn’t ended by any means. We’re going to attack in a new sector,” he stated. “Washington called us off, or we would have come back with prisoners, and I still think we’ll get them as soon as I have given all the facts to my superiors. Take it from me, that man McDonough is going to go to the penitentiary for what he has done.” Dalrymple’s bosses in Washington didn’t authorize another invasion to dry up Iron County. In fact, they greatly restricted his power by ordering him to ask the district attorney and the United States commissioner for pre-approval for all raids. In addition, they specified that U.S. Marshals must accompany the major’s agents on every raid and take custody of all confiscated alcohol. However, Major Dalrymple did enjoy one small victory—the satisfaction of seeing the Scalcucci brothers indicted for unlawful possession of intoxicants. They stood trial in federal court in Marquette, Michigan, where they were found guilty and fined $100 each. As time went on, Dalrymple became increasingly frustrated with his work because enforcing Prohibition proved impossible. He later argued that the Volstead Act should be modified to legalize beer and light wines. Finally, he resigned from his federal job in Chicago and moved to California to practice law. In April 1933, Dalrymple accepted the post of national director of the Prohibition Bureau, becoming the last person to hold that job before the Federal Bureau of Investigation took over Prohibition enforcement in August of that year. Although Dalrymple was not transferred to the FBI, he remained on the government payroll as a special investigator until his retirement. The Rum Rebellion made McDonough famous far beyond Iron River. He became a hero to a national audience of antiProhibition activists, many of whom urged him to run for president. He had critics too. A Chicago newspaper called him “the gasconading bootleggers’ hero” and “the bootleggers’ beau ideal.” A federal judge claimed that McDonough had “both misdirected and misadvised” the Scalcucci brothers, while the Illinois AntiSaloon League condemned him and demanded his indictment. The young attorney wasn’t indicted, however, and it wasn’t long before he attempted to parlay his sudden fame into a political career. McDonough eventually ran for U.S. Congress but lost. He also failed in his bid to become the Republican Party’s nominee for vice president of the United States. In the end, McDonough had the satisfaction of playing a minor but meaningful role in repealing the Volstead Act. He served as a delegate to the Michigan State Convention that voted to ratify the 21st Amendment, which officially repealed Prohibition on December 5, 1933. J. Anne Funderburg is the author of Bootleggers and Beer Barons of the Prohibition Era and Rumrunners: Liquor Smugglers on America’s Coasts, 1920-1933. NOVEMBER/DECEMBER | 47