they have been trained for the stage, like Olive Logan. No woman’s
voice can bear the tension of an hour and a quarter without becoming
husky and even painful to the last degree, and the speaker of the
evening was no exception to the rule. Grace Greenwood appeared upon
the platform in heavy black silk, with scarlet trimmings, which well
became her dark autumnal beauty. She has a face of character, like
Fanny Kemble, which glows and pales according to the combustion
within. She commenced her lecture by saying that “Horace Greeley has
said that old-fashioned domestic life has taken its departure.” She
said she hoped the time would come when the women would be developed
mentally, morally, physically, but about that time the millennium
would appear. She said woman, though denied the privilege of an
equal chance to earn her own living, yet had the same chance on the
scaffold, and the same swing at death. From English literature she
abstracted what purported to be a description of the ideal woman.
This creature was to be blessed with patience, a desire to stay at
home, little learning. By no means was she to know how to spell
correctly; as an accomplishment she was to know how to lisp. Then she
drew a picture of Fanny Kemble as Lady Macbeth, a woman whose trained
robe would sweep the men who concocted such pictures off the stage.
At one time she intended to write a course of lectures to young men,
but she did not say what deterred her from doing so. She gave us a
glowing description of home, but regretted that the homes of the
aristocracy were invaded by the “Jenkinses” and all the sacredness
therein laid bare. Among those she denominated as Jenkins were the
distinguished writers, George Alfred Townsend and Don Piatt. In
painting the home she gave the “old maid” the most exalted position,
and she decided that single life is not entirely bereft of comfort.
The marriage relation, its joys, its sorrows, its struggles, were
delineated with poetic fervor, and those who were fortunate enough to
hear her pronounced the evening’s entertainment a success.
Ten o’clock, January 18, the hour and day appointed for the Woman
Suffrage Convention, found Lincoln Hall decorated. Soon after a
few women came in; slowly the number increased until a small and
appreciative audience had gathered. Very few men were sprinkled
around, but quite enough to receive the anathemas that were to be
showered upon the whole sex. At just a quarter to 11 a side door from
the platform opened and some of the shining lights of the “cause”
came into view. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, majestic and beautiful as
a snowy landscape, came forward with that grace as indescribable
as it is incomparable. An elegant black silk and a camel’s hair
scarf made up her perfect costume. At her right sat Mrs. Pauline
Davis, of Providence, R. I., another exquisite picture of the snow.
She was most daintily attired in blue satin and black velvet, and
in the contemplation of this serene and noble picture the mind is
reconciled to old age. Susan B. Anthony was there in black silk,
with soft white lace around her throat, but even lace, frothy as
sea-foam, failed to relieve that practical face. Just what a gnarled
oak is amongst trees Susan B. Anthony is to her sex,--hard, obdurate,
uncompromising. Josephine Griffin, best among women, was there at her
post, one of the most earnest in the cause. Mrs. Wright, the sister
of Mrs. Mott, brought a kind greeting from that venerable woman, who
was kept at home by age and other infirmities. But the ornament of
the platform was Phœbe Couzins, of St. Louis, a young law student
of that distinguished city. Her elegant outfit was made of a light,
neutral-tinted silk adorned with tiny flounces. A double-breasted
jacket of blue velvet, with jaunty Lombardy hat to match, upon which
a bird of paradise seemed to nestle from choice. Don’t we pity the
judge when Phœbe shall plead before him! One flash from those eyes
surmounted by the arched brows--but, stop, the illusion is not
complete, the rosy lips are wanting. Henry Clay had a large mouth,
and it did not prevent his becoming a great lawyer.
A description of Professor J. K. H. Wilcox, so prominently identified
with the “cause,” is necessary, in order to show why, in some
respects, the movement is retarded. This man is afflicted with a
mild form of lunacy, after the form of George Francis Train, and,
like every other decoction of weakness, becomes sickening from its
insipidity. He is called professor, but the most minute inquiry
fails to discover by what means he has earned this appellation.
Like Train, whom he takes for his model, his object is notoriety,
and it is safe to assume he will achieve a success. Professor Wilcox
was entrusted with a message to his countrymen from Clara Barton,
who is now residing abroad. A few simple words were sent to the late
soldiers by this good woman, but why the paper should be read at a
woman’s meeting only Professor Wilcox can disclose.
But if the solemn women who represent the “cause” have a desire to
see the world move they had only to look at the reporter’s desk and
see the large yellow envelopes marked “New York _Tribune_.” Behind
the papers might be seen Miss Nellie Hutchinson, who has earned the
title of the “spicy little reporter of the _Tribune_.” Miss Nellie
allows her hair to wander in “maiden meditation, fancy free.” Her
jaunty military suit, trimmed with gilt cord and buttons, shows at
once her determination to win a battle. She is said to be a strong
advocate for the “cause,” and writes it up just as much as the
_Tribune_ will permit. As all valuable papers were handed to her by
Miss Anthony from the platform, whilst your correspondent was left
in the cold, she gives this fact as a slight proof of the kindness
bestowed upon a lady who is engaged upon the _Tribune_. As the
perusal of these papers was not shared by the correspondent of _The
Press_, any omissions are requested to be overlooked.
In a few handsome words, Mrs. Stanton introduced Miss Phœbe Couzins,
who began her brief address by quoting, “Westward the Star of Empire
takes its way.” Then she told us that the East must look to her
laurels, else she would wake up and find them stranded on the shores
of the Western rivers. Had Phœbe read the Scotch Parson in an old
number of the _Atlantic Monthly_ on the subject of “veal,” she never
would have gone so far sky-rockety on the subject of the Territory of
Wyoming. Mrs. Stanton says the subject is settled out there once and
forever.
Mrs. Paulina Davis read a letter from John Stuart Mill, in which he
said he regretted not being able to respond to their kind invitation,
but that he thought Americans abundantly able to take care of the
cause. He then eulogized his wife, and said she had been the means of
converting him.
Senator Pomeroy, the only man from Congress in the hall, followed
with a few appropriate remarks. But considering that Mrs. Pomeroy
was at home, and did not countenance the meeting with her presence,
it looked something like those electioneering dodges which the best
of politicians sometimes indulge in. Senator Pomeroy said he was no
new convert to the “theme.” The Scotch parson advises young people
never to talk about “themes,” but as Senator Pomeroy is no longer
young, the advice of the parson cannot be meant for him. The Senator
said he would not compel a woman to vote; he would simply remove the
impediments in the way. He talked about “the mountains near where God
dwells.” He said he had been waiting two months for petitions to be
sent in. Mrs. Stanton interrupted him and said she had brought them.
He said he was for carrying woman suffrage into the fundamental laws
of the land. He would let a Chinese vote, only a Chinese could not be
naturalized, and therefore could not vote. If a woman was convicted
of crime, she must die. A woman had once been hung in Washington.
This is the new year for the rallying question. He only hoped this
convention would be a triumphant success.
Susan B. Anthony then came forward and attempted to read a letter
from a Jersey “Honorable,” but the writing was so poor that she could
not. Then she explained what the man meant, but by what process is
known only to Susan herself.
Mrs. Cady Stanton came forward and said if the Republican party did
not come forth and champion the cause, the Democrats would, and
therefore infuse a new life into their decaying body. She also
instanced a case where a Democrat had paid the fare of all the ladies
in the omnibus that morning coming from the depot to the hotel.
The beautiful prayer delivered at the opening of the session by the
Rev. Mr. May, from Syracuse, was worthy of a better cause. The few
remarks which followed by the same man were more creditable to his
heart than head; but he was sincere and honest, and one could not
help but wish that more men like him could be found in the world.
The audience was made up mostly of women, but not the curled, dainty
fashionables of the capital. Sad-faced, sorrowful women were there. A
poor woman touched your correspondent on the arm, and asked if they
“got places for women to work here.” Queenly Mrs. Davis was reading,
regal in diamonds and point lace. The woman added, pointing to the
speaker, “Do you think she can help me?”
OLIVIA.
ELIZABETH CADY STANTON.
HOW SHE ENGINEERS THE SUFFRAGE MOVEMENT.
WASHINGTON, _January 19, 1870_.
The hour having arrived for the opening of the last evening’s
session, and the great lights not appearing on the stage, it was
moved by Professor Wilcox and seconded that Mrs. Joseph Griffing be
chosen temporarily to occupy the chair. The Hon. James M. Scovel, of
New Jersey, was asked to speak, and immediately began. He said it was
the coming question whether women shall have the ballot. He believed
the thing is right. His mother had said when she went to a village
and saw men coming out of a house she knew that to be a tavern;
when she saw women going in she knew that to be a church. It is not
flattery that women want; it is their rights. The time had been in
Jersey when women had no more rights than lunatics and idiots, and it
was not much better to-day. He didn’t come there to make a speech; he
came there a convert. We shall have no peace until women can go side
by side with men to the ballot-box. At this point Mr. Scovel retired,
having proved to the rather slim audience that “stump speaking” was
an accomplishment that sometimes made its escape from Jersey.
Again the irrepressible Wilcox appeared and read a letter which
he had received from the wife of O’Donovan Rossa, in answer to
his polite invitation to be present at the meeting. Madame Rossa
regretted that unavoidable departure from the country prevented her
attendance. She also added some nice things about liberty and her
good wishes for the speedy advancement of the cause.
Just as the letter was concluded, Mrs. Stanton swept upon the
stage, followed by the planets in her train. She came forward and
introduced Mrs. Wilbour, of New York. Mrs. Wilbour, stately in black
velvet, point applique, and diamonds, came forward and read a rather
prosy, dry essay. Mrs. Wilbour has a voice for public speaking
superior to most of her sex. She varied the old question by asking
for human rights instead of woman’s rights. She said it is urged that
woman has less force than man, and therefore, should not exercise
this inalienable right. She asked what should rule--force power or
beauty power? Brain not brawn rules this world. A small white hand
can move an engine, or wield a pen, an instrument stronger than the
sword. All that gives harmony to the world is the beautiful. Religion
beautifies the soul. A preponderance of beauty is on the feminine
side, but force is found on the masculine. Mrs. Wilbour talked about
the ballot as a little slip of paper. She might as well have spent
her strength on the paper wadding instead of the deadly bullet that
follows it. After a time the sleepy essay came to an end.
Mrs. Stanton then came forward, introducing the Hon. A. G. Riddle,
one of the most distinguished lawyers of the District. She prefaced
the introduction by calling him a lawyer but an honest man. He
gave us the argument; the audience were the jury, but no judge was
present to decide the case. Mr. Riddle said the question of the
final relation of the sexes had come for final adjudication. These
masculines must look the question in the face. It is so broad you
can’t go around it. As Mr. Riddle has said the best things so far, it
is to be regretted that so much of it has been lost.
The next speaker was Miss Couzins, of St. Louis. She said she felt
great trepidation in coming forward when she found the great men
at the national capital turning a cold shoulder for reasons of
policy, and the women given up to frivolity and fashion. She felt
like drinking inspiration from the West, where the leading people
were with her. She felt she was fighting a forlorn hope, but
Washington fought a forlorn hope at Valley Forge, and won a victory.
She graphically delineated the saying of women being classified
with lunatics, idiots, slaves, etc. Women have a right to demand
that the laws shall be changed in order to insure their happiness.
Women had been subjected from the time of William the Conqueror.
Bible authority is quoted to oppose the ballot; but there was no law
found there for a man and a separate law for woman. Men say when a
majority of women desire the ballot they shall have it. She said if
the majority had rights the minority had also. Deeds of heroism were
related. She said a monument was about to be erected in Washington,
dedicated to the martyrs who fell in the late war. The women of St.
Louis sent word to know if women were represented. They received the
answer: “No, but if the women of St. Louis would raise the money
for it, they should have a shaft placed near the monument, with the
Goddess of Liberty on the top of it.” She alluded to the freed women
of the South, forgetting however, to say that they, being an integral
part, were uplifted with the race. At a very late hour, with the
termination of Miss Couzin’s speech, the evening session closed.
The second day’s session was opened with a prayer by the Rev. Mr.
May, of Syracuse, who thus far has assumed the spiritual direction of
the movement. Mrs. Griffing came forward and said the great object of
the meeting was to secure legislation by Congress. The press follows
every reform with its scandal. Christ has arisen from the dead, and
the women all over the country are making application. Will Congress
adhere to the Constitution? She had hope and faith that Congress will
hear us. No ray of divine life quickens Congress. Women, raise your
voices in prayer. A eulogy to Stanton was pronounced, whom she styled
the last of the trinity of martyrs--John Brown, Abraham Lincoln, and
Edwin M. Stanton. She said that this discriminating word “male”
shall be expunged from every law of the District.
At this point of the speech Professor Wilcox came forward and
said that no effort had been put forth by the President to close
the Departments so that the clerks would be enabled to attend the
woman-suffrage convention. Mrs. Stanton said she had seen the
President, and he had said he was too busy to attend the convention,
so the cream of the movement was skimmed to confer with the ruler of
the Republic. This committee which is to beard the lion in his den is
composed of Mrs. Stanton, Miss Anthony, Mrs. Wright, Mrs. Wilbour,
Mrs. Davis, Rev. Olympia Brown, Phœbe Couzins, Mrs. Beecher Hooker
and several others. After this business matter was finished Miss
Anthony came forward to excuse the absence of Miss Lillie M. Peckham,
of Milwaukee, by saying she was detained at home by the sickness of
her brother. This incident went to prove that strong-minded women
have sympathies and feelings like other people. A few letters from
obscurity were brought forth, but did not add any brilliancy to the
proceedings.
At this point of the meeting Senator Pomeroy, who was on his way to
Congress, called in to give a word of encouragement. He said it was a
long time before the movement could even get the ear of the public.
Men were for making fighting the basis of suffrage. Who are those
who are called to bear arms? Would you disfranchise a man because he
is over forty-five? The military power is subservient to the civil.
This is a government of law, not of force. Who feeds, clothes, and
supports the soldiers in the field, and thus secures our victories?
Services were rendered by women in those hours who cannot vote. Women
have borne arms. In Northampton, Mass., near where the Senator was
born, was a tombstone on which was cut in the marble, “Her warfare is
accomplished.” This stands there in time-honored memory to prove the
military qualities of the sex. There was an inequality in the basis
of representation, and if the mothers, wives, and sisters were not so
much better than we are, they would not have borne the deprivations
of their rights. Remove the obstacle to education; open every hall
to black and white, male and female. Remove the obstacles; repeal
the law; I am for the sixteenth amendment; a woman is a citizen, and
should have the power to legislate in the District of Columbia. There
are places of employment not open to women. There are offices under
the government which women should have. We must “fight it out on this
line,”--but the quotation was left unfinished, and the distinguished
Senator sat down. But wishing to see the effect of his glowing words,
he moved that those women in the audience who wished to vote should
raise their hands. Not a score of hands were to be seen.
At this unfortunate moment Mrs. Stanton came forward to the rescue
of the bewildered Senator. “Allow me,” said this lieutenant-general,
“to correct the Senator. Those who wish to vote are requested to sit
still.”
The command was instantly obeyed. Not a woman was seen to move. The
Senator wiped the perspiration from his forehead and looked his
thanks to the gallant chief of the staff, whose strategy had saved
the day. Afterwards those who did not wish to vote were requested
to show their colors. A few women were noticed making themselves
conspicuous, but the great mass were not to be deluded into giving an
expression either one way or another.
Mrs. Stanton then introduced Madame Anneke, a German woman who could
not talk English, but could talk the language of the heart--an
immense woman, whose weight would reach the hundreds. The stage
shook under her powerful trampings. She made up for language in
pantomime. She drew her hands through her short hair as only a poet
can describe. She said she had waded fields of blood, but this had
not been her greatest trials. She had come from Wisconsin with a
heavy load--the petition of many hundreds who wanted to vote. She had
come with credentials from “t’ousands and t’ousands.” She appealed in
the name of Germany--in the name of all Europe. The enfranchisement
of women would be the enfranchisement of the whole human race.
Madame Anneke then retired, giving place to a woman as lean as she
was fat--a Quaker woman from Philadelphia. This dear, good old
Quakeress looked spiritual enough to be translated. She gave us some
good Quaker doctrine, such as Philadelphia knows all about, and her
remarks, for this reason, are omitted. She was called Mrs. Rachel
Moore Townsend.
After Mrs. Townsend the Rev. Olympia Brown came forward, the
brightest, freshest, strongest woman we have ever heard devoted to
the “cause.” She is a small woman, and looks exactly as one might
imagine Charlotte Bronte--a picture of exquisite nicety, from the
dainty point lace collar to the perfect fitting shoe.
She commenced her address to those who did not wish to vote: “You
may say you are in comfortable homes, with kind husbands and kind
fathers, and you may wonder what these strong-minded women want.
The temperance question alone shows the want of the ballot for the
drunkard’s wife. Women have been patient too long, and therefore
responsible in a degree for the sin of drunkenness. I wish women
would stand up and say they would not encourage men who use
intoxicating drinks and tobacco. We are seeking a nobler womanhood.
It is the duty of every mother to feel that she is responsible for
that society into which she sends her son. Our young lady should have
something to look forward to. A young lady, upon leaving school, told
her companion that she was sorry that school had ended, because she
would have nothing to do. ‘Can’t you stay at home and make pretty
things to wear?’ was the reply. This assertion and answer covered the
whole ground of young ladyhood.” When she first entered the world
as a young woman, she consulted her minister as to what she should
do. He told her to sit down at home and amuse herself reading, and
occasionally engage in a strictly private benevolence. The time will
come when women will go forth to make a name and a fortune just as
men do to-day. Women are told that Christ died for them; she would
tell them that Christ lived for them. He taught women a life of
earnestness, and she bade them go forth and follow his example. She
compared the workingmen of Europe to our own mechanics--the bone
and sinew of the land. “What makes the difference between them? It
is the ballot. When tanners can aspire to be President you can see
what the ballot can do. If it does so much for the men, it will do
equally as much for the women. We want every incentive to make women
brave, wise, and good. Let us learn not to fight with guns, but with
our tongues. The warfare is not ended until the ballot is in our
hands. Vermont will give women the ballot before the year is out,
and Connecticut will soon follow, for I have moved down there to
accomplish it. Only a perfected womanhood will satisfy the age.”
Mr. Stillman, the only man in the Rhode Island legislature who dared
to stand up for woman suffrage, came forward, but want of time
prevents an account of his speech.
Phœbe Couzins followed him after the same style of her first speech.
After she had finished Professor Wilcox came forward as the last
crowning glory of the day and moved that Harriett Beecher Stowe, in
her dire extremity, have the sympathy of the convention. Mrs. Stanton
said it was out of order, and the Professor exhaled.
OLIVIA.
ISABELLA BEECHER HOOKER.
FITTING REPRESENTATIVE OF A DISTINGUISHED FAMILY.
WASHINGTON, _January 20, 1870_.
Wednesday’s evening session opened with the usual brilliant array of
distinguished women on the stage. Among the number might have been
seen Mrs. Isabella Beecher Hooker, of Connecticut, another candidate
for immortality in this family so widely known to fame. Mrs. Hooker
is the beauty of the Beecher constellation. She has a dreamy, poetic
face, like the picture of Mrs. Browning, and the early snow has
been sprinkled among her curls. Mrs. Hooker is orthodox, and draws
inspiration from the old Calvinistic doctrines undefiled. She appears
timid almost to awkwardness. She says she intends to be a “speaker,”
and an assertion from a member of this family, like some kinds of
paper, is worth more than its face.
In the obscurest place on the platform sits the genius of the
convention, Jennie Collins, the factory girl of New England, with her
sad, hungry face. You can only remember the eyes, which look as if
there was something fierce and awful behind them ready to spring out
and bite.
The meeting is called to order by Mrs. Stanton, and is followed by
a few of her well-chosen words. She had hoped to have a company of
distinguished Senators and members, but unfortunately the Congressmen
were all hoarse. Two Senators had sent their regrets. Senator Ross
pleaded prior engagements, but sent his sympathy. Senator Carpenter
regretted that official duties prevented his coming, accompanied with
the usual condolence.