She instructed me to go to Oregon immediately after her death and to

take her sister Mary and her niece Lucy with me, and we followed these

orders within a week of her funeral, arriving in Portland on the third

day of April. I had attempted too much, however, and I proved it

by fainting as I got off the train, to the horror of the friendly

delegation waiting to receive us. The Portland women took very tender

care of me, and in a few days I was ready for work, but we found

conditions even worse than we had expected. Miss Gregg had collapsed

utterly and was unable to give us any information as to what had been

done or planned, and we had to make a new foundation. Miss Laura Clay,

who had been in the Portland work for a few weeks, proved a tower of

strength, and we were soon aided further by Ida Porter Boyer, who came

on to take charge of the publicity department. During the final six

weeks of the campaign Alice Stone Blackwell, of Boston, was also with

us, while Kate Gordon took under her special charge the organization of

the city of Portland and the parlor-meeting work. Miss Clay went into the

state, where Emma Smith DeVoe and other speakers were also working, and

I spent my time between the office headquarters and "the road," often

working at my desk until it was time to rush off and take a train for

some town where I was to hold a night meeting. Miss Mary and Miss Lucy

Anthony confined themselves to office-work in the Portland headquarters,

where they gave us very valuable assistance. I have always believed that

we would have carried Oregon that year if the disaster of the California

earthquake had not occurred to divert the minds of Western men from

interest in anything save that great catastrophe.

On election day it seemed as if the heavens had opened to pour floods

upon us. Never before or since have I seen such incessant, relentless

rain. Nevertheless, the women of Portland turned out in force, led by

Mrs. Sarah Evans, president of the Oregon State Federation of Women's

Clubs, while all day long Dr. Pohl took me in her automobile from

one polling-place to another. At each we found representative women

patiently enduring the drenching rain while they tried to persuade men

to vote for us. We distributed sandwiches, courage, and inspiration

among them, and tried to cheer in the same way the women watchers, whose

appointment we had secured that year for the first time. Two women had

been admitted to every polling-place--but the way in which we had been

able to secure their presence throws a high-light on the difficulties we

were meeting. We had to persuade men candidates to select these women as

watchers; and the only men who allowed themselves to be persuaded

were those running on minority tickets and hopeless of election--the

prohibitionists, the socialists, and the candidates of the labor party.

The result of the election taught us several things. We had been told

that all the prohibitionists and socialists would vote for us. Instead,

we discovered that the percentage of votes for woman suffrage was about

the same in every party, and that whenever the voter had cast a straight

vote, without independence enough to "scratch" his ticket, that vote was

usually against us. On the other hand, when the ticket was "scratched"

the vote was usually in our favor, whatever political party the man

belonged to.

Another interesting discovery was that the early morning vote was

favorable to our Cause the vote cast by working-men on their way to

their employment. During the middle of the forenoon and afternoon, when

the idle class was at the polls, the vote ran against us. The late vote,

cast as men were returning from their work, was again largely in our

favor--and we drew some conclusions from this.

Also, for the first time in the history of any campaign, the

anti-suffragists had organized against us. Portland held a small body of

women with antisuffrage sentiments, and there were others in the state

who formed themselves into an anti-suffrage society and carried on

a more or less active warfare. In this campaign, for the first time,

obscene cards directed against the suffragists were circulated at the

polls; and while I certainly do not accuse the Oregon anti-suffragists

of circulating them, it is a fact that the cards were distributed as

coming from the anti-suffragists--undoubtedly by some vicious element

among the men which had its own good reason for opposing us. The "antis"

also suffered in this campaign from the "pernicious activity" of their

spokesman--a lawyer with an unenviable reputation. After the campaign

was over this man declared that it had cost the opponents of our measure

$300,000.

In 1907 Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont began to show an interest in suffrage

work, and through the influence of several leaders in the movement,

notably that of Mrs. Ida Husted Harper, she decided to assist in the

establishment of national headquarters in the State of New York. For a

long time the association's headquarters had been in Warren, Ohio, the

home of Mrs. Harriet Taylor Upton, then national treasurer, and it was

felt that their removal to a larger city would have a great influence

in developing the work. In 1909 Mrs. Belmont attended as a delegate

the meeting of the International Suffrage Alliance in London, and

her interest in the Cause deepened. She became convinced that the

headquarters of the association should be in New York City, and at

our Seattle convention that same year I presented to the delegates her

generous offer to pay the rent and maintain a press department for two

years, on condition that our national headquarters were established in

New York.

This proposition was most gratefully accepted, and we promptly secured

headquarters in one of the most desirable buildings on Fifth Avenue.

The wisdom of the change was demonstrated at once by the extraordinary

growth of the work. During our last year in Warren, for example, the

proceeds from the sale of our literature were between $1,200 and $1,300.

During the first year in New York our returns from such sales were

between $13,000 and $14,000, and an equal growth was evident in our

other departments.

At the end of two years Mrs. Belmont ceased to support the press

department or to pay the rent, but her timely aid had put us on our

feet, and we were able to continue our splendid progress and to meet our

expenses.

The special event of 1908 was the successful completion of the fund

President M. Carey Thomas of Bryn Mawr and Miss Mary Garrett had

promised in 1906 to raise for the Cause. For some time after Miss

Anthony's death nothing more was said of this, but I knew those two

indefatigable friends were not idle, and "Aunt Susan" had died in the

blessed conviction that their success was certain. In 1907 I received a

letter from Miss Thomas telling me that the project was progressing; and

later she sent an outline of her plan, which was to ask a certain number

of wealthy persons to give five hundred dollars a year each for a term

of years. In all, a fund of $60,000 was to be raised, of which we were

to have $12,000 a year for five years; $4,500 of the $12,000 was to be

paid in salaries to three active officers, and the remaining $7,500

was to go toward the work of the association. The entire fund was to be

raised by May 1, 1908, she added, or the plan would be dropped.

I was on a lecture tour in Ohio in April, 1908, when one night, as I was

starting for the hall where the lecture was to be given, my telephone

bell rang. "Long distance wants you," the operator said, and the

next minute a voice I recognized as that of Miss Thomas was offering

congratulations. "The last dollar of the $60,000," she added, "was

pledged at four o'clock this afternoon."

I was so overcome by the news that I dropped the receiver and shook in

a violent nervous attack, and this trembling continued throughout my

lecture. It had not seemed possible that such a burden could be lifted

from my shoulders; $7,500 a year would greatly aid our work, and $4,500

a year, even though divided among three officers, would be a most

welcome help to each. As subsequently arranged, the salaries did not

come to us through the National Association treasury; they were paid

directly by Miss Thomas and Miss Garrett as custodians of the fund. So

it is quite correct to say that no salaries have ever been paid by the

National Association to its officers.

Three years later, in 1911, another glorious surprise came to me in a

very innocent-looking letter. It was one of many in a heavy mail, and I

opened it absent-mindedly, for the day had been problem-filled.

The writer stated very simply that she wished to put a large amount into

my hands to invest, to draw on, and to use for the Cause as I saw fit.

The matter was to be a secret between us, and she wished no subsequent

accounting, as she had entire faith in my ability to put the money to

the best possible use.

The proposition rather dazed me, but I rallied my forces and replied

that I was infinitely grateful, but that the amount she mentioned was

a large one and I would much prefer to share the responsibility of

disbursing it. Could she not select one more person, at least, to

share the secret and act with me? She replied, telling me to make the

selection, if I insisted on having a confidante, and I sent her the

names of Miss Thomas and Miss Garrett, suggesting that as Miss Thomas

had done so much of the work in connection with the $60,000 fund, Miss

Garrett might be willing to accept the detail work of this fund.

My friend replied that either of these ladies would be perfectly

satisfactory to her. She knew them both, she said, and I was to arrange

the matter as I chose, as it rested wholly in my hands.

I used this money in subsequent state campaigns, and I am very sure

that to it was largely due the winning of Arizona, Kansas, and Oregon

in 1912, and of Montana and Nevada in 1914. It enabled us for the first

time to establish headquarters, secure an office force, and engage

campaign speakers. I also spent some of it in the states we lost then

but will win later--Ohio, Wisconsin, and Michigan--using in all more

than fifteen thousand dollars. In September, 1913, I received another

check from the same friend, showing that she at least was satisfied with

the results we had achieved.

"It goes to you with my love," she wrote, "and my earnest hopes for

further success--not the least of this a crowning of your faithful,

earnest, splendid work for our beloved Cause. How blessed it is that you

are our president and leader!"

I had talked to this woman only twice in my life, and I had not seen her

for years when her first check came; so her confidence in me was an even

greater gift than her royal donation toward our Cause.

XIV. RECENT CAMPAIGNS

The interval between the winning of Idaho and Utah in 1896 and that

of Washington in 1910 seemed very long to lovers of the Cause. We were

working as hard as ever--harder, indeed, for the opposition against us

was growing stronger as our opponents realized what triumphant woman

suffrage would mean to the underworld, the grafters, and the whited

sepulchers in public office. But in 1910 we were cheered by our

Washington victory, followed the next year by the winning of California.

Then, with our splendid banner year of 1912 came the winning of three

states--Arizona, Kansas, and Oregon--preceded by a campaign so full of

vim and interest that it must have its brief chronicle here.

To begin, we conducted in 1912 the largest number of campaigns we

had ever undertaken, working in six states in which constitutional

amendments were pending--Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Oregon, Arizona, and

Kansas. Personally, I began my work in Ohio in August, with the modest

aspiration of speaking in each of the principal towns in every one

of these states. In Michigan I had the invaluable assistance of Mrs.

Lawrence Lewis, of Philadelphia, and I visited at this time the region

of my old home, greatly changed since the days of my girlhood, and

talked to the old friends and neighbors who had turned out in force to

welcome me. They showed their further interest in the most satisfactory

way, by carrying the amendment in their part of the state.

At least four and five speeches a day were expected, and as usual

we traveled in every sort of conveyance, from freight-cars to eighty

horse-power French automobiles. In Eau Clair, Wisconsin, I spoke at the

races immediately after the passing of a procession of cattle. At the

end of the procession rode a woman in an ox-cart, to represent pioneer

days. She wore a calico gown and a sunbonnet, and drove her ox-team with

genuine skill; and the last touch to the picture she made was furnished

by the presence of a beautiful biplane which whirred lightly in the air

above her. The obvious comparison was too good to ignore, so I told my

hearers that their women to-day were still riding in ox-teams while

the men soared in the air, and that women's work in the world's service

could be properly done only when they too were allowed to fly.

In Oregon we were joined by Miss Lucy Anthony. There, at Pendleton, I

spoke during the great "round up," holding the meeting at night on

the street, in which thousands of horsemen--cowboys, Indians, and

ranchmen--were riding up and down, blowing horns, shouting, and singing.

It seemed impossible to interest an audience under such conditions, but

evidently the men liked variety, for when we began to speak they quieted

down and closed around us until we had an audience that filled the

streets in every direction and as far as our voices could reach. Never

have we had more courteous or enthusiastic listeners than those wild and

happy horsemen. Best of all, they not only cheered our sentiments,

but they followed up their cheers with their votes. I spoke from an

automobile, and when I had finished one of the cowboys rode close to

me and asked for my New York address. "You will hear from me later," he

said, when he had made a note of it. In time I received a great linen

banner, on which he had made a superb pen-and-ink sketch of himself

and his horse, and in every corner sketches of scenes in the different

states where women voted, together with drawings of all the details of

cowboy equipment. Over these were drawn the words:

WOMAN SUFFRAGE--WE ARE ALL FOR IT.

The banner hangs to-day in the National Headquarters.

In California Mr. Edwards presented me with the money to purchase the

diamond in Miss Anthony's flag pin representing the victory of his state

the preceding year; and in Arizona one of the highlights of the campaign

was the splendid effort of Mrs. Frances Munds, the state president, and

Mrs. Alice Park, of Palo Alto, California, who were carrying on the work

in their headquarters with tremendous courage, and, as it seemed to me,

almost unaided. Mrs. Park's specialty was the distribution of suffrage

literature, which she circulated with remarkable judgment. The Governor

of Arizona was in favor of our Cause, but there were so few active

workers available that to me, at least, the winning of the state was a

happy surprise.

In Kansas we stole some of the prestige of Champ Clark, who was making

political speeches in the same region. At one station a brass-band and

a great gathering were waiting for Mr. Clark's train just as our train

drew in; so the local suffragists persuaded the band to play for us,

too, and I made a speech to the inspiring accompaniment of "Hail to the

Chief." The passengers on our train were greatly impressed, thinking it

was all for us; the crowd at the station were glad to be amused until

the great man came, and I was glad of the opportunity to talk to so many

representative men--so we were all happy.

In the Soldiers' Home at Leavenworth I told the old men of the days when

my father and brothers left us in the wilderness, and my mother and I

cared for the home while they fought at the front--and I have always

believed that much of the large vote we received at Leavenworth was cast

by those old soldiers.

No one who knows the conditions doubts that we really won Michigan that

year as well as the three other states, but strange things were done in

the count. For example, in one precinct in Detroit forty more votes were

counted against our amendment than there were voters in the district. In

other districts there were seven or eight more votes than voters.

Under these conditions it is not surprising that, after the vigorous

recounting following the first wide-spread reports of our success,

Michigan was declared lost to us.

The campaign of 1914, in which we won Montana and Nevada, deserves

special mention here. I must express also my regret that as this book

will be on the presses before the campaign of 1915 is ended, I cannot

include in these reminiscences the results of our work in New York and

other states.

As a beginning of the 1914 campaign I spent a day in Chicago, on the way

to South Dakota, to take my part in a moving-picture suffrage play. It

was my first experience as an actress, and I found it a taxing one. As

a modest beginning I was ordered to make a speech in thirty-three

seconds--something of a task, as my usual time allowance for a speech is

one hour. The manager assured me, however, that a speech of thirty-three

seconds made twenty-seven feet of film--enough, he thought, to convert

even a lieutenant-governor!

The Dakota campaigns, as usual, resolved themselves largely into feats

of physical endurance, in which I was inspired by the fine example of

the state presidents--Mrs. John Pyle of South Dakota and Mrs. Clara

V. Darrow of North Dakota. Every day we made speeches from the rear

platform of the trains on which we were traveling--sometimes only two

or three, sometimes half a dozen. One day I rode one hundred miles in an

automobile and spoke in five different towns. Another day I had to make

a journey in a freight-car. It was, with a few exceptions, the roughest

traveling I had yet known, and it took me six hours to reach my

destination. While I was gathering up hair-pins and pulling myself

together to leave the car at the end of the ride I asked the conductor

how far we had traveled.

"Forty miles," said he, tersely.

"That means forty miles AHEAD," I murmured. "How far up and down?"

"Oh, a hundred miles up and down," grinned the conductor, and the

exchange of persiflage cheered us both.

Though we did not win, I have very pleasant memories of North Dakota,

for Mrs. Darrow accompanied me during the entire campaign, and took

every burden from my shoulders so efficiently that I had nothing to do

but make speeches.

In Montana our most interesting day was that of the State Fair, which

ended with a suffrage parade that I was invited to lead. On this

occasion the suffragists wished me to wear my cap and gown and my

doctor's hood, but as I had not brought those garments with me, we

borrowed and I proudly wore the cap and gown of the Unitarian minister.

It was a small but really beautiful parade, and all the costumes for it

were designed by the state president, Miss Jeannette Rankin, to whose

fine work, by the way, combined with the work of her friends, the

winning of Montana was largely due.

In Butte the big strike was on, and the town was under martial law. A

large banquet was given us there, and when we drove up to the club-house

where this festivity was to be held we were stopped by two armed guards

who confronted us with stern faces and fixed bayonets. The situation

seemed so absurd that I burst into happy laughter, and thus deeply

offended the earnest young guards who were grasping the fixed bayonets.

This sad memory was wiped out, however, by the interest of the

banquet--a very delightful affair, attended by the mayor of Butte and

other local dignitaries.

In Nevada the most interesting feature of the campaign was the splendid

work of the women. In each of the little towns there was the same spirit

of ceaseless activity and determination. The president of the State

Association, Miss Anne Martin, who was at the head of the campaign work,

accompanied me one Sunday when we drove seventy miles in a motor and

spoke four times, and she was also my companion in a wonderful journey

over the mountains. Miss Martin was a tireless and worthy leader of the

fine workers in her state.

In Missouri, under the direction of Mrs. Walter McNabb Miller, and in

Nebraska, where Mrs. E. Draper Smith was managing the campaign, we

had some inspiring meetings. At Lincoln Mrs. William Jennings Bryan

introduced me to the biggest audience of the year, and the programme

took on a special interest from the fact that it included Mrs. Bryan's

debut as a speaker for suffrage. She is a tall and attractive woman with

an extremely pleasant voice, and she made an admirable speech--clear,

terse, and much to the point, putting herself on record as a strong

supporter of the woman-suffrage movement. There was also an amusing

aftermath of this occasion, which Secretary Bryan himself confided to

me several months later when I met him in Atlantic City. He assured me,

with the deep sincerity he assumes so well, that for five nights after

my speech in Lincoln his wife had kept him awake listening to her report

of it--and he added, solemnly, that he now knew it "by heart."

A less pleasing memory of Nebraska is that I lost my voice there and my

activities were sadly interrupted. But I was taken to the home of Mr.

and Mrs. Francis A. Brogan, of Omaha, and supplied with a trained nurse,

a throat specialist, and such care and comfort that I really enjoyed the

enforced rest--knowing, too, that the campaign committee was carrying on

our work with great enthusiasm.

In Missouri one of our most significant meetings was in Bowling Green,

the home of Champ Clark, Speaker of the House. Mrs. Clark gave a

reception, made a speech, and introduced me at the meeting, as Mrs.

Bryan had done in Lincoln. She is one of the brightest memories of

my Missouri experience, for, with few exceptions, she is the most

entertaining woman I have ever met. Subsequently we had an all-day motor

journey together, during which Mrs. Clark rarely stopped talking and I

even more rarely stopped laughing.

XV. CONVENTION INCIDENTS

From 1887 to 1914 we had a suffrage convention every year, and I

attended each of them. In preceding chapters I have mentioned various

convention episodes of more or less importance. Now, looking back

over them all as I near the end of these reminiscences, I recall a few

additional incidents which had a bearing on later events. There was,

for example, the much-discussed attack on suffrage during the Atlanta

convention of 1895, by a prominent clergyman of that city whose name I

mercifully withhold. On the Sunday preceding our arrival this gentleman

preached a sermon warning every one to keep away from our meetings, as

our effort was not to secure the franchise for women, but to encourage

the intermarriage of the black and white races. Incidentally he declared

that the suffragists were trying to break up the homes of America

and degrade the morals of women, and that we were all infidels and

blasphemers. He ended with a personal attack on me, saying that on the

previous Sunday I had preached in the Epworth Memorial Methodist Church

of Cleveland, Ohio, a sermon which was of so blasphemous a nature that

nothing could purify the church after it except to burn it down.

As usual at our conventions, I had been announced to preach the sermon

at our Sunday conference, and I need hardly point out that the reverend

gentleman's charge created a deep public interest in this effort. I

had already selected a text, but I immediately changed my plans and

announced that I would repeat the sermon I had delivered in Cleveland

and which the Atlanta minister considered so blasphemous. The

announcement brought out an audience which filled the Opera House and

called for a squad of police officers to keep in order the street crowd

that could not secure entrance. The assemblage had naturally expected

that I would make some reply to the clergyman's attack, but I made no

reference whatever to him. I merely repeated, with emphasis, the sermon

I had delivered in Cleveland.

At the conclusion of the service one of the trustees of my reverend

critic's church came and apologized for his pastor. He had a high regard

for him, the trustee said, but in this instance there could be no doubt

in the mind of any one who had heard both sermons that of the two mine

was the tolerant, the reverent, and the Christian one. The attack made

many friends for us, first because of its injustice, and next because of

the good-humored tolerance with which the suffragists accepted it.

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