Eighty Years and More; Reminiscences 1815-1897
tight, he threw the bottles into the sea at various fashionable watering
places, hoping they would wash ashore. Walking the streets of London in
the evening he would slip his pamphlets into the hoods of old ladies'
cloaks, throw them in shop doors, and leave them in cabs and omnibuses.
We scattered ours in the cars, inclosed them in every letter we wrote or
newspaper we sent through the country.
The night before election Mr. Stanton and Professor Horace Smith spoke
in the Johnstown courthouse, and took rather pessimistic views of the
future of the Republic should James G. Blaine be defeated. Cleveland was
elected, and we still live as a nation, and are able to digest the
thousands of foreign immigrants daily landing at our shores. The night
of the election a large party of us sat up until two o'clock to hear the
news. Mr. Stanton had long been one of the editorial writers on the New
York Sun, and they sent him telegrams from that office until a late
hour. However, the election was so close that we were kept in suspense
several days, before it was definitely decided.
Miss Anthony left in December, 1884, for Washington, and I went to work
on an article for the North American Review, entitled, "What has
Christianity done for Women?" I took the ground that woman was not
indebted to any form of religion for the liberty she now enjoys, but
that, on the contrary, the religious element in her nature had always
been perverted for her complete subjection. Bishop Spaulding, in the
same issue of the Review, took the opposite ground, but I did not feel
that he answered my points.
In January, 1885, my niece Mrs. Baldwin and I went to Washington to
attend the Annual Convention of the National Woman Suffrage Association.
It was held in the Unitarian church on the 20th, 21st, and 22d days of
that month, and went off with great success, as did the usual reception
given by Mrs. Spofford at the Riggs House. This dear friend, one of our
most ardent coadjutors, always made the annual convention a time for
many social enjoyments. The main feature in this convention was the
attempt to pass the following resolutions:
"Whereas, The dogmas incorporated in religious creeds derived from
Judaism, teaching that woman was an after-thought in the creation,
her sex a misfortune, marriage a condition of subordination, and
maternity a curse, are contrary to the law of God (as revealed in
nature), and to the precepts of Christ, and,
"Whereas, These dogmas are an insidious poison, sapping the
vitality of our civilization, blighting woman, and, through her,
paralyzing humanity; therefore be it
"_Resolved_, That we call on the Christian ministry, as leaders of
thought, to teach and enforce the fundamental idea of creation,
that man was made in the image of God, male and female, and given
equal rights over the earth, but none over each other. And,
furthermore, we ask their recognition of the scriptural declaration
that, in the Christian religion, there is neither male nor female,
bond nor free, but all are one in Christ Jesus."
As chairman of the committee I presented a series of resolutions,
impeaching the Christian theology--as well as all other forms of
religion, for their degrading teachings in regard to woman--which the
majority of the committee thought too strong and pointed, and, after
much deliberation, they substituted the above, handing over to the Jews
what I had laid at the door of the Christians. They thought they had so
sugar-coated my ideas that the resolutions would pass without
discussion. But some Jews in the convention promptly repudiated this
impression of their faith and precipitated the very discussion I
desired, but which our more politic friends would fain have avoided.
From the time of the decade meeting in Rochester, in 1878, Matilda
Joslyn Gage, Edward M. Davis, and I had sedulously labored to rouse
women to a realization of their degraded position in the Church, and
presented resolutions at every annual convention for that purpose. But
they were either suppressed or so amended as to be meaningless. The
resolutions of the annual convention of 1885, tame as they are, got into
print and roused the ire of the clergy, and upon the following Sunday,
Dr. Patton of Howard University preached a sermon on "Woman and
Skepticism," in which he unequivocally took the ground that freedom for
woman led to skepticism and immorality. He illustrated his position by
pointing to Hypatia, Mary Wollstonecraft, Frances Wright, George Eliot,
Harriet Martineau, Mme. Roland, Frances Power Cobbe, and Victoria
Woodhull. He made a grave mistake in the last names mentioned, as Mrs.
Woodhull was a devout believer in the Christian religion, and surely
anyone conversant with Miss Cobbe's writings would never accuse her of
skepticism. His sermon was received with intense indignation, even by
the women of his own congregation. When he found what a whirlwind he had
started, he tried to shift his position and explain away much that he
had said. We asked him to let us have the sermon for publication, that
we might not do him injustice. But as he contradicted himself flatly in
trying to restate his discourse, and refused to let us see his sermon,
those who heard him were disgusted with his sophistry and
tergiversation.
However, our labors in this direction are having an effect. Women are
now making their attacks on the Church all along the line. They are
demanding their right to be ordained as ministers, elders, deacons, and
to be received as delegates in all the ecclesiastical convocations. At
last they ask of the Church just what they have asked of the State for
the last half century--perfect equality--and the clergy, as a body, are
quite as hostile to their demands as the statesmen.
On my way back to Johnstown I spent ten days at Troy, where I preached
in the Unitarian church on Sunday evening. During this visit we had two
hearings in the Capitol at Albany--one in the Senate Chamber and one in
the Assembly, before the Committee on Grievances. On both occasions Mrs.
Mary Seymour Howell, Mrs. Devereux Blake, Mrs. Caroline Gilkey Rogers,
and I addressed the Committee. Being open to the public, the chamber was
crowded. It was nearly forty years since I had made my first appeal in
the old Capitol at Albany. My reflections were sad and discouraging, as
I sat there and listened to the speakers and remembered how long we had
made our appeals at that bar, from year to year, in vain. The members of
the committee presented the same calm aspect as their predecessors, as
if to say, "Be patient, dear sisters, eternity is before us; this is
simply a question of time. What may not come in your day, future
generations will surely possess." It is always pleasant to know that
our descendants are to enjoy life, liberty, and happiness; but, when one
is gasping for one breath of freedom, this reflection is not satisfying.
Returning to my native hills, I found the Lenten season had fairly set
in, which I always dreaded on account of the solemn, tolling bell, the
Episcopal church being just opposite our residence. On Sunday we had the
bells of six churches all going at the same time. It is strange how long
customs continue after the original object has ceased to exist. At an
early day, when the country was sparsely settled and the people lived at
great distances, bells were useful to call them together when there was
to be a church service. But now, when the churches are always open on
Sunday, and every congregation knows the hour of services and all have
clocks, bells are not only useless, but they are a terrible nuisance to
invalids and nervous people. If I am ever so fortunate as to be elected
a member of a town council, my first efforts will be toward the
suppression of bells.
To encourage one of my sex in the trying profession of book agent, I
purchased, about this time, Dr. Lord's "Beacon Lights of History," and
read the last volume devoted to women, Pagan and Christian, saints and
sinners. It is very amusing to see the author's intellectual wriggling
and twisting to show that no one can be good or happy without believing
in the Christian religion. In describing great women who are not
Christians, he attributes all their follies and miseries to that fact.
In describing Pagan women, possessed of great virtues, he attributes all
their virtues to Nature's gifts, which enable them to rise superior to
superstitions. After dwelling on the dreary existence of those not of
Christian faith, he forthwith pictures his St. Teresa going through
twenty years of doubts and fears about the salvation of her soul. The
happiest people I have known have been those who gave themselves no
concern about their own souls, but did their uttermost to mitigate the
miseries of others.
In May, 1885, we left Johnstown and took possession of our house at
Tenafly, New Jersey. It seemed very pleasant, after wandering in the Old
World and the New, to be in my own home once more, surrounded by the
grand trees I so dearly loved; to see the gorgeous sunsets, the
twinkling fireflies; to hear the whippoorwills call their familiar note,
while the June bugs and the mosquitoes buzz outside the nets through
which they cannot enter. Many people complain of the mosquito in New
Jersey, when he can so easily be shut out of the family circle by nets
over all the doors and windows. I had a long piazza, encased in netting,
where paterfamilias, with his pipe, could muse and gaze at the stars
unmolested.
June brought Miss Anthony and a box of fresh documents for another
season of work on vol. III. of our History. We had a flying visit from
Miss Eddy of Providence, daughter of Mrs. Eddy who gave fifty thousand
dollars to the woman suffrage movement, and a granddaughter of Francis
Jackson of Boston, who also left a generous bequest to our reform. We
found Miss Eddy a charming young woman with artistic tastes. She showed
us several pen sketches she had made of some of our reformers, that were
admirable likenesses.
Mr. Stanton's "Random Recollections" were published at this time and
were well received. A dinner was given him, on his eightieth birthday
(June 27, 1885), by the Press Club of New York city, with speeches and
toasts by his lifelong friends. As no ladies were invited I can only
judge from the reports in the daily papers, and what I could glean from
the honored guest himself, that it was a very interesting occasion.
Sitting in the summerhouse, one day, I witnessed a most amusing scene.
Two of the boys, in search of employment, broke up a hornets' nest.
Bruno, our large Saint Bernard dog, seeing them jumping about, thought
he would join in the fun. The boys tried to drive him away, knowing that
the hornets would get in his long hair, but Bruno's curiosity outran his
caution and he plunged into the midst of the swarm and was soon
completely covered. The buzzing and stinging soon sent the poor dog
howling on the run. He rushed as usual, in his distress, to Amelia in
the kitchen, where she and the girls were making preserves and ironing.
When they saw the hornets, they dropped irons, spoons, jars, everything,
and rushed out of doors screaming. I appreciated the danger in time to
get safely into the house before Bruno came to me for aid and comfort.
At last they played the hose on him until he found some relief; the
maidens, armed with towels, thrashed right and left, and the boys, with
evergreen branches, fought bravely. I had often heard of "stirring up a
hornets' nest," but I had never before seen a practical demonstration of
its danger. For days after, if Bruno heard anything buzz, he would rush
for the house at the top of his speed. But in spite of these occasional