Eighty Years and More; Reminiscences 1815-1897
they are treated worse than the lowest class of criminals in the prisons
and mines of Siberia.
I had a very unpleasant interview, during this visit to London, with
Miss Lydia Becker, Miss Caroline Biggs, and Miss Blackburn, at the
Metropole, about choosing delegates to the International Council of
Women soon to be held in Washington. As there had been some
irreconcilable dissensions in the suffrage association, and they could
not agree as to whom their delegate should be, they decided to send none
at all. I wrote at once to Mrs. Priscilla Bright McLaren, pointing out
what a shame it would be if England, above all countries, should not be
represented in the first International Council ever called by a suffrage
association. She replied promptly that must not be, and immediately
moved in the matter, and through her efforts three delegates were soon
authorized to go, representing different constituencies--Mrs. Alice
Cliff Scatcherd, Mrs. Ormiston Chant, and Mrs. Ashton Dilke.
Toward the last of February, 1888, we went again to London to make a
few farewell visits to dear friends. We spent a few days with Mrs. Mona
Caird, who was then reading Karl Pearson's lectures on "Woman," and
expounding her views on marriage, which she afterward gave to the
Westminster Review, and stirred the press to white heat both in England
and America. "Is Marriage a Failure?" furnished the heading for our
quack advertisements for a long time after. Mrs. Caird was a very
graceful, pleasing woman, and so gentle in manner and appearance that no
one would deem her capable of hurling such thunderbolts at the
long-suffering Saxon people.
We devoted one day to Prince Krapotkine, who lives at Harrow, in the
suburbs of London. A friend of his, Mr. Lieneff, escorted us there. We
found the prince, his wife, and child in very humble quarters;
uncarpeted floors, books and papers on pine shelves, wooden chairs, and
the bare necessaries of life--nothing more. They indulge in no luxuries,
but devote all they can spare to the publication of liberal opinions to
be scattered in Russia, and to help Nihilists in escaping from the
dominions of the Czar. The prince and princess took turns in holding and
amusing the baby--then only one year old; fortunately it slept most of
the time, so that the conversation flowed on for some hours. Krapotkine
told us of his sad prison experiences, both in France and Russia. He
said the series of articles by George Kennan in the _Century_ were not
too highly colored, that the sufferings of men and women in Siberia and
the Russian prisons could not be overdrawn. One of the refinements of
cruelty they practice on prisoners is never to allow them to hear the
human voice. A soldier always accompanies the warder who distributes
the food, to see that no word is spoken. In vain the poor prisoner asks
questions, no answer is ever made, no tidings from the outside world
ever given. One may well ask what devil in human form has prescribed
such prison life and discipline! I wonder if we could find a man in all
Russia who would defend the system, yet someone is responsible for its
terrible cruelties!
We returned to Basingstoke, passed the few remaining days in looking
over papers and packing for the voyage, and, on March 4, 1888, Mrs.
Blatch went with me to Southampton. On the train I met my companions for
the voyage, Mrs. Gustafsen, Mrs. Ashton Dilke, and Baroness Gripenberg,
from Finland, a very charming woman, to whom I felt a strong attraction.
The other delegates sailed from Liverpool. We had a rough voyage and
most of the passengers were very sick. Mrs. Dilke and I were well,
however, and on deck every day, always ready to play whist and chess
with a few gentlemen who were equally fortunate. I was much impressed
with Mrs. Dilke's kindness and generosity in serving others. There was a
lady on board with two children, whose nurse at the last minute refused
to go with her. The mother was sick most of the way, and Mrs. Dilke did
all in her power to relieve her, by amusing the little boy, telling him
stories, walking with him on deck, and watching him throughout the day,
no easy task to perform for an entire stranger. The poor little mother
with a baby in her arms must have appreciated such kindly attention.
When the pilot met us off Sandy Hook, he brought news of the terrible
blizzard New York had just experienced, by which all communication with
the world at large was practically suspended. The captain brought him
down into the saloon to tell us all about it. The news was so startling
that at first we thought the pilot was joking, but when he produced the
metropolitan journals to verify his statements, we listened to the
reading and what he had to say with profound astonishment. The second
week in March, 1888, will be memorable in the history of storms in the
vicinity of New York. The snow was ten feet deep in some places, and the
side streets impassable either for carriages or sleighs. I hoped the
city would be looking its best, for the first impression on my foreign
friends, but it never looked worse, with huge piles of snow everywhere
covered with black dust.
I started for Washington at three o'clock, the day after our arrival,
reached there at ten o'clock, and found my beloved friends, Miss Anthony
and Mrs. Spofford, with open arms and warm hearts to receive me. As the
vessel was delayed two days, our friends naturally thought we, too, had
encountered a blizzard, but we had felt nothing of it; on the contrary
the last days were the most pleasant of the voyage.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE INTERNATIONAL COUNCIL OF WOMEN.
Pursuant to the idea of the feasibility and need of an International
Council of Women, mentioned in a preceding chapter, it was decided to
celebrate the fourth decade of the woman suffrage movement in the United
States by calling together such a council. At its nineteenth annual
convention, held in January, 1887, the National Woman Suffrage
Association resolved to assume the entire responsibility of holding a
council, and to extend an invitation, for that purpose, to all
associations of women in the trades, professions, and reforms, as well
as those advocating political rights. Early in June, 1887, a call was
issued for such a council to convene under the auspices of the National
Woman Suffrage Association at Washington, D. C, on March 25, 1888. The
grand assemblage of women, coming from all the countries of the
civilized globe, proved that the call for such a council was opportune,
while the order and dignity of the proceedings proved the women worthy
the occasion. No one doubts now the wisdom of that initiative step nor
the added power women have gained over popular thought through the
International Council.
As the proceedings of the contention were fully and graphically reported
in the _Woman's Tribune_ at that time, and as its reports were afterward
published in book form, revised and corrected by Miss Anthony, Miss
Foster, and myself, I will merely say that our most sanguine
expectations as to its success were more than realized. The large
theater was crowded for an entire week, and hosts of able women spoke,
as if specially inspired, on all the vital questions of the hour.
Although the council was called and conducted by the suffrage
association, yet various other societies were represented. Miss Anthony
was the financier of the occasion and raised twelve thousand dollars for
the purpose, which enabled her to pay all the expenses of the delegates
in Washington, and for printing the report in book form. As soon as I
reached Washington, Miss Anthony ordered me to remain conscientiously in
my own apartment and to prepare a speech for delivery before the
committees of the Senate and House, and another, as President, for the
opening of the council. However, as Mrs. Spofford placed her carriage at
our service, I was permitted to drive an hour or two every day about
that magnificent city.
One of the best speeches at the council was made by Helen H. Gardener.
It was a criticism of Dr. Hammond's position in regard to the inferior
size and quality of woman's brain. As the doctor had never had the
opportunity of examining the brains of the most distinguished women,
and, probably, those only of paupers and criminals, she felt he had no
data on which to base his conclusions. Moreover, she had the written
opinion of several leading physicians, that it was quite impossible to
distinguish the male from the female brain.
The hearing at the Capitol, after the meeting of the council, was very
interesting, as all the foreign delegates were invited to speak each in
the language of her own country; to address their alleged
representatives in the halls of legislation was a privilege they had
never enjoyed at home. It is very remarkable that English women have
never made the demand for a hearing in the House of Commons, nor even
for a decent place to sit, where they can hear the debates and see the
fine proportions of the representatives. The delegates had several
brilliant receptions at the Riggs House, and at the houses of Senator
Stanford of California and Senator Palmer of Michigan. Miss Anthony and
I spent two months in Washington, that winter. One of the great
pleasures of our annual conventions was the reunion of our friends at
the Riggs House, where we enjoyed the boundless hospitality of Mr. and
Mrs. Spofford.
The month of June I spent in New York city, where I attended several of
Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll's receptions and saw the great orator and
iconoclast at his own fireside, surrounded by his admirers, and heard
his beautiful daughters sing, which gave all who listened great
pleasure, as they have remarkably fine voices. One has since married,
and is now pouring out her richest melodies in the opera of lullaby in
her own nursery.
In the fall of 1888, as Ohio was about to hold a Constitutional
convention, at the request of the suffrage association I wrote an appeal
to the women of the State to demand their right to vote for delegates to
such convention. Mrs. Southworth had five thousand copies of my appeal
published and distributed at the exposition in Columbus. If ten
righteous men could save Sodom, all the brilliant women I met in
Cleveland should have saved Ohio from masculine domination.
The winter of 1888-89 I was to spend with my daughter in Omaha. I
reached there in time to witness the celebration of the completion of
the first bridge between that city and Council Bluffs. There was a grand
procession in which all the industries of both towns were represented,
and which occupied six hours in passing. We had a desirable position for
reviewing the pageant, and very pleasant company to interpret the
mottoes, symbols, and banners. The bridge practically brings the towns
together, as electric street cars now run from one to the other in ten
minutes. Here, for the first time, I saw the cable cars running up hill
and down without any visible means of locomotion.
As the company ran an open car all winter, I took my daily ride of nine
miles in it for fifteen cents. My son Daniel, who escorted me, always
sat inside the car, while I remained on an outside seat. He was greatly
amused with the remarks he heard about that "queer old lady that always
rode outside in all kinds of wintry weather." One day someone remarked
loud enough for all to hear: "It is evident that woman does not know
enough to come in when it rains." "Bless me!" said the conductor, who
knew me, "that woman knows as much as the Queen of England; too much to
come in here by a hot stove." How little we understand the comparative
position of those whom we often criticise. There I sat enjoying the
bracing air, the pure fresh breezes, indifferent to the fate of an old