ANNA ELIZABETH DICKINSON.
Foremost among the women who understood the political significance of the great conflict, was Miss Dickinson, a young girl of Quaker ancestry, who possessed remarkable oratorical power, a keen sense of justice, and an intense earnestness of purpose. In the heated discussions of Anti-Slavery Conventions, she had acquired a clear comprehension of the province of laws and constitutions; of the fundamental principles of governments, and the rights of man. Like a meteor, she appeared suddenly in the political horizon, as if born for the eventful times in which she lived, and inspired by the dangers that threatened the life of the republic.
At the very beginning of the war her radical utterances were heard at different points in her native State.[31] Her admirable speech on the higher law, first made at Kennett Square, and the discussion that followed, in which Miss Dickinson maintained her position with remarkable clearness and coolness for one of her years, were a surprise to all who listened. The flattering reports of this meeting in several of the Philadelphia journals introduced her at once to the public.
On the evening of February 27, 1861, she addressed eight hundred people in Concert Hall, Philadelphia. This was her first appearance before so large an assembly, and the first time she had the sole responsibility of entertaining an audience for an entire evening. She spoke two full hours extemporaneously, and the lecture was pronounced a success, not only by the press, but by the many notables and professional men present. Although it was considered a marvelous performance for a young girl, Miss Dickinson herself was mortified, as she said, with the length of her speech and its lack of point, order, and arrangement.
Soon after, she entered the United States Mint, to labor from seven o'clock in the morning to six at night. Although she was ever faithful to her duties and skillful in everything she undertook, soon becoming the most rapid adjuster in the Mint, her radical criticisms on the war and its leaders cost her the loss of the place. At a meeting just after the battle of Ball's Bluff, in summing up the record, after exonerating Stone and Baker, she said, "Future history will show that this battle was lost not through ignorance and incompetence, but through the treason of the commanding general, George B. McClellan, and time will vindicate the truth of my assertion." She was hissed all over the house, though some cried, "Go on!" "Go on!" She repeated this startling assertion three times, and each time was hissed.
When Gen. McClellan was running against Lincoln in 1864, after she had achieved a world-wide reputation, she was sent by the Republican Committee of Pennsylvania to this same town, to speak to the same people, in the same hall. In again summing up the incidents of the war, when she came to Ball's Bluff, she said, "I say now, as I said three years ago, history will record that this battle was lost, not through ignorance or incompetence, but through the treason of the commanding general, George B. McClellan." "And time has vindicated your assertion," was shouted all over the house.
It was the speech made in 1861, that cost her her place in the mint, for while laboring there daily with her hands, her mind was not inactive nor indifferent to the momentous events transpiring about her. She kept a close watch of the progress of the war, and the policy of the Republican leaders. When ex-Governor Pollock dismissed her, he admitted that his reason was that Westchester speech, for at that time McClellan was the idol of the nation.[32]
With remarkable prescience all through the war, and the period of reconstruction, Miss Dickinson took the advance position. Wendell Phillips used to say that "she was the young elephant sent forward to try the bridges to see if they were safe for older ones to cross." When wily politicians found that her criticisms were applauded by immense audiences, they gained courage to follow her lead. As popular thought was centering everywhere on national questions, Miss Dickinson thought less of the special wrongs of women and negroes and more of the causes of revolutions and the true basis of government; hence she spoke chiefly on the political aspects of the war, and thus made herself available in party politics at once.
In the intervals of public speaking, she made frequent visits to the Government hospitals, and became a most welcome guest among our soldiers. In long conversations with them, she learned their individual histories, experiences, hardships, and sufferings; the motives that prompted them to go into the army; what they saw there; what they thought of war in their hours of solitude, away from the camp and the battle-field. Thus she acquired an insight into the soldier's life and feelings, and from these narratives drew her materials for that deeply interesting lecture on hospital life, which she delivered in many parts of the country.
This lecture, given in Concord, New Hampshire, in the autumn of 1862, was the turning-point of her fortunes. In this speech she proved slavery to be the cause of the war, that its continuance would result in prolonged suffering to our soldiers, defeat to our armies, and the downfall of the Republic. She related many touching incidents of her experiences in hospital life, and drew such vivid pictures of the horrors of both war and slavery, that by her pathos and logic, she melted her audience to tears, and forced the most prejudiced minds to accept her conclusions.
It was on this occasion that the Secretary of the State Central Committee heard her for the first time. He remarked to a friend at the close of the lecture, "If we can get this girl to make that speech all through New Hampshire we can carry the Republican ticket in the coming election." Fully appreciating her magnetic power over an audience, he resolved at once, that if the State Committee refused to invite her, he should do so on his own responsibility. But through his influence she was invited by the Republican Committee, and on the first of March commenced her regular campaign speeches. During the four weeks before election she spoke twenty times, everywhere to crowded, enthusiastic audiences. Her march through the State was a succession of triumphs, and ended in a Republican victory.
The member in the first district having no faith that a woman could influence politics, sent word to the Secretary, "Don't send that damn woman down here to defeat my election." The Secretary replied, "We have work enough for her to do in other districts without interfering with you." But when the would-be honorable gentleman saw the furor she created, he changed his mind, and inundated the Secretary with letters to have her sent there. But the Secretary replied, "It is too late; the programme is arranged and published throughout the State; you would not have her when you could, and now you can not have her when you will."
It is pleasant to record that this man, who had the moral hardihood to send a profane adjective over the wires, with the name of this noble girl, lost his election. While all other districts went strongly Republican, his was lost by a large majority. When the news came that the Republicans had carried the State, due credit was awarded to Anna Dickinson. The Governor-elect made personal acknowledgment that her eloquent speeches had secured his election. She was serenaded, feasted, and feted, the recipient of many valuable presents, and eulogized by the press and the people.
New Hampshire safe, all eyes were now turned to Connecticut. The contest there was between Seymour and Buckingham. It was generally conceded that, if Seymour was elected, Connecticut would give no more money or troops for the war. The Republicans were completely disheartened. They said nothing could prevent the Democrats from carrying the State by four thousand, while the Democrats boasted that they would carry it by ten thousand. Though the issue was one of such vital importance, there seemed so little hope of success, that the Republicans were disposed to give it up without making an effort. And no resistance to this impending calamity was made until Anna Dickinson went into the State, and galvanized the desponding loyalists to life. She spent two weeks there, and completely turned the tide of popular sentiment. Democrats, in spite of the scurrilous attacks made on her by some of their leaders and editors, received her everywhere with the warmest welcome, tore off their party badges, substituted her likeness, and applauded whatever she said. The halls where she spoke were so densely packed, that Republicans stayed away to make room for the Democrats, and the women were shut out to give place to those who could vote. There never was such enthusiasm over an orator in this country. The period of her advent, the excited condition of the people, her youth, beauty, and remarkable voice, and wonderful magnetic power, all heightened the effect of her genius, and helped to produce this result. Her name was on every lip; ministers preached about her, prayed for her, as a second Joan of Arc, raised up by God to save that State to the loyal party, and through it the nation to freedom and humanity. As the election approached, the excitement was intense; and when at last it was announced that the State was saved by a few hundred votes, the joy and gratitude of the crowds knew no bounds. They shouted and hurrahed for Anna Dickinson, serenaded her with full bands of music, sent her books, flowers, and ornaments, manifesting in every way their love and loyalty to this gifted girl, who through so many years had bravely struggled with poverty to this proud moment of success in her country's cause. Some leading gentlemen of the State who had invited her there presented her a gold watch and chain, a hundred dollars for every night she had spoken, and four hundred for the last night before election, in Hartford. The comments of the press, though most flattering, give the reader but a faint idea of the enthusiasm of the people.[33]
Fresh from the victories in New Hampshire and Connecticut, she was announced to speak in Cooper Institute, New York. That meeting, in May, 1862, was the most splendid ovation to a woman's genius since Fanny Kemble, in all the wealth of her youth, beauty, and wonderful dramatic power, appeared on the American stage for the first time. There never was such excitement over any meeting in New York; hundreds went away unable even to get standing places in the lobbies and outer halls. The platform was graced with the most distinguished men and women in the country, and so crowded that the young orator had scarce room to stand. There were clergymen, generals, admirals, judges, lawyers, editors, the literati, and leaders of fashion, and all alike ready to do homage to this simple girl, who moved them alternately to laughter and tears, to bursts of applause and the most profound silence.
Henry Ward Beecher, who presided, introduced the speaker in his happiest manner. For nearly two hours she held that large audience with intense interest and enthusiasm, and when she finished with a beautiful peroration, the people seemed to take a long breath, as if to find relief from the intensity of their emotions. Loud cries followed for Mr. Beecher; but he arose, and with great feeling and solemnity, said: "Let no man open his lips here to-night; music is the only fitting accompaniment to the eloquent utterances we have heard." The Hutchinsons closed with one of their soul-stirring ballads, and the audience slowly dispersed, singing the John Brown song with thrilling effect, as they marched into the street.[34]
After her remarkable success in New York, the Philadelphia Union League invited her to speak in that city. The invitation, signed by leading Republicans, she readily accepted. Judge Wm. D. Kelley presided, and a most appreciative audience greeted her. In this address, reviewing the incidents of the war, she criticised General McClellan as usual, with great severity. Some of his personal friends, filled with indignation, left the house, while a derisive laugh followed them to the door. The Philadelphia journals vied with each other in their eulogiums of her grace, beauty, and eloquence. The marked attention she has always received in her native city has been most grateful to her, and honorable to her fellow-citizens.
In July, 1862, the first move was made to enlist colored troops in Pennsylvania. A meeting was called for that purpose in Philadelphia. Judge Kelley, Frederick Douglass, and Anna Dickinson were there, and made strong appeals to the people of that State to grant to the colored man the honor of bearing arms in defence of his country. The effort was successful. A splendid regiment was raised, and the first duty they discharged was to serenade the young orator, who had spoken so eloquently for their race all through the war.
In September a field-day was announced at Camp William Penn. General Pleasanton reviewed the troops. It was a brilliant and interesting occasion, as many were about to leave for the seat of war. At the close of the day when the people began to disperse it was noised round that Miss Dickinson was there; a cry was heard at once on all sides, "A speech! a speech!" The moon was just rising, mingling its pale rays with those of the setting sun, and throwing a soft, mysterious light over the whole scene. The troops gathered round with bristling bayonets and flags flying, the band was hushed to silence, and when all was still, mounted on a gun-wagon, with General Pleasanton and his staff on one side, General Wagner and his staff on the other, this brave girl addressed "our boys in blue." She urged that justice and equality might be secured to every citizen in the republic; that slavery and war might end forever and peace be restored; that our country might indeed be the land of the free and the home of the brave.
As she stood there uttering words of warning and prophecy, it seemed as if her lips had been touched with a live coal from the altar of heaven. Her inspired words moved the hearts of our young soldiers to deeds of daring, and gave fresh courage to those about her to bid their loved ones go and die if need be for freedom and their country. The hour, the mysterious light, the stillness, the novel surroundings, the youth of the speaker, all gave a peculiar power to her words, and made the scene one of the most thrilling and beautiful on the page of history.
In January, 1864, she made her first address in Washington. Though she now felt that her success as an orator was established, yet she hesitated long before accepting this invitation.[35] To speak before the President, Chief-Justice, Judges, Senators, Congressmen, Foreign Diplomats, all the dignitaries and honorables of the Government was one of the most trying ordeals in her experience. She had one of the largest and most brilliant audiences ever assembled in the Capitol, and was fully equal to the occasion. She made a profound impression, and her speech was the topic of conversation for days afterward. At the close of her address she was presented to many of the distinguished ladies and gentlemen, and chief among them the President. This was one of the grandest occasions of her life. She was honored as no man ever had been before. The comments of the press[36] must have been satisfactory to her highest ambition as well as to that of her admiring countrywomen.
One of the most powerful and impressive appeals she ever made was in the Convention of Southern Loyalists held in Philadelphia in September, 1866. In this Convention there was a division of opinion between the Border and the Gulf States. The latter wanted to incorporate negro suffrage in their platform, as that was the only means of success for the Liberal party at the South. The former, manipulated by Northern politicians, opposed that measure, lest it should defeat the Republican party in the pending elections at the North. This stultification of principle, of radical public sentiment, stirred the soul of Miss Dickinson, and she desired to speak. But a rule that none but delegates should be allowed that privilege, prevented her. However, as the Southern men had never heard a woman speak in public, and felt great curiosity to hear her, they adjourned the Convention, resolved themselves into a committee of the whole, and invited her to address them.
An eye-witness[37] thus describes the scene: "As the young maiden stepped forward to deliver a speech as denunciatory as was ever listened to against the action of the Border States, on her right sat Brownlow, on her left John Minor Botts with his lips tightly compressed, and his face telling plainly that he remained there from courtesy, and would remain a patient listener to the end. She began; and for the first time since it met, the Convention was so still that the faintest whisper could be heard."
She had not spoken long before she declared that Maryland had no business in the Convention, but should have been with delegates that came to welcome. There was vehement applause from the Border States. "This is a direct insult," shouted a delegate from Maryland. She went on in spite of interruptions, reviewing the conduct of the Border States with scorn, and an eloquence never equalled in any of her previous efforts, in favor of an open, manly declaration of the real opinion of the Convention for justice to the colored Loyalist, not in the courts only, but at the ballot-box. The speech was in Miss Dickinson's noblest style throughout—bold, but tender, and often so pathetic that she brought tears to every eye. Every word came from her heart, and it went right to the hearts of all. Kentucky and Maryland now listened as eagerly as Georgia and Alabama; Brownlow's iron features and Botts' rigid face soon relaxed, and tears stood in the old Virginian's eyes; while the noble Tennesseean moved his place, and gazed at the inspired girl with an interest and wonderment which no other orator had moved before. She had the audience in hand, as easily as a mother holds her child, and like the child, this audience heard her heart beat. It was a marvelous speech. Its greatness lay in its manner and effect, as well as its argument. When she finished, one after another of the Southern delegates came forward and pinned on her dress the badges of their States until she wore the gifts of Alabama, Missouri, Tennessee, Texas, Florida, Louisiana, and Maryland.
And thus it was from time to time that this remarkable girl uttered the highest thought in American politics in that crisis of our nation's history. While in camp and hospital she spoke words of tenderness and love to the sick and dying, she did not hesitate to rebuke the incapacity and iniquity of those in high places. She was among the first to distrust McClellan and Lincoln, and in a lecture, entitled "My Policy," to unveil his successor, Andrew Johnson, to the people. She saw the scepter of power grasped by the party of freedom, and the first gun fired at Sumter in defence of slavery. She saw our armies go forth to battle, the youth, the promise, the hope of the nation—two millions strong—and saw them return with their ranks thinned and broken, their flags tattered and stained, the maimed, the halt and the blind, the weary and worn; and this, she said, is the price of liberty. She saw the dawn of the glorious day of emancipation when four million African slaves were set free, and that night of gloom when the darkest page in American history was written in the blood of its chief. Through the nation's agony was this young girl born into a knowledge of her power; and she drew her inspiration from the great events of her day.