"As we sat at her feet day after day between sessions of the convention, listening to what she wanted us to do to help women and asking her questions," recalled M. Carey Thomas in later years, "I realized that she was the greatest person I had ever met. She seemed to me everything that a human being could be—a leader to die for or to live for and follow wherever she led."[460]

Immediately after the convention, Susan went to Washington with the women who were scheduled to speak at the Congressional hearing on woman suffrage. In her room at the Shoreham Hotel, a room with a view of the Washington Monument which the manager always saved for her, she stood at the window looking out over the city as if saying farewell. Then turning to Anna Shaw, she said with emotion, "I think it is the most beautiful monument in the whole world."[461]

That evening she sat quietly through the many tributes offered to her on her eighty-sixth birthday, longing to tell all her friends the gratitude and hope that welled up in her heart. Finally she rose, and standing by Anna Howard Shaw who was presiding, she impulsively put her hand on her shoulder and praised her for her loyal support. Then turning to the other officers, she thanked them for all they had done. "There are others also," she added, "just as true and devoted to the cause—I wish I could name everyone—but with such women consecrating their lives—" She hesitated a moment, and then in her clear rich voice, added with emphasis, "Failure is impossible."[462]


In Rochester, in the home she so dearly loved, she spent her last weeks, thinking of the cause and the women who would carry it on. Longing to talk with Anna Shaw, she sent for her, but Anna, feeling she was needed, came even before a letter could reach her. With Anna at her bedside, Susan was content.

"I want you to give me a promise," she pleaded, reaching for Anna's hand. "Promise me you will keep the presidency of the association as long as you are well enough to do the work."[463]

Deeply moved, Anna replied, "But how can I promise that? I can keep it only as long as others wish me to keep it."

"Promise to make them wish you to keep it," Susan urged. "Just as I wish you to keep it...."

After a moment, she continued, "I do not know anything about what comes to us after this life ends, but ... if I have any conscious knowledge of this world and of what you are doing, I shall not be far away from you; and in times of need I will help you all I can. Who knows? Perhaps I may be able to do more for the Cause after I am gone than while I am here."

A few days later, on March 13, 1906, she passed away, her hand in Anna's.