At this unfortunate moment Mrs. Stanton came forward to the rescue of the bewildered Senator. “Allow me,” said this lieutenant-general, “to correct the Senator. Those who wish to vote are requested to sit still.”
The command was instantly obeyed. Not a woman was seen to move. The Senator wiped the perspiration from his forehead and looked his thanks to the gallant chief of the staff, whose strategy had saved the day. Afterwards those who did not wish to vote were requested to show their colors. A few women were noticed making themselves conspicuous, but the great mass were not to be deluded into giving an expression either one way or another.
Mrs. Stanton then introduced Madame Anneke, a German woman who could not talk English, but could talk the language of the heart—an immense woman, whose weight would reach the hundreds. The stage shook under her powerful trampings. She made up for language in pantomime. She drew her hands through her short hair as only a poet can describe. She said she had waded fields of blood, but this had not been her greatest trials. She had come from Wisconsin with a heavy load—the petition of many hundreds who wanted to vote. She had come with credentials from “t’ousands and t’ousands.” She appealed in the name of Germany—in the name of all Europe. The enfranchisement of women would be the enfranchisement of the whole human race.
Madame Anneke then retired, giving place to a woman as lean as she was fat—a Quaker woman from Philadelphia. This dear, good old Quakeress looked spiritual enough to be translated. She gave us some good Quaker doctrine, such as Philadelphia knows all about, and her remarks, for this reason, are omitted. She was called Mrs. Rachel Moore Townsend.
After Mrs. Townsend the Rev. Olympia Brown came forward, the brightest, freshest, strongest woman we have ever heard devoted to the “cause.” She is a small woman, and looks exactly as one might imagine Charlotte Bronte—a picture of exquisite nicety, from the dainty point lace collar to the perfect fitting shoe.
She commenced her address to those who did not wish to vote: “You may say you are in comfortable homes, with kind husbands and kind fathers, and you may wonder what these strong-minded women want. The temperance question alone shows the want of the ballot for the drunkard’s wife. Women have been patient too long, and therefore responsible in a degree for the sin of drunkenness. I wish women would stand up and say they would not encourage men who use intoxicating drinks and tobacco. We are seeking a nobler womanhood. It is the duty of every mother to feel that she is responsible for that society into which she sends her son. Our young lady should have something to look forward to. A young lady, upon leaving school, told her companion that she was sorry that school had ended, because she would have nothing to do. ‘Can’t you stay at home and make pretty things to wear?’ was the reply. This assertion and answer covered the whole ground of young ladyhood.” When she first entered the world as a young woman, she consulted her minister as to what she should do. He told her to sit down at home and amuse herself reading, and occasionally engage in a strictly private benevolence. The time will come when women will go forth to make a name and a fortune just as men do to-day. Women are told that Christ died for them; she would tell them that Christ lived for them. He taught women a life of earnestness, and she bade them go forth and follow his example. She compared the workingmen of Europe to our own mechanics—the bone and sinew of the land. “What makes the difference between them? It is the ballot. When tanners can aspire to be President you can see what the ballot can do. If it does so much for the men, it will do equally as much for the women. We want every incentive to make women brave, wise, and good. Let us learn not to fight with guns, but with our tongues. The warfare is not ended until the ballot is in our hands. Vermont will give women the ballot before the year is out, and Connecticut will soon follow, for I have moved down there to accomplish it. Only a perfected womanhood will satisfy the age.”
Mr. Stillman, the only man in the Rhode Island legislature who dared to stand up for woman suffrage, came forward, but want of time prevents an account of his speech.
Phœbe Couzins followed him after the same style of her first speech.
After she had finished Professor Wilcox came forward as the last crowning glory of the day and moved that Harriett Beecher Stowe, in her dire extremity, have the sympathy of the convention. Mrs. Stanton said it was out of order, and the Professor exhaled.
Olivia.