Ten American Girls from History

by Kate Dickinson Sweetser

Among her other delights were good lectures, and she eagerly watched the papers to find out when George William Curtis, Wendell Phillips, or Henry Ward Beecher was going to lecture in the city; then she would start out on a campaign to earn the price of a ticket for the lecture.

One day when she had read much about Wendell Phillips, but never heard him, she saw that he was to lecture in Philadelphia on "The Lost Arts." It happened that there was no copying for her to do at that time, and she had no idea how to earn the twenty-five cents which would give her the coveted admittance; but go to the lecture she must. As she walked past a handsome residence she noticed that coal had just been put in and the sidewalk left very grimy. Boldly ringing the bell, she asked if she might scrub the walk, and as a result of her exertion a triumphant young girl was the first person to present herself at the hall that night, and quite the most thrilled listener among the throng that packed the house to hear Wendell Phillips. Although her career was so soon to find her out, little did Anna dream on that night, as she listened spellbound to the orator of the occasion, that not far in the future many of that audience were to be applauding a young girl with dark eyes, curly hair, and such force of character and personal magnetism that she was to sway her audiences even to a greater extent than the man to whom she was listening.

When she was seventeen Anna left school for good, feeling that she could not afford to give any more time to study while her mother needed so many comforts and necessities which money could buy. So she left the "Friends' Select School," and in her unselfish reason for this, and the fact that she was forced to support herself and others at such an early age, when she longed for a more thorough education, lies an appeal for kindly criticism of her work rather than a verdict of superficiality, which some gave who did not understand or appreciate the nature, the inspiration, or the real genius of the young and enthusiastic girl.

She was offered a position as teacher in a school in New Brighton, Beaver County, and accepting it she spent a few months there, but as she did not like it she applied for a district-school position that was vacant in the same town. When she had made all but the final arrangements with the committee she asked, "What salary do you give?"

A committeeman replied: "A man has had the position until now. We gave him twenty-eight dollars a month, but we should not think of giving a girl more than sixteen." Something in his manner and words stung Anna like a lash, and, drawing herself up to her full height, she turned to leave the room.

"Sir," she said, "though I am too poor to-day to buy a pair of cotton gloves, I would rather go in rags than degrade my womanhood by accepting anything at your hands!" And off she went, to try her fate in some other place and way, absolutely sure that in some unknown manner she was to wrest success from the future. Young, inexperienced, penniless, and with few friends, she passed weeks looking for a situation in vain. At last she was offered work in a store, but when she found that she must tell what was not true about goods to customers rather than lose a sale, she put on her hat and left at once, and again began her weary quest of work. Everywhere she found that, if she had been a boy, she could have secured better positions and pay than she could as a girl. Also in her wide range of reading she discovered that many of the advantages of life and all of the opportunities, at that time, were given to men rather than to women. Her independent nature was filled with determination to do something to alter this, if she ever had a chance. It came sooner than she would have dared to hope.

One Sunday she was sitting at home, reading a newspaper, when she saw a notice of a meeting to be held that afternoon in a certain hall by the "Association of Progressive Friends," to discuss "Woman's Rights and Wrongs." She would go. Having decided this, she went to the home of a young friend and persuaded her to go, too, and together they walked to the hall and were soon deeply engrossed in the arguments presented by the speakers. The presiding officer of the afternoon was a Doctor Longshore, who announced before the meeting began that at the close of the formal discussion ladies were requested to speak, as the subject was one in which they were especially interested.

"One after another, women rose and gave their views on the question. Then, near the center of the house a girl arose whose youthful face, black curls, and bright eyes, as well as her musical voice and subdued but impressive manner, commanded the attention of the audience. She spoke twice as long as each speaker was allowed, and right to the point, sending a thrill of interest through her listeners, who remembered that speech for many a long day. At the close of the meeting more than one in the audience came forward and spoke to the beaming girl, thanking her for her brilliant defense of her sex, and asking her to surely come to the meeting on the following Sunday." Flushed with triumph and excitement, she received the praise and congratulations and promised to be present the next week. When the time came she again rose and spoke in glowing language of the rights and privileges which should be given to women as well as to men. As soon as she sat down a tall, nervous man, with an air of proud assurance that the world was made for his sex, rose and spoke firmly against Anna's arguments, voicing his belief that men were by right the lords and masters of creation. While he spoke he fixed his eyes on Anna, as if enchanted by the sight of her rapidly crimsoning cheeks and flashing eyes, which showed emotions at white heat. The moment he finished she stood again, and this time, young and inexperienced though she was, with little education and less knowledge of the great world, she held her audience spellbound by the clear ideas which she poured out in almost flawless English, and by her air of conviction which carried belief in her arguments with it. She spoke clearly, steadily, as she summed up all the wrongs she had been obliged to suffer through a struggling girlhood, as well as all she had seen and read about and felt in her soul to be true, although she had no tangible proofs. On flowed the tide of her oratory in such an outburst of real feeling that her hearers were electrified, amazed, by the rare magnetism of this young and unknown girl. As she spoke she drew nearer to the man, whose eyes refused now to meet her keen dark ones, and who seemed deeply confused as she scored point after point in defense, saying, "You, sir! said so and so," ... with each statement sweeping away his arguments one by one until he had no ground left to stand on. When her last word had been said and she took her seat amid a storm of applause, he swiftly and silently rose and left the hall, to the great amusement of the audience, whose sympathies were entirely with the young girl who had stated her case so brilliantly.

"Who is she?" was the question asked on every side as the eager crowd pushed its way out of the building, all curious to get a nearer view of the youthful speaker. Doctor Longshore, who had opened the meeting, as on the previous Sunday, was now determined to become acquainted with Anna and find out what had gone into the making of such a remarkable personality, and at the close of the meeting he lost no time in introducing himself to her and making an engagement to go to the Dickinson home to meet her family.

Before the time of his promised call—in fact, before Anna had even mentioned her success as a speaker to her mother—while she was out one day two gentlemen called at the house and inquired if Miss Anna Dickinson lived there. Her mother's cheeks paled with fright, for she feared Anna had been doing some unconventional thing which the strangers had come to report. When they said they had heard her speak at a public meeting and were so much pleased with her speech that they had come to find out something about her home surroundings, Mrs. Dickinson's brow cleared, and, leading them into the house, she spent a pleasant half-hour with them, and was secretly delighted with their comments on her daughter's first appearance in public. When Anna came home Mrs. Dickinson took her to task for not telling her about such a great event, and was surprised to see the real diffidence which the girl showed when she was questioned about the meetings and her speeches. A few days later Doctor Longshore called with her brother, Elwood, and with their flattering assurances that her daughter was a born speaker, and that she had already made some valuable points on a vital subject, Mrs. Dickinson began to feel that all her worry over Anna's turbulent childhood and restless girlhood had not been in vain, that she was born to do great things, and from that time she took a genuine pride in all the achievements of the young girl who came so rapidly into public notice.