Hilda's Home: A Story of Woman's Emancipation

by Rosa Graul

“Friends! Comrades! I am highly pleased to see so many here upon this occasion, when we hope to be able to offer you a by no means common treat. The lecturer is one well known in radical circles,—a woman who by her undaunted courage and brilliant intellect has won for herself an honored name. This is a time when many reforms are discussed and agitated. Many are openly avowing their faith and belief in this or that reform, while many more not so daring do not openly join themselves with radical movements. In their inmost hearts, however, they are with us, while others again as yet are ‘on the fence,’ their hearts torn with doubt, their understanding still clouded with the mists of superstition and prejudice. But as they are more or less earnest seekers of truth, these mists will clear away and they will be enabled to see things in their true light. Not much more than ten years ago the word ‘socialism’ evoked from the average man and woman only a smile of contempt. Those who were pleased to apply that cognomen to themselves were looked upon as a species of mild lunatic. Anarchy was regarded with a still stronger aversion (as indeed it yet is). The general impression of this class of people was that they were lazy, even to filthiness. It was believed by a great many that the most severe punishment that could be inflicted upon an anarchist was to condemn him to a bath (laughter.) He was considered a dangerous individual, as he was supposed to be one who would not hesitate to knock a fellow workingman down and force him to share his hard earned wages. It was believed he was ever ready to blow out the brains of some other individual who happened to be possessed of a little more than himself of this wicked world’s goods, and was considered at best a dangerous lunatic. But today? Even our worst enemies are forced to respect us (applause). We know they fear us. Not in the sense they once did, but they fear our influence upon the working class, the so-called bone and sinew of the American nation.

“There are many other reforms. Each and all have their advocates showing that the people are awakening out of their deep lethargic sleep and are beginning to think. Not least among these reforms, is the reform in matters pertaining to sex. The thinking men and women of today no longer can close their eyes to the fact that the vices and immoralities of the masses, as well as those of the so-called better classes, are spreading in a manner truly appalling. But worst of all, and attended by the worst possible results, is the sex slavery of the married woman. To discuss these reforms in their varied phases is what of the head. Her figure was too slight, her face too pale, her features too irregular to lay any claims to beauty, but as she opened her lips and began calmly to speak she at once claimed the full attention of her audience. Having arranged her discourse in a careful manner, it was utterly impossible to misunderstand her meaning, and as she gradually warmed to her subject the tired look faded from the large, intelligent gray eyes, her cheeks became slightly flushed, the fair brows seemed irradiated with a luminous glory.

Soon Imelda seemed spellbound as she listened to the clear bell-like voice that conjured up picture after picture before the mind’s eye. The speaker painted the contrast between the very wealthy and the very poor. On the one hand rolling and rioting in luxury, on the other wallowing in filth; the sinful idleness of the one, the lavish toil of the other.

“If you will follow me,” she said, “I will lead you to the homes of poverty, of toil, of subjection, of vice and of crime, and again to where the so-called refined elements dwell. Together we will search for the truth, together lift the veil and seek for the inward cause of the outward effect.

“In the abode of poverty we find a pale and emaciated woman bending over her sewing at a late hour of the night. The wintry winds howl and the has brought us here today. Before doing so, however, we will listen to the discourse about to be delivered by the able lecturer, Althea Wood. I now have the pleasure of introducing to you Miss Wood.”

Here the slender, black-robed figure of a woman arose and moved to the side of the speaker, greeting the assemblage with a slight and graceful inclination window sashes creak! The fire in the stove has burnt out. Her fingers stiffen as the hours speed on. Upon a pallet in the corner lies outstretched the figure of a man. From time to time a low moan escapes the pallid lips. Beside him lie the forms of two children, pale, wan and emaciated.

“Why all this? Because in the days of health and strength, when he received wages that were something more than a mere pittance, confident that he would always be able to provide for those he loved, this man had been neglectful of the future. They had lived comfortably and enjoyed life.

“But by and by, because of over-production in commodities there had come long months of enforced idleness. Then, because of privation and mental anxiety this man had fallen a victim to that dread disease, consumption.

“And now, although and because, on every street, magazines of clothing were overflowing, so that there was scarcely room to store any more, this poor woman must wearily toil by the midnight lamp to increase the already superabundant supply of clothing. Although and because the granaries were filled to bursting, she and hers must go hungry. Although and because the market is overstocked with coal this poor family must shiver with cold through the long wintry nights. Although and because the millionaire and his family cannot find means or ways to spend the millions wrung from the sweat of the weary toilers, is this heart-rending suffering of the poor.

“Lightly as we entered we depart from this abode of woe. We try the next door. This time it is a woman’s form that lies outstretched upon a miserable pallet. Several small children, scantily clad are playing upon the bare floor. A young girl stands at the window, looking out at the fast-falling snow. In her hand she holds on open letter. She is fair to look upon. Decked with the world’s riches men would rave over her. But what are the emotions stirring this young heart? Her mother, brothers and sisters are starving. All her scanty earnings cannot supply the sick mother the needed medicines and the family with necessary food and clothing.