No one who knows the conditions doubts that we really won Michigan that year as well as the three other states, but strange things were done in the count. For example, in one precinct in Detroit forty more votes were counted against our amend- m ent than there were voters in the district. In other districts there were seven or eight more votes than voters. Under these conditions it is not sur- p rising that, after the vigorous recounting following the first wide-spread reports of our success, Michi- g an was declared lost to us.
The campaign of 1914, in which we won Montana and Nevada, deserves special mention here. I must express also my regret that as this book will be on the presses before the campaign of 1915 is ended, I c annot include in these reminiscences the results of our work in New York and other states.
As a beginning of the 1914 campaign I spent a day in Chicago, on the way to South Dakota, to take my part in a moving-picture suffrage play. It was my first experience as an actress, and I found it a taxing one. As a modest beginning I was ordered to make a speech in thirty-three seconds--something of a task, as my usual time allowance for a speech is one hour. The manager assured me, however, that a speech of thirty-three seconds made twenty-seven feet of film--enough, he thought, to convert even a lieutenant-governor!
The Dakota campaigns, as usual, resolved them- s elves largely into feats of physical endurance, in which I was inspired by the fine example of the state presidents--Mrs. John Pyle of South Dakota and Mrs. Clara V. Darrow of North Dakota. Every day we made speeches from the rear platform of the trains on which we were traveling--sometimes only two or three, sometimes half a dozen. One day I r ode one hundred miles in an automobile and spoke in five different towns. Another day I had to make a journey in a freight-car. It was, with a few ex- c eptions, the roughest traveling I had yet known, and it took me six hours to reach my destination.
While I was gathering up hair-pins and pulling my- s elf together to leave the car at the end of the ride I asked the conductor how far we had traveled.
``Forty miles,'' said he, tersely.
``That means forty miles AHEAD,'' I murmured.
``How far up and down?''
``Oh, a hundred miles up and down,'' grinned the conductor, and the exchange of persiflage cheered us both.
Though we did not win, I have very pleasant memories of North Dakota, for Mrs. Darrow ac- c ompanied me during the entire campaign, and took every burden from my shoulders so efficiently that I had nothing to do but make speeches.
In Montana our most interesting day was that of the State Fair, which ended with a suffrage parade that I was invited to lead. On this occasion the suffragists wished me to wear my cap and gown and my doctor's hood, but as I had not brought those garments with me, we borrowed and I proudly wore the cap and gown of the Unitarian minister. It was a small but really beautiful parade, and all the cos- t umes for it were designed by the state president, Miss Jeannette Rankin, to whose fine work, by the way, combined with the work of her friends, the winning of Montana was largely due.
In Butte the big strike was on, and the town was under martial law. A large banquet was given us there, and when we drove up to the club-house where this festivity was to be held we were stopped by two armed guards who confronted us with stern faces and fixed bayonets. The situation seemed so absurd that I burst into happy laughter, and thus deeply offended the earnest young guards who were grasping the fixed bayonets. This sad memory was wiped out, however, by the interest of the banquet-- a very delightful affair, attended by the mayor of Butte and other local dignitaries.
In Nevada the most interesting feature of the campaign was the splendid work of the women. In each of the little towns there was the same spirit of ceaseless activity and determination. The presi- d ent of the State Association, Miss Anne Martin, who was at the head of the campaign work, accom- p anied me one Sunday when we drove seventy miles in a motor and spoke four times, and she was also my companion in a wonderful journey over the mountains. Miss Martin was a tireless and worthy leader of the fine workers in her state.
In Missouri, under the direction of Mrs. Walter McNabb Miller, and in Nebraska, where Mrs. E.
Draper Smith was managing the campaign, we had some inspiring meetings. At Lincoln Mrs. William Jennings Bryan introduced me to the biggest audi- e nce of the year, and the programme took on a special interest from the fact that it included Mrs. Bryan's debut as a speaker for suffrage. She is a tall and attractive woman with an extremely pleasant voice, and she made an admirable speech--clear, terse, and much to the point, putting herself on record as a strong supporter of the woman-suffrage movement.
There was also an amusing aftermath of this occa- s ion, which Secretary Bryan himself confided to me several months later when I met him in Atlantic City. He assured me, with the deep sincerity he assumes so well, that for five nights after my speech in Lincoln his wife had kept him awake listening to her report of it--and he added, solemnly, that he now knew it ``by heart.''
A less pleasing memory of Nebraska is that I lost my voice there and my activities were sadly inter- r upted. But I was taken to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Francis A. Brogan, of Omaha, and supplied with a trained nurse, a throat specialist, and such care and comfort that I really enjoyed the enforced rest--knowing, too, that the campaign committee was carrying on our work with great enthusiasm.
In Missouri one of our most significant meetings was in Bowling Green, the home of Champ Clark, Speaker of the House. Mrs. Clark gave a reception, made a speech, and introduced me at the meeting, as Mrs. Bryan had done in Lincoln. She is one of the brightest memories of my Missouri experience, for, with few exceptions, she is the most entertaining woman I have ever met. Subsequently we had an all-day motor journey together, during which Mrs.
Clark rarely stopped talking and I even more rarely stopped laughing.
