own statement Miss Anthony confined her entire discourse to the one point of competitive labor. The editorial was founded wholly upon his own depraved imagination.
Miss Anthony went into British Columbia and spoke several times at Victoria. The doctrine of equal rights was entirely new in that city and on the first evening there was not a woman in the hall. At no succeeding lecture were twenty women present, although there were fair audiences of men. The press was respectful in its treatment of speaker and speeches, but some of the "cards" which were sent to the papers were amusing, to say the least.4
The journal depicts the hardships of a new country, the poor hotels, the long stage-rides, the inconvenient hours, etc. At one place, where there was an appalling prospect of spending Sunday in the wretched excuse for a hotel, a lady came and took her to a fine, new home and Miss Anthony was delighted; but when the husband appeared he announced that he "did not keep a tavern," and so, after her evening lecture, she returned to her former quarters, the wife not daring to remonstrate. After meeting one woman who had had six husbands, and at least a dozen whose husbands had deserted them and married other women without the formality of a divorce, she writes in her journal, "Marriage seems to be anything but an indissoluble contract out here on the coast." Meanwhile she had received urgent invitations from California once more to try her fortune in that State. After lecturing to crowded houses at Oregon City, Eugene and other points, she continued southward, her rough experience on shipboard deciding her to go by stage. From Roseburg she wrote her mother, November 24:
I am now over one hundred miles on my stage-route south, and horrible indeed are the roads—miles and miles of corduroy and then twenty miles of "Joe Lane black mud," as they call it, because old Joseph Lane settled right here in the midst of it. It is heavy clay without a particle of loam and rolls up on the wheels until rim, spokes and hub are one solid circle. The wheels cease to turn and actually slide over the ground, and then driver and men passengers jump out and with chisels and shingles cut the clay off the wheels.
How my thought does turn homeward, mother. I wanted always to be at home every recurring birthday of yours so long as you remained this side with us. I can not this year, but in spirit I shall be with you all that day, as I am so very, very often on every other day.
The courtesy of a seat outside with the driver was usually extended to her and she picked up much information in regard to the people and customs, some of it perhaps not wholly reliable. On this journey she encountered a drenching rain and heavy snow, and finally was driven inside. When they stopped for the night she had a little, cold bedroom, sometimes next to the bar-room, where the carousing kept her awake all night. She wrote home from Yreka, November 28:
Last evening I lectured in the courthouse to a splendid audience, and speak again this afternoon at 2 o'clock to answer objections. Several lawyers threaten to be on hand and force me to the wall on legal points, but we shall see. Then at four I am to drive with Mrs. Jerome Churchill, and at seven board the stage again for Red Bluff, 125 miles, riding steadily all tonight and the next day and night. It is snowing here and southward, which delays us more and more every day.
I rode three miles yesterday for a full view of Mount Shasta, but the summit was hidden by a dense fog, and I saw only one of its side-points called the crater; so all hope of seeing this lofty snow-peak is over, unless it should clear off and I see it by moonlight as I go out tonight. This long stage route is a new and interesting experience to me, and I am so glad I returned this way. The first day, in spite of the corduroy ruckabuck jouncing, I felt a sort of halo of joy hovering around me. It was indescribable; it was like a benediction of "well done, decided right."
From the diary:
Snow storm today but a fine moonlight view of Mount Shasta at night. Rode all night in the stage, splendid sunrise view of Castle Rock. Today through Sacramento canyon, fine day and grand scenery. Supped at 9 P.M. and then nine of us were packed into a short wagon and did not arrive at Red Bluff till 3 A.M.... No arrangements had been made for my lecture. Sheriff refused to let me have the courthouse. Secured the schoolhouse, but no fire and small audience after all my hard trip to get here. Called at 2:30 A.M. to take the stage again.... Reached Chico at last. Mr. Allen, agent of General Bidwell, met me, and such a good cup of coffee and cosy, comfortable time as his wife Emma gave me! Good audience, although heavy storm.... At Marysville spoke in the theater to a small but select audience. Expenses $20 over receipts. The fates are opposed to my financial success, and the interest is piling up on my debts.... Mrs. Laura de Force Gordon and a dozen other ladies met me at Sacramento, and she and I went on to San Francisco where I found thirty letters awaiting me at the Grand Hotel.
The flurry of prejudice against Miss Anthony had died out and she accepted an invitation for a public address signed by a number of influential citizens. She spoke several times to good audiences and was fairly treated by the press, but she was too frank and outspoken to be very popular, especially at that time. The people were greatly stirred up over what was known as the Holland Social Evil Bill, which was under consideration by the board of supervisors and had roused public opinion to white heat, both in favor and in opposition. Miss Anthony naturally made a fight against it, calling a meeting of women only and explaining to them, point by point, its vicious propositions. This provoked both favorable and adverse criticism by the press. At Mayfield she was a guest at the handsome home of Judge and Mrs. Sarah Wallis. Mrs. Knox, Mrs. Watson, Mrs. McKee and a big omnibus load drove up from San Jose, seventeen miles. She spoke at a number of neighboring towns and the sympathizers with the cause she represented were delighted with her masterly efforts, but she felt everywhere the need of a good manager to make her lectures a financial success. On December 15 her friends in San Francisco tendered her a reception and banquet at the Grand Hotel. All the newspapers in the city gave complimentary accounts, of which the following from the Chronicle will serve as a specimen:
The friends of Miss Susan B. Anthony, to the number of about fifty, comprising the more prominent leaders of the suffrage movement, assembled in the parlors of the Grand Hotel last evening. After an hour spent in social conversation and the interchange of congratulations upon the bright prospects of the cause they represent, the guests were ushered into the spacious dining-hall, where a bountiful collation had been spread....
Miss Anthony said: "....I go from you freighted with a burden of love and gratitude, and no greetings have been more precious than those of working men and women. Tonight when the woman who earns her livelihood by selling flowers through the hotel came to the door of the parlor and, presenting me with the beautiful bouquet which I hold in my hand, asked, 'Will you accept this because you have spoken so nobly for us poor workingwomen?' it brought tears to my eyes, unused to weeping. I felt a thrill of gratitude that I had been permitted to prosecute this work. We who are seated around this board may have all the rights we need; we are not working for ourselves, but for those now suffering around us. For them, our sisters, and for future generations must we labor...."
She took her seat amid warm applause. A number of brief, pithy speeches were made and all dispersed with a hearty Godspeed to the talented lady in whose behalf they had assembled.
Laura de Force Gordon had arranged a number of lectures for Miss Anthony on the route eastward. At Nevada City she was the guest of A. A. Sargent, the newly elected United States senator, and his wife, both earnest friends of woman suffrage.5 The rainy season had set in and the diary says: "These storms which bring new life and hope to farmers and miners, mean empty benches for me." The mud, snow and wind in Nevada were terrible. At Virginia City, where she lectured, she was snowed in for several days and finally left in a six-horse sleigh, in the midst of a blinding storm, on Christmas Day.
She arrived at Reno to find that the Sargents, whom she expected to join on their way to Washington, had passed through a day or two before but, as they were delayed by snowdrifts, she overtook them at Ogden, and enjoyed the privileges of their luxurious staterooms until they reached
