Anna Dickinson       SPEECHES &  WRITINGS FILE      SPEECH  FILE    "Personal Liberty"Anna Dickinson on "Personal Liberty."
Few persons of her years, perhaps,
have experienced the fickleness
of fortune in so full measure as 
has Anna Dickinson; few have
had deeper sorrows, enjoyed a 
greater popularity, or tested bitterer
injustice and neglect than
she has done, while yet she is
in the prime of her life, unshattered
by disease and unfaded 
by years. To her, moreover,
has come that shocking experience
which, it is to be feared, is 
not so rare as it is dreadful -
that of being shut up among
maniacs in a madhouse, while 
yet she was in the perfect possession 
of her reason, and all
the unusually bright and active
faculties of mind which
have distinguished her since
her early teens.
The relation of the experience
of a woman who has suffered as2/ 
Anna Dickinson has suffered,
not only prove the jealousy and envy
 of her enemies - and an unusually
 bright and successful
woman always finds plenty of
enemies, even among persons whom
she never saw -- but prove the lukewarmness
 of false friends, and
the selfish ingratitude of politicians, 
to say nothing of more
personal griefs - cannot but be
interesting. The late newspaper
reports concerning her, too, 
albeit all sensible persons saw
 that they must be greatly exaggerated
have served to excite
public curiosity; and it
was not strange that the [common?] 
[current?] that she would
speak in the Broadway theatre,
the other Sunday evening, 
attracted a sympathettic and 
interested audience.
¶  Miss Dickinson is far from
being the hard=faced, masculine=featured,
heavy=jawed
person which the newspaper
wood=cuts put before us over 
her name. she has a strong,

3/
clear=cut, individual face,
with well=opened, fearless
blue eyes. - eyes which can 
flash, on occasion; - marked
brows, and a firm but sympathetic
mouth,. Her features are
mobile, expressive, and well
 controlled. She speaks very
clearly, enunciates distinctly,
and is, of course, perfectly at
home before an audience.
Even on this occasion, which
could not but be painful to her,
since she knew that more than one in 
her audience believed
her to be an escaped lunatic, -
- she never lost her poise for
a moment; she never blundered
nor flattered, nor hesitated for 
the right word. At times, during 
her talks, her voice broke, and
 tears rushed to her eyes; but
she dashed them away, and
recovered her steadiness at once.
¶   She began by saying that 
she had faced many audiences;
 many which sympathized with[4] 
and appreciated her; some
which disliked her sentiments
and belittled her labors; some made 
up a cultural and critical paper.
some composed of the wild ["mild"?] wives
of Pennsylvania, before whom many
a man=speaker dared not stand,
and when she knew that she took
her life in her hand in consenting
to speak; she had espoused the
cause of the black man  when it
was not only an unpopular and
unprofitable, but a dangerous
thing to do; she had appeared
as the champion of the rights of 
her own sex, at a time when the
cause of woman demanded fighting
 soldiers, not officers on
dress-parade; she had uniformly
been on the oppressed, the unpopular
 side; but never before had 
she appeared in quite so unpopular
a character as that of an escaped 
lunatic, liberated almost
by accident from a mad=house; 
saved as by a miracle 
from that most dreadful doom of
life-long incarceration in a 
private asylum for maniacs.

[*5*] 
Miss Dickinson wisely refrained
from going into any details
of family trouble. She said
what all rational persons understood
 before, that the newspapers
had put in her mouth a thousand
things which she never said nor
imagined; that she had never uttered 
the word "conspiracy"; that 
she had not dealt in the smart
and flippantly foolish speeches
which had been ascribed to her.
Falsehoods innumerable had been
told about her; many by those
whom she had helped and served
in other days, and many by
strangers who simply knew
nothing whatever about her.
Some of these she proposed to
contradict in her present talk, 
She had been patronizingly pitied, 
she said, for her "failure" on the 
stage. She went on the stage because
she had dramatic tastes,
because she felt that she might
succeed; because she must do 
something for herself, an invalid
mother and a helpless sister, and
because she was heartily tired[*6*] 
of fighting; for her political life 
had been little else than a life 
of constant fight. She was weary 
of it. She was assured on all 
bends that she could not but 
make a success as an actor - 
assured even by those persons who 
were the first to pronounce her a 
failure. And although she was 
called a failure, she found 
people outside of New York who 
liked her acting, It had been 
said that she lost $100,000 
in her theatrical ventures, 
but in truth, she never lost a 
dollar on the stage. In the 
year when she made her appearance 
on the stage, she did 
lose $190,000 in land speculations; 
but she wished it fully 
understood that these losses 
had nothing to do with her theatrical 
ventures.
She spoke with feeling of her labors 
for the Republican party when 
it was led by such men as Lincoln, 
Horace Greeley, Wendell 
Phillips, Henry Wilson and other 
men of that stamp: and drew 
a parallel between those days

[*7*]
and these, which was not 
specially flattering to the present 
party "leaders." Since then, she 
said she had been offered blank 
cheques, with permission to fill 
them as she chose, if she would 
in her speeches leave out the 
black man and his rights - the 
great questions of human equality 
& of justice to all alike. She 
had replied "I am poor, miserably 
poor: I am in debt; I hardly 
know which way to turn; but if I 
might fill your cheque for millions 
instead of thousands, I would 
not go counter to my own convictions."
¶ When Harrison was nominated 
for the presidency, he said that 
"of all campaign orators, he wished 
his cause advocated by Anna 
Dickinson"; she had but to name her price. 
He wanted her services secured for 
a campaign at any cost. Mr. Fessenden, Mr. 
Clarkson and Mr. Dudley told her if she would 
agree to speak as they told her, to ignore the 
negro entirely and speak only for protection 
she could fill out a check for any amount she 
wanted and it would be cashed that day.

She told them millions would not buy her 
principles and finally she made a contract 
with Clarkson and Quay to the effect that she 
was to make a certain number of campaign 
speeches, for which she was to receive $5,000 if 
Mr. Harrison was elected and $3,750 if he was 
defeated.
Several times during the campaign Mr. 
Clarkson wrote his congratulations 
on the good work she was doing. She

had never been paid for the work. Some 
months ago she wrote a personal letter to 
President Harrison asking him to settle the 
account or see that it was done. He replied in 
a typewritten letter that he had referred the 
matter to Senator Quay.

Miss Dickinson said that she had 
all the telegrams and other 
correspondence in reference to the campaign 
work.

Early in February she wrote to Senator Allison 
of Iowa telling him of the letters she had 
and threatening to have the entire correspondence 
published in the newspaper if her 
claim was not settled. She wrote Allison that, 
being a good Republican, she would prefer to 
have all the Republican dirty linen washed at 
home, but she had made up her mind to 
expose somebody unless her bill was paid.

On Feb. 25 she was dragged to the asylum 
at Danville as an insane pauper. She said she 
charged no one with conspiracy, but the managers 
of the asylum were but creatures of 
politics and that Quay, Clarkson, Dudley and 
others who knew she. a fearless 
woman, held damaging evidence against them, 
when they thought they had her buried alive 
in an asylum, tried to tramp the clods down on 
her grave.

¶ She spoke with keen severity 
of the treatment of Horace Greeley 
by Jacob Whitelaw Reid [af?]
Greeley had failed of the 
[d?]7)
and these, which was not 
specially flattering to the present 
party "leaders." Since then, she 
said she had been offered blank 
cheques, with permission to fill 
them as she chose, if she would 
in her speeches leave our the 
black man and his rights - the 
great questions of human equality 
& of justice to all alike. She 
had replied "I am poor, miserably 
poor: I am in debt; I hardly 
know which way to turn; but if I 
might fill your cheque for millions 
instead of thousands, I would 
not go counter to my own convictions."
[paragraph mark] When Harrison was nominated 
for the presidency, he said that 
"of all campaign orators, he wished 
his cause advocated by Anna 
Dickinson"; she had but to name her price. 
He wanted her services secured for 
a campaign at any cost. Mr. Fessenden, Mr. 
Clarkson and Mr. Dudley told her if she would 
agree to speak as they told her, to ignore the 
negro entirely and speak only for protection 
she could fill out a check for any amount she 
wanted and it would be cashed that day.
She told them millions would not by her 
principles and finally she made a contract 
with Clarkson and Quay to the effect that she 
was to make a certain number of campaign 
speeches, for which she was to receive $5,000 if 
Mr. Harrison was elected and $3,750 if he was 
defeated.
Several times during the campaign Mr. 
Clarkson wrote his congratulations 
on the good work she was doing. She
. Fi
had never been paid for the work. Some 
months ago she wrote a personal letter to 
President Harrison asking him to settle the 
account or see that it was done. He replied in 
a typewritten letter that he had referred the 
matter to Senator Quay.
Miss Dickinson said that she had 
all the telegrams and other 
correspondence in reference to the campaign 
work.
Early in February she wrote to Senator Allison 
of Iowa telling him of the letters she had 
and threatening to have the entire correspondence 
published in the newspaper of her 
claim was not settled. She wrote Allison that 
being a good Republican, she would prefer to 
have all the Republican dirty linen washed at 
home, but she had made up her mind to 
expose somebody unless her bill was paid.
On Feb. 25 she was dragged to the asylum 
at Danville as an insane pauper. She said she 
charged no one with conspiracy, but the managers 
of the asylum were but creatures of 
politics and that Quay, Clarkson, Dudley and 
others who knew she. a fearless 
woman, held damaging evidence against them, 
when they thought they had her buried alive 
in an asylum, tried to tramp the clods down on 
her grave.
[paragraph mark] She spoke with keen severity 
of the treatment if Horace Greeley 
by Jacob Whitelaw Reid of 
Greeley had failed of the 
[illegible]8)
election; of the shameful facts 
which then every one knew, but which 
now seem to be forgotten, of how 
he was crowded out of his office by 
the usurper whom he had himself 
made and fostered; of how she 
found him, broken in spirit and 
in health. Sitting alone and despairing, 
in a small side room 
in the Tribune building, with 
drooping head and hands, the 
picture of defeat and misery; 
of how she tried to say a reassuring 
word, and he replied - 
"You have been my firm and true
friend,  although you have received 
small gratitude from 
the Tribune; hereafter it shall 
be at your service; you shall 
say in it what you will." (This 
was probably before his last despairing 
cry to Reid - "can't my 
article go into the Tribune?") Yet 
from his death forward, the 
Tribune had been her enemy, 
albeit Reid had not, in the 
years before, been chary either
of admiration, compliments 
or fair promises to her. And here 
she told a very good story, in 
her own old arch, inimitable way. -

9)
As she met Reid somewhere 
one day, he said - "Do you know 
it is reported that we were engaged, 
and that you have jilted 
me? Is it not humiliating, to 
be accused of having been jilted?"
And she replied - "It 
seems to me if I could hear the 
accusation of the engagement, 
you can stand the nerve of 
having been jilted!" According 
to the recital, Reid's course toward 
her was most unmanly, 
mean and dastardly.
¶ Incidentally, she spoke of Irish 
politics and of Parnell, whom she 
had known. She said she herself 
thought him vain and self-conscious.
He was described 
as "vain" and "immoral." But
she could not see how anyone
condemn him as a leader 
on account of his vanity, when 
Roscoe Conkling's amazing vanity 
had never militated against 
his "leadership." And she added 
with a flash of her eyes, that it was 
highly amusing to hear Wanamaker, 
Blaine and other "virtuous" 
men condemning Parnell on
the score of immorality! A bit10/
of mote=and=beam work which has
abused every other woman besides 
Miss Dickinson;--who, [alternating?]
views, during her talk, when
she has occasion to use plain 
language, remarked,- "There is one
great advantage in having been
an inmate of a madhouse; it
enables one to say what one
chooses." The next morning's
[ ] papers-(every one knows
the delicacy of the New York Daily
News-) accused her of "telling vulgar 
stories of public men". It
seems rather odd that our most
admired and prominent men
can do with impunity things 
which a woman cannot mention
without being accused of "vulgarity".
¶ Miss Dickinson especially repudiated 
having used the word
"conspiracy", in relation to the late
imprisonment. But she [ind??tly]
 believes that political enmities 
and the concealed plans of
[?]=seeking wire=pullers, who
had their own reasons for wishing 
to secure her papers and 
letters, were some of the causes
underlying the late attempt on
per personal liberty. What only
the ordinary human being's have 
of freedom, but a personal and independent 
woman's indignation 
at the shameful insults put 
upon her during the outrage, fire
her soul and flash in her eyes
as she speaks of it. She wore
a beautiful black lace dress,

11)
a ruby necklace, and other 
costly jewels, and several fine
diamonds sparkled on her
shapely white hands. "I see a
gentleman in the audience," 
she said, "who known me. and
who does not like me. But he
has brains; and I want to ask 
him, with the rest of you – do
I look like an insane pauper?
a 'town=poor' inmate of a mad-house?" 
and she held up her
jewelled hand to point the
question. It is safe to say that
many of her hearers, had they
spoken their minds, would have 
said "If it is insanity that
makes Anna Dickinson so fearlessly 
truthful, so trenchant in
criticism, so inimical to all
injustice and wrong and oppression, 
as brave, as independent,
and as incorruptible, it is a 
great pity that her style of insecurity 
does not become fashionable – 
especially among 
political "leaders".
¶ The newspapers next morning
said she was shockingly "personal"
in her remarks. Why not? has
she not suffered every form12)"personalities"? Could there be 
a much more "pursued" offence 
against a woman [than to] drag
 her out of her own home, half-dressed 
and wholly unarmed, thrust 
her into a carriage with rude 
and insolent men, hustled her 
into a train without one of her own 
sex to keep her in amuleuance[?]
and consign her to a madhouse 
with raving maniacs? Why 
should she not be '"personal"' in 
denouncing those who have 
wronged her? A man is expected to 
be "personal" in defending himself 
from the stabs of an assassin;
why must a woman be 
so much more considerate of her persecutors?
If any pettier attempt is 
made to imprison Anna Dickinson
as a lunatic, more than 
one woman who heard this thoroughly
sane and earnest vindication, 
will make it her business to see 
that the victim is not considered 
unheard, nor dragged away to a 
living burial without a person 
to hear or help her.

[Luist? Luit? Lust?]