A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Twenty-Three

 

March, 1914

"So tell us again why we're meeting in the Observatory?" Angelica's voice held a mixture of boredom, annoyance, and just a touch of genuine curiosity. She was loath to admit it, but she could not be the only woman in the dormitory to miss this nighttime gathering.

"Because it's too cold to meet in the cemetery," another disgruntled voice piped up.

There were loud snickers at this, which Vera and a few others hurried to squash.

"Quiet, all of you!" Vera warned angrily. "We're not supposed to be in here!"

"Which brings us back to Angelica's question," a woman standing beside Rose spoke. "What are we doing here?"

"Until we are granted permission to form a club and meet on campus, we have to hold these meetings in secret," Vera explained. "I told all of you--"

"What's the purpose?" That voice belonged to an outspoken senior Rose only knew by her first name, Marilou. "Students here have been trying for years to start a club for suffragists. All our efforts have been for nil."

"Why do we need a suffrage club?" Angelica posed her question to Vera. "We'll never get the right to vote."

"If all of us felt the way you do, we never would," Vera snapped. "The movement is winning, ladies," she appealed to the group. "My home state, Illinois, is going to allow women to vote in the next presidential election!"

"Almost three years from now."

The dissenting voices were increasing in number and forcefulness. Even the stalwart Vera began to look weary at the barrage of arguments flying her way. Then a red-haired woman whom Rose didn't recognize appeared at Vera's side and began to address the crowd in a soft but confident tone.

"I believe some of you are familiar with Inez Milholland, the one who organized those early meetings in the cemetery. I had the pleasure of making her acquaintance at the March for Suffrage in Washington about a year ago. Inez was dressed all in white and rode a white horse. I asked her if her struggle to form a suffrage club at Vassar discouraged her in any way, and she said, 'If it had, would I be here today?' Ladies, we are too close to give up! President Taylor has retired. Maybe our school will get a new president with a fresh perspective. But no matter what happens, we cannot let Inez and all the other women who are fighting for the vote down."

The other students fell silent during this speech, and several--including some who'd been haranguing Vera just moments before--began to nod in agreement.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Marilou asked.

"I suggest a march of our own," the speaker replied.

"The deans won't allow it."

"Who says we have to ask permission?"

Vera smiled as the idea took hold. Some of the other women still looked doubtful, but Rose could see that the tide was turning.

A half-hour later, the clandestine meeting was adjourned and, as previously arranged, the students began to leave the auditorium in pairs so as not to attract attention. Rose had never been inside the Observatory before, and she took the opportunity to examine the planetary charts and telescopes. She soon found herself standing alongside the student who'd saved the meeting, yet whose name she didn't know.

"That was a stirring speech you made," Rose complimented her.

The woman smiled awkwardly. "Thank you. Certain things just...needed to be said."

"I'm Rose Dawson. Are you new here? I don't believe I've seen you before."

"This is my first year." The other woman accepted Rose's offered hand. "My name is Edna St. Vincent Millay. But you can call me Vincent."

*****

Rose's heart hammered against her ribcage; she couldn't still the tremors in her fingertips as she fumbled with the buttons along the right sleeve of her dress. She wished she could have worn something simpler, but the march organizers had insisted that everyone wear white. And the dress was wool, making it ideal for the chill early spring air.

"It's too cold to be parading around outdoors," Angelica complained, as if she could read Rose's mind. "Why am I doing this? I look absolutely dreadful in white!" She sighed and frowned at her reflection in the mirror above her bureau.

You're doing it because you like the attention, Rose thought. She was at first surprised at her bitter feelings, then chalked it up to nerves. Preparations for Meg's wedding in April--at which she would be one of the attendees--had given Teddy a reason to resume pressuring Rose for an answer to his proposal, and made her feel more than a little jealous of her best friend. Though she'd pushed it to the back of her mind, next month would also bring the anniversary of the sinking.

All this, and she and all the other participants in this protest could face severe disciplinary action for skipping class today.

There was a tentative knock at the door. Rose recognized it instantly as Charlotte's; no one else she knew knocked that softly. When she opened it and saw that Charlotte wasn't wearing white, her heart sank.

"Let me guess. Your parents found out."

Charlotte sank into a chair, a forlorn expression on her face, hands clenched tightly in her lap. "I made the mistake of confiding in my younger sister."

Angelica groaned, "Charlotte, you didn't."

"Angelica!" Rose warned.

"Well, we could all be in trouble! They're probably already spreading the word."

"They're doing no such thing. They really don't care about the march," Charlotte argued. There was a little edge to her voice, and Rose realized just how disappointed she was not to be able to participate. "They just feel it's unladylike. And they don't want me to miss any classes," she hastened to add, realizing the significance of what she'd said.

Angelica was mollified. "Well, at least you can stay inside where it's warm."

"How is Vera taking the news?" Rose asked.

"Not well, I'm afraid. She thinks I should defy my parents."

Rose had to agree with Vera, but something in Charlotte's demeanor told her nothing would change her mind.

But Vera wasn't quite ready to give up. When she met Rose and Angelica in the entry hall at the prearranged time of 2:30, Vera was as perturbed as Rose had ever seen her. "Did you see Charlotte? She just went to class."

"She's terrified of her parents finding out," Angelica said. "As well she should be. We could all be thrown out on our keisters."

"No one's throwing us out," came a cheery voice from behind them. Vincent positioned herself beside Vera. "They wouldn't dare."

Several other students were joining them now, and the excited whispers crescendoed to a roar as the women--more than a hundred strong--took their places on the lawn in front of the dormitory. Rose happened to glance upward and saw Mrs. Henderson in the window of her room. Though she never joined in any discussions of politics among the students, Vera claimed the dorm warden was a fervent supporter of women's rights and wouldn't dream of interfering in their plans. And, true to this claim, Mrs. Henderson smiled at Rose and lifted a hand in greeting. Rose waved back.

The march started promptly at 2:45, right as afternoon classes were to begin. Vera, Rose, and two other women led the procession carrying a banner that read:

VASSAR WOMEN FOR SUFFRAGE
Our Voices Must Be Heard.

Someone began to sing the Song for Equal Suffrage, whose tune matched that of The Battle Hymn of the Republic, and little by little the voices joined in until the rousing verses rang across the campus. Rose imagined there were eyes on her, harsh, judgmental eyes, but she kept her own faced forward and sang with pride.

They came to a stop at the Main Building, where the administrative offices were located, and began to chant, "We want the vote! We want the vote!"

This continued for about five minutes, and then one of the associate deans--someone Rose knew had very little real power at the college--stepped cautiously outside and addressed the marchers. The din quieted.

"Ladies, this is quite impressive, but I must ask that you disperse and go to class immediately. This gathering is unauthorized."

Vera, their self-appointed spokesperson, demanded, "Why, sir, is it that we are not allowed to meet on campus to discuss an issue of importance to everyone at this university: the right of women to vote?"

A cheer went up among the marchers. Rose looked around and was impressed at the number of bystanders who'd surrounded them, many of whom were members of the faculty...and many of whom were applauding as well.

Apparently the dean noticed, too, and he appeared nervous as he spoke. "If you wish to form a campus organization there are steps you can take--"

"We've taken steps. We've taken hundreds of steps, from one end of this campus to the other, and to the steps of your door to get our message across!" Vera began to chant again, punching her fist to accentuate the words, "We want a suffrage club!"

The other women joined in the spirited chant and the dean was unable to silence them. As they began to sing once again, he hurried inside, then returned a few minutes later, waving his arms.

"All right! All right!" The singing died down. "The other deans and I have agreed to meet this week to discuss your request. Miss Peterson, we would like for you to be present."

The women cheered again, and the dean attempted to shout over them, "Now please return to your classrooms!" His voice, however, was hoarse, and the jubilant marchers drowned him out.

Vera did meet with a committee of administration and faculty that week, and was assured that none of the students would face disciplinary action for missing class. However, permission for a Women's Suffrage Club was not granted until Dec. 1. Rose was its secretary until she graduated.

Author's Note: Although there was, to my knowledge, no march for suffrage on the Vassar campus, there actually were marches and open air meetings in support of a woman's right to vote in the city of Poughkeepsie, where the college is located. There really was a Women's Suffrage Club founded at Vassar in December, 1914. The poet Edna St. Vincent Millay was attending the school at this time, but as far as I know she had no role in organizing the club. However, the story of Inez Milholland, the famous suffragist who, while a student at Vassar, held meetings in a cemetery near the campus, is true.

Chapter Twenty-Four
Stories