American History Tellers - The Fight for Women's Suffrage | Passing the Torch | 3

Episode Date: March 16, 2022

As the 20th century dawned, a new generation of women rose to take control of the suffrage cause. These young activists were going to college, delaying marriage, and pursuing careers. Their political savvy helped the movement win victories at the state level in the West. But new leaders like Carrie Chapman Catt also shunned Black activists. Facing discrimination within their own movement, Black suffrage leaders like Ida B. Wells forged their own path, fighting racism and sexism on their own terms.Listen ad free with Wondery+. Join Wondery+ for exclusives, binges, early access, and ad free listening. Available in the Wondery App. https://wondery.app.link/historytellersPlease support us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's September 1896 in San Francisco, California. You are fresh out of college, where you led suffrage organizing on campus. Today, you're in the home of a wealthy suffrage supporter. She's asked you to train her in how to speak to potential voters, so she can join your canvassing efforts. With suffrage on the ballot in California in November,

this is a chance for both of you to make a real difference. All right. Pretend I'm a male voter at home home and you're a canvasser knocking on my door. The wealthy older woman nods and looks at her script as you close the parlor door, preparing for your role play. Go ahead. Yes? Good morning, sir. My name is Mrs. Minnie McKenzie. I'm going door-to-door speaking with voters about the suffrage referendum coming up in November. Have you heard about it? I don't know. I may have read something about it.

Wonderful. Can we count on your vote? Give ladies the vote? Why? Because it's the right thing to do. Last time I checked, the Bible says a woman's place is in the home. Well, that's rubbish. Have you seen the new book by Elizabeth Cady Stanton? It's very interesting. She criticizes biblical teachings that paint women as subservient to men.

Your trainee is going completely off script. You open the door wider and throw up your hand to stop her. Hold on a minute. You're never going to persuade male voters by being so confrontational. And for heaven's sake, do not mention that appalling book. Why not? Mrs. Stanton's argument is sound. And this movement would be nowhere without her.

She may have pioneered our cause, but we have to be more pragmatic. We can't afford to alienate men. The older woman narrows her gaze. How old are you anyway? 22? 23? I may be young, but if you ask me, it's youth that this movement sorely needs. We're facing tough opposition. The local press is against us. The liquor industry is spending thousands to defeat us. We need to be strategic. So what do you suggest?

Find out what the voter cares about and tailor your argument. Does he believe women should stick to being mothers? Tell him that mothers need a voice on school boards. Is he worried about immigrants? Talk to him about how educated white women can counter their votes. The older suffragist looks horrified. Absolutely not. I'm no nativist. We just need to lay out the argument, plain and simple.

Equality is a founding value of this country, and women deserve equal rights as a matter of principle. That argument has gotten us nowhere. We're just as far from the vote as we were 50 years ago. This campaign is running out of time and money. We have to be smarter. Let's try again. You give her a tight smile and close the door, a little louder than you mean to. You know this woman means well, but you're struggling to hide your frustration. After meeting many older suffragists just like her, you're not surprised that after nearly five decades of fighting, American women are hardly any closer to winning the ballot. You're convinced it's time for a new generation, your generation, to take control. The Best Idea Yet. You may have heard of it. It's all about the untold origin stories of the products you're obsessed with.

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I'm your host, Brandon Jinks Jenkins. Follow Criminal Attorney on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers. Our history, your story. In the 1890s, a new generation of women flooded the suffrage ranks. College graduates, career professionals, and working-class wage earners alike took up the cause. They were restless and forward-thinking, determined to make real progress in the decades-old

fight for the vote. But this second wave was more pragmatic than their predecessors and more willing to compromise to achieve their goals. They cast aside calls for justice and equality, adopting practical arguments they hoped would bring men to their side. Political expediency helped win victories in the West, but too often white suffragists sidelined their Black allies, fearing that integration would turn off potential supporters. Despite this, Black women forged on, creating their own movement to challenge both sexism and racism as they continued to campaign for voting rights. A half-century after the first call for equality at Seneca Falls, suffragists continued to face enormous challenges.

But a new era was dawning for the suffrage crusade, one in which youthful energy and bold new tactics would reinvigorate the struggle. This is Episode 3, Passing the Torch. In February 1890, suffragists packed a music hall in Washington, D.C. for an important meeting. Longtime leaders Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony were both in attendance. For two decades, their group, the National Woman Suffrage Association, had clashed over strategy with a more conservative American Woman Suffrage Association, had clashed over strategy with a more conservative American Woman Suffrage Association. But at the meeting in Washington, D.C., the two groups negotiated a merger, and a new organization was born, the National American Woman Suffrage

Association, or NAWSA. This single, unified group would lead the movement for the next 30 years. By the time of the merger, Stanton was 74 years old. She had spearheaded the early years of the suffrage movement, but now she was ready to spend more time with her family and devote herself to just writing. She accepted the post as president of the new group, but her close ally Anthony took on the bulk of the leadership work. And within just two years, Stanton stepped down, formally handing the reins to Antony. But Stanton kept her eyes focused on the long-term goal of equality. On January 18, 1892, she stood before Congress, delivering a farewell speech to the suffrage movement,

entitled The Solitude of Self. She believed it to be her crowning masterpiece, a meditation on the fundamentalquality of Men and Women. In it, Stanton declared, The strongest reason why we ask for a voice in government is because of a woman's birthright to self-sovereignty, because as an individual, she must rely on herself. Urging women to develop self-reliance and inner strength, Stanton said goodbye to the movement she had helped lead for more than four decades. Her departure set the stage for the next chapter in the suffrage fight. The 1890s were fast becoming the era of the new woman.

Women from all walks of life were going to college in greater numbers, delaying marriage and seizing bigger roles in the economy and public life. Women were no longer confined to just domestic roles. Millions of them now earned wages and pursued careers. They had abandoned the corsets and conventions of their mothers and wanted real, lasting change for their daughters. This new generation of educated and independent women would lead the suffrage fight into the 20th century.

But first, they would need the support of one of the movement's founders. Imagine it's May 1893, and you're at the World's Fair in Chicago. You're a suffrage activist in your 20s, and you've traveled all the way here from Denver, Colorado, for one reason, to meet with NAWSA President Susan B. Anthony. Your fellow organizers have sent you here to convince her to back your state's second attempt at a suffrage referendum. Anthony has just finished delivering a speech. Try to corner her as she descends the stairs from the stage.

Miss Anthony, please allow me to give you a hand. You reach out your arm to help her down the steps. She shakes her head. I may be old, but I assure you I'm just as capable as ever. She shakes her head. You walk with her towards the exit of the pavilion, feeling somewhat awestruck to be speaking with a woman you've heard we have a statewide referendum coming up. And I suppose you want the National Association's support. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it's out of the question. You didn't expect her to reject you so quickly. You struggled to regain your composure. But Miss Anthony, if we had the association's resources, it would really help our cause. Our war chest is tiny.

We already tried and lost in Colorado 16 years ago. Don't think I've forgotten. These state campaigns are a waste of time and money. Anthony pushes her way through the pavilion exit, past a brass band, toward the water pool in the center of Jackson Park. She moves quickly for a 73-year-old, and you rush to keep up. Please, Ms. Anthony. Things are different now. I think we might actually be able to convince a majority of voters to back suffrage. And why is that? We've learned from the mistakes of the last campaign. This time around, we're not going to work with the temperance folks. We're canvassing by linking suffrage to issues male voters care about. Anthony stops and turns to face you.

There's a new spark in her eyes. All right, tell me more. The populists control the state legislature in Colorado now. They're all about empowering the powerless. By linking our message to theirs, we think we can reach more voters. And we don't speak of women's suffrage, but of equal suffrage. I'm telling you, it's working. Anthony gazes at you with the slightest hint of a smile. She seems to be seeing you with fresh eyes. Well, I must say, I'm impressed. Miss Anthony, I was born a suffragist. I've looked up to you all my life. Your support would mean the world to me, to all of us. Fine. I'll put resources from the national organization into your campaign. And I have just the woman to send your way. Someone who can help

you allocate those resources and get your message across. That's wonderful. I promise we're not going to let you down. Anthony nods and walks off and you breathe a sigh of relief, thrilled to have the validation of your hero. With the support of the national organization, you might just have a chance of pulling this campaign off. Susan B. Anthony was pessimistic about state campaigns after experiencing defeats in the West in the 1870s and 80s, including one especially crushing loss in Colorado in 1877. But she was impressed by the grassroots efforts of several second-generation organizers. So in 1893, when one of those organizers tried to convince her

to support a new referendum campaign in Colorado, she said yes. To help, Anthony sent a promising up-and-comer from the NAWSA, a woman named Carrie Chapman Catt. Catt traced her suffrage activism back to Election Day, 1872, when she was just 13 years old. That year, while Anthony was trying to cast her ballot in Rochester, New York, Catt was living 1,000 miles away in rural Iowa. When she saw her father getting ready to go vote, she asked her mother why she wasn't leaving too. Only at that moment did C Kat learn that women were barred

from the ballot box. Witnessing that inequality in her own home sparked Kat's lifelong quest for the vote. In many ways, Kat embodied the new woman of the younger generation. She had graduated with a Bachelor of Science from Iowa State as the only woman in her graduating class. And after her first husband died of typhoid, she married a man named George Catt. But they spent most of their time apart. Her most important relationship was with suffragist Mary Garrett Hay. The pair had an intimate bond and eventually shared a home, but it was never made explicit that their relationship was romantic. Their partnership fell under the category of a Boston marriage, a late 19th century term that gave social acceptance to a range of non-conforming lifestyles.

Women in Boston marriages often lived together, whether as close friends, professional collaborators, or romantic partners. Suffrage activism offered many women the freedom to defy heterosexual norms, whether by choosing not to marry or by engaging in same-sex relationships. Kat's suffrage activism began for real in the 1880s, working with the Women's Christian Temperance Union. In 1890, she met Susan B. Anthony for the first time. Anthony sent Kat to South Dakota to help lead a referendum effort there. It was a difficult campaign, and it ended in defeat. But Kat had honed her talents as an organizer,

and she resolved to be better prepared for the next fight. That fight came in Colorado. After arriving in Denver on Labor Day 1893, Kat traveled hundreds of miles across the state over the next two months. At age 34, she was a tireless organizer and a powerful speaker, capable of persuading audiences and inspiring her colleagues' trust. One follower reflected, to see her was like looking at sheer marble, flame-lit. Her crowning achievement was to sway an audience to emotion by the symmetry and force

of her appeal. The Colorado campaign revealed the political savvy of the younger suffragists. Organizers there employed poll watchers to prevent election fraud and partnered with labor unions for door-to-door canvassing. They also learned from the challenges of the 1870s and the powerful pushback of the liquor lobby they no longer worked with temperance activists. Instead, they tailored suffrage to the current political climate, adopting the rhetoric of the populist party that controlled the state legislature. Ultimately, the campaign ended in a victory. On November 7, 1893, Colorado became the first U.S. state to grant women the vote by a popular referendum. The win cemented Kat's reputation as a new leading force in the movement

and a likely successor of Susan B. Anthony. Kat soon turned her organizational brilliance to the NAWSA itself, which she felt was fundamentally weak. Its leaders did not even know how many local chapters there were or the names of the women who led them. There was no one in charge of finances and no concrete goals.

So in 1895, she took over the association's organizing committee, streamlining its unwieldy structure, strengthening its training programs, and outlining clear goals for every state. Under Catt's leadership, the new NAWSA separated itself from the older generation of suffragists. In 1896, Elizabeth Cady Stanton published a controversial bestseller called The Woman's Bible, which attacked the Christian Bible for portraying women as inferior to men. Fearing the ties to Stanton's writing would harm the NAWSA,

Catt and other leaders voted to censure Stanton, despite pleas from Susan B. Anthony, who was still the association's president. But Anthony was eager to move forward, too, and kept her eye on cultivating other young leaders in the movement. One of these was an activist named Anna Howard Shaw. Born in England in 1847, Shaw and her family immigrated to Massachusetts when she was four, then moved to the wilderness of northern Michigan, where they barely survived their first year. Shaw was a

self-made woman. Despite her childhood poverty, she eventually earned two advanced degrees, becoming a successful Methodist minister and physician. But by the 1880s, Shaw had channeled her grit and determination into suffrage activism, working within the temperance movement. She was an eloquent speaker, commanding audiences despite her five-foot stature. She met Susan B. Anthony in 1887, and Anthony soon took her under her wing. Shaw eventually became a part of Anthony's extended family when she began a relationship with Anthony's niece, Lucy. Shaw and Lucy Anthony had their own Boston marriage. They were lifelong partners, lived together, and merged their finances.

In 1896, Anthony tapped Shaw to lead a referendum campaign in California. Shaw traveled up and down the state delivering lectures. The California organizers struggled to overcome tough opposition, lacking the funds and support staff to cover such a large state. The hard-fought campaign ended in a devastating defeat. But that same year, Idaho became the fourth state to grant women the right to vote, joining Colorado, Wyoming, and Utah. But after the defeat in California, suffragists struggled to regain momentum. Over the next 14 years, women's suffrage was put before voters just a handful of times, with all measures ending in failure. Efforts to pass a federal

amendment had been abandoned. The outlook for widespread suffrage looked bleak. Passionate and impatient new leaders had risen up in the movement, but the vote had rarely seemed so far out of reach. Desperate to advance their cause, suffragists looked to the South for new supporters. But there, a controversial new strategy founded on racial prejudice would divide the suffrage ranks, prompting new groups to enter the fight. I'm Tristan Redman, and as a journalist, I've never believed in ghosts. But when I discovered that my wife's great-grandmother was murdered in the house next door to where I grew up, I started wondering about the inexplicable things that happened in my childhood bedroom. When I tried to find out more, I discovered that someone who slept in my room after me, someone I'd never met, was visited by the ghost of a faceless woman. So I started

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and how even today we remain enthralled to his strange creatures of the night. You can binge all episodes of The Real History of Dracula exclusively with Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus and The Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. In January 1895, Susan B. Anthony and Carrie Chapman Catt toured the South, hoping to recruit Southern white women to the suffrage cause. The National American Women's Suffrage Association was set to hold a convention in Atlanta at the end of the month. It was the first time the organization had ever held its annual meeting in the South, where few men supported giving women the vote. But local suffrage

societies had begun to spring up throughout the South, and Catt hoped to take advantage of the growing enthusiasm. Anthony and Catt's Southern tour came amid a tide of racist backlash to the post-Civil War Reconstruction era, in which formerly enslaved Black Southerners had briefly improved their economic and political status. To roll back those gains, Southern states enacted ruthless Jim Crow laws to legalize discrimination and block Black men from the ballot box. Often, these laws were enforced by vigilante justice and brutal violence, as lynchings reached their highest levels in American history. Amid this climate, to gain Southern support for white women's voting rights, the National Association condoned segregation and

Jim Crow, sidelining Black suffrage activists. Even the famed abolitionist Frederick Douglass, who had remained a steadfast supporter of women's suffrage since Seneca Falls, was not invited to the Atlanta Convention so as not to alienate local whites. This approach was known as the Southern Strategy. It was an extension of tactics suffragists had long used in the North, where they had denounced immigrant voters as ignorant and unworthy of participating in democratic institutions like the popular ballot. They argued that native-born white women's votes could act as a counterbalance to the votes of immigrants. Now, suffragists adapted this rhetoric to the South. Speaking before the convention in

Atlanta on January 31, 1895, Catt declared, There is a race problem everywhere. In the North and in the West, it is the problem of the illiterate declared, Despite Katz's racist rhetoric, Frederick Douglass continued to support the suffrage movement. Just weeks after the Atlanta Convention, on February 20, 1895, he attended a suffrage meeting in Washington, D.C. But later that night, he died of a heart attack, having never given up his fight for all Americans to win the vote. But for many Black women in the suffrage movement, the Southern strategy was a slap in the face. So as white-led groups forged ahead, Black women created their own movement. One of its leaders was a

trailblazing journalist and activist named Ida B. Wells. Wells was born to enslaved parents soon after the Emancipation Proclamation was issued. In the 1880s, she lived in Memphis, working as an investigative journalist and the part owner of a black newspaper. In 1892, though, her life was changed when three of her friends were murdered by a white Memphis mob. Soon after, Wells launched an anti-lynching crusade in the pages of her newspaper. White residents retaliated by burning her press to the ground, forcing her to flee Memphis. Wells settled in Chicago and threw herself into political organizing. By then, Illinois had granted women what was known as school suffrage, the right to vote for elected education officials.

Wells helped lead the campaign of Lucy Flower, a white woman who was elected to the University of Illinois Board of Trustees. Inspired by the activism of Wells, Black women in cities across the country formed the first Black women's clubs to lift up their communities. These clubs were modeled on white, middle-class women's clubs that were popular in the era. Such clubs often campaigned for suffrage, but also worked to better their communities, establishing public libraries, kindergartens, parks, and juvenile courts. Like their white counterparts, Black women's clubs fought for suffrage. They also challenged discrimination and racial violence, raised money for scholarships for young Black women to attend college, and published pamphlets to educate the public about lynching. Josephine St. Pierre Ruffin

founded Boston's first Black women's club after watching Wells speak at an anti-lynching fundraiser. In 1895, Ruffin called on the country's Black clubs to come together and form a national organization. The following year, Ruffin, Wells, and a third activist named Mary Church Terrell founded the National Association of Colored Women. Black women had always been a part of the suffrage movement, but now for the first time, they had their own national platform, free from the discrimination of white-led organizations. Under the motto, Lifting As We Climb, they championed votes for all women, as well as black men facing disenfranchisement.

Ruffin still believed in working with white women for suffrage, but as she and others continued to face discrimination from white-led clubs, her resolve would be pushed to its breaking point. Imagine it's June 1900. You're stepping into a meeting hall in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. You've come all the way from Boston to attend an annual convention of women's clubs. It's registration day, and you've made sure to get here early. You sweep your gaze across the crowded convention floor, eager to discuss the challenges facing women with delegates from all over the country. You approach a table near the door, where a white woman is seated, checking credentials. Good morning. I'm with the Women's Era Club in Boston.

You proudly point to the badge on your chest, but the woman eyes you suspiciously. Are you a member of any other clubs? Yes. I'm also in the New England you suspiciously. Are you a member of any other clubs? Yes. I'm also in the New England Women's Club. Well, you're welcome to attend as a representative of them. But you can't be here with the Women's Era Club. Then why would that be? Because it's for colored ladies, of course.

Here, go ahead and sign in with your other organization. She hands you a pencil and a clipboard as you stare at her in disbelief. I founded the Woman's Era Club to better my community, empower women, and win the vote. I belong here as a member of that organization. Well, you're not the one who decides who belongs.

Now, like I said, you're welcome to attend with your white ladies club. There must be someone I can speak to. I promise you, we're all in agreement. Your black club isn't welcome. Suddenly, without warning, she reaches across the table and rips the membership badge off your dress. How dare you! What gives you the right?

A crowd of white women has gathered around you. You search their faces for support, but find none. Fine. If I can't attend with my own club, I won't be attending at all. The woman smiles and turns to a colleague. Just as well. I told you we should be banning black ladies altogether. You walk out of the convention hall hall stung to have been excluded. You hope the tide might finally be turning toward integration, that the battle for suffrage could be fought by black and white activists, side by side.

But after experiencing such blatant discrimination, you're beginning to think that black women have no choice but to stand on their own. In June 1900, Josephine St. Pierre Ruffin tried to attend a national convention of women's clubs in Milwaukee, hoping to represent the black women's clubs she had founded in Boston. But after a white delegate ripped her membership badge from her dress, Ruffin withdrew from the convention. Her action sparked a wave of positive press coverage on her behalf. But she was left disillusioned by the incident and encouraged Black women to chart their own path. Ruffin's club issued an official statement that declared, colored women should confine themselves to their clubs and the large field of work open to them there. Meanwhile, white suffragists doubled down on the Southern strategy. In 1900, Carrie

Chapman Catt succeeded Susan B. Anthony as president of the NAWSA. Three years later, the organization prohibited Black women from attending its annual convention in New Orleans. At that meeting, the association officially adopted a states' rights platform, meaning that each state-level affiliate could set its own terms for membership. Often, they chose to exclude black members. But in the end, the Southern strategy was a failure. No real progress was made in the region. Several Southern states did consider suffrage at the turn of the century, but all of them rejected it. Southern, white, male voters and politicians remained unconvinced that they needed white women to counteract black men at the polls.

So eventually, the National Association abandoned the Southern strategy. It was becoming clear that suffragists were no better off for excluding black women. But the damage had been done, and it would not be the last time that white suffrage leaders would betray their Black allies. In 1902, Elizabeth Cady Stanton died at the age of 86. Four years later, Susan P. Anthony also died of heart failure. By then, Anna Howard Shaw had taken over the presidency of the National Association after Cat stepped down to care for her ailing husband. On her deathbed, Anthony told Shaw, I have been striving for over 60 years for a little bit of justice,

and yet I must die without obtaining it. It seems so cruel. Stanton and Anthony had fought for suffrage for more than half a century, but they would not live to see the fruits of their labor. Yet with the passing of the founding generation came new ideas for progress. In the early 1900s, the NAWSA cast aside anti-immigrant rhetoric. It built a bridge with the labor movement, engaging with immigrants and working-class women. A growing number of women were members of trade unions, and these women wanted the vote to better their working conditions, and suffragists recognized a ready-made political force. Suffragists also joined forces with a growing progressive movement, which emerged in response to the excesses and inequalities of the late 19th

century. These grassroots reformers wanted to harness the power of government to fight corruption, protect workers, and end child labor. And they believed women's votes could help them get there. Over the next decade, the progressive movement would become a key force in making suffrage a reality. By 1910, it had been 14 years since any state had enfranchised women. But that year, suffragists waged a campaign in Washington state, partnering with local labor organizers and progressive reformers. And in November, suffrage passed with nearly two-thirds of the vote. Finally, the drought was over and a fifth state had entered the suffrage column. Activists hoped that momentum was building.

The next year, in 1911, a diverse coalition of 10,000 activists pushed for a suffrage referendum in California. In Los Angeles, Latina women translated speeches and leaflets into Spanish. In San Francisco, immigrant women canvassed their communities and printed advertisements in Italian and Chinese newspapers. Working-class suffragists lobbied trade unions throughout the state, and members of Black suffrage clubs worked as poll watchers to prevent fraud. Their collective efforts paid off on Election Day, when California voters narrowly approved the suffrage measure there. The successes in Washington and California marked a turning

point, renewing hope and re-energizing the movement. By 1911, the NAWSA counted 100,000 members, more than 10 times its ranks a decade earlier. Thousands more had joined local suffrage groups and the National Association of Colored Women. And over the next few years, more Western states would grant women the vote. Still, many wondered what it would take for suffrage to finally gain ground outside the West. Some doubted the wisdom of waging the battle state by state. Instead, they began to look for inspiration across the Atlantic, to Great Britain, where activists there were campaigning on a national level and drawing attention to their cause with radical acts of protest. For more than two centuries, the White House has been the stage

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Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. While American suffragists searched for a way forward, those in Britain were capturing the world's attention with dramatic acts of civil disobedience. The British movement was led by Emmeline Pankhurst and her daughters, Christabel and Sylvia. The Pankhursts and their followers used newsworthy, confrontational tactics to force public attention to their cause. They interrupted meetings in Parliament. They stood on soapboxes to give speeches on street corners. And they launched mass demonstrations with tens of thousands crowding the streets, all at a time when suffrage marches were unheard of in America.

The British press derisively called them suffragettes, a name the activists soon co-opted. In November 1907, Christabel Pankhurst delivered a lecture at Birmingham University. When she spoke, male students taunted her, ringing bells, blowing whistles, and even pelting her with a dead mouse. But in the audience was a young American woman named Alice Paul. At 22 years old, Paul represented the third generation of American suffrage activists. She was born in 1885 to a wealthy family in New Jersey. Her parents raised her as a Quaker, instilling in her a deep-seated belief in equality. She was extremely well-educated,

having earned a master's degree from the University of Pennsylvania. And in 1907, she moved to England to continue her studies in economics at Birmingham University. As Paul watched Christabel Pankhurst face male hecklers with confidence and poise, she was instantly converted to the suffrage cause. She moved to London and began attending marches, where her courage in the face of danger won her the respect of fellow suffragettes. She sold suffrage newspapers on street corners and stood on soapboxes giving speeches, enduring verbal and physical abuse from men who passed by. In June 1909, Paul joined a massive protest in Parliament Square, where police charged the suffragettes, grabbing them by their throats and throwing them to the ground. There, Paul was arrested for the first time, one of more than 100 women hauled off by the police.

Undaunted, suffragettes escalated their efforts with more extreme acts, smashing store windows and antagonizing police. In November 1909, Paul and a fellow protester, Amelia Brown, disguised themselves as cleaning women and snuck inside a government banquet. When the British Prime Minister rose to speak, they threw a shoe through a pane of stained glass and cried out, Votes for Women! The pair were arrested and sent to prison for a month. But while in jail, Paul launched a new form of protest. Following the advice of Emmeline Pankhurst, she demanded status as a

political prisoner rather than treatment as an ordinary criminal. Men arrested for political reasons were given special rights. They were housed separately, not required to wear prison garb and could read newspapers and write letters. When her request was denied, Paul launched a hunger strike, refusing to eat. But authorities responded with a gruesome new tactic, force-feeding. Twice a day for a month, guards strapped Paul to a chair, binding a towel around her neck. And then they inserted a long glass tube through her nostrils and poured a mixture of eggs and milk down her digestive tract. Paul endured force-feeding more than 50 times. Upon her release from prison, she told

reporters, the pain was intense, but I would not give in. Soon, reports of Alice Paul's horrific force-feeding reached U.S. newspapers, turning her into a minor celebrity. And thanks to the dramatic tactics of the British suffragettes, the Pankhursts found an eager audience when they visited the United States in 1909. That October, 3,000 New Yorkers thronged Carnegie Hall to see Emmeline Pankhurst deliver a speech. Another 1,000 had to be turned away. And over the next month, Pankhurst traveled the country, generating publicity and excitement. Among those who invited Pankhurst to speak was Harriet Stanton Blatch,

the daughter of Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Inspired by the Pankhurst to speak was Harriet Stanton Blatch, the daughter of Elizabeth Katie Stanton. Inspired by the Pankhurst's militant tactics in England, Blatch was ready to move beyond the parlor politics of her mother's generation. In 1907, she had founded a new organization, the Equality League of Self-Supporting Women. It was an alliance of middle-class professionals and working-class women from New York's factories and garment shops, women who were prepared to try more confrontational methods. And soon, New York women were standing on soapboxes like their British counterparts. And it wasn't only working-class women flocking to the suffrage ranks. Increasingly, women of New York high society joined the movement.

And these women of means gave suffrage the funding and social acceptance it desperately needed. Imagine it's November 1909. You're in a skyscraper on New York's Fifth Avenue, coming up the elevator to visit the brand new headquarters for the National American Women's Suffrage Association. You've just begun to help fund the organization with your immense fortune, and today you've come with a proposal. Thank you very much. The elevator operator holds the doors open for you as you step into the reception room, furnished with black carved oak.

Everywhere you look, there are unpacked boxes of suffrage literature, portraits of suffrage pioneers hanging on the wall. Good morning. You turn around to see a gray-haired woman enter the room, one of the leading officials here in New York. Good morning. It's wonderful to see the place coming together.

We couldn't have done it without you. Here, we just had these made. She steps forward and places a pin on your chest with the slogan, Votes for Women. I'll wear it proudly. Please, have a seat. Was there something you wanted to discuss? Or would you like the grand tour? You sit down in a leather chair, facing her.

As a matter of fact, I do have something on my mind. I know I've only recently joined the movement, but I have some ideas. Go on. As you know, I was in London earlier this year. I witnessed the Pankhurst in action. And I'm telling you, I think this organization could learn a thing or two from them. Is that so?

These endless conventions you put on every year, aren't they a bit old-fashioned? You're preaching to the already converted. But the suffragettes across the pond, now they know how to get their cause onto the front page. The woman points to the portraits of Lucy Stone, Susan B. Anthony, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton hanging above you. Need I remind you, our conventions are part of a grand tradition. And every success we've had, however large or small, is built on that tradition. No one ever expected this would be quick or easy. Of course not.

I just wonder if we could try something new. Maybe a large march, like the ones they do in London. Something that will get us headlines. Headlines may be all well and good, but our goal is to change laws. Getting publicity is easy. Translating it into real reform? That's another story. But surely news coverage gets people talking.

We need voters to pay attention to our cause, to care about it. Dramatic antics may get people talking. We need voters to pay attention to our calls, to care about it. Dramatic antics may get people talking, but that doesn't mean they'll say good things about us. We must be cautious. And in any case, we have campaigns in the West to focus on right now. The official gives you a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes. You smile back. Like I said, it was just an idea.

I'll see myself out. You pick up your handbag and hat and walk toward the door. You fear this movement has become paralyzed by the past and that unless things change, you'll never win the vote. You want to be part of that change. And if that means you'll have to leave this prominent organization behind and take your money elsewhere, then that's what you're prepared to do. Alva Belmont was a socialite and multimillionaire who had accumulated her fortune through her marriages to railroad magnate William Vanderbilt and banking heir Oliver Belmont. She was a critical source of funding for the NAWSA.

She had even paid for its new headquarters in New York. But after traveling to England and meeting the Pankhursts in 1909, Belmont began to doubt the effectiveness of the organization. She was ready to use her platform and pocketbook to support more radical tactics. Belmont was just one of many activists who wanted the National Association to adopt a fresh approach to suffrage. For years, it had neglected work on a federal amendment to focus on state campaigns. But two decades after its founding,

the organization had only won a handful of victories. National leaders celebrated triumphs in the West, but they failed to turn those victories into a coherent strategy for nationwide success. Suffragists had been fighting for the ballot for 60 years, but they were no closer to winning voting rights for all American women. And so soon, many of them would look to a young leader to reinvigorate their cause. In January 1910, Alice Paul boarded a ship and sailed back to the United States, ready to transport British tactics across the Atlantic.

She was pale and emaciated from her hunger strike, but her experiences in prison had hardened her. She was committed to making suffrage her life's cause. Soon, Paul would take up command of the Decades Old Movement. She resolved to renew the push for a long-awaited constitutional amendment, one that would enshrine suffrage into federal law. And to do that, she was prepared to shock the old suffrage establishment

with a daring new plan of attack. From Wondery, this is episode three of the fight for women's suffrage from American history tellers. On our next episode, 5,000 women face hostile crowds as they parade down Pennsylvania Avenue, pressuring President Woodrow Wilson to support a federal amendment. And Alice Paul's dramatic tactics generate headlines, but open new rifts in the suffrage movement.

If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. If you'd like to learn more about the suffrage movement, we recommend Suffrage, Women's Long Battle for the Vote by Ellen Carol Du Bois, and Vanguard, How Black Women Broke Barriers, Won the Vote and Insisted on Equality for All by Martha S. Jones. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham, for Airship. Audio editing by Molly Bach. Sound design by Derek Behrens.

Music by Lindsey Graham. Voice acting in this episode by Cat Peoples and Cynthia San Luis. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton, edited by Dorian Marina. Our senior producer is Andy Herman. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marshall Louis for Wondery. How did Birkenstocks go from a German cobbler's passion project 250 years ago to the Barbie movie today? Who created that bottle of red Sriracha with a green top that's permanently living in your fridge? Did you know that the Air Jordans were initially banned by the NBA?

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