Showing posts with label 1910s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1910s. Show all posts

Monday, August 31, 2020

Wrong Side of History: The Anti-Suffragists

 By Rachel Dworkin, Archivist

2020 marks the 100th anniversary of the passage of the 19th Amendment, which granted American women the right to vote. Since I’ve already written about the suffrage movement here, here, and here, I thought I’d write about the movement’s dark sister: the anti-suffragists. 

It probably comes as no surprise to hear that there were many men opposed to women’s suffrage, but I was shocked (shocked!) to learn there were women opposed to gaining the vote. The Women’s Anti-Suffrage Association of Chemung County was founded by Mrs. Grace Alden Gregg for the express purpose of ensuring that the 1917 referendum to gain New York women the vote failed.  Gregg was the wife of attorney William W. Gregg, and, while she didn’t work, she was heavily involved in charity and social work through the First Presbyterian Church and the Y.W.C.A. She was joined in her fight against women’s suffrage by Mrs. M.H. Murphy, Mrs. H.H. Hallock, Mrs. W.W. Cole, Miss Helen McCann, Miss Flora Gannett, and Miss Mary Potter. Like Gregg, Murphy, Hallock, and Cole were the wives of well-to-do men and actively involved charity and social clubs.  Potter had been a schoolteacher and principal from 1873 to 1913, and regularly wrote educational articles for the Star-Gazette on various cultural and historical topics.

When the first women’s suffrage initiative appeared on the ballot in 1915, the majority of Chemung County voters were in favor, even though the referendum ultimately failed statewide. Throughout 1917, the anti-suffragists worked hard to change their minds. They took out advertisements in the local papers asking people to vote No. Mary Potter wrote a series of op-eds. They brought the famous anti-suffragist Miss Lucy Price to Elmira to speak to various men’s clubs and organizations. Every time the suffragists held a rally, the anti-suffragists held a counter rally. When the suffragists opened a booth at the Chemung County Fair, the anti-suffragists got a booth directly across from them. They even challenged suffragist leaders to a public debate which was politely declined. The Women’s Anti-Suffrage Association of Chemung County enjoyed community support, receiving $264 in donations, plus free space for meetings, free advertising on streetcars, and the use of 5 cars lent by local businessmen.



So, what were their main arguments against suffrage? Part of it was timing. In her op-eds, Potter specifically argued that the nation’s efforts should be focused on the war and that suffragists were an unpatriotic distraction. A lot of the argument against suffrage focused on traditional gender roles and a deep seated fear of change. Women, the anti-suffragists argued, were domestic angels who would be sullied by the nastiness of politics. Encouraging them to enter the public sphere could lead to the destruction of social norms which protected respectable women from rape and prostitution. Moreover, demanding the vote was tantamount to saying that the men in women’s lives were unable to properly represent women’s interests. Several anti-suffragists also claimed it was undemocratic to force the vote on those women who did not want it.  




As silly as some of those arguments seem now, the Women’s Anti-Suffrage Association of Chemung County’s campaign actually worked. On Election day, November 6, 1917, Chemung County voted No on women’s suffrage, even as the rest of the state voted yes. Despite having lost the battle, some of the local anti-suffragists refused to give up on the war. Gregg, Murphy, and Gannett represented Chemung County at the national meeting of the Association Opposed to Woman Suffrage in December 1917 in Washington, D.C. and continued to work against the national suffrage amendment. It wasn’t until the 1920s, after the passage of the 19th Amendment, that Mrs. Grace Gregg finally bowed to the force of history and registered to vote.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Inherent Vice in Downton Abbey


By Erin Doane, Curator

Like many people lately, I’ve become a fan of the PBS series Downton Abbey.  The characters and story are great but what I’ve really fallen in love with is the clothes.  For those unfamiliar, the series follows the lives of an aristocratic English family, the Crawleys, and their servants.  The first season began with the news of the sinking of the Titanic on April 15, 1912 and continued through to the outbreak of the First World War on August 4, 1914.  The second season took the household through the war and to the end of the decade.


The fashions of the Crawley women in the first season are what really caught my eye.  I have always been fond of the delicate gowns of the early 1910s.  Opulent is a word commonly used to describe those years before the First World War and the term is very fitting when specifically talking about the fashion.  It was a time of experimentation, with both the cut and drapery of fabric and with materials.  Designers were taking inspiration from the exotic Middle and Far East.  Corsets were loosened or discarded entirely and layers of soft flowing fabrics were decorated with silver and gold stitching, tiny beads and spangles, and all sorts of decorative trims and embroidery. 


All these details made gorgeous gowns but, unfortunately, also made them very fragile.  Over time, the weight of the decorations can pull apart the fine weave of the fabrics.  Trims and beads can catch on each other and careless handling through the years can cause unintended damage.  It is fairly rare to find one of the diaphanous gowns from the early 1910s in pristine condition.  I wonder sometimes if the designers and seamstresses at the time realized that their creations were so ephemeral.  It sort of makes sense that the almost frivolous opulence of such gowns could only last a short time.


Another problem with the long-term preservation of gowns from the 1910s comes from the very nature of their materials.  The natural physical properties of some objects make them deteriorate without any outside influence.  This specific inborn fragility in historic objects is known as inherent vice and has always been the bane of museum professionals and preservationists.  Some fabrics used to make gowns in the 1910s had real silver and gold threads woven into them.  Over time the metal reacts with the silk and causes it to shatter or tear apart.  The same is true for certain types of dyes that weaken the fibers.  Because these vices are part of the nature of the materials there is nothing that can be done to stop the deterioration process.  It can, however, be slowed. 

Careful handling of fragile gowns is essential to their longevity, as is proper storage.  Limiting exposure to light and maintaining an environment with constant, appropriate temperature and humidity levels also helps preserve them for a longer time.  Here at the Museum, we are working to get digital images of our textile collection so that the gowns can remain undisturbed as much as possible.  We may not be able to entirely stop these lovely, intricate, vice-ridden creations from deteriorating but we can slow the process so that future generations can enjoy the beauty of these fashions.