Jettisoning the nuance of Papez’s study, the New York Times headline proclaimed “Woman’s Brain Not Inferior to Men’s.” The ensuing article reported that Gardener’s brain “posthumously substantiated her lifelong contention that, given the same environment, woman’s brains are the equal of man’s.”73 Gardener would have been pleased. In changing her name, obscuring much of her early life, and destroying her papers, she sent the message that she wanted her brain to stand as her final legacy. And, for a little while, it did.
During its heyday, the Burt Wilder Brain Collection contained hundreds of specimens. Today it contains just eight that are identifiable and suitable for display. One of these eight brains is Helen Hamilton Gardener’s. Jarred in formaldehyde, her brain floats in a glass case outside the Psychology Department, much like she imagined it might in her poem “Brains at Cornell.” But Stanton is not there beside her. The other specimens are all male. Gardener’s name is misspelled on the explanatory poster (though it is correct on her jar), and hardly any of the students or faculty who pass by each day know who she was or what prompted her unusual donation. Gardener was confident that once the brain of an educated woman had been studied, no one would dare claim that women’s brains differed in any essential way from men’s. She would be frustrated, but probably not surprised, to learn that one of the most persistent promises of modern brain research and of each new brain imaging technology has been that it will illuminate, once and for all, the differences between male and female brains.74
Gardener’s brain remains on display at Cornell University, a final testament to her lifelong efforts to establish the equality of women.
BEFORE TURNING HER attention to the vote in the 1910s, Helen Hamilton Gardener devoted her life to creating the preconditions that made the vote possible. She encouraged women to question the stories that taught that they were designed by God and nature to be subservient to men; she demanded that scientific studies of sex differences be accountable to evidence and reason, not predetermined by male bias; she insisted that women had more to offer than their virginity and that men be held to the same standard of sexual morality as women. Above all, Gardener hoped to establish that women, too, inherently possessed the unalienable rights to think for themselves, earn their own money, have a say in the laws by which they were governed, and pursue their own happiness. Throughout her seventy-two years, she challenged all the prevailing ideologies of her time, save one: white privilege. Gardener proved a valiant, yet imperfect, soldier in what she called the “greatest bloodless revolution.”
In the years following Gardener’s death, Rena Smith, her former secretary, hastened to write a biography of Gardener, whom she believed to have been one of the most remarkable women of her era. Likewise, Maud Wood Park strove to make sure Gardener’s contributions would not be lost to history, suggesting her for inclusion in a series of historic commemorations and repeatedly writing down her own recollections of Gardener’s achievements.75 Sadly, much like Adelaide Johnson’s sculpted bust of Gardener, these efforts were never completed.
No streets, monuments, or historical markers bear her name. But Gardener’s ashes are buried next to Selden Day, in lot number 4072, at Arlington National Cemetery, “the great city of the dead heroes of many wars,” as she described it. Characteristically, she insisted that both of her names be inscribed on her tombstone. Underneath Day’s entry, it reads: “Helen H. Gardener, Born Alice Chenoweth-Day.” She had returned to Virginia, as a Chenoweth, after all.
Acknowledgments
IF I LIVE TO WRITE TEN MORE BOOKS, I may not enjoy the process of writing another as much as I have enjoyed this one. Tracing the life of Helen Hamilton Gardener has proved to be a great adventure. In large part, this is due to the many wonderful people I have encountered along the way—from expert archivists, to local history enthusiasts, to Chenoweth descendants, to people who live in the houses where Gardener once lived, to fellow scholars. It is my pleasure to acknowledge and thank the many people who have helped make this book possible. I am only sorry that there is not room enough to name everyone who has helped bring this project to completion.
I first encountered Gardener in 2004 when I was flipping through the pages of old Popular Science Monthly magazines in the Perry-Casteñada Library at the University of Texas in Austin. I have been researching, thinking, and writing about her ever since. For encouraging my interest in Gardener at its very earliest phases, I thank Robert Abzug and Janet Davis, who have remained role models, readers, and friends all these years.
For their insightful comments on various conference papers related to Gardener, I want to thank Sarah Richardson, Kathi Kern, Lori Ginzberg, Carolyn Eastman, Catherine Cox, Debbie Weinstein, Elaine Leong, Rosalind Rosenberg, Lilian Calles Barger, Andrea Turpin, and Michelle Nickerson. Several other scholars and friends, including Carla Bittel, Sally Gregory Kohlstedt, Jenna Tonn, Daisy Hernandez, Alicia Gibson, Matt Hedstrom, and Cindy Klestinec, have read sections of the manuscript at various stages and provided vital feedback. Thanks to Dan Bouk for helping me decipher Charles Smart’s insurance company memos and to Barron Lerner for helping me puzzle through Smart’s health ailments. I am especially grateful to Stacy Cordery, Mary Frederickson, Monica Schneider, Jim Tobin, Nancy Unger, and Susan Ware for their careful readings of the penultimate draft of this manuscript. It is much improved thanks to their expertise and feedback.
Special thanks are due to the growing band of suffrage historians whom I have come to know over the years and whose work continues to inspire me. Corinne Field, Lisa Tetrault, and Cathleen Cahill have read various drafts, asked probing questions, steered me to new sources, and sharpened my thinking.
My research has been enriched by feedback from colleagues, visiting scholars, and students at Miami University (MU), especially through MU Humanities Center programs. Special thanks to Tim Melley and John Altman. My departmental colleagues in American Studies and History have been very supportive, particularly Jana Braziel, Walt Vanderbush, Wietse de Boer, Cathie Isaacs, and Shawn Vanness. Sheila Sparks in interlibrary loan and Jenny Presnell, humanities librarian, have also provided invaluable assistance.
Together with a faculty improvement leave from Miami University, a Public Scholar Award from the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) supported the extended research leave that enabled me to finish this book in time for the 2020 suffrage centennial. (Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this publication do not necessarily reflect those of the National Endowment for the Humanities.) I also received vital research funding from the 2017 Carrie Chapman Catt Prize for Research on Women and Politics, the MU History Department, and an MU Committee on Faculty Research Summer Research Grant.
I am grateful for many opportunities to share Gardener’s life with audiences outside of academia through invited talks and as part of the Ohio Humanities Council Speakers Bureau. My thinking has been shaped by these discussions and by the chasm between what historians know about women’s lives and the ways women are presented (or not) in our shared national narratives.
This project required visits both to archives and to places. Over the past several years, I have traveled to all the towns Gardener lived (with the exception of Dardenne, Missouri) to get a feel for her movements and surroundings. These have been my favorite research trips because I have met so many kind people and seen so many beautiful places.
Special thanks to Tom and Ronda Heckel and Sue Chenoweth for so warmly welcoming me to the Chenoweth Family Reunion in Elkins, West Virginia. Jon Egge, who helps coordinate the Chenoweth family website, answered many questions, shared genealogical research, and put me in touch with other Chenoweths. I was thrilled and honored to meet Gardener’s closest living descendant, Helen Pate—the granddaughter of Helen Gardener Crane and Barnum Colton—who generously shared an afternoon and several Gardener artifacts with me.
At the Berkeley County (WV) Historical Society, Todd Funkhouser’s and Howard Butts’s encyclopedic knowledge of the
area and its people helped me put the Chenoweths in perspective. In Winchester, Virginia, I took advantage of the wonderful resource that is the Stewart Bell, Jr. Archives Room at the Handley Regional Library. Of the many librarians and local history experts who have helped me trace Gardener, Margaret Hotchner at the Harrisonburg-Rockingham Historical Society deserves special praise for helping me better understand the Peales and Keezells.
Thanks also to the staff at the Putnam County (IN) Probate Court records office. Diana Brumfield went above and beyond the call of duty to help me in the Genealogy Room of the Putnam County Library, and Larry Tippin, Putnam County historian, steered me to sources that illuminated the history of Greencastle. Wesley W. Wilson, Coordinator of Archives & Special Collections at the DePauw University Archives, shared numerous sources related to Reverend Chenoweth, his sons who attended Asbury, and family friend John Clark Ridpath.
While I have lived in Cincinnati since 2007, I did not previously know much about the history of the city. For teaching me about the Queen City in the 1870s, I am grateful to Anne Delano Steinert and the staff and resources at the Joseph S. Stern, Jr. Cincinnati Room, Cincinnati Public Library. Two librarians at the Cincinnati Public Library offered vital assistance at the early stages of this project. Jeanne Strauss–De Groote acquainted me with the library’s local history holdings and put me in touch with genealogical whiz Amy Gresham, who helped me find news reports of Gardener’s affair with Smart.
Of the many excellent public libraries this project has given me occasion to visit, the Sandusky (Ohio) Library ranks near the top. Dorene Paul helped me understand Sandusky in the 1870s and alerted me to the photo of Selden Day that appears in this book. Ron Davidson, Special Collections Librarian, enthusiastically answered many questions and provided feedback on the Sandusky section.
An added bonus of Gardener’s many letters in the Paul Kester Collection was the opportunity to spend time in the Brooke Astor Reading Room of the New York Public Library. Thanks to Cara Dellatte for sharing her expertise and good cheer. Diane Dias De Fazio in the NYPL’s Irma and Paul Milstein Division of Local History steered me to sources about Manhattan at the end of the nineteenth century.
Over many years, everyone in the Library of Congress Manuscript Reading Room has shared valuable knowledge and time, but Bruce Kirby deserves special praise for going out of his way to help me locate sources and for his enthusiasm for this project. Thanks also to Michelle Krowl, Janice Ruth, and Elizabeth Novara, who provided critical advice. Likewise, nearly every staff member at the Schlesinger Library, Radcliffe Institute, has aided this project in some way. It would have been impossible to write this book without the holdings and the expertise of staff at the SLRI. Ellen Shea and Diana Carey merit special mention and thanks.
Thanks to Katherine Crowe, Gina Rappaport, and Carrie Beauchamp at the Smithsonian’s National Anthropological Archives for granting access to Gardener’s many photos and for allowing me to view the objects—including her prized Japanese lacquer—that she donated. Lisa Kathleen Graddy, curator of political history at the National Museum of American History, kindly shared the files regarding the NAWSA exhibit. Tim Devoogd and Pamela Cunningham, in Cornell’s Psychology Department, allowed access to Gardener’s brain. Joel Klein, at the Huntington Library, scanned Edward Spitzka’s newly received papers for mentions of Gardener, and Jocelyn Wilk, Columbia University Associate Archivist, helped me figure out what Gardener may have studied at Columbia. A very memorable archival trip involved going to the tippy top of the Suffolk County (MA) Courthouse to view the records of the Jones vs. Arena case. Many thanks to Elizabeth Bouvier, head of Archives, Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court, for facilitating that request. Thanks also to Roderick Bradford, current editor of The Truth Seeker, for alerting me to the digitized editions of this valuable resource.
The people who live in the houses where Gardener once resided—in Sandusky, on 82nd Street in Manhattan, and at 1838 Lamont Street in Washington—have been unbelievably generous in opening up their homes to me: Ezell and Sharon Smith, George Beane, Louis Eby, Matthew Hall, Francesca, and Arthur. Thank you all.
Valuable research for various aspects of this project was completed by Brooks Tucker Swett, Sheila Dean, Chris Calcia, and two undergraduate associates at Miami University—Kate Ely and Heather Burich. Eric Adler provided professional genealogical assistance.
Of the many people who helped this book go from proposal to a bound copy, Natalie Dykstra and Stacy Cordery merit special mention for their guidance and for providing encouragement when I needed it most. Once I had the proposal (almost) in order, Geri Thoma at Writers House agreed to take me on. Her sage advice and enthusiasm has made all the difference. For steering this project from proposal to book, I thank Geri, Andrea Morrison, and the team at Writers House. Working with Alane Salierno Mason at W. W. Norton is a dream come true. Eternal thanks to Alane for seeing the potential in this project, for her insightful editorial advice, and for so willingly answering my myriad questions—big and small, day and night—along the way. It has also been a joy to work with William Willis, Mo Crist, and everyone at Norton.
Heartfelt thanks to the many friends who have hosted me, indulged me, and supported me, especially Maggie Dickenson, Kinda Serafi, Aine Zimmerman, Vera Soper, Kimberly Jones, Kerith Spicknall (and the Dr. Moms), Kristen Folzenlogen, Mary Frederickson, Elisabeth Horany Carrell, Amanda Diekman, Michael Link, Monica Schneider, and my tennis friends, including Jen Vatter and Laura Micciche.
Words cannot adequately express my gratitude to my parents, Ray and Kay Hamlin, who enthusiastically receive my daily calls and text updates, who have provided childcare for many trips, who have read and offered feedback on the entire manuscript, and whose unconditional love has enabled me to pursue my dreams.
My two children, Ruby and Elias, have grown up with this project and do not remember a time before it. They have sustained me at all times with their presence, love, and humor. My husband, Michael Christner, has supported me in this and all my endeavors, even when it means many trips and late nights. I thank my family from the bottom of my heart for their patience, love, and encouragement over the course of this project and always.
Finally, I want to thank Helen Hamilton Gardener for living such a bold and interesting life and for sharing it with me these past several years.
A Note on Sources
THE ARTHUR AND ELIZABETH SCHLESINGER LIBRARY on the History of Women in America, Radcliffe Institute, Harvard University (SLRI) holds three separate collections of Helen Hamilton Gardener’s papers. Her letters to Edward Spitzka are in Helen H. Gardener Papers, 1902–1909, A/G218b; some of her suffrage correspondence can be found in the Helen Hamilton Gardener Papers within the Woman’s Rights Collection (WRC); and her 1907 diary, will, and other personal papers are cataloged as Helen Hamilton Gardener Papers. The correspondence between the SLRI and Gardener’s heirs regarding her personal papers can be found in her accession file, RG XVIII, Series 2.1, box 23, SLRI. Another terrific source at the Schlesinger has been Rena B. Smith’s unpublished biography of Gardener, which is in the Edna Lamprey Stantial Collection.
The National Anthropological Archives (NAA) at the Smithsonian Institution holds the nearly 2,600 photographs and lantern slides Gardener took on her world travels. Lot 98 contains the 1,500 lantern slides (along with notecards from her “Ourselves and Other People” lecture series); lot 97 contains more than 1,000 additional images. Many of these are viewable online through the NAA website.
Besides Gardener’s own papers and photographs, the most important sources for this book came from Woodrow Wilson’s papers and Adelaide Johnson’s papers, both held at the Manuscript Division, Library of Congress (LOC). Wilson’s correspondence regarding suffrage and with suffragists was mostly—but not entirely—archived as Case File 89, which corresponds to series 4, boxes 112–116 and microfilm reels 209–210. There are related Gardener materials in the papers of Edith Wilson, Joseph Tumulty, Rudolph Forster, and Wilson’s biogra
pher Ray Stannard Baker, all housed at the Library of Congress. I also searched the collections of all the members of Congress with whom Gardener corresponded. The most revealing of these letters are in the John Sharp Williams papers, chronological correspondence folders, at the Library of Congress.
There is extensive material regarding Gardener in the National American Woman Suffrage Association (NAWSA) Collection, including a few folders specifically on Gardener, chronological folders, and the records of the NAWSA Congressional Committee. These materials are housed at the Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, and also available via microfilm, as are the papers of the National Woman’s Party, which detail Gardener’s involvement in the 1913 suffrage procession. The papers of individual suffrage leaders contain some Gardener correspondence and references, especially the papers of Maud Wood Park (Library of Congress and SLRI) and Carrie Chapman Catt (Manuscripts and Archives Division, New York Public Library, NYPL). There are also several personal letters from Gardener to Paul Kester, Selden Day’s cousin, in Kester’s papers at the NYPL. When I found more than one copy of a letter, citations are to the original.
In addition to manuscript collections, I learned a great deal about Gardener from her voluminous writing—seven books and countless essays. Her books are readily accessible in many university libraries, and her articles can be found in digitized databases or through interlibrary loan. She contributed dozens of essays to (and was regularly profiled in) freethought and reform publications, especially The Arena, Free Thought, and The Truth Seeker, which have all been digitized and made available online courtesy of the International Association for the Preservation of Spiritualist and Occult Periodicals. Free Thought is also available via microfilm at the Library of Congress and in hard copy at the New York Public Library.
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