ained her with the story
of his life and his travels, an adventure story of a poor boy who had
made good. Building clipper ships, introducing American goods in
Australia, traveling in India, China, and Russia, promoting street
railways in England, and now building the Union Pacific, he had a
wealth of information to impart.

Their views on the Negro differed sharply. Rating the whole race as
inferior and incapable of improvement, he naturally opposed
enfranchising Negroes before women. She, on the other hand, had always
regarded Negroes as her equals, and in campaigning with Train, she had
to make her choice between Negroes and women. She chose women, just as
her abolitionist friends in the East had chosen the Negro; and their
indifference and opposition to woman suffrage at this crucial time was
as unforgivable to her as was his valuation of the Negro to them. They
called him a Copperhead, remembering his southern wife and his hatred
of abolitionists, his vocal resistance to the draft, and his demands
for immediate unconditional peace. They ignored entirely his defense
of the Union in England during the Civil War when he publicly debated
with Englishmen who supported the Confederacy. They abused him in
their newspapers and he, not to be outdone, ridiculed them in his
speeches, shouting, "Where is Wendell Phillips, today? Lost caste
everywhere. Inconsistent in all things, cowardly in this. Where is
Horace Greeley in this Kansas war for liberty? Pitching the woman
suffrage idea out of the Convention and bailing out Jeff Davis. Where
is William Lloyd Garrison? Being patted on the shoulders by his
employers, our enemies abroad, for his faithful work in trying to
destroy our nation. Where is Henry Ward Beecher? Writing a story for
Bonner's Ledger...."[202]

They never forgave him this estimate of them, nor did they forgive
Susan for associating herself with him.

On one of the last days of the Kansas campaign, while she was driving
over the prairie with him, he suddenly asked her why the woman
suffrage people did not have a paper of their own. "Not lack of
brains, but lack of money," she tersely replied.[203]

They talked for a while about the good such a paper would do, about
the people who should edit and write for it, what name it should have.
Then he said simply, "I will give you the money."

Because a woman suffrage paper had been her cherished dream for so
many years, she did not dare regard this as more than a