The San Francisco call, May 03, 1897
DON’T TREAD ON HIS COAT TAILS
The Hindoo Brahmacharin Considers It a Grave Discourtesy.
He Gives His Version of the Rumpus at the Woman’s Congress.
Mrs. John F. Swift Says the Man Is a Lunatic and Is Sorry That He Came.
In future, should you chance to come into contact with a Brahmin, don’t pass up close to his back, or touch, or brush whatever he wears. He’ll resent it, as you do.
It was just such a trifle as this that caused the big row and that dreadful scene at the Woman’s Congress last Saturday night. At least, the Hindoo Brahmacharin, who claims he was greatly insulted by the women in congress, says that was the cause of it, and he certainly must have had some reason—whether imaginary or otherwise—for rising up in his robes that night and making the atmosphere of the Golden Gate Hall blue with his almost hysterical denunciation of the whole show.
So keep your hands off his clothes if you would keep out of trouble.
The ladies who have been in the foreground of the congress just closed—that is, the ladies who assumed the management, are very much shocked and grieved in a smiling away over the affair of Saturday night which came so near terminating their meeting in a riot. And the Brahmacharin, too, is still indignant, for he is unable to see yet why he should have been subjected to discourtesy, particularly as he is a stranger in our City and unaccustomed to our ways and manners. While regretting the incident, he still continues to the belief that an apology is due him, and the ladies, on the other hand say that the name of his Hindoo priest will be expunged from their record and denied the privilege of going down into history as a participant in their congress unless he squares himself in some emphatic and abject manner.
In searching for an explanation of that big rumpus one will find two versions, and as distinct as day from night. When the Brahmacharin delivered himself his “roast” on the congress Saturday, he simply vouchsafed that he had been insulted and wished to resent it. he went no further. Some people wondered what had riled him, and others who knew held their peace.
But yesterday everybody was willing to talk, and did so. The Hindoo had completely recovered from his fervor, but was none the less positive that he was right in what he did.
“In some respects I am sorry that it happened,” he said last evening, after his return from Palo Alto, where he had been lecturing to the Stanford students.
“But again I am not. The leaders who had the congress in charge have only themselves to blame for the scene/ I did not wish to come here in the first place, but they coaxed me. I was sojourning in Los Angeles, and they wrote me letters telling me how delighted they would be to have me come and tell them something about Oriental philosophy.”
“I permitted myself to believe that they were serious– that they really wished to be enlightened and instructed– and I came. I have found, however, that I was only called to talk to a lot of society folks who neither listen nor think, and I am sorry that I came.”
“But I will tell you how it happened. I was specially invited to be present last Thursday afternoon because a paper on ‘Heredity” was to be read by Mrs. Helen Gardener, and I was supposed to reply to it. I did reply and that is what caused all the trouble. Mrs. Gardener’s theories were diametrically opposed to mine on the subject and I supposed I would be allowed the right to say so."
“Well, I got up, and talked, and what was the result?”
“Why, despite my earnestness– because i was saying what I had been taught to believe– a lot of them began to snicker in my face, and I could hear whispered comments all around me.”
“I was speaking of our reincarnation belief and our opposition to heredity, when one of those women began to deliberately jerk my gown from behind, doubtless meaning that I should desist. Such an insult I never had thrust upon me before in my life, and I hope I never shall again. Why if they wanted me to stop talking, why did they not say so, instead of exhibiting such discourtesy? But at all events I kept my temper and had my say. I was resolved, however, to tell them something before that congress was over.”
“My opportunity came Saturday night. I was down on the programme to read a paper, and when my turn came I simply arose and said I would read no paper and explained why I would not. I was perfectly cool and calm and had no idea of raising a disturbance. In fact I did not. It was they who did it all. I simply told them that I had been treated discourteously– I said nothing about their having stepped upon the head of a rattlesnake– and then everybody went mad.”
“I do not recede one inch from my position. I was their guest, and had a right to expect at least decent treatment. I did not expect them to believe in my philosophy, but they certainly should have been ladies enough to listen to me, even though I was opposing one of their pet theories.”
The Brahmacharin would have said more for he was in the humor, but the interview was necessarily cut short because he was compelled to hurry away to Native Sons’ Hall, where he was scheduled to deliver a lecture.
Then the other side. The ladies assert stoutly that the Hindoo’s grievance is all imaginary, Nobody pulled his robe, nobody attempted to jam him into a chair, or choke off his speech, and everybody, they say, listened to him patiently even though he was abusing them and everything that they held dear as regards Christian belief. In short, they declare that they were too lenient with him, and are sorry now that they invited him to the congress at all.
“Why, that man’s a lunatic– nothing short of the word will express it.”
That’s the way Mrs. John F. Swift put it when seen yesterday. Mrs. Swift was the presiding officer of the late lamented congress.
“The way he carried on at our closing session was something disgraceful,” she continued, “and it would not have been tolerated anywhere else in the world except at a Woman’s Congress. Had he attempted to do anything of the kind at the Pure Food Congress or any meeting composed of men he would have been unceremoniously thrown out into the street on his head. By a special dispensation of our rules we remitted this Hindoo to speak after Mrs. Gardener had read her very excellent paper on ‘Heredity.’ The time allotted for these discussions i ten minutes for everybody, the average rule being that each person consume about three minutes. But what did this man do? Why, he talked for thirty minutes, and such a tirade of abuse I never heard before. But we sat it out, and I am in a position to say that not one word of insuilt or discourtesy was offered him.
“Did anybody jerk his robe? I say no; emphatically no. The Brahmacharin stood right by my side all the time he was speaking and could have readily seen anybody who came hear him, and nobody did. IT is barely possible that some of the ladies in passing to and fro on the platform might have brushed against him with their skirts, but I doubt even that.
“I Know that nobody pulled his coattails. If any insults were handed out he was the donor. He insulted everybody in the congress. If he attempts to attend our meeting tonight he will be thrown out.”
But the Brahmacharin did not attend the meeting last night, so there was no opportunity to see Mrs. Swift’s threat carried out.