Lou’s View – April 3, 2014
The Stone Infantryman
by Lou Bernard
A year or so ago, I got a column out of an article I saw in the Clinton County Times. Someone had interviewed the stone sailor statue on the monument, and written a story anonymously. For which I did not blame them—If I’d interviewed a statue, I’d pretty much have to write it up anonymously.
The sailor mostly gave his story of the recent flood, and what he’d seen—This was back when the monument was in present-day Triangle Park, instead of its current location. He got through the flood easily enough, though he did express his wish that he’d been the guy on top, who was far above the rising waters.
Imagine my surprise when I checked out the microfilm of the Clinton County Times, August 13, 1915, and discovered another article about an interview with the same monument. Somebody interviewed the monument four times. I was shocked to realize there was a whole series of these things—As I looked, the statues were popping up with their opinions on local politics, weather, and all sorts of stuff.
This one was about the Infantryman.
Now, remember, this comes from a whole series of articles, written for the local newspaper, about the interviews and opinions of statues. So don’t expect it to make a whole ton of sense from this point on, okay? I’ll do what I can here, but when the basic premise sounds like the writer started drinking at noon, it’s not going to get any more sensible.
It began, believe it or not, with the women’s suffrage movement. In 1915, women were fighting for the right to vote, and the debate was heating up. A demonstration was held sometime in early August, somewhere along Main Street. I wasn’t able to find much detail about it in the papers of the time, aside form one Clinton County Times editorial, sensitively headlined,”Are The Suffs Crazy?”
One of the witnesses to this demonstration, apparently, was the Infantryman. He opined,”You can take it from the Infantryman, fellows, that this women’s suffrage movement has shot its big gun in Lock Haven and if I don’t miss my guess it was nothing more than a squib and had no more effect on the voters than a scattering load of bird shot would have against a German fort.”
It’s safe to say the Infantryman was not a big fan of giving women the right to vote. He seems to have been kind of a sexist jerk in those days, actually. (I walked over to ask if he’s changed his views, but he wasn’t saying.) He went on to explain that women probably didn’t really want the right to vote, anyway, as they had enough on their minds.
“And take it from me,” he said,”Not many men who have a mother, who was a real mother, will vote to put any heavier burden on her shoulder than she has to bear.” Here, the Infantryman goes on for several paragraphs about what it takes to be a mother, apparently going from his long experience as an inanimate male. He concluded with,”Do you think they want to trouble themselves with suffrage? Not on your tin type.”
Why, exactly, a stone statue of a Civil War soldier should be so concerned with women voting was never fully explained. As the column went on, he got fairly insulting, which apparently you can do if you’re carved from granite. “Do you notice most of the women who are for suffrage are old maids and women who are practically the man of the house? And I opine the whole kettle of fish are seeking more for notoriety than they are for a chance to vote.”
He watched the protest from his perch on the monument, apparently, and declared that not too many women had attended, anyway. “If there had been a sufficient number of people present at the gathering the other night, I’d have expressed myself,” he said. Big words from a stone guy.
The monument has, since then, been moved. Now it stands at the corner of Bellefonte Avenue and Church Street. Which is actually right down the street from the fire hall where the Fourth Ward goes to vote, these days. Ladies, this coming election, before you go in to vote, turn northeast and give the Infantryman a big wave.
