The Suffragette

  The Magistrate interrupted, “The Chancellor of the Exchequer would have nothing to do with that,” he said. “I believe you are a lawyer?” with a quick change of front, she asked, turning politely to Mr. Lloyd George. “Well, I hope I am,” he answered with a surly air. “Don’t you think the offence alleged against us would be more properly described as ‘Unlawful Assembly’?” “There again, I was not put in the witness box to express an opinion of that sort,” he objected and the Magistrate again supported him. She made another attempt: “You have seen the form of summons against us?” but he protested that he had not and did not know with what offence the prisoners were charged. She explained to him the form of the summons and explained that, owing to this, the defendants were denied the right of trial by jury. He merely replied, “I take it from you, Miss Pankhurst, but I do not know.”

  An awkward question for Mr. Lloyd George was : “Do you think that coercion is the right way of dealing with political disorders ?” He remained silent, and the Magistrate tried to help him out, saying, “It is not for the witness to express an opinion.” Christabel looked full at Mr. Lloyd George, asking, “You refuse to answer?” “I do not refuse to answer,” he said, not very honestly, “but I must obey the decision of the Bench that I cannot express an opinion about things in the witness box.” “Am I to understand that an answer must not be given to that?” she appealed to the Magistrate. He replied, “No.” “Not even if the witness would like to do it?” “No,” he said, but she tried again. “Well, is it likely to be a successful way of dealing with political disturbances?” But the Magistrate said, “That again, is not admissible.” “But for these restrictions, your Worship — she broke out with some heat, but he waved her aside and she understood that he was implacable, so she turned cheerfully to the witness and said, “Can you tell me whether any interference with public order took place in connexion with previous movements for franchise reform?” “I should have thought that that was an historical fact, Miss Pankhurst,” he replied. Again the Magistrate interposed to save him. “That is cross-examination. The witness cannot go into that.” “In a sense he is my witness,” she said, but though Mr. Curtis Bennett smiled, he replied, “In every sense at present.”

  Nevertheless he had evidently seen the justice of the remark and he did not object when a similar question was now put. It was: “Have we not received encouragement from you, or if not from you, from your colleagues to take action of this kind?” “I should be very much surprised to hear that, Miss Pankhurst.” Mr. George gave his answer pompously. “You deny that we have been encouraged by Liberal statesmen to take action of this kind?” she said eagerly. “I simply express astonishment at the statement,” he said casting up his eyes with an exaggerated, but not very convincing air of indignation. “Have you ever heard these words spoken by us at Trafalgar Square or by any Liberal statesman:

  I am sorry to say that if no instructions had ever been addressed in political crises to the people of this country except to remember to hate violence, to love order, and to exercise patience, the liberties of this country would never have been attained.

  “Have you ever heard those words before?” “I cannot call them to mind.” At this reply there was a sensation in the court, silent, but clearly felt. “Those were the words of William Ewart Gladstone,” said Christabel. “I accept your statement, Miss Pankhurst,” was Mr. Lloyd George’s reply, and when asked whether he was aware that in 1884 Mr. Chamberlain had threatened to march 100,000 men on London, he again replied, “I do not know.”

  Christabel’s next question carried the war further into the enemy’s country. “Is it not a fact that you yourself have set us an example of revolt?” she asked, but Mr. Curtis Bennett interposed to say that the Chancellor need not answer that question, and that she must not attack her own witness. Whilst they were arguing, Mr. Lloyd George himself burst in. “I never incited a crowd to violence,’’ he said hotly, as though this form of defence had only just occurred to him. “Not in the Welsh Grave Yard case?” she asked. “No!” he said. “You did not tell them to break down a wall and disinter a body?” “I gave advice which was found by the Court of Appeal to be sound legal advice,” he said snappishly, and again almost turning his back upon her. “We think that we are giving sound advice too,” she said.

  After this Mr. Lloyd George became less and less ready to give any reply, and his angry eyes were continually calling for the Magistrate’s intervention.

  Miss Pankhurst then cited passages from “Taylor on Evidence,” to show that more latitude could be allowed in questioning a witness who obviously appeared to be hostile or interested for the other party, or unwilling to give evidence, but Mr. Curtis Bennett declared that none of these descriptions could be applied to Mr. Lloyd George. So, with a gesture of protest, Christabel said, “I think I need not trouble him with any further questions.”

  After some questioning by Mrs. Pankhurst to which Mr. Lloyd George returned the scantiest and most surly of replies, Mrs. Drummond said earnestly but with a touch of humour in her voice.

  “I should like to ask Mr. Lloyd George this question; many times he has refused to answer me. When do you intend to put a stop to these things by giving us the vote?” Shrugging his shoulders, Mr. Lloyd George turned to the Magistrate who gave the desired reply: “That is not a question for the witness.” Mrs. Drummond added, after a pause, quietly and reproachfully: “You and your colleagues are much to blame for this agitation.” “You must not make a statement,” said the Magistrate.” “You see, we never get a chance at other times,” said Mrs. Drummond appealingly. At this Mr. George smiled broadly, but not very pleasantly, and shaking his head said, “Indeed you do!” as he left the box.

  Mr. Curtis Bennett now told Christabel that he wished her to call Mr. Herbert Gladstone in order that the Home Secretary might not be detained from his duties in the House unnecessarily but she declared that it was absolutely essential that she should first call one other witness. Mr. Curtis Bennett protested and she said, “I have only one question to put to this lady.” “Very well then, one question,” he said smiling as though he scarcely believed her, and one could plainly see, determining to hold her to her word. Christabel then called “Miss Marie Brackenbury,” who stepped quietly into the box. Christabel gently asked her whether it were true that she had suffered six weeks’ imprisonment in connexion with this agitation and as soon as she had assented said quickly, but in a clear, penetrating voice, “Did Mr. Horace Smith tell you in sentencing you to that term he was doing what he was told?” “You must not put that question!” almost shouted the Magistrate. But the witness had already replied, “He did.” “The witness has said ‘yes,’ upon oath,” said Miss Pankhurst triumphantly turning to the place where the Cabinet Ministers sat. There was a strange stir in the court, those present feeling that belief in the inviolability of British Justice was slipping from their grasp. For a moment or two there was an unpleasant pause and Mr. Curtis Bennett sat flushed and angry.

  Mr. Herbert Gladstone, the Home Secretary, was then called and took his place in the witness box. With his shiny bald forehead, ruddy face, prominent eyes and corpulent figure, he formed not only a striking contrast to his colleague who had just been examined, but was as far removed from the impressive dignity of his own distinguished father. Altogether his general appearance was that which the romantic idealist would associate rather with a comfortable and prosperous shopkeeper than with a Cabinet Minister. As soon as he had been sworn, he placed his elbows on the ledge in front of him and looked smilingly around the court, as much as to say, “Nothing of this kind can disturb me, I intend to enjoy myself.”

  Miss Pankhurst began by endeavouring to fix upon him as Home Secretary the responsibility for the proceedings against herself and her colleagues which he had denied in the House of Commons. She succeeded in forcing him to admit, “I am at the head of the responsible department.” But when she put the questions more plainly, saying, “Did you not, as a matter of fact, i
nstruct the Commissioner of Police to take the present proceedings?” and “Are the Government as a whole responsible for these proceedings?” Mr. Muskett jumped up, in each case, shouting, “I object to that!” and the Magistrate also said that the questions could not be answered.

  They were also determined that no more unpleasant disclosures were to be made, but she would not leave the subject. “Did you instruct Mr. Horace Smith to decide against Miss Brackenbury and to send her to prison for six weeks?” she asked. “You cannot put that question either,” said Mr. Curtis Bennett in a slightly raised tone. “It is a pity that the public interest should suffer on that account,” was her severe reply, and turning to Mr. Gladstone, she said, “Did you offer any instructions to Mr. Horace Smith?” “I object to this; it is contempt of court to continue putting these questions!” indignantly cried Mr. Muskett again springing to his feet, but with a broad sweep of her hand she declared, “The public will answer them.” Then turning to Mr. Gladstone, whose enjoyment of the situation had now entirely vanished, she persisted, “What do you suggest is the meaning of what Mr. Horace Smith has said?” but again the Magistrate intervened.

  She next asked Mr. Gladstone to define the word “rush.” “I can hardly give any definition of it, but a rush implies force,” he said, growing more comfortable again. “Do you deny that it involves speed rather than force?” she asked, and he replied smiling and putting his head knowingly on one side, “Speed generally involves force.” This argument continued for some time. Then she asked: “Were you anticipating that you would be in bodily danger as a consequence of the issue of this Bill?” “I did not think of it at all. I did not think whether the possibility existed or not,” he answered, squaring his shoulders and throwing out his chest. She waved her hand. “You are like us, above these considerations. You were not in fear?” “No, not at all,” he answered, looking pleased with himself. “Did you ever think that public property was in danger as a consequence of this bill having been issued?” “I thought it quite possible,” he said a little more seriously, “I thought there would be danger from the crowds.” “Then you were agreeably disappointed on the morning of the 14th, when you found no harm had been done?” “No, I was not. The police measures were sufficient to stop any serious accident or danger,” he said proudly and magisterially.

  She kept putting questions of this kind, first in one form then in another until he began to grow tired and puzzled, and was evidently in fear of making some unwise admission. “Did you feel that but for the line of police protecting you, the crowd would have rushed upon you and attacked you?” she asked at last with expressive emphasis. “The police were not protecting me,” he answered with an air of offended dignity; “I felt no personal fear.” “Did any other person seem in danger of attack?” “The police gave them very little chance.” “What made you think them a dangerous or hostile crowd?” “Of course, I am quite accustomed to seeing these crowds. I know what has happened before.” “What has happened?” “Disorderly scenes.” Mr. Gladstone was standing up now and looking quite severe. “What harm have they done?” “Very little, as it happened.” “What harm have they attempted to do?” “That is not for me to answer.” “Have they attempted to do more than secure an interview with the Prime Minister?” Mr. Gladstone turned to the Magistrate, who said, “That is not a question for him to answer.”

  “We will go back to the 13th,” she said. “Do you think anyone was obstructed in their passage to the House of Commons?” “I cannot speak for other people.” “You saw no attempt to waylay Members of Parliament or Cabinet Ministers?” Her questions continued thick and fast. He admitted that he had seen no one waylaid or injured and no harm done, but took refuge in the assertion : “There was a great crowd.” “But a crowd assembles when the King goes to open Parliament,” she said. He answered crossly, “Presumably, they were waiting to ‘rush’ the House of Commons,” and added later that he had heard that certain police constables had been injured, and that there had been thirty-seven arrests and over forty complaints of losses of purses and watches. “Comparing that with the net result of a Lord Mayor’s Show crowd or any sort of procession, really less harm resulted?” she asked, but he gave no reply and her questioning as to how many policemen were on duty and what the cost had been to the country were suppressed by Mr. Curtis Bennett.

  Presently Christabel asked, “How do you define a political offence?” Mr. Gladstone leant over the edge of the box and smiled again. “I wish you would give me a good definition,” he said, in friendly confidential tones, “I am often asked that question in the House of Commons.” “Well, with the Magistrate’s permission, I will,” she answered. “A political offence is one committed in connexion with political disturbances and with a political motive.” “I do not think that a sufficient explanation,” he said with a challenging air. “If I am at liberty after this day’s proceedings are over, I shall have pleasure in sending you a fuller account.” Then she asked, “Do you remember that when a deputation of women went to the House of Commons to see the Prime Minister, instead of being allowed to enter, they were arrested?” “I have no immediate recollection of that, only a general recollection,” was the Home Secretary’s reply given with a lofty manner. When the question was put again in a slightly different form, the Magistrate interrupted: “That does not arise on the issue.” “It throws a light on it though,” said Miss Pankhurst. “Please do obey; otherwise I shall have to stop it altogether,” said Mr. Curtis Bennett, and one heard a note of regret in his voice. He evidently enjoyed the discomfort of the Cabinet Ministers and the spectacle of their professing blankest ignorance on well-known points. “I have given you much more licence than I should give Counsel,” he urged.

  “In the action we took on the 13th is it within your knowledge that we were acting on advice given by yourself?” Christabel asked. “I wish you would take my advice,” Mr. Gladstone answered. “We are trying to take it,” she said quietly. “What did you mean when you said that men had used force majeure in demanding the vote?” “If you hand me the speech, I daresay I can tell you.”

  She held out a copy of it towards him but Mr. Curtis Bennett interposed. “How is this material to what Mr. Gladstone saw? You are cross-examining your own witness, Miss Pankhurst, and you must not do that.” “May I not ask any explanation whatsoever as to the counsel given to us? “she asked with a persuasive air. “No, you may not,” the Magistrate replied sternly. “We never have any opportunity. May I ask whether he made certain statements?” Mr. Curtis Bennett smiled and pretended not to notice, and Christabel eagerly turned to Mr. Gladstone, reading from the printed copy of his speech. “Did you say it was impossible not to sympathise with the eagerness and passion which have actuated so many women on this subject?” “Yes,” he replied. “Did you say men had had to struggle for centuries for their political rights?” “Yes.” “Did you say that they had to fight from the time of Cromwell and that for the last 130 years the warfare had been perpetual?” His smile was growing broader and broader. “Yes,” he said. “Did you say that on this question experience showed that predominance of argument alone — and you believed that that had been attained — was not enough to win the political day? Did you say that?” “Yes.” “Did you say that we are in the stage of what is called ‘academic discussion,’ which serves for the ventilation of pious opinions and is accompanied, you admit, by no effective action on the part of the Government, or of political parties or of voters throughout the country?” “Yes.” “Did you say that members of the House of Commons reflect the opinion of the country, not only in regard to the number of people outside, but in regard to the intensity of the feeling in support of a movement, and that the Government must necessarily be a reflex of the party which brought it into being?” “Yes.” “Did you say this: ‘There comes a time when political dynamics are far more important than political arguments?’ You said that?” “Yes.” “And that ‘men had learned this lesson?’” “Yes.” “And that they know the
necessity for ‘demonstrating that force majeure which actuates and arms a Government for effective work’?” “Yes, I think it was a most excellent speech!” he said nodding his head and smiling up at the prisoner evidently regarding the whole affair as a very good joke. The court laughed too, but for a different reason, and the Magistrate raised no objection.

  “I agree with you,” said Christabel, smiling demurely, “Did you say that this was the task before the leaders of this great movement?” “Yes.” “Did you speak of people assembled in tens of thousands in the ’thirties, ’sixties and ’eighties, and do you know that we have done it in Hyde Park, and on Woodhouse Moor and other places?” “Yes.” “Why don’t you give us the vote then?” she said with quick emphasis, and the court laughed again. “Are you aware of the words your distinguished father spoke on the matter?” she continued. “I heard the quotation.” “Do you assent to the proposition he laid down?” “Yes.” “Then you cannot condemn our methods any more,” she said triumphantly. “That is hardly a matter for my opinion,” he said, suddenly remembering that he must preserve his dignity. “It is a very interesting question, though. I need not trouble you further,” she concluded.

  Now Mrs. Pankhurst rose and the witness turned to her quite cheerfully. “I want to ask Mr. Gladstone,” she said, “if he is aware that the consequence of our being ordered to be bound over is that we cannot consent and that we shall go to prison?” “That is a matter of law, and not for the witness,” interposed the Magistrate. “If that happens to us, if we go to prison, I hope that Mr. Gladstone will see that we go as political offenders,” she said, but again the Magistrate intervened. “Do you think we should be likely to break the law if we had the same means of representation as men?” she then asked, and Mr. Gladstone replied with pompous amiability. “I am sure your motive is excellent, but that is a hypothetical question which I cannot answer.”