The Suffragette

  On hearing Mrs. Drummond’s story we at once decided that a demonstration of encouragement to our imprisoned comrades and of protest against their treatment by the authorities, must be held outside the gaol, and on the following Saturday evening a long procession of women, headed by a brass band and a little carriage, in which rode Mrs. Drummond and those of us who were to speak, and a brake filled with ex-prisoners in prison dress, assembled in Kingsway and set off for Holloway gaol. All along the route cheering crowds gathered, and our procession grew as we marched, and when we reached Holloway all the roads that encircle the prison were densely crowded with human beings. We stopped outside the main entrance to hold a meeting, but the masses of people were far too great for our voices to reach them and our horses, startled by the vast crowds which pressed closer and closer, showed signs of becoming restive. Mrs. Drummond therefore led off a cheer for the Suffragette prisoners inside and the crowd raised their voices with her again and again. Then we slowly encircled the prison three times, alternately cheering and singing the Women’s Marseillaise:1

  Arise! Though pain or loss betide,

  Grudge naught of Freedom’s toll,

  For what they loved the martyrs died

  Are we of meaner soul?

  Are we of meaner soul?

  Our comrades greatly daring

  Through prison bars have led the way,

  Who would not follow to the fray,

  Their glorious struggle proudly sharing?

  To Freedom’s Cause till death

  We swear our fealty,

  March on! March on!

  Face to the dawn,

  The dawn of liberty.

  During the ensuing week two batches of our prisoners were released and each one carried out to us further disquieting news. Mrs. Pankhurst, who was still being punished, had been characterised by the authorities as a “dangerous criminal,” and, because she still refused to pledge herself to perpetual silence, a wardress was constantly stationed outside her door to prevent any attempt at communication with her. It was rumoured also that she was very ill and this was confirmed by Mr. Gladstone in reply to questions by Members of Parliament, but my request, either to be allowed to see her for myself, or to send in her own medical attendant to interview her, was denied. Again, on the following Saturday, we marched around the prison but this time accompanied by crowds even greater than before. In the meantime, whilst many questions had been put in the House by Members of Parliament, the Suffragettes who had just been released had paid many visits to the Stranger’s Lobby and eventually Mr. Gladstone agreed that Christabel and Mrs. Pankhurst should be allowed to spend one hour of each day together. At the same time he refused to allow Christabel to write a book upon the Women’s Suffrage question for a firm of London publishers, to be published after her release, though it was well known that Mr. Ginnell during his imprisonment for inciting to cattle driving, had been allowed to write his book entitled Life and Liberty.

  On Saturday, November 19th, thirteen more prisoners were released and we learnt that a fortnight before there had been another so-called “mutiny” in Holloway. Mrs. Leigh had been falsely accused of inciting the other Suffragette prisoners to mutiny, and as a punishment had been deprived of exercise and chapel for three days, and Miss Wallace-Dunlop determined to prove her innocence. Every prisoner has the right to lay a complaint before the Governor, but the application to see him is supposed to be made when the cell doors are first opened at six o’clock in the morning, and he afterwards visits the prisoner when and where he may think fit and usually in her own cell. It was necessary for Miss Wallace-Dunlop’s purpose that he should come to her when all her fellow prisoners were together in order that each might give her testimony. She accordingly chose to make her application during the associated labour which Dr. Mary Gordon, the new lady Inspector, had instituted that summer. So at half past three that afternoon when the Suffragettes with a space of a yard between each other had seated themselves at a number of deal tables in one of the corridors and had settled down to make shirts and mail bags, she asked the wardress in charge to send for the Governor.

  By 5:30, when the time for associated labour was at an end, the Governor had sent no reply and the wardress gave the order, “Return to your cells,” but Miss Wallace-Dunlop gave a counter command: “Do not return to your cells.” There had been no previous understanding between them, but the women sat firm, and when the order to leave was repeated they still did not move, leaving it to their leader to again explain that they would remain where they were until the Governor or his deputy should arrive. The wardress then sharply blew her whistle, whereupon crowds of tall wardresses appeared from all directions and lined the corridor in long rows. Then Miss Wallace-Dunlop rose. Those of us who know her can well imagine the scene. She has one of those faces that, when we recall them to our minds, we always see as though lit up, turned towards a full light that streams upon them, and at the same time illumined from within. The spirit that glows within them is intensely vibrant with sympathy for others, yet though the sadness of others’ sorrow finds instant reflection in them and we know that their hearts throb with the bitter pain of other hearts, a quiet gaiety is habitual to them and we think of them always as brightly and serenely happy; it seems not possible for a shadow to fall across the clear purity of their minds. So we can plainly picture for ourselves her tall, slight, erect figure standing forth, and hear her gentle light-toned voice say to the women: “Set your backs against the wall and all link arms.” Instantly they obeyed and stood where she had told them, looking firm and immovable though the officials outnumbered them by more than ten to one. Then there was silence, and the wardresses made no move. At last steps were heard coming from a long distance — one always hears them away off in Holloway. Gradually they came nearer and nearer until the Governor arrived. Then the Suffragette leader; stepped forward. “We have sent for you,” she said gravely, “because we have a statement to make. One of our comrades has been unjustly punished.” “You know I am always willing to listen to your statements,” the Governor replied, “but I can do nothing to-night unless you return to your cells.” Then, on his promising to enquire into the whole matter, Miss Wallace-Dunlop was satisfied and she and her comrades quietly obeyed.

  But, when the Governor came round the cells next morning, he ordered that every Suffragette who had been present should appear before the visiting magistrates to answer to a charge of mutiny, and on the following day, they were each sentenced to from three to five days’ solitary confinement and the associated labour, about which there had always been more labour than association, as the prisoners were forbidden to communicate, was abandoned altogether. Mrs. Leigh was still deprived both of Chapel and exercise, and the others who had caught an occasional glimpse of her, as she passed to fill her water can, stated that she appeared to be suffering very greatly from this close solitary confinement.

  Again on the next Saturday we marched to Holloway, carrying before us a white banner inscribed with the text of the Women’s Enfranchisement Bill. There we found the police on horse and foot mustered against us a thousand strong, barring the nearest approaches to the prison so that, although we again circled it, it was at so great a distance that only once, through a gap in the surrounding buildings, could we see its walls, and we doubted whether our voices, loud and numerous as they were, could be heard by the prisoners inside.

  * * *

  1 By Miss F. E. M. Macaulay.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  NOVEMBER TO THE END OF 1908

  MRS. BIRRELL AT CITY TEMPLE. MR. LLOYD GEORGE AT ALBERT HALL. RELEASE OF MRS. PANKHURST, CHRISTABEL PANKHURST, AND MRS. LEIGH.

  DURING the autumn whilst Mr. Birrell had been visiting his constituency of North Bristol, Annie Kenney, the centre of whose flourishing West of England organising district, was in that town, had prevailed upon him to receive a women’s deputation. In reply to this deputation Mr. Birrell had said that the Government did not intend to carry the Women’s Enfranchi
sement Bill during that session; that many members of the Cabinet were strongly opposed to the idea of giving the women the vote on any terms; that, in his opinion, the matter was not ripe for settlement, and also that he would not endanger his position in the Cabinet by pressing the question forward. He added that he was in favour of the enfranchisement of rate-paying widows and spinsters on the Municipal basis, but that he disapproved of qualified married women voting and that he would not support a measure to give adult Suffrage to women. This last point was exceedingly interesting. It clearly demonstrated the cynical character of the suggestion, made by Mr. Lloyd George and others, that to give votes to women on the same terms as men was not sufficiently democratic to be supported by a Liberal Government, for here was a Liberal Cabinet Minister declaring opposition to any wider measure.

  On November 12th, Mr. Birrell spoke at the City Temple, the church of Mr. R. J. Campbell, the well-known initiator of the so-called “New Theology.” It was well known that the Suffragettes were present to heckle him, and the chairman tried to deter them by stating that Mr. Birrell had promised to give his “influential support to any measure giving a liberal extension of the franchise to women.” The Suffragettes considered that this meant absolutely nothing at all, and continued to protest as earnestly as they could. The result was a terrible scene of violence, in which large numbers of women were flung out of the church and dragged down the steps. The W. S. P. U. afterwards wrote to Mr. Birrell to ask what his statement had really meant. His answer, given through his Secretary, was simply and solely that he had “nothing to add to the reply which he gave recently to a deputation introduced by Miss Kenney.”

  Meanwhile, though the militant tactics were being condemned as vigorously as ever, sympathy for the militants and a desire for the franchise were rapidly spreading amongst women of all shades of opinion. The Women’s Conservative and Unionist Franchise Society was formed about this time, and the Margate and the Wallasey Women’s Liberal Associations passed Resolutions dissolving themselves until women were enfranchised, whilst the Secretaries and Committee members of other associations resigned their posts on the same ground.

  At this point Mr. Lloyd George wrote to the executive of the Women’s Liberal Federation offering to speak for them on Women’s Suffrage in the Albert Hall. They agreed to his suggestion and it was announced that he would make a Government pronouncement. On this ground the organisers of the meeting approached the Committee of the W. S. P. U., asking that the Chancellor of the Exchequer should not be heckled, but we replied that unless we had an assurance that Mr. Lloyd George’s pronouncement was to contain a Government promise to act, we could not comply with this request. As requests that we would alter our decision continued to pour in, Mrs. Tuke, our Honorary Secretary, wrote to Mr. Lloyd George on November 30th, stating that we would gladly ask our women not to interrupt him if he could assure us that the Government were really prepared to do something for the Suffrage Cause, and that, if he wished, we would pledge ourselves not to divulge his reply until after his speech had been delivered. Mr. George’s only answer was a curt note stating that anything that he had to say in regard to the Government’s attitude would be said in the course of his speech in the Albert Hall.

  There was no hint in the letter of any great Government pronouncement, but indeed everyone knew, the leaders of the Liberal women themselves knew, and in fact had admitted to us, that Mr. Lloyd George had nothing of importance to say. His speech was merely intended to pacify those women who were beginning to falter in their loyalty to the Liberal Party and to take the wind as far as possible out of the Suffragette sails. Mr. Lloyd George was as much responsible as any of his colleagues for the present warfare. His own personal record in regard to the women’s movement was not a good one. Therefore there was absolutely no reason for modifying, in his favour, the rule that all Cabinet Ministers must be heckled. Indeed his coming forward at this juncture to curry favour by offering empty platitudes was felt to be in the nature of adding insult to injury. When, on Saturday, December 5th, the day of the Liberal Women’s meeting arrived, the Albert Hall was girt by an army of mounted police. There was a general feeling of uneasy expectancy and everyone seemed suspicious of what his or her neighbour might be going to do. Bands of men stewards, known by their yellow badges, were massed in the corridors and stationed in groups at the end of every row of seats. Nevertheless, in spite of the fact that these men had been obviously engaged for the forcible ejection of interrupters, in order to protect the promoters of the meeting from subsequent charges of brutality, “Officials’ Orders of the Day” were prominently displayed, in which the stewards were counselled to “do no violence to any person,” and the members of the Women’s Liberal Federation were asked, whatever happened, to “act as though they were soldiers, silent and steady under fire.”

  Lady M’Laren, who presided over the meeting, rose to speak with obvious uneasiness, which was increased, when she suddenly realised that all the women in the front row of the arena, who had suddenly removed their cloaks, were clothed as second division prisoners in dresses of green serge, blue and white check aprons and white caps, all stamped with the broad arrow. For sometime, however, all was quiet and it was not until Mr. Lloyd George had been speaking for some moments, and was proceeding to give various reasons why women were entitled to the franchise, that he was interrupted by a tall, graceful woman in one of the boxes. She declared that all present were agreed as to the justice of the cause and that a Government pledge to take action was alone required. The speaker was Helen Ogston, B.Sc., of St. Andrew’s University, and the daughter of Professor Ogston of Aberdeen. Her words were no sooner uttered than a man in the next box leapt over the barrier and struck her a blow in the chest, whilst several stewards sprang upon her from behind. She protested that she was prepared to leave the hall at once, but the men did not heed her and continued to pummel her in the most savage way. At this the audience were astonished to see her draw a whip from under her cloak and strike at one of her assailants. Immediately afterwards she was knocked down and disappeared.1

  Now the whole hall was in uproar. Mr. Lloyd George strove to continue, weakly protesting that he was in favour of Women’s Suffrage, but, “Then why don’t you do something?” and “Deeds not words! Deeds not words!” came a clear bell-like cry. Again he went on to urge that he really was in favour, but was met by, “Why don’t you resign from a Cabinet that is hostile to women?” “Our women are in prison.” “You run with the hare and hunt with hounds.” Only one woman spoke at one time and each one merely fired a short, sharp, pertinent interjection; but there were many of them, and, more than that, the raising of each woman’s voice was the signal for a wild outburst of fury on the part of the stewards, who sprang upon the interrupter, silenced her by a blow under the chin or an impromptu gag and, after flinging her either to the ground or across the seats, dragged her out head foremost, hitting her again and again. Some members of the audience struck with fists and umbrellas at the women who were being carried past. Others tried to protect them, but the latter were always set upon by the officials and speedily bundled out.

  Even outside in the numerous passages that surround the circular hall the ejectors, some of whom were heard to say that the affair was more amusing to them than a night at the Music Hall, would not allow their captives to escape and still continued to ill-treat them until they had finally flung them down the steps and out of the building. At last Mr. Lloyd George stopped — the scene was becoming too much even for him. He declared that he would rather sit down than be the cause of so much violence. “Yes, do sit down and stop it,” a chorus of distressed voices rose, but after a moment he went on again with the stale old reasons why women should have the vote. “We have known those for forty years,” “We want your message,” still the women’s voices called, and each interruption meant an ejection. “We shall get peace presently by this process of elimination,” he said. “Yes, fling them ruthlessly out,” his own words at Swansea were repeated
, and, “You will never eliminate the Suffragettes from practical politics.” For more than an hour the scene continued. Again and again Lady M’Laren intervened and secured a few moments’ peace for Mr. Lloyd George to make his statement and again and again he himself promised to give the Government message but failed to do so, floundering back instead into a maze of arguments for and against the vote. “If Queen Elizabeth had been alive to-day,” he ventured once, but, “She would have been in Holloway” came the retort, and then the protesting voices broke out afresh. Then at last, after a flight of oratory on the excellence and the importance to women of the measures already introduced by the Liberal Government, the declaration came. It was nothing but Mr. Asquith’s old worn-out promise to introduce a Reform Bill and not to oppose a Women’s Suffrage Amendment to it on certain conditions. The women reminded the Chancellor that the Prime Minister had relegated the introduction of the Reform Bill to “the dim and speculative future,” but he protested that it would be introduced before the Parliament came to an end. He was asked how women were to prove the “demand” for their enfranchisement which was one of the conditions of the promise and his reply was, “as the men showed their desire,” but the women answered: — “Men burnt down buildings, they shed blood,” and, “the Government has ignored our demonstrations.” He was questioned as to the second condition that the Votes for Women amendment must be drafted on “democratic lines,” but though asked again and again “What is democratic?” he vouchsafed no reply and at last the cry, “Where is the message?” broke out once more and a great white banner, with the inscription, “Be honest,” was hung out from one of the boxes.