The Suffragette

  Meanwhile very great interest had been aroused in the attempt of the Suffragettes to force the Prime Minister to receive them by Constitutional means. There was keen discussion as to what would happen and, when the fateful Tuesday came, vast throngs of people, greater perhaps than at any other demonstration, lined the streets in the neighbourhood of Parliament. In the House of Commons itself there was a strong feeling that the deputation should be received and this was expressed at question time by many Members. Mr. Keir Hardie asked the Speaker whether it was by his instructions that a deputation of eight or nine ladies was to be prohibited from entering the House, but Mr. Speaker replied that this was the first he had heard of it and that he had issued no instructions. When the same question was put to the Home Secretary he also answered, “I gave no instructions,” and declared that it was the police who had the responsibility of keeping the approaches of the House open. Mr. Hugh Law asked leave to move the adjournment of the House on a matter of urgent public importance, namely, the refusal of the Prime Minister to receive the deputation and the consequent grave and immediate danger to the public peace, but the Speaker refused, saying that the question had been before the House for at least two years. Mr. Keir Hardie then asked if the Home Secretary would give instructions that so long as the deputation was orderly it should be admitted to St. Stephen’s but Mr. Gladstone refused to accept responsibility, saying, “I cannot say what action will be right or wrong for the police to take.”

  Christabel waving to the hunger strikers from a house overlooking the prison, July, 1909

  At half past seven the Women’s Parliament met and a Petition to the Prime Minister having been adopted Mrs. Pankhurst, Mrs. Saul Solomon of South Africa, Miss Neligan who from 1874 to 1901 had been head mistress of the Croydon Girls’ School and was now 76, and five other women were duly appointed to present it straightway. Then Miss Vera Holme was dispatched on horseback with an advance letter announcing that the deputation was about to appear. With all possible speed she rode on, forging her way through the masses of people, until, close to the House itself, she was met by a body of mounted police, who demanded her business. She handed the letter for Mr. Asquith to the Inspector but he merely flung it on the ground where it was lost to sight amongst the crowd.1

  Meanwhile the little deputation of eight women were preparing to leave the Caxton Hall and the Women’s Drum and Fife Band ranged up the steps was playing out to them the Marseillaise. The shrill, shrill notes of the fife, were a call to battle, the heart beat quicker in unison with that drumming and the breath came hard and short. On the deputation went whilst the cheers of their comrades mingled with the deeper answering cheer of the crowd outside. On they went up Victoria Street and all the way from the masses who watched them was heard no single cry against them, nothing but one great cheer. They pressed on, first Mrs. Pankhurst in her light coat, then the two little old ladies and the other women following behind, but just at the corner of St. Margaret’s Church a long line of police on horse and foot blocked the road. For a moment there was a strange pause and the crowd was hushed. Then the police lines opened and the deputation passed through to the clear space around the House. The crowd cheered and they were lost to sight.

  Everyone believed that the women were to be received. But St. Stephen’s was closely guarded by police and, as the deputation reached it, Chief Inspector Scantlebury stepped forward and handed a letter to Mrs. Pankhurst. She opened it and read aloud: “The Prime Minister, for the reasons which he has already given in a written reply to their request, regrets that he is unable to receive the proposed deputation.” Then she let the missive fall to the ground and said, “I stand upon my right as a subject of the King to petition the Prime Minister. I am firmly resolved to stand here until I am received,” but, even whilst she was speaking, Inspector Scantlebury turned away — he would not wait to hear her statement. She called to him to stay and pleaded with the bystanders, Members of Parliament and others, to bring him back to listen but he disappeared through the door of the Stranger’s Entrance.

  Then Mrs. Pankhurst turned to Inspector Jarvis, appealing to him, or to anyone, to take her message to the Prime Minister, but she was merely told to go away. “I absolutely refuse,” she said, and the other ladies chimed in, “We absolutely support Miss Pankhurst.” At that, whilst the rows of Members of Parliament policemen and newspaper reporters looked on with interest, Inspector Jarvis seized Mrs. Pankhurst by the arm and began to push her away.

  There was no hope now that the deputation would be received and she well knew that if the women persisted in their demand to enter the House they would be arrested in the end. For the sake of their cause neither she nor they could ever consent voluntarily to retrace their steps. They must refuse to go and when, as they would be, they were forced rudely back, they must return again and again until they could do so no longer because they had been placed under arrest. This would mean a hard and a long struggle, for the police would first try every other means to overcome them. She knew that in a moment the violence would begin and that the frail old ladies behind her would he hustled and jostled and thrust ignominiously aside. And so, not for herself, for she had borne this sort of thing before, but to save these older women from ill-usage, she committed a technical assault on Inspector Jarvis, striking him lightly on the cheek with her open hand. As she did so, he said, “I know why you have done that.” But one blow was not enough for the police began to seize the other women and the pushing and hustling began. Then she said, “Must I do it again?” and Inspector Jarvis answered, “Yes.” At that, she struck him again on the other cheek and he said: “Take them in,” and the eight women were placed under arrest and led away.

  Meanwhile the people outside the police lines had waited patiently until at last the news filtered through that the deputation had not been received. Then suddenly a woman was seen struggling through the crowd bearing the colours. Cheers were raised at the sight and policemen rushed towards her. This was the signal for a general attempt on the part of the Suffragettes to reach the House of Commons and in ever recurring batches of twelve, that only too soon were to be torn asunder, the women bravely but hopelessly pressed on; whilst more than it had ever done before the crowd showed a disposition to help them and to prevent their arrest.

  But Parliament went on as though nothing were happening and when a man in the Central Lobby suddenly shouted, “The women of England are clamouring outside,” he was at once seized by numbers of bystanders and police and bundled through the door. Then tranquillity reigned once more. It turned out that the interrupter was Mr. Lawrence Housman, the well-known writer and artist.

  At nine o’clock a great force of mounted police cleared the Square, beating the people back into Victoria Street, into Parliament Street, across Westminster Bridge or along Millbank. It was a familiar stratagem and, as on so many other similar occasions, Parliament Square was soon a desert. But now a strange thing happened, for little groups of women, six or seven at a time, kept issuing from no one knew where, and making determined rushes for the House. As a matter of fact the W. S. P. U. had hired thirty different offices in the Square for that night and in these offices women lay concealed and dashed out at preconcerted moments.

  Whilst this was happening in the Square other Suffragettes succeeded in carrying out a time-honoured means of showing political contempt by breaking the windows of the official residence of the first Lord of the Admiralty, and of the Home Office, the Privy Council Office and the Treasury Offices in Whitehall. Having gone just after dusk, when the lights are lit in rooms where people are, they chose windows on the ground floor that were still dark. Then to small stones, around which were wrapped petitions, they tied string, and, holding fast to the end of the string, they struck the stones against the windows, and, having thus made holes, dropped them through. So they accomplished their purpose without the risk of injuring anyone. One hundred and eight women were at last taken into custody.

  Long accounts of the affair appea
red in the Press next morning and these were on the whole very much more favourable to the women than any that had gone before, as the following gleanings from some of the papers indicate:

  The record of these attempted raids has been one of remarkable persistency in the face of every possible discouragement from the authorities.— DAILY TELEGRAPH.

  The same paper also published a humorous pen-and-ink drawing of a mounted policeman, four constables and an inspector marching off to prison the tiny figure of Miss Neligan with the inscription, “Seventy-nine years old! Liberal treatment.”

  It is the most successful effort that the militant section of the party have made…. However much one may deplore their methods one cannot overlook their earnestness ; they are out to win.— THE SCOTSMAN.

  Principle and tact alike are wanting in the Asquith administration, otherwise there would have been none of the suffragette scenes in to-day’s police court, and none of the tumult and expense of last night…. No one supposes for a moment that such a large and influential body as the Suffragettes would have been denied a hearing by Mr. Asquith and his colleagues had it possessed voting power.— THE MANCHESTER COURIER.

  It is not likely that any one of the thousands of men and women who saw the Suffragist deputation to Mr. Asquith to the House of Commons on Tuesday night will ever forget the scene, much as he or she may wish to do so. There are some things which photograph themselves indelibly on the sensitive plate of the brain and that was one of them…. — EAST ANGLICAN DAILY TIMES.

  The Prime Minister has shockingly mismanaged the business from the beginning.— YORKSHIRE WEEKLY POST.

  There is some concern among liberals at the Prime Minister’s persistent refusal to receive a deputation from the Suffragists. They doubt if he is wise in showing so unyielding an attitude to them.— MANCHESTER DAILY DESPATCH.

  As the deputation of women had complied with the very letter of the law, the W. S. P. U. determined to prove, if possible, that the Government had broken the law in refusing to allow them to present their petition. Mr. Henle was retained to deal with the legal aspect of the case and he pressed home his contention with so many forceful arguments that when he had finished Mr. Muskett who was conducting the case for the prosecution, asked to be allowed time to prepare an answer.

  When the case was continued on Friday, July 9th, a sensation was created by the discovery that Lord Robert Cecil had been retained to defend the case of Mrs. Haverfield upon which all the others hung. Mr. Muskett now began by suggesting that the women had had no intention of presenting a petition and that the claim that they had gone to the House of Commons in the endeavour to do so was an afterthought, got up for the purposes of the defence. He was soon obliged to abandon this line of attack for the speeches and articles of the leaders, the leaflets published by them and the official letters of the W. S. P. U. to Mr. Asquith, together with the fact that each member of the deputation had carried a copy of the petition, clearly demonstrated the absurdity of this contention. The whole case as to the right of petition and of the way in which that right should be exercised was then discussed, first by Mr. Muskett and then by Lord Robert Cecil. Afterwards Mrs. Pankhurst quietly told her own story of the happenings on June 29th. In conclusion she said to Sir Albert de Rutzen, “I want to say to you here, standing in this dock, that if you deal with us as you have dealt with other women on similar occasions, the same experience will be gone through; we shall refuse to agree to be bound over because we cannot in honour consent to such a course and we shall go to prison to suffer whatever awaits us there, but in future, we shall refuse to conform any longer to the regulations of the prison. There are 108 of us here to-day and just as we have thought it our duty to defy the police in the streets, so, when we get into prison, as we are political prisoners, we shall do our very best to bring back into the twentieth century the treatment of political prisoners which was thought right in the case of William Cobbett and other political offenders of his time.”

  Then looking rather pained and blinking his eyes very nervously, the amiable-looking elderly magistrate proceeded to give his decision. He said that whilst he agreed with Lord Robert Cecil and Mr. Henle that the right of petition clearly belonged to every subject, he yet thought that when the police had refused permission to enter the House, and when the Prime Minister had said that he would not receive the deputation, the women had acted wrongly in refusing to go away. He should therefore fine them £5 and if they refused to pay, should send them to prison for one month in the second division. This punishment should not take immediate effect because he understood that he was desired to “state a case “upon the legal point as to the right of petition, and as he was quite prepared to do this, the matter would be taken to a higher court for further consideration.

  Mrs. Pankhurst then claimed that the charges against every one of her fellow prisoners should be held over until her own case had been finally decided as they all turned on the same point. This was agreed to except in regard to the fourteen women charged with stone-throwing and attempted rescue, who on Monday, July 12th, were tried and sent to prison for periods varying from one month to six weeks.

  And now the evening paper placards were announcing a strange thing that had been taking place in Holloway gaol. Miss Wallace Dunlop, who had gone alone to prison, had set herself to wrest from the government the political treatment which her comrades demanded, and had seized upon a terrible but most powerful means of attaining her object. On arriving in prison on Friday evening, July 2nd, she had at once claimed to be treated as a political offender, and, when this had been denied, she warned the Governor that she should refuse to eat anything until she had gained her point. On Monday morning she put her breakfast aside un-tasted, and addressed a petition to Mr. Gladstone explaining that she had adopted this course as a matter of principle and for the sake of those who might come after. Miss Wallace Dunlop has not the vigour and reserve force that belong to youth and she is of fragile constitution, but she never wavered and went cheerfully on with her terrible task. Every effort was made to break down her resolution. The ordinary prison diet was no longer placed before her, but such dainty food as at other times is not seen in Holloway, and this was left in her cell both day and night in the hope that she would be tempted to eat, but though her table was always covered, she touched nothing. Tuesday was the day on which she felt most hungry, and then, as she says, “I threw a fried fish, four slices of bread, three bananas and a cup of hot milk out of the window “Threats and coaxing alike failed to move her. The doctor, watching her growing weakness with concern, came to feel her pulse many times during the day, but her calm steadfast spirit and gentle gaiety never deserted her. She had always a smile for him. “What are you going to have for dinner to-day?” he would ask, and she would reply, “My determination.” “Indigestible stuff, but tough, no doubt,” he would answer. So Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday passed; by Friday it was clearly realised that she would not change her mind but would carry on her hunger strike even to the gates of death. Hourly she was growing more feeble and so on Friday evening, July 9th, she was set free.

  The fourteen women who had been sentenced on the day of her release and heard the news of what she had done as they were being hurried to gaol decided to follow her example. On reaching Holloway they at once informed the officials that they would refuse to deliver up any of their private property, to undress and to put on the prison clothing, to obey the rule of silence, to perform prison tasks and to eat the prison food and that in every way that was open to them they would protest against the regulations. The Governor agreed for the time being to allow them to retain their own clothing, but told them that when the visiting magistrates next came round they would be charged before them with mutiny. The women then addressed petitions to the Home Secretary, demanding that, in accordance with international custom, they should receive the treatment due to political prisoners, and decided to wait a day or two for a reply before beginning the hunger strike.

  The S
uffragettes had always condemned the inadequate ventilation of the cells which they felt to be exceedingly injurious to the health of every prisoner. On those burning summer days the stifling heat became almost unbearable and after several times appealing that more fresh air should be allowed to them, the women at last determined to break some of the panes.

  On Wednesday morning Christabel and Mrs. Tuke, anxious for news of their comrades, went up to Holloway and obtained admittance to a house opposite the gaol. There from a back window, they called to the prisoners, who eagerly stretched out their arms to them through the broken panes, and in a few shouted words told them of what had taken place. The same afternoon, a committee of visiting magistrates arrived in the prison and sentenced the Suffragettes to from seven to ten days’ close solitary confinement. The women were then all dragged away to the punishment cells. Miss Florence Spong, one of the prisoners, describes her experience thus:

  Entering a dim corridor on either side of which were cells, I was conducted to the last one and the double iron doors were clanged and locked behind me ; the cell damp, icy cold and dark struck terror in me, but the principle for which I was fighting helped me to overcome my fears. In the dim light I discovered a plank bed fixed in one corner of the cell about four inches from the ground, with a wooden pillow at the head. Opposite was a tree stump, clamped to the wall for a seat, and in another corner was a small shelf with a filthy rubber tumbler full of water. High above the bed was a small window and through the tiny panes of opaque glass a faint light filtered. Realising how quickly the light was waning I hurriedly examined my cell. I discovered two pools of water near the head of the bed which never dried up. There was a small square of glass high above the door and through this the light of a tiny gas jet flickered from the corridor outside. This was lit at five o’clock and just enabled me to see the objects in my cell. At eight o’clock three wardresses brought me a mattress and some rugs, and again the doors clanged to and I was alone. I will not speak of that night; I leave it for your imagination. At six the next morning I was told to get up, my mattress and bed clothes were taken from my cell and a tiny bowl of water was brought me to wash in, and that was the only wash I was allowed every twenty-four hours.