The Suffragette

  “It is wrong that there should be such places to-day,” Miss Florence Cooke told the Governor, “they would drive any ordinary prisoner mad,” and she tells us:

  I saw all means of protest had been taken from me except one, and that was to do what Miss Wallace Dunlop had done, to refuse to take any food. The hardest time was the first twenty-four hours. Milk was brought to me which I felt I could have taken very willingly, but I put it from me. Then the wardress brought me in some food. I said to her, “Will you please take that out? “She refused. I therefore took the tin in which the food was and rolled it out of the cell and what was in it went upon the ground.

  The hunger strikers waving to Christabel from their prison cells, July, 1909

  This is important, because Mr. Gladstone afterwards charged the Suffragettes with having thrown food at the wardresses.

  Miss Cooke goes on:

  I was particularly careful in what I did to be polite and I believe all the other Suffragettes were the same. On Friday I took to my bed and the doctor told me that if I persisted I should get a fever, but I was absolutely determined to do my part, at whatever sacrifice, and I told the Governor that so long as I was responsible for my action I should refuse to take food.

  On Sunday night I was removed to the hospital and there a fresh effort was made to get me to take food. Medicine was brought to me, which I absolutely refused, knowing that it was either food in disguise or else intended to aggravate my hunger. On Monday afternoon my head felt exceedingly bad and I hardly knew what I was doing, but I determined that I would not give in. In the evening the Governor came to me and said, “Be very calm.” I said to him, “There is a supreme power which gives us strength to bear whatever comes to us.” He said, “I have orders to release you,” and I said to him, “Does Mr. Gladstone prefer this to doing us justice?”

  The other prisoners all told similar stories, each of which unconsciously displayed the most wonderful heroism. One day Miss Mary Allen fell fainting on the stone floor of her punishment cell and when, weak and numb with cold, she regained consciousness, she sang the Women’s Marseillaise to cheer herself, and to her delight the occupant of the next cell joined in. So, bravely struggling, each of the women won her way out to freedom, having fasted bravely, some for six and a half, others for six, five and a half, or five days.

  Think of the courage of it! To be confined there in semi-darkness when a wrord would procure release. To withstand the terrible pangs of hunger with food always before one’s eyes, distracted by the fever of that unhealthy and fœtid place. To feel oneself growing gradually weaker and weaker, and to know that but a little more, perhaps suddenly, any moment without warning, and the heart will stop. And yet never, never to falter, always to cling on to the word of their faith and the great impersonal ideal. Think of the wonderful courage of it! And after their release it was only with utmost care and cherishing that these dear women were won back to life and in their feeble weariness they felt, even when lying on the softest bed, as though they were stretched upon iron bars.

  There were some generous souls, the Reverend Hugh Chapman of the Royal Chapel of the Savoy and others, who raised their voices in protest, and in appeal to the authorities to withdraw their obstinate opposition to the cause for which the women fought, or at least to extend to them the recognised usages of political warfare. It was shown that even according to the strict letter of the law, the women, their stone-throwing notwithstanding, had an unassailable claim to political treatment. In the case of In-re-Castioni, reported in Pitt Cobbett’s “Leading Cases on International Law,” a Swiss subject named Castioni had been arrested in England at the requisition of the Swiss Government, on a charge of murder. Under the provisions of the Extradition Act of 1870, the prisoner could not be extradited if the offence was of a political character, and the judges unanimously held that even such offences as murder and assassination must be considered political, if committed in the belief that they would promote the political end in view, and as part of, and incidental to, a genuine political agitation, rising, or disturbance.

  But the legal and moral justice of their claim, and the heroic courage of the women, were alike disregarded by the Government, and when, on July 21st, private Members of Parliament pressed Mr. Gladstone to relent, and to do justice to the women political prisoners, he retaliated by asserting that they had both kicked and bitten the wardresses. The charge was indignantly repudiated by every prisoner and after careful enquiry the W. S. P. U. issued a statement denying the accusations. Three days later it was announced by the press that Mr. Gladstone had held an enquiry at the prison, as a result of which he had decided that the allegations of assault against the Suffragette prisoners had been clearly proved. The W. S. P. U. then wrote urging that the case ought not to be judged on one-sided evidence and claiming that the Home Secretary should allow the fourteen Suffragettes, against whom the charges had been made to put their side of the matter before him. Mr. Gladstone merely replied that he had already directed proceedings to be taken against Miss Theresa Garnett and Mrs. Dove-Wilcox, two of the Suffragettes concerned, and that these proceedings would afford full opportunity for them to swear to their version of the facts before the Court.

  On August 4th these trumped-up charges were heard at the North London Police Court. During the whole course of the agitation the Suffragettes had never sought either to conceal or to deny what they had done, or to escape punishment for their actions, and the police had always readily admitted that they could unhesitatingly accept the word of a Suffragette. It is unnecessary, therefore, to give at any length the evidence put forward at the trial of these two women. Their own statements, calmly and carefully given, even the magistrate, although he punished them, certainly believed.

  Miss Theresa Garnett was accused of biting one wardress and striking another. In defending herself against these charges she said:

  On Wednesday, July 14th, wardresses entered my cell and ordered me to come down to see the visiting magistrates. I stopped to pick up my bag2 to bring with me. Immediately the wardresses intervened between me and my bag to prevent me taking it and a scuffle ensued, in the course of which I found myself on my back, and two or three other wardresses came into my cell. In this struggle I did not strike or bite or assault any of the wardresses in any way, but used such force as I was able to put forth in order to regain possession of my property. One of the wardresses tore my dress and it is quite likely that as I took hold of her her dress became torn. I was then conducted to the head of the stairs, and seeing that further attempts to retain my property would be of no avail, I walked quietly down into the magistrates’ room. When I was there the charges of breach of prison discipline were made against me and the matron further charged me with having torn the dress of one of the wardresses whilst I was being brought into the room, but no charge of biting the finger of the wardress was made against me. I was then asked whether I had any apology to make…. I was sentenced to eight days’ solitary confinement and I made no resistance as I was marched away to a punishment cell. Since I learned that this charge was to be brought against me I have been wondering how it could have arisen. I do not believe that the wardresses would purposely fabricate a charge against me. I am led therefore to suppose that this charge rests upon a mistake. You will have noticed, Sir, that no charge of biting the wardress’s finger was preferred against me in the presence of the visiting magistrates, whilst a charge of tearing the wardress’s dress, which occurred at the same time that my other act is alleged to have happened, was reported to them then and there. I can only suppose therefore that this charge was an afterthought and that, finding a wound on her finger, the wardress concluded that it had been produced by a bite. Now, Sir, I have dressed myself to-day exactly in the way in which I was dressed that day in Holloway and you will notice that I am wearing this portcullis brooch on my left side.

  At this Miss Garnett unbuttoned and took off the coat she was wearing and the magistrate rudely said: “I suppose you could bit
e as well in one dress as in another.”

  “I have already told you that my dress was torn,” she went on. “You will see that it is torn close to the brooch. I think it is exceedingly probable that the wardress who tore my dress received a wound in her finger from the brooch I was wearing and this wound would exactly resemble the wound caused by a bite.”

  Miss Garnett now unpinned the portcullis brooch which since April of that year had been presented as a badge of honour to every member of the W. S. P. U. who had suffered imprisonment for the cause, and which, like a genuine portcullis, had five sharp little tooth-like projections at its base.

  “Here is the brooch,” she said, handing it to the the magistrate, “you can look at it for yourself. I have only this to add that if, in spite of the true facts which I have narrated to you, you send me to prison on account of the charges which have been made against me, I shall go there prepared to carry out afresh my protest against the treatment in prison.”

  Mr. Fordham said that evidently there had been a great struggle and that at such times it was difficult to say exactly what had taken place. He believed that the wound had been caused accidentally, though he thought it was more likely that the wardress’s hand had been struck against Miss Garnett’s teeth than that the wound had been caused by the brooch. He therefore dismissed the case, but though Miss Garnett had been acquitted of this charge Mr. Gladstone never retracted the statements which he had made in Parliament as to the Suffragette prisoners having bitten the wardresses.

  As soon as this first case against Miss Garnett had been disposed of, a second charge of striking one of the wardresses was preferred against her. She then said:

  On the day following that on which the visiting magistrates came to Holloway, the wardress entered my cell and ordered me to get up off the bed. I did not do so and she seized hold of the bedding and rolled me on to the floor, injuring my knee. I then said to her, “Is this what you do?” and she said, “It is.” I said to her, “In a civilised country?” and she said, “You are a set of uncivilised women.” I then asked her to leave the cell and she refused to do so, whereon I pushed her without using any unnecessary violence out of the cell. Later in the day she was exceedingly insolent to me in her behaviour and she further reported me to the Governor and I was moved into a more severe punishment cell. I informed the Governor of the manner in which she had treated me and from that time onwards her behaviour was marked by ordinary courtesy.

  Mr. Fordham then sentenced Miss Garnett to a month’s imprisonment in the third division.

  After this two charges were also brought against Mrs. Dove-Wilcox of Bristol, who was accused of having kicked several of the wardresses, both whilst she was being taken from the cell to the visiting magistrates’ room and on the way to the punishment cell afterwards. To the first charge she returned an absolute denial, saying that when summoned to appear before the magistrates she had gone quietly and willingly, and that when she had been charged before them, no attempt had been made to suggest that she had assaulted any of the wardresses. She was sentenced to eight days’ close confinement in a punishment cell, but, as she explained:

  I refused to accept this treatment and said that if they insisted I should have to be dragged away by force. Several wardresses accordingly seized me to take me away. I offered such resistance as I was able to, but was overpowered. Outside the room some of the wardresses commenced to pummel me very severely, inflicting serious bruises upon me and at last I deliberately kicked two of them. I had on a pair of thin house-shoes at the time, because, as you know, we had insisted upon our right to retain our own clothing, so that I could not have hurt either of them very much. They then picked me up and carried me to the cell and on the way treated me very cruelly, twisting my arms, almost throttling me and tearing at my hair with great violence. I remonstrated with them, saying, “You have no right to treat me in this way and I shall complain to the Governor of this cruelty.” They carried me into the cell and threw me roughly onto the wooden bed, taking away my shoes, which they did not return for some time. At first I determined to complain to the Governor and to show him the bruises on my arms, but on consideration I remembered that my quarrel was with the Government and not with the wardresses. I did not wish them to get into trouble. Moreover, I regarded the incident as closed, as I heard nothing of any complaint as to my action. I consider I was perfectly justified in what I did and that anyone with arms pinioned, assaulted as I was, would have taken similar action.

  The magistrate refused to accept Mrs. Dove-Wilcox’s denial of the charge of kicking the wardresses on her way to the visiting magistrates’ room, but said that it was “not of a very serious kind,” and that he would sentence her to pay a fine of 40 shillings or to go to prison for ten days. He also found her guilty of the second charge of kicking the wardresses on being removed from the visiting magistrates’ room, and sentenced her to pay a further 40 shillings or to go to prison for ten days. If she suffered imprisonment, the two terms were to run concurrently, that is to say, she would serve ten days in all. As she had already stated that she would not pay any fine, this was tantamount to punishing her for one of the charges only.

  The two women were still weak from their first hunger strike, but they determined to again make the same stand. On their arrival at Holloway, the officials forcibly stripped their clothes from their backs, flung the prison garments upon them, and forced them into the punishment cells, where, in spite of the continual faintness from which they suffered, they steadfastly refused all food until Saturday, August 7th, the third day of their imprisonment, when the order of release was brought.

  * * *

  1 It was afterwards brought back to Clement’s Inn by a stranger who found it still unopened.

  2 In this bag Miss Garnett had a change of clothing and other necessaries and she realised that if this were taken from her, her determination not to wear the prison garments would be frustrated.

  CHAPTER XXI

  JULY TO SEPTEMBER, 1909

  MR. LLOYD GEORGE AT LIME HOUSE; TWELVE WOMEN SENT TO PRISON; ANOTHER STRIKE. HUNGER STRIKERS IN EXETER GAOL. THE SCENES AT CANFORD PARK AND RUSHPOOL HALL. MRS. LEIGH ON THE ROOF AT LIVERPOOL; LIVERPOOL HUNGER STRIKERS. MANCHESTER HUNGER STRIKERS; LEICESTER HUNGER STRIKERS; DUNDEE HUNGER STRIKERS. THE CLEVELAND BY-ELECTION.

  THE vindictive attitude of the Government and the sufferings and heroism of the women in prison, spurred on their comrades outside to deeds of renewed bravery and daring. Everywhere vast throngs of people supported the Suffragettes in their protests and no precautions, however great, or barricades, however high and strong, could keep the women’s voices out. “Shame on you, Mr. Asquith,” they cried, as he was unveiling a statue in the Embankment Gardens. “Shame on you for putting women in dark cells instead of treating them as political prisoners. Why don’t you give us the vote and end it?” “Ladies and gentlemen,” thoughtlessly began Mr. Gladstone at a Reading meeting from which all women had been excluded, and when there were shouts of, “Where are they?” he answered, “Not far off, anyway.” He was right, for soon their speeches, delivered at a meeting In the street outside, were to be heard within, competing dangerously with his own.

  When, on July 15th, Mr. Lewis Harcourt was speaking at the Co-operative Hall, Leigh, Lancashire, the Suffragettes rushed towards the doors. Thousands of people cheered them on, crying: “We will help you to get inside,” and though the police arrested Miss Florence Clarkson of Manchester, Mrs. Baines and three other women, all but the first were rescued by the crowd.

  On July 17th, Adela Pankhurst held a great meeting outside Mr. Winston Churchill’s meeting in Edinburgh and afterwards, amid the enthusiastic plaudits of the crowd, she and Bessie Brand1 made a dash for the doors, followed and supported by hundreds of men and women. They were arrested by detectives in plain clothes and taken to the police station, whilst cheering men raised their hats and women waved their scarves and handkerchiefs. A second charge led by Miss Eckford of Edinburgh was beaten back
by mounted police, and when Mr. Churchill emerged he was greeted with a storm of groans. Those who had been arrested were released after the meeting.

  Numbers of men, most of them members of the Men’s Political Union, were now also coming forward to demand justice for women at the meetings from which the women were excluded. If they had gone there to heckle Cabinet Ministers on any other question nothing very much would have happened, but now most terrible violence was turned upon them.

  At Mr. Herbert Samuel’s meeting in the Corn Exchange, Bedford, on the 22nd July, four men undertook to make the protest. At the first sound of the word “Women” two whole rows of seats were overturned, and the interrupter was immediately rushed out, whilst Mr. Samuel remarked with a sneer that he was interested to meet “a Suffragist of the male persuasion,” but that he suspected the interrupter of being a “Conservative hireling.” A second man rose up and cried: “I am a Liberal and I protest,” but the stewards at once set upon him and he was thrown through a door at the back of the platform and fell some six or seven feet to the ground floor, where he lay insensible for nearly half an hour; two other men, one of them a retired naval officer, met with a similar fate. At the same time four of the women who were holding a meeting outside the hall, were arrested and kept at the police station until Mr. Samuel had left the town.