Therefore, it was with the knowledge born of much experience, that Mrs. Baines now pleaded for the enfranchisement of her sex. Within a few moments a strong force of police came hurrying up and she was roughly dragged down and hustled away. Her place was instantly taken by Mrs. Morrissey of Manchester, whilst the other women linked arms and pressed closely round to form a guard, but after a short hard struggle the police broke through, tore the speaker from the box, and made five arrests. One woman was thrown to the ground and lay unconscious, and Mrs. August Mac-Dougal, an Australian,2 knelt on the ground beside her, raised her head and held a cup of water to her lips. Then a heavy hand was laid upon Mrs. Mac-Dougal’s shoulder and a rough voice ordered her to go, but she remained to attend to the injured woman. For this offence she was arrested, whilst Mrs. Knight, the woman who had been hurt, was removed to Westminster Hospital.
Next day the five women who had been taken into custody were at Westminster Police Court each ordered by Mr. Horace Smith either to pay a fine of twenty shillings or to go to prison for fourteen days, in the first class. They all chose the latter alternative and were taken to the cells. Two days afterwards some of our members attempted to hold a meeting in the Strangers’ Lobby. As a result of this eleven of them were sent off to join their comrades in gaol for fourteen days.
Still the Government refused to withdraw their hostility to votes for women, Parliament remained apathetic, and still the majority of the general public were content to allow things to remain as they were. Therefore we felt that yet another protest must be made before the year 1906 should come to an end, and on December 20th, the eve of Parliament’s rising for the Christmas holidays, Mrs. Drummond, who had now settled in London, organised a third attack upon the House. Whilst her followers were attempting to speak in the Lobby, she succeeded in entering the House unobserved and in making her way by the back passages to within a few yards of the sacred chamber of debate itself. Here she was captured by the police, but she resisted their efforts to remove her with so much spirit that she won the sympathy and admiration of the constables; one of whom was heard to say, “I wish the members of Parliament would come here and do their own dirty work!”
Next day as the evening-paper boys were eagerly crying the news that another five women were gone to join those already in prison and that twenty-one Suffragettes would now be spending Christmas there, Parliament rose for the holidays. As the Members left the House, comrades of the imprisoned women handed each one an envelope inscribed:—“What a woman really wants for a Christmas box,” and within was a small slip of paper bearing the words, “A vote.”
For the first batch of Suffragettes to be released from prison in January, a Christmas dinner was provided by Mr. and Mrs. Pethick Lawrence at the Holborn Restaurant, and for Mrs. Drummond and those of the Suffragettes who were set free later, the first of the public welcome breakfasts, which have since become an institution, was held at Anderton’s Hotel. The released prisoners were able to tell us that Christmas day in Holloway is, except that one goes twice to Chapel, exactly like all the other days of the year and that the Christmas dinner, of which so very much is thought outside, is just the usual one that would naturally fall at any other season to that particular day of the week. But as Mrs. Hillier on their release, said, they went to prison for “a cause that they held dear,” and so, as Mrs. Martha Jones added, they regarded having gone there, “not as a sacrifice, but as an honour.” What they had seen in Holloway had more than ever convinced them of the pressing need that women should be enfranchised. “The stories that I have heard in the Prison hospital,” said Mrs. Baines, “have reached to the bottom of my heart. I have come out with the firm resolve to work on.”
So the year 1906, the first year of the Union’s work in London came to an end. In October, the step of opening a permanent central office had been decided upon and a large general office having a small private room opening out of it was taken in Clement’s Inn, Strand. It seemed a big undertaking at first, but the offices were indispensable. The small room was considered chiefly as Christabel’s office, but all private business was transacted there, whilst the large room was used for general clerical work and as a meeting place. Weekly Monday afternoon and Thursday evening At Homes, were held there and all those who had joined the Union in those early days can remember Mrs. Sparborough making tea and handing round bread and butter and biscuits, and Christabel, with a sheaf of newspaper cuttings in her hand, standing up on one of the chairs to furnish the latest news of the militant campaign and to explain the next move in the plan of action.
On the following February 4th, Mr. Winston Churchill spoke in the Free Trade Hall, Manchester, and he bargained beforehand with the Suffragettes that they should not interrupt him during his speech, on condition that he would answer a question on Women’s Suffrage before he left the platform. At the close of the meeting he accordingly did so by saying definitely that he would not vote for a Bill to enfranchise women on the same terms as men. He added that he greatly regretted that “earnest, goodhearted women should pursue courses which brought them suffering and humiliation,” but “God forbid” that he should “mock” them by concealing his opinion. My sister Adela then rose to ask if he had intended to speak for himself alone, or on behalf of the Government, an exceedingly important point. What followed is best described in the words of an eye witness who wrote at once to Christabel at Clement’s Inn: “Last night’s affair was terrible. It was a wonder someone was not killed. Your sister was thrown down and kicked by several men. The attack was really unprovoked; the stewards had made up their minds to do it before the meeting. Your sister has a black eye, Mrs. Chatterton’s throat was hurt and Miss Gawthorpe would have been seriously handled but that some men came to her rescue.”
Many women who had long felt that there was “something wrong” with the position of their sex, but had not realised that the possession of the Parliamentary franchise could do anything to remove the disabilities both of law and custom from which they suffered, were now being awakened by the much-talked-of militant tactics to a knowledge of what the vote could do for them. Moreover, many who for years had been nominal adherents of the Suffrage movement, now began to feel that if some other women cared so passionately for the cause that they were prepared to throw aside all the usual conventions of good manners and to thrust themselves forward to meet ridicule, scandalous abuse, ill usage and imprisonment, it was surely time that they too should make sacrifices. Their hearts smote them that they had not done more for it in the past. But most of them as yet thought only of bolstering up and stirring to new activity the old National Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies for they still looked upon the militant women as a rather dreadful body of fanatics who could have no notion either of systematic organisation or the prudent laying-out of money. Therefore, though the W. S. P. U. was already growing largely, the N. U. W. S. S. was as yet benefiting most largely from its activities. But times had changed and even the most old-fashioned of the Suffragists were now ready to copy the first non-militant doings of the Suffragettes and, in order to prove that they really wanted the franchise, they too determined to march in procession through the London streets. Therefore on February 9th, 1907, three days before the opening of Parliament, a crowd of the non-militants assembled close to the Achilles statue at Hyde Park Corner. It was a dismal wet Saturday afternoon, but in spite of the rain and the muddy streets a procession of women half a mile in length was formed and marched steadily on to attend meetings in Exeter Hall in the Strand and in Trafalgar Square. This procession was afterwards known as the “Mud March.”
At the Exeter Hall the principal speakers who had been chosen to address the gathering of women were Mr. Keir Hardie and Mr. Israel Zangwill. Mr. Hardie devoted himself to urging the women to place the question of their enfranchisement before all other party considerations. Meanwhile a most extraordinary scene occurred, for, whilst his remarks were punctuated by volumes of cheers from the great body of the audience, a number of Libe
ral ladies on the platform set up a hissing chorus.
When Mr. Zangwill came to speak, he, too, declared himself to be a supporter of the militant tactics and the anti-Government policy, and the same Liberal ladies, although they had themselves asked him to speak for them, expressed their dissent and disapproval as audibly as though they had been Suffragettes and he a Cabinet Minister. From Mr. Zangwill’s brilliant speech — his maiden speech as a politician as he said it was — which has since been published under the title “One and One are Two,” I can but quote an extract to conclude this chapter:
What is it that prevents the Prime Minister bringing in a Bill for Female Suffrage at once, in this very Parliament that is opening? He is in favour of it himself, and so is the majority of the House. The bulk of the representatives of the people are pledged to it. Here, then, is a measure which both parties deem necessary. A sensible woman would think that the first thing a Parliament would do would be to pass those measures about which both parties agree. Simple female! That is not man’s way. That is not politics. What is wanted in Parliament is measures about which both parties disagree, and which, in consequence, can never be passed at all. I declare I know nothing outside Swift or W. S. Gilbert to equal the present situation of Women’s Suffrage. … The majority have promised to vote for Women’s Suffrage. But whom have they promised? Women. And women have no votes. Therefore the M.P.’s do not take them seriously. You see the vicious circle. In order for women to get votes they must have votes already. And so the men will bemock and befool them from session to session. Who can wonder if, tired of these gay deceivers, they begin to take the law into their own hands? And public opinion — I warn the Government — public opinion is with the women. … They are unwomanly — and therein consists the martyrdom of the pioneers. They have to lower themselves to the manners of men; they have to be unwomanly in order to promote the cause of womanhood. They have to do the dirty work. Let those lady suffragists who sit by their cosey firesides at least give them admiration and encouragement. “Qui veut la fin, veut les moyens.” And undoubtedly the means are not the most ladylike. Ladylike means are all very well if you are dealing with gentlemen; but you are dealing with politicians. … In politics only force counts, but how is a discredited minority to exercise force? … There is a little loophole. Every now and then the party in power has to venture outside its citadel to contest a by-election. The ladies are waiting. The constituency becomes the arena of battle, and every Government candidate, whether he is for female suffrage or not, is opposed tooth and nail. For every Government — Liberal or Conservative — that refuses to grant Female Suffrage is ipso facto the enemy. The cause is to be greater than mere party. Damage the Government — that is the whole secret. Are these tactics sound? In my opinion, absolutely so. They are not only ladylike, they are constitutional. They are the only legitimate way in which woman can bring direct political pressure upon the Government. … Far better than to put yourself in prison is to keep a man out of Parliament. … What Christianity cannot do, what charity cannot do, what all the thunder of your Carlyles and your Ruskins cannot do, a simple vote does. And so to these myriads of tired women who rise in the raw dawn and troop to their cheerless factories, and who, when the twilight falls, return not to rest but to the labours of a squalid household, to these the thought of Women’s Suffrage, which comes as a sneer to the man about town, comes as a hope and a prayer. Who dares leave that hope unillumined, that prayer unanswered? … For fifty years now woman has stood crying: “I stand for justice — answer, shall I have it?” And the answer has been a mocking “no” or a still more mocking “yes.” With this flabby friendliness, this policy of endless evasion. To-day she cries: “I fight for justice and I answer that I shall have it.”
* * *
1 Speaking at Leicester on January 30th, the Home Secretary, Mr. Herbert Gladstone, was proceeding to extoll the promptitude and care with which, he asserted, the Home Office inquired into alleged cases of miscarriage of justice, when he was interrupted by cries of protest from Annie Kenney and a band of other Suffragettes. Whilst they were being speedily ejected, Mr. Gladstone tried to curry favour with the audience by saying that he particularly regretted what had taken place because his action in regard to the Suffragettes had been to reduce the sentences passed upon them and to ameliorate their prison treatment. As we have seen the change was only made in response to an unmistakable public demand, and after Mr. Gladstone had begun by saying he had no power to effect it.
2 A cultured literary woman, who, with her husband, had recently published two anthologies of music.
CHAPTER VIII
FEBRUARY AND MARCH, 1907
THE FIRST WOMAN’S PARLIAMENT IN THE CAXTON HALL AND THE SENDING OUT OF THE MOUNTED POLICE TO DRIVE AWAY THE WOMEN’S DEPUTATION. MR. DICKINSON’S BILL AND THE SECOND WOMEN’S PARLIAMENT.
AND now again the thoughts of all the women who wanted votes were turning towards the opening of Parliament. The old fashioned Suffragists had held their demonstration during the recess but that of the Suffragettes was still to come and it had been announced that on February 13th, 1907, a Parliament of women would sit in the Caxton Hall to consider the provision of the King’s speech to be read in the Nation’s Parliament on the previous day. It was but a year since Annie Kenney had set off to rouse London and since Mrs. Pankhurst had feared that we should neither fill the Caxton Hall nor induce a body of women to march for the sake of a vote through the London streets, but the tickets were now sold off so rapidly that the Exeter Hall in the Strand was also requisitioned, and we could now firmly rely on hundreds of women who were ready and eager, not merely to walk in procession, but if need be to risk imprisonment for the Cause.
Parliament met on Tuesday the 12th, and we soon learnt that the King’s speech had made no mention of Votes for Women. Therefore when the Women’s Parliament met at three o’clock next day, it did so ready for decisive action. Mrs. Pankhurst was in the Chair, and throughout the proceedings there were manifestations of an enthusiasm such as the women of our time had before then never learnt to show. A Resolution expressive of indignation that Votes for Women had been omitted from the King’s speech and calling upon the House of Commons to insist that precedence should be given to such a measure, was moved in stirring words and carried with every demonstration of fervent eagerness. A motion that the resolution should be taken to the Prime Minister by a deputation from the meeting was greeted with cheering and waving of handkerchiefs. Then the watchword, “Rise up women!” was sounded, and the answer came in a great unanimous shout, “Now,” while hundreds of women volunteers ready for Parliament or Prison sprang to their feet.
Mrs. Despard was chosen to lead the deputation, and, as each woman marched out of the Caxton Hall, a copy of the Resolution for the Prime Minister was put into her hand. We formed up in orderly procession, and, amid the cheers of the thousands of men and women who had gathered in sympathy, and with police walking in front of us, we marched into Victoria Street and on towards the House of Commons.
It was cold but a shimmering dainty day, the sky a delicate rain-washed blue and the sunshine gleaming on the fine gilded points on the roof of the tall clock tower. We stepped out smartly and all seemed to be going well, but when those who were in front reached the green in front of the Abbey, a body of police barred their way and an Inspector called to them to turn back, and ordered his men to break up the procession. The police strode through and through our ranks, but the women at once united again and pressed bravely on. A little further we went thus, when suddenly, a body of mounted police came riding up. In an instant Mrs. Despard and several others in the front rank were arrested, and the troopers were urging their horses into the midst of the women behind, scattering them right and left.
Still we strove to reach our destination, and returned again and again. Those of us who rushed from the roadway on to the pavement were pressed by the horses closer and closer against the walls and railings until at last we retreated or were forced
away by the constables on foot. Those of us who took refuge in doorways were dragged roughly down the steps and hurled back in front of the horses. When even this failed to banish us, the foot constables rushed at us and, catching us fiercely by the shoulders, turned us round again and then seizing us by the back of the neck and thumping us cruelly between the shoulders forced us at a running pace along the streets until we were far from the House of Commons. They had been told to drive us away and to make as few arrests as possible. Still we returned again, until at last sixty-five women and two men, all of them bruised and dishevelled, had been taken to the police station, and those who had not been arrested were almost fainting from fatigue. Then, after ten o’clock, the police succeeded in clearing the approaches to the House of Commons, and the mounted men were left galloping about in the empty square till midnight, when the House rose.
In spite of the fierce battle to keep them out, fifteen of the Suffragettes succeeded by strategy in making their way into the Strangers’ Lobby of the House of Commons and at about six o’clock attempted to hold a meeting there. The police, of course, rushed to put them out and, in the confusion that ensued one of the women succeeded in getting past the barriers and making her way down the passage leading to the beautiful white inner lobby which opens into the sacred chamber of debate. She had just reached the first set of swing-doors when a Member of Parliament dashed up and slammed them against her with such force that she was thrown to the ground and carried out in a fainting condition.
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