JUNE AND JULY, 1909
THE NINTH WOMEN'S PARLIAMENT. ATTEMPT TO INSIST ON THE CONSTITUTIONAL
RIGHT OF PETITION AS SECURED BY THE BILL OF RIGHTS. ARREST OF MRS.
PANKHURST AND THE HON. MRS. HAVERFIELD. MISS WALLACE DUNLOP AND THE
HUNGER STRIKE. THE FOURTEEN HUNGER STRIKERS IN THE PUNISHMENT CELLS.
MR. GLADSTONE CHARGES MISS GARNETT WITH HAVING BITTEN A WARDRESS. HER
ACQUITTAL.
When the authorities had first raised the threat of punishing women
under the Statute thirteen, Charles II, for proceeding to Parliament
in a body of more than twelve persons with the object of presenting a
petition to the Prime Minister, the Suffragettes had decided to defy
the Statute. We were indignant at the proposal to enforce against us
in the supposed free and enlightened days of the twentieth century, a
coercive law passed in a bygone time of great upheaval and of great
tyranny. Moreover the police authorities had stated that if tried under
this Statute of Charles II the Suffragette cases must be decided by
a judge and jury instead of being hustled through the Police Court.
Deputation after deputation of more than twelve women had therefore
gone forth but though these women had again and again been seized and
imprisoned for periods as long as that prescribed by that Act, the
authorities still did not charge them under the Act of Charles II.
At last, as the seriousness of the whole position grew, our committee
decided that it would be wisest to comply with the very letter of the
law and to stand on the constitutional right of the subject to petition
the Prime Minister as the seat of power. We were advised that the
right of petition, which had been to some extent limited by the Act of
Charles II, had existed from time immemorial. It had been confirmed
by the Bill of Rights which became law in 1689, at the beginning of
the joint reigns of William and Mary, as one of the securities for the
liberties of the British people, the complete preservation of which had
been a condition of the accession of that King and Queen. The Bill of
Rights declares that: "It is the right of the subject to petition the
King and all commitments, and prosecutions for such petitioning are
illegal." As the power of the King had now for all practical purposes
passed into the hands of Parliament, the Prime Minister, as the chief
Parliamentary official, had become the King's representative and
therefore the right to petition the Prime Minister clearly belonged to
each and every member of the Community. This right, though it should
always be zealously guarded, is of course most essential in the case of
persons placed outside of the pale of the franchise.
A ninth Women's Parliament having been called, Mrs. Pankhurst wrote to
Mr. Asquith stating that a deputation from the Women's Parliament would
wait upon him at the House of Commons at eight o'clock on the evening
of June 29th. She informed him further that the deputation could
accept no refusal and must insist upon their constitutional right to be
received.
[Illustration: Mrs. Lawrence's Release Procession, April 17th, 1909]
The Prime Minister returned a formal refusal to receive them but the
women proceeded with their arrangements.
On Tuesday, June 21st, exactly a week before the day fixed for the
Women's Parliament, Miss Wallace Dunlop, visited the House of Commons
with a gentleman who left her and went on into the lobby to interview
a member of Parliament. She passed into St. Stephen's Hall and sitting
down on one of the seats there, unfolded a large block covered with
printers' ink. She was pressing this block to the stone wall, when a
policeman rushed up, and dragged her hurriedly away, but there remained
displayed upon the wall the words:
WOMEN'S DEPUTATION,
JUNE 29th.
BILL OF RIGHTS
It is the right of the Subject to petition the King and all
commitments and Prosecutions for such petitioning are illegal.
Miss Wallace Dunlop was taken to the police Inspector's office opening
out of the Palace Yard, but, after an impression of her notice had
been solemnly made on a sheet of blotting paper, she was allowed
to go. She had been pulled away too speedily to look at her own
handiwork in St. Stephen's Hall, and the policemen told her that it
was "only a smudge." Two days later, therefore, she set out to make
a second attempt to stamp on the wall of St. Stephen's her reminder
to Parliament that the people's liberties must not be violated. She
was able to carefully affix her notice before a policeman appeared,
but she was not to be let off this time. On June 22nd she was tried
for wilfully and maliciously damaging the stone-work of the House
of Commons. She urged in her defence that any damage which she had
caused by affixing the notice was entirely outweighed by the great
constitutional issue which it had been her intention to impress
upon the Members of the House of Commons. "It is claimed by the
prosecution," she said, "that it cost ten shillings to erase the
impression of the first notice and that it will cost probably a similar
sum to wipe out the second. It seems to me that it would have been
better if the authorities had spent no money at all but had let the
impression stay." She was found guilty and ordered either to pay a
fine of £5 and £1. 1. 2 damages or in default to undergo one month's
imprisonment in the third division without hard labour.
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."
[Illustration: 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.[35]
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
by-standers, 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 be 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 by-standers
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 appeared 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 amongst 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
untasted, 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 Suffragettes 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.
"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.
[Illustration: 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 word 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 bag[36] 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 bite 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 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.
FOOTNOTES:
[35] It was afterwards brought back to Clement's Inn by a stranger who
found it still unopened.
[36] 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.