“Nor dream, nor rest, nor pause
Remains for him who round him draws
The battered mail of Freedom’s cause.”
It may surprise some of my readers to learn that the first great
uprising against legalised vice had much less of the character of the
“revolt of a sex” than has been often supposed. We have heard much of
late years, and more than we did when our abolitionist movement began,
of the great “Woman Question” in all its various phases and
developments. I never myself viewed this question as fundamentally any
more a woman’s question than it is a man’s. The legislation we opposed
secured the enslavement of women and the increased immorality of men;
and history and experience alike teach us that these two results are
never separated. Slavery and License lead to degradation, political
ruin, and intellectual decay, and therefore it was that we held that
this legislation and the opposition to it were questions for the whole
nation at large.
We arose—we women as well as men—in defence of the grand old principles
which happily have prevailed and constantly been revived in the
Constitution and Government of our country since very early times until
recently. It is to those principles, and to the successive noble
struggles for their preservation, that England owes, in a large measure,
her greatness; if indeed we may venture to use that word. Those
principles, I have ever believed, and continue to believe, have their
foundation in the Ethics of Christ; and therefore it is that they have
endured so long, and prevailed against repeated and violent attacks. But
they are being lost to us now. Slowly, gradually, they have ceased to be
respected. They do not readily flow on alongside of all the Democratic
tendencies of our times. All political parties alike, it seems to me,
now more or less regard those principles as out of date, old-fashioned,
impossible as a basis of action. My heart is sorrowful as I record this
conviction. I recall the past of our country’s history, with its loyalty
and love for those great constitutional principles for which patriots
have suffered and died, and for which we, in our struggle, were also
ready to suffer and die. I contrast that loyalty and that love with the
present prevailing loose notions concerning the worth of the individual,
the sacredness of the human person, and of liberty. As I do so it seems
to me that I am standing by the side of a bier, and looking on the _face
of a dead friend_. If one writes a word concerning those principles now,
there is scarcely a reader who does not turn over to another page,
finding the subject dry and uninteresting.
It may be that, when present tendencies have developed into something
like the fetichism of Socialistic State-Worship, with its attendant
tyrannies and sufferings, there will be a reaction, and that men will be
driven, in self-defence, to look back and remember the great moral and
political truths, the sound and tried principles which have been lost
sight of, and that by reviving respect for these, they will be able to
plant them firmly once more even in the very heart of the Democracy of
the future. But that time is not yet.
A very old-fashioned statesman, who lived more than a century ago, when
urging his countrymen to retrace a false step, spoke the following words
in Parliament: “If I had a doubt upon this matter, I would follow the
example set us by the Reverend Bishops, with whom I believe it is a
maxim, when any doubt in point of faith arises, to appeal at once to the
great source and evidence of our religion—I mean the Bible. The English
Constitution has its political Bible also, by which, if it be fairly
consulted, every political question may and ought to be determined.
Magna Charta, the Bill of Rights, and the Petition of Rights, form the
Code which I call the Bible of the English Constitution.” And so, in
1869 and the following years, seeing, as we did, a direct violation of
the principles of just law in the enactments which enslaved the poorest
and weakest in the supposed interests of a stronger and a less worthy
portion of society, and fearing for the future of our country in
consequence, we were driven to search the annals of our past history, to
inquire into past crises of danger, and into the motives and character
of the champions who fought the battles of Liberty. This we did with the
keenness of search and singleness of purpose, with which, in an agony of
spiritual danger, a well-nigh shipwrecked soul may search the Scriptures
and the teachings of Christ, believing that in His Word he has Eternal
Life.
It is recorded in Whitelock’s “Memorials” that in the reign of James I.
Sir George Crooke obstinately opposed himself to certain corruptions in
the Government, while others, though noble men also, wavered. The
historian attributes this steadfastness to the influence of Crooke’s
wife, Lady Crooke, who continually urged him on, and bade him not fear
to do right; and the following words are added by the historian:—“It
were well for the country if our daughters as well as our sons were
taught and confirmed in the truth, _that public virtue is to the full as
important as private morality_, for then we should add a mighty strength
to the buttresses of our integrity.”
So far as I have been able to study history, I have never found that
there was a strong, virtuous and free nation in which the women of that
nation were not something more than mere appendages to men in domestic
life. They were also strong for public duty, unwavering in principle,
and courageous (in crises of danger) for the national defence. In
contemplating the present and future of our nation, the dangers ahead,
and its resources and means for regeneration, it is impossible not to
reckon among the latter the development in the last quarter of a century
of a multitude of truly patriotic women, none the less devoted wives and
mothers, and an adornment to their homes, because yearning over their
country, and far-sighted, not only for _her_ vital interests, but for
those of the other nations of the world.
The danger which threatened us, and the tyranny which had invaded us at
the time of which I am writing, were of a twofold nature; a moral as
well as a very grave political danger. The former, most good men and
women instinctively acknowledged. To fully appreciate the latter
required probably more instruction in the laws and constitution of our
country than most women then possessed; and we were driven continually
to urge our fellow-workers to strengthen themselves for the warfare in
which we were engaged by trying to master this part of the subject by
grave reading and thought. I read again, at that time, attentively, the
accounts of the great struggles of our forefathers on behalf of the
freedom and purity of our English Commonwealth, and was, more than ever,
deeply impressed with the fact that in striving for freedom they ever
strove for virtue also, and consciously so, for they knew the vital
character of the work they had in hand, and were, for the most part, men
who feared God and maintained the purity of private and domestic life,
while they defended even unto death, in many cases, the great principles
of justice upon which our Constitution was based. And their women stood
up side by side with them. Without pausing to wrangle, as has been too
much the case in modern times, over the idle controversy concerning
woman’s “sphere,” they simply came forward at the call of duty, armed
with some knowledge of law and history, as well as of Christian truth,
and were able calmly and clearly to meet and confute all who endeavoured
to violate the liberty of the subject in his person or his conscience.
There seemed to have been a retrogression in the public spirit of women
since that time. But, happily, in God’s Providence, in the early years
of our Crusade, the introduction of a great public tyranny again forced
upon women equally with men the solemn question, “Where ought human
legislation to terminate? At what point are we called on to decide,
shall we obey God or man?”
It was clear to us from the first that the character and conduct of our
opposition to the immorality and illegality of the vice-regulating laws
must be decided by the depth and sincerity of the moral and religious
convictions of the mass of our people. It was granted us, in response to
the deep desire of our hearts, to perceive already at that time an
approaching revival of moral faith and spiritual energy, simultaneously
with the rapid advance of a materialism culminating in this frightful
expression of medical domination and legislative tyranny. The opposing
principles were about to meet in a great encounter; it seemed as if
God’s voice was calling us to gird on our armour, to watch and be sober.
His eye was upon us. We became aware that from the first His hand had
been guiding our action in connection with all this movement, and
controlling the adverse elements; and we were about to learn more
clearly than ever before the force of a spiritual and moral revival as
an agency for political reform.
Our struggle, however, though bearing many points of resemblance to
former struggles in defence of freedom and virtue, stood almost alone in
one striking characteristic, viz., that in our case we had to combat
distinctly a double violation of principles. Formerly, encroachments on
our liberties did not always involve a direct outrage on public morality
and the sanctities of family life. Tyrannical aggressions in former days
were indeed ever the fruit of evil principles or passions in one form or
another, of the lust of power or of conquest, the greed of gain, or
personal indulgence or revenge; but the effect of such aggressions was
not so directly to demoralise the people. The immorality was, more or
less, confined to the tyrant and his immediate agents. But the
legislation which we had risen up to oppose sowed broadcast the seeds of
an immoral principle. It was a legislation which not only proceeded from
an evil source, but forced evil upon the people.
By the expression of the above thoughts I am anxious to make my readers
clearly understand that our early conflict in this cause was—at least
for myself and the considerable group of firm and enlightened women with
whom I had the happiness to work—much less of a simple woman’s war
against man’s injustice, than it is often supposed to have been. It was
wider than that. It was as a citizen of a free country first, and as a
woman secondly, that I felt impelled to come forward in defence of the
right. At the same time, the fact that this new legislation _directly_
and shamefully attacked the dignity and liberties of women, became a
powerful means in God’s Providence of awakening a deeper sympathy
amongst favoured women for their poorer and less fortunate sisters than
had probably ever been felt before. It consolidated the women of our
country, and gradually of the world, by the infliction on them of a
double wrong, an outrage on free citizenship, and an outrage on the
sacred rights of womanhood. It helped to conjure up also a great army of
good and honourable men through the length and breadth of the land, who,
in taking up the cause of the deeply injured class, soon became aware
that they were fighting also for themselves, their own liberties, and
their own honour.
Thus the peculiar horror and audacity of this legislative movement for
the creation of a slave class of women for the supposed benefit of
licentious men forced women into a new position. Many, who were formerly
timid or bound by conventional ideas to a prescribed sphere of action,
faced right round upon the men whose materialism had been embodied in
such a ghastly form, and upon the Government which had set its seal upon
that iniquity; and so, long before we had approached near to attaining
to any political equality with men, a new light was brought by the force
of our righteous wrath and aroused sense of justice into the judgment of
Society and the Councils of Nations, which encouraged us to hope that we
should be able to hand down to our successors a regenerated public
spirit concerning the most vital questions of human life, upon which
alone, and not upon any expert or opportunist handling of them, the
hopes of the future must rest.
My cousin, Charles Birrel, wrote to me at that time as follows:—“You and
your companion women have struck a note for which the ages have been
waiting, and which even the Church itself, in its organised forms, has
never yet intoned.”
The year 1873 was not marked by any great event bearing upon our Cause
in Parliament or in the country. But, on the other hand, it was marked
by an accelerated movement generally on behalf of our principles in
every part of the United Kingdom. The seed was abundantly sown during
this year which was destined to bear a rich harvest later. At the end of
this year there existed some dozen different societies in the United
Kingdom working in accord towards the one object, and having committees
and correspondents in more than six hundred towns.
First, there was the National Association, which moved its central
offices, about this time, nearer to the House of Commons, and which
continued to carry on the most active propaganda throughout the Kingdom,
and at the same time to bring strong pressure to bear upon Parliament,
and to watch every move of our opponents. Secondly, there was the
Ladies’ National Association, followed by the Northern Counties League,
the Midland Counties Electoral Union, the North Eastern Association, the
Scottish National Association, the Edinburgh and Glasgow Ladies’
Committees, the Dublin Branch of the National Association, the Cork
Branch and Belfast Branch of the same, and of the Ladies’ National
Association; and, lastly, but not less important than any of the others,
was the Friends’ Association, consisting of a number of the leading
members of the Society of Friends throughout the Kingdom, with the late
Mr. Edward Backhouse as President. I recall some of the most prominent
and honoured names in this Association, which gave to our cause from the
first the weight of those qualities which seem almost peculiar to that
body of Christians—great determination and calmness combined; all the
fighting qualities in the highest degree, together with a gentleness of
manner and procedure which wins opponents and softens the asperities of
conflict. Besides Mr. Edward Backhouse, we had the help and inspiration
for many years of the late Mr. George Gillett and Mr. Frederic Wheeler.
Many ladies, in fact I may say all the prominent ladies of the Society
of Friends, came forward in our work, and those who were less prominent
joined heartily and usefully in the rank and file.
This year was also marked by the fact that several other movements were
inaugurated which resulted in very important reforms. These movements
were begun and carried through by groups of the very same persons who
had risen up against the Regulation of vice. The vitality of our Crusade
appeared—if I may say so—to cause it to break through the boundaries of
its own particular channel, and to create and fructify many movements
and reforms of a collateral character. We felt that it was necessary,
while combating the State Regulation of vice, and forcing our Government
to retrace the false step it had taken, also to work against all those
disabilities and injustices which affect the interests of women. Thus a
Society was formed, of whom the great mover and promoter was Mrs.
Wolstenholme Elmy, for obtaining for the poorer class of married women
the right to the possession of wages earned by themselves, and which
developed into the Married Women’s Property Act. Another reform, which
we aimed at and attained, and in which Mrs. Elmy also took a prominent
part, was the reform of the Mutiny Act. This Act released soldiers, both
married and single, from all responsibility in regard to their children,
legitimate or illegitimate. This we felt to be a grave injustice, and it
was confessed on all sides to be fruitful of much mischief and misery.
Perhaps the most important of the Societies formed at this time was the
Association for the Defence of Personal Rights, which embraced a number
of points bearing directly upon the interests of women, and aimed at the
destruction of many abuses which tended directly or indirectly to foster
the great evil of prostitution.
I do not here mention the Women’s Suffrage Movement, which took its rise
before our Abolitionist Crusade began, and has continued to pursue its
own distinct and separate aim unceasingly throughout the years which
followed up to the present time, receiving an additional impulse,
however, from the enactment of the injustice which the Abolitionists
were banded together to overthrow, and from every other enactment which
attacked or ignored the interests of one-half of the human race.
I cannot, without departing from the immediate subject of my
Reminiscences, enter into the details of these or other movements which
were carried on simultaneously with our central one, and only mention
them in passing.
In this year an immense number of petitions were sent to Parliament, and
also Memorials to individual members of the Government and the House.
The working population of the country began to increase their
activities, which resulted somewhat later in the formation of the
Working Men’s League for Repeal, beginning with a list of names of
50,000 working men, who enrolled themselves as members in a very brief
time, and of which Mr. Edmond Jones, a working man of Liverpool, was the
indefatigable and able President for a number of years.
In the autumn of 1872 an opportunity again arose, through an election at
Pontefract, of reminding the Government once more that the claims of the
Abolitionists could not safely be ignored. The Right Hon. H. Childers
was obliged, by certain changes in the Ministry, to seek re-election. He
had been first Lord of the Admiralty, and in that office it had fallen
to his lot to administer the obnoxious regulations in connection with
our Naval Stations. Several orders had been issued from the Admiralty
during his term of office concerning the administration of the system at
Plymouth and Portsmouth—orders which had shocked the moral sense of many
persons who had not previously been able to see clearly through the
conventional wording of the Law itself, the iniquity of the principles
on which it was based.
Personally, however, Mr. Childers never seemed to me a very devoted
adherent of the evil system. His advocacy of it appeared rather to
express a confused comprehension of the matter than perverse moral
obliquity. His official responsibility, however, made it impossible for
our party to allow him to be re-elected without question or opposition.
We did not hope to secure his rejection as a Parliamentary candidate.
All we aimed at was the arousing again of the attention of the
Government to a sense of the importance of our demands. A certain number
of us, therefore, went to Pontefract.
On the first day of his canvass, Mr. Childers having engaged the Town
Hall at Knottingley, to address the electors there at nine o’clock on
the evening of the 13th August, the Abolitionists, wishing to have the
first word, secured the same Hall for seven o’clock, agreeing to move
out in time to leave the building clear for their opponents. Then Mr.
Childers’ party attempted to checkmate them by announcing that he would
address the electors at a much earlier hour, and from the windows of the
Buck Inn instead of the Town Hall. This enabled us to be present, and to
hear what Mr. Childers had to say. He made the customary excuses
concerning the delicacy of the subject, and asked those who desired it
to be dropped to hold up their hands. Mr. H. J. Wilson here enquired
whether he, as a non-elector (for Pontefract), might ask a question, and
the reply from the window was, “No! you are not an elector, you are not
wanted.” Groans followed this answer, and a hubbub ensued. Mr. Wilson
would have been roughly handled had not a body of working men placed
themselves on each side of him, saying, “Stand still; don’t move an
inch; you shall be heard; ask your questions; we want to hear the
answers.” During this time Mr. Childers’ chairman, carried away with
passion, was trying to reach Mr. Wilson’s head in order to castigate him
with his umbrella. The crowd swayed backwards and forwards, and Mr.
Wilson stood firm, with a smile upon his face. Some questions were asked
from the crowd, and not at all satisfactorily answered by Mr. Childers.
Suddenly a voice shouted, “To the Town Hall!” (for our meeting). The cry
was taken up, and the crowd started in that direction. With some other
ladies I had been watching the scene from a window, when several
gentlemen came up to us, and proposed to escort us to the Town Hall by
way of a quiet back street. Thereupon some of the working men cried out,
“No; never go down by a back way. Come along through the middle of the
crowd, and before their windows; we will protect you.” Our progress to
the Town Hall was thus converted into a sort of triumphal procession,
Mr. Wilson walking first, with the Blue Book of the Royal Commission
under his arm, attended by Mr. Edmondson and others, and loudly cheered
by the crowd of men and women in whose midst they moved; while Mr.
Childers and his friends looked with perplexed faces from the windows of
the Buck Inn upon their retreating audience, which had gone wholly over
to the opposition. It was not an encouraging scene for a Parliamentary
candidate.
One of Mr. Childers’ friends had, however, hurried to the Town Hall,
and, reaching the platform before we arrived, offered himself as
chairman. Mr. Wilson proposed another chairman, and a new disturbance
arose, which lasted for about half an hour. Eventually, however, Mr.
Wilson and others were heard with much attention and applause.
Mr. Childers’ party retorted by attacking and dispersing a meeting of
women the following day. We had arranged to hold this meeting of women
in the afternoon, when Mr. Childers was again to address a large
concourse from the window of a house. We had decided to hold our meeting
at the same hour, thinking we should be unmolested. We had been obliged
to go all over the town before we found anyone bold enough to grant us a
place to meet in. At last we found a large hay-loft over an empty room
on the outskirts of the town. We could only ascend to it by means of a
kind of ladder, leading through a trap-door in the floor. However, the
place was large enough to hold a good meeting, and was soon filled. Mr.
Stuart had run on in advance and paid for the room in his own name, and
had again looked in to see that all was right. He found the floor strewn
with cayenne pepper in order to make it impossible for us to speak, and
there were some bundles of straw in the empty room below. He got a poor
woman to help him, and with bucket of water they managed to drench the
floor and sweep together the cayenne pepper. Still, when we arrived, it
was very unpleasant for eyes and throat. We began our meeting with
prayer, and the women were listening to our words with increasing
determination never to forsake the good cause, when a smell of burning
was perceived, smoke began to curl up through the floor, and a
threatening noise was heard below at the door. The bundles of straw
beneath had been set on fire, and the smoke much annoyed us. Then, to
our horror, looking down the room to the trap-door entrance, we saw
appearing head after head of men with countenances full of fury; man
after man came in, until they crowded the place. There was no possible
exit for us, the windows being too high above the ground, and we women
were gathered into one end of the room like a flock of sheep surrounded
by wolves. Few of these men, we learned, were Yorkshire people; they
were led on by two persons whose _dress_ was that of gentlemen.
It is difficult to describe in words what followed. It was a time which
required strong faith and calm courage. Mrs. Wilson and I stood in front
of the company of women, side by side. She whispered in my ear, “Now is
the time to trust in God; do not let us fear”; and a comforting sense of
the Divine presence came to us both. It was not personal violence that
we feared so much as the mental pain inflicted by the rage, profanity
and obscenity of the men, of their words and their threats. Their
language was hideous. They shook their fists in our faces, with volleys
of oaths. This continued for some time, and we had no defence or means
of escape. Their chief rage was directed against Mrs. Wilson and me. We
understood by their language that certain among them had a personal and
vested interest in the evil thing we were opposing. It was clear that
they understood that “their craft was in danger.” The new teaching and
revolt of women had stirred up the very depths of hell. We said nothing,
for our voices could not have been heard. We simply stood shoulder to
shoulder—Mrs. Wilson and I—and waited and endured; and it seemed all the
time as if some strong angel were present; for when these men’s hands
were literally upon us, they were held back by an unseen power. There
was among our audience a young Yorkshire woman, strong and stalwart,
with bare muscular arms, and a shawl over her head. She dashed forward,
fought her way through the crowd of men, and, running as fast as she
could, she found Mr. Stuart on the outskirts of Mr. Childers’ meeting,
and cried to him, “Come! Run! They are killing the ladies.” He did run,
and came up the ladder stairs into the midst of the crowd. As soon,
however, as they perceived that he was our defender, they turned upon
him. A strong man seized him in his arms; another opened the window; and
they were apparently about to throw him headlong out. Some of us ran
forward between him and the window, thus just giving him time to slip
from between the man’s arms on to the floor, and glide away to the side
where we were. He then asked to be allowed to say a few words to them,
and, with good temper and coolness, he argued that he had taken the
room, that it was his, and if they would kindly let the ladies go he
would hear what they had to say. A fierce argument ensued. Meanwhile
stones were thrown into the window, and broken glass flew across the
room. While all this was going on (it seemed to us like hours of
horrible endurance), hope came at last, in the shape of two or three
helmeted policemen, whose heads appeared one by one through the
trap-door. “Now,” we thought, “we are safe!” _But no!_ These were
Metropolitans who had come from London for the occasion of the election;
they simply looked at the scene with a cynical smile, and left the place
without an attempt to defend us. My heart grew sick as I saw them
disappear. Our case seemed now to become desperate. Mrs. Wilson and I
whispered to each other in the midst of the din, “Let us ask God to help
us, and then make a rush for the entrance.” Two or three working women
placed themselves in front of us, and we pushed our way, I scarcely know
how, to the stairs. It was only myself and one or two other ladies that
the men really cared to insult and terrify, so if we could get away we
felt sure the rest would be safe. I made a dash forward, and took one
leap from the trap-door to the ground-floor below. Being light, I came
down safely. I found Mrs. Wilson with me very soon in the street. Once
in the open street, these cowards did not dare to offer us violence. We
went straight to our own hotel, and there we had a magnificent women’s
meeting. Such a revulsion of feeling came over the inhabitants of
Pontefract when they heard of this disgraceful scene that they flocked
to hear us, many of the women weeping. We were advised to turn the
lights low, and close the windows, on account of the mob; but the hotel
was literally crowded with women, and we scarcely needed to speak;
events had spoken for us, and all honest hearts were won.
On the day before the voting day we held a serious consultation of
friends in our hotel, and agreed to work all that day and night, and
leave the town early in the morning, before the polling began; as after
that we could be of no further use. We drew up a last appeal to the
electors of Pontefract, and had it printed quickly. The appeal was
short, and printed in large type. When night came, the gentlemen, about
half a dozen in number, obtained a plan of the town, and mapped out
their operations, each taking a certain district with the intention of
going to every house, and pushing this appeal under the doors, so that
it might catch the eye of every householder first thing in the morning.
It was already too late to secure its delivery in time by the post. The
appeal was as follows:—
“ELECTORS OF PONTEFRACT.
“Pause, before you exercise your solemn trust, to consider whether the
man can be worthy of your support who, for eight years, has been deeply
implicated in the immoral, cruel, and treacherous policy embodied in the
Acts we oppose, and in the Government Bill of 1872, which proposed to
extend the principle of these Acts to the whole country.
“If you vote for Mr. Childers you endorse the sentiment that a holy life
is impossible for unmarried men, and that women must be provided for
them by the State, and sacrificed, both body and soul, to their lust—a
sentiment which blasphemes God, insults manhood, and destroys both men
and women, body and soul.
“As you will have to answer at God’s judgment bar, will you uphold the
man and the Government who would thus demoralise and ruin the nation?
“If you are Liberals, save your party by forcing the present Cabinet
from their suicidal policy.”
The night was fine and calm, and the moon shone down upon the quiet
streets. The citizens seemed all to have retired early to rest after the
heat and excitement of the day. I was sitting at my open window in the
silence, and watched one after another of our scouts pass out of the
hotel door and quietly glide away each to his respective district,
carrying packets of our appeal to slip under the doors of the houses.
When they had all disappeared, a solitary figure passed beneath my
window, and a man paused, looking up. It was a member of the Town’s
Police. In a low but distinct voice he begged my pardon for addressing
me, and then went on to express his sympathy and that of his fellow
policemen in regard to the treatment we had received from the mob of
assailants at our women’s meeting and from the members of the
Metropolitan Police. He spoke indignantly of the latter, and begged me
to believe that had the Pontefract Police known of our situation they
would have acted very differently towards us women, even if our cause
had not been so just and good a cause. I felt grateful for these furtive
words of kindness spoken in the silent night.
After several hours, and towards dawn, our friends began to return and
quietly re-enter the hotel. Mr. Stuart had had some adventures. His
district of action included an old Church and graveyard. The moon had
set, and he, missing his way, wandered into this dark cemetery. After
stumbling about for some time over the crowded graves, with difficulty
he found an exit and regained the street.
We left the town betimes the next morning. The result of the voting was
such as to prove to the Government that we Abolitionists were on the
alert and determined, and the incidents of the Election contributed to
open the eyes of Mr. Childers himself to the true nature of the question
at issue, for he became later a convert to our principles.
The following letter was written to me after the Election by a working
man of Leeds. He had gone over to Pontefract from Leeds after his day’s
work was done, solely for the pleasure of aiding our efforts by the
distribution of papers and leaflets, though well aware that, in order to
accomplish his purpose without failing in his duties on the following
day, he would be obliged to perform the journey home (a distance of
nearly twenty miles) on foot.
I say nothing of the self-sacrifice required to undertake such fatigue
after the labours of the day. We were well used to such proofs of
devotion on the part of our working-class supporters, and we knew that
it brought with it its own reward:—
“MADAM,—I venture to give you a short outline of my proceedings. When
passing down Bridge Street, Pontefract, with the bundles under my arm of
papers which I got from Mr. Edmondson, they were noticed by people in
the streets, and more than one called after me, saying that if I went to
Knottingley with them I should be thrown into the river. An incident
occurred whereby I was on the brink of being torn to pieces. In
distributing papers I spared neither distance nor persons—men or
women—and after going the rounds of Ferrybridge and Knottingley, I
called at an Inn. I got permission from the landlord to distribute in
his house. I went round the room with the _white_ papers first, and so
far all was well; but I no sooner commenced with the red bills (Mr.
Childers’ colours) than the whole company rose up and surrounded me for
the purpose of demolishing me and the few bills I had left. The uproar
brought to my rescue the landlord and landlady, who remonstrated with
their customers, saying, ‘Fair play amongst Englishmen! one dog, one
bone!’ etc., during which I mounted upon a stool, and at the top of my
voice shouted out that, with their permission, I would be glad to tell
who and what I was, and would be happy to answer any question anyone
liked to put to me at the close of my observations.
“In addition to this uproarious meeting, I held two open-air meetings,
and have promised to send books and papers, etc., to certain addresses
which I took down. My thoughts were now directed towards home. To say I
was _tired_, to start with, is to give but a faint idea of my condition;
it was a case of _must be_; therefore I cheerfully accepted the task,
and, walking on through the night, I arrived home at 4.30 a.m.,
suffering more from want of food than the distance, for I could not get
anything before I left, as everything was locked up. The road to Leeds I
knew not; so, to get over the difficulty, when I came to finger-posts, I
lighted matches and paper to read them by. The silence of my journey was
only broken occasionally by the fluttering of game birds, or the sudden
dart of a hare across my path. For a part of the time it was extremely
foggy and dewy, so much so as to completely saturate my clothes, as
though I had really been dipped in the river at Knottingley. I was a
little drowsy during the forenoon, took a good sharp four-mile walk in
the evening, and am now glad to say that I never was better in my life;
and, if necessary, I am fully prepared to accept the same amount of
pleasure again in endeavouring to rid my country of these Satanic Acts.”
In the winter of this year the annual meeting of the Trades Union
Congress was held in Leeds. A Conference and a Public Meeting of our
Associations were arranged to take place simultaneously. Prominent
members of the Northern Counties League (Abolitionist) attended. My
husband and I were there. We met in friendly conference, and by
arrangement, the leaders of the working men, who were present in
considerable numbers. There were Joseph Arch, Henry Broadhurst, George
Howell, Mr. Pickard of Wigan, Mr. Banks of Newark, etc.; several of
these afterwards were elected members of Parliament, and their names are
held in honour for their services rendered to the cause of labour. It is
needless to say that their sympathies were wholly with us. At the public
meeting in the evening the speeches made by some of these men were
weighty and pathetic. I was most struck by that of Joseph Arch; he was
followed by my husband, who expressed his own and my deep sympathy with
the daughters of the working classes and the poor, from whose ranks so
many of the victims of the social evil are drawn.