CHAPTER XVII

OCTOBER TO THE END OF 1908

THE TRIAL OF MRS. BAINES. THE MUTINY IN HOLLOWAY. THE TAKING-DOWN OF THE GRILLE.

Mrs. Drummond was right, for though she and her companions had left a great blank in the work of the Union, as she had predicted at the dock at Bow Street, other women eagerly volunteered to raise up the flag that they had been compelled to lay down. In addition to the newcomers, every member of the staff cheerfully undertook some extra task, and the movement grew like a living flame. The office at Clement's Inn was indeed fortunate in its abundance of willing and able workers. Beside Mrs. Pethick Lawrence and her husband, and charming Mrs. Tuke, Mrs. Pankhurst's co-secretary, there were a host of others, amongst them dignified, business-like Miss Kerr, with her rosy face and pretty white hair, thoughtful, reliable Miss Hambling, Mrs. Drummond's secretary, and Mrs. Sanders, who, though financial secretary, was now finding time to keep a list of Cabinet Minister's engagements for us. There was also Jessie, the London organiser, earnest and serious like all the Kenneys, who, showing a grasp of the political situation and an organising capacity indeed remarkable in a girl of twenty-two, marshalled the force of women to ask of members of the Government those constant questions.

The very greatest difficulty was now experienced in getting into Cabinet Ministers' meetings, for women were now almost entirely excluded. The expedient of issuing a limited number of special women's tickets, the recipients of which were obliged to sign both name and address to a pledge neither to disturb the meeting nor to transfer the ticket, was first resorted to for Mr. Haldane's meeting at Sheffield, on November 20th, 1907. The practice had now become general and in some cases the women's tickets had also to be countersigned by a Liberal official to whom the applicants were personally known. But in spite of such precautions the Suffragettes frequently still succeeded in getting into the meetings and that without having given any promise, and when they could not get inside, they invariably raised a protest in the street.

When Cabinet Ministers, cast as they were in unheroic mould, discarded, to a large extent, the custom of delivering their pronouncements to great public gatherings where all might come, and instead frequently made their weighty utterances at bazaars, private or semi-private banquets and receptions and meetings of a few tried and trusted friends, the Suffragettes were always there even though the world and Mrs. Grundy might be shocked. On November 5th, for instance, a well-known Liberal hostess, Mrs. Godfrey Benson, gave a reception in honour of the Prime Minister. As they stood together at the head of the stairs receiving the guests, there came amongst the ladies and gentlemen in evening dress, streaming upward towards them, one strikingly tall and handsome lady in white satin with abundant dark hair, who said as she took the Prime Minister by the hand, "Can I do anything to persuade you to give votes to women?" Then, still holding his hand in hers, she proceeded to read out to him some clauses of Magna Charta, explaining that these had been intended to apply to women as well as to men. Mrs. Godfrey Benson did not for some moments notice Mr. Asquith's dilemma, but as soon as she did so, she seized a police whistle which was attached to a ribbon at her waist, and, by blowing loudly, summoned an officer of the law, who conducted the lady out of the house.

Very great precautions were taken to prevent the Suffragettes approaching Mr. Asquith when he visited Leeds to speak at the Coliseum on the afternoon of Saturday, October 10th. From 7 o'clock in the morning the police had been massed around the hall and cordons, both of foot and mounted men were drawn up outside the railway station and along the road by which the Prime Minister was to pass. But, in spite of all the force to guard him, as Mr. Asquith emerged, Mrs. Baines, a little fragile figure, with face ashen white and dark, blazing eyes, a creature compounded of zeal and passion, threw herself in front of him, crying, "Votes for Women, and down with tyranny!" and the crowd cheered her, though she was at once rudely hurled aside by the police. Then, followed by thousands of people, she made her way to Cockridge Street outside the Coliseum, where she had already announced that she would hold an open air meeting simultaneously with that of Mr. Asquith, inside. A great crowd had gathered there to hear her and when she put to them a resolution that she and her Suffragette comrades should go to the Coliseum to demand an interview with the Prime Minister, a forest of hands shot up in favour. Then declaring, "If these tyrants won't come to us, we must go to them and compel a hearing," she jumped down from the carriage which had served her as a platform, and, followed by a number of other women and more slowly by the crowd itself, she moved on towards the Coliseum. Half way across the road the police barred the way and an inspector asked her where she was going. "Don't be foolish, Mrs. Baines," he said when she told him, but she was not to be deterred and, running round one of the mounted police, was arrested by a constable on foot. The other women still pressed forward and one by one five of them were arrested and taken to the Town Hall, where they were charged with disorderly conduct, whilst Mr. Asquith left the meeting by a back exit amid the hisses and groans of the crowd.

On Monday morning the others were each sent to prison for five days on refusing to be bound over to keep the peace, but the case against Mrs. Baines was held over until the following Wednesday. She was then charged with inciting to riot and unlawful assembly. Her case was to be held over until the Assizes, in November, and the opportunity of being tried by Judge and Jury which Mrs. Pankhurst, Christabel Pankhurst, and Mrs. Drummond had claimed in vain was thus to fall to her lot. The Grand Jury, having returned a True Bill against Mrs. Baines, Mr. Pethick Lawrence, who was defending her, served subpœnas to give evidence at the trial upon Mr. Asquith and Mr. Herbert Gladstone; but the Cabinet Ministers had no intention of allowing themselves to be examined by the Suffragettes and to be made into a Suffragette advertisement a second time. They applied to the Divisional Court for a Rule to set aside the subpœnas, and did not scruple to take advantage of their position as members of the Government to employ both the Attorney General, Sir William Robson, K. C., and the Solicitor General, Sir Samuel Evans, K. C., to plead their case in opposition to Mr. Pethick Lawrence. Though no precedent for setting aside a subpœna in criminal cases could be found, it was decided that neither Mr. Asquith nor Mr. Gladstone should be called upon to give evidence.

On Thursday and Friday, November 19th and 20th, the actual trial took place in the Leeds Town Hall. Mrs. Baines freely admitted that she had used the words, "if these tyrants will not come to us, we must go to them and compel a hearing," and that her intention had been to get into the meeting and secure an interview with the Prime Minister, but she protested that she had had no intention of injuring him or anyone and when Mr. Bairstow, K. C., the Counsel for the prosecution, asked if she had carried any weapons, she replied, "Oh, my tongue is weapon enough!" When asked to give an account of her life, she said that she was the daughter of a working man and had begun to help in earning the family living at eleven years of age. After her marriage she had continued to be a wage-earner, though she was the mother of five children, because her husband, who was a shoemaker, was only able to earn 25 shillings a week. Nevertheless she had done much public and social work as she had been a Salvation Army lieutenant, an evangelist to a working-men's mission, a member of the Stockport unemployed committee and committee for the feeding of school children, and a worker in the temperance cause. When asked to give some account of her speech to the crowd on the 10th of October, she said, "I wanted the men and women of Leeds to understand why we were there to protest against Mr. Asquith's refusal to give us the vote. I said that that afternoon Mr. Asquith would be dealing with the Licensing question; that this was more a woman's question than it was a man's, because we women suffered most through intemperance, and that no real temperance reform would ever be brought about until women had a voice in the matter. The unemployed question was also more a woman's question than it was a man's, because it was the women who really suffered most. Mr. Asquith had never known what it was, as I have done, to go without food or to go to school hungry. We wanted to see Mr. Asquith and we wanted to know when we were going to have access to Mr. Asquith."

After the evidence on both sides had been heard Mr. Lawrence made an eloquent speech for the defence, but it was nevertheless decided that Mrs. Baines was guilty of unlawful assembly. The Judge then asked her to enter into her own recognisances to be of good behaviour, explaining that if she agreed she would merely be promising not to use violence or to incite to violence in future. Mrs. Baines steadfastly maintained that she had had no intention of using violence, but felt that she could not conscientiously agree to be bound over to keep the peace. Mr. Justice Pickford then said that though he was reluctant to do so, he must pass sentence upon her and ordered that she should be imprisoned for six weeks in the Second Division. In the result, however, she was only kept in prison for three weeks because, though she had gone free meanwhile, the fortnight during which she had awaited her trial at the Assizes was counted as part of her sentence, and in addition she was entitled to one week's remission of sentence for good behaviour.

Amid all the whirl of militancy that had been going on the work of educative peaceful propaganda was never allowed to flag and beside the hundreds of uncounted smaller meetings a series of great indoor demonstrations calling for votes for women and the release of the prisoners was held in the Free Trade Hall, Manchester, the Town Hall, Birmingham, the St. George's Hall, Bradford, the Guild Hall, Plymouth, the Town Hall, Huddersfield, the Town Hall, Battersea, the Town Hall, Chelsea, the King's Theatre, Hammersmith, and in many other places, and culminated in a second great demonstration in the Albert Hall on October 29th at which £3,000 was collected. Then, in declaring the £20,000 campaign fund to be complete, Mrs. Pethick Lawrence appealed for it to be carried on to £50,000, and that the half way house of £25,000 should be reached before the founder of the Union should be released from prison.

Whilst the W. S. P. U. had been thus active, the Women's Freedom League had startled London by a cleverly organised and smartly executed demonstration in the Ladies' Gallery of the House of Commons, on October 28th. That morning all the world had awakened to find that little placards, headed "A Proclamation containing a demand for Votes for Women," had been posted on every hoarding. At 8:30 in the evening, whilst Parliament was discussing the Licensing Bill, and Mr. Remnant, one of the Conservative Members, was speaking, a woman in the Ladies' Gallery suddenly thrust through the brass grille one of these proclamations with a cry of "Votes for Women!" Instantly Miss Muriel Matters darted to the front of the Gallery and proceeded to deliver a Suffrage speech, two attendants at once came rushing in, tumbling over the ladies' trains and pushing unceremoniously past them in haste to drag her from her place, only to find that they could not do so, for, by means of a padlock and chain around her waist, she had attached herself to the grille. Whilst some of the men struggled to break the chains, others gagged her by holding their hands over her mouth, but a second woman, also chained, took up the tale with "we demand the vote," and, after she had been stifled in the same impromptu and objectionable fashion, a third cried, "We have remained behind this insulting grille too long."

Members of Parliament were meanwhile pouring into the House to see the show, and though Mr. Remnant spoke on without pausing, but little notice was taken of anything that he said. The attendants in the Gallery now discovered that the chains around the women's waists had been wrapped in wool to prevent their clanking and were secured by strong Yale padlocks, that, on being snapped together, had locked automatically without a key, and after vainly dragging and pulling at the women (who, in spite of the gagging, still managed to articulate a word or two occasionally), and after tugging again and again at both locks and chains, the men came to the conclusion that it would be necessary to remove bodily those parts of the grille to which the three disturbers were attached. Then all the women in the Gallery, Suffragettes, Suffragists and even anti-Suffragists were alike quickly bundled out. Next screwdrivers were brought and the attendants set to work to dismember the grille, and when this had been done the women and the great pieces of wrought brass work, to which they were still attached, were hauled out by the attendants and taken to Committee Room 15, where they were kept until a smith arrived to file through the chains.

By this time the House had resumed its ordinary, humdrum appearance, and the Members who had come in during the disturbance had all drifted away, but, as the Division bell rang and they came trooping back to vote, a man in the Strangers' Gallery shouted, "Why don't you do justice to women?" and was dragged out by a number of policemen, and within ten minutes afterwards a second man shouted, "Why don't you give votes to women?" and flung a shower of leaflets down amongst the Members.

At the same time several women were attempting to hold a meeting in the Lobby. The police flung them outside but they immediately climbed up to speak from the pedestal of the Richard Cœur de Lion statue, and whilst the constables clambered up after them, pulled them down and placed them under arrest, other Suffragettes made dash after dash to re-enter the House. Crowds quickly gathered and the confusion grew and fourteen women and one man had been taken into custody before the people were dispersed.

Next morning the prisoners were brought up at the Westminster Police Court before Mr. Hopkins. The first to be charged was Mr. Arnold Cutler, the man who had been arrested in the fray, and it was alleged that he had protested against the action of the police, crying, "Shame! Leave the Women alone!" and that when dragged away he had taken off his belt and "assumed a threatening attitude." He was fined 25 shillings. The women were more heavily punished, being each fined £5, and on refusing to pay were sent to Holloway for one month.

Meanwhile, both in and out of Parliament, day after day, and week after week, Mr. Herbert Gladstone was being urged to extend to the Suffragist prisoners, the treatment that his own father and every Liberal statesman had declared to be due to political offenders, and the protests were rendered the more pointed because at this very time there were a number of men political prisoners, serving sentences in Ireland, who were actually receiving all the privileges which were being demanded on behalf of the Suffragettes. These men were convicted of boycotting and cattle driving. They were allowed to provide their own clothing, furniture, food and malted liquor and to have their own medical attendant and medicines sent in to them at any time. They were allowed to smoke and to have books, newspapers and other means of occupation, to carry on their profession, if that were possible. They were allowed to correspond freely with their friends and to receive visitors every day, and were exempted from prison tasks. Their imprisonment, in fact, entailed little more than the loss of freedom to come and go as they wished. The case of Mr. Farrell, M. P., who, whilst the Suffragette leaders were in Holloway gaol, was convicted of inciting to cattle driving, was technically parallel to that of Mrs. Pankhurst, Christabel Pankhurst, and Mrs. Drummond; but whilst both he and they were alike ordered to be bound over to keep the peace and to find sureties for their good behaviour; on their common refusal, he was committed to prison in the First Division, whilst they were put in the second class.

Meanwhile, news of the prisoners in Holloway had gradually filtered out to us, and the first messenger from them was Mrs. Drummond herself, who nine days after her imprisonment had begun, was suddenly and unexpectedly released. She then told us that on arriving in Holloway, Mrs. Pankhurst had at once announced to the authorities that the time had come when the Suffragettes would no longer submit to the degrading prison regulations which had hitherto been enforced upon them, and that she and her comrades would begin by refusing either to allow themselves to be searched or to change their clothes in the general public dressing room. She further stated that for her own part she was determined to speak with her fellow political prisoners, both at exercise, and at any other time when they might happen to be together, for this was a right to which she considered all political prisoners were entitled. Seeing that it would be both difficult and troublesome to turn her from her purpose, the Governor gave way upon the first point, and agreed that the Suffragist prisoners should be allowed to undress privately in separate cells; but in regard to any other matters he declared that the Home Secretary must be communicated with. Mrs. Pankhurst and Christabel, therefore, at once addressed petitions to Mr. Herbert Gladstone, claiming that as political prisoners both they and the other Suffragettes should be permitted to write and receive letters; to associate with their fellow political prisoners; to receive visits from their friends; to attend to business matters as far as possible; to have books and newspapers sent in to them; to wear their own clothing, and to provide their own food. Mr. Gladstone refused to comply with any of the requests, and the prison rules were enforced with all their accustomed vigour, except that for the first week Mrs. Pankhurst was allowed, without challenge, to speak to her fellow prisoners. On Sunday, November 1st, however, the wardress suddenly called her out of the ranks, sharply reprimanded her for speaking and, when she refused to give a promise never to do so again, ordered her to return to her cell. Hearing this, the other Suffragettes came running across the yard and clustered around, giving three cheers for Mrs. Pankhurst, whilst the wardress blew her whistle and dozens of others appeared to drive the Suffragettes inside.

It happened that on that same morning, she never could tell why, Mrs. Drummond's cell had not been unlocked at the time for exercise, and she had been left behind whilst the others had gone out into the yard. She was sitting wondering what had happened, when she suddenly heard the sound of cheers. At once she hastily dragged her plank bed to the window and, clambering up, saw the Suffragettes in their prison dress, with numbers of wardresses after them, running across the yard in all directions. Then they disappeared and all was quiet. When next she was let out into the corridor and when she was taken to the chapel, she saw no sign of her comrades, and though she asked the wardress for news of them, no answer was returned. It was on the same evening that a sense of growing weakness that had been upon her since her entrance into prison, overcame her and she must have fainted suddenly, for she was found by the wardress lying unconscious on the floor. She was carried to a hospital cell and put to bed, and as she begged for more air, the outer door was thrown open, and only the gate with which hospital cells are also provided, was closed. Soon afterwards, Mrs. Pankhurst, who occupied the next cell, passed along the corridor to fill her water can and through the bars was able to tell Mrs. Drummond briefly what had happened--that she herself was to remain under punishment, and to be deprived of both exercise and chapel until she would promise not to attempt to speak again. By the doctor's orders, Mrs. Drummond remained in bed until Tuesday, when the Governor and the Matron came to her and told her that the Home Secretary had given orders for her release. As soon as the officers had left her, she sprang up and rushed to the gate of her cell, calling out loudly to Mrs. Pankhurst, "The Home Secretary has ordered me out." "I am glad," was the reply, as the wardress came hurrying back to expostulate.

On hearing Mrs. Drummond's story we at once decided that a demonstration of encouragement to our imprisoned comrades and of protest against their treatment by the authorities, must be held outside the gaol, and on the following Saturday evening a long procession of women, headed by a brass band and a little carriage, in which rode Mrs. Drummond and those of us who were to speak, and a brake filled with ex-prisoners in prison dress, assembled in Kingsway and set off for Holloway gaol. All along the route cheering crowds gathered, and our procession grew as we marched, and when we reached Holloway all the roads that encircle the prison were densely crowded with human beings. We stopped outside the main entrance to hold a meeting, but the masses of people were far too great for our voices to reach them and our horses, startled by the vast crowds which pressed closer and closer, showed signs of becoming restive. Mrs. Drummond therefore led off a cheer for the Suffragette prisoners inside and the crowd raised their voices with her again and again. Then we slowly encircled the prison three times, alternately cheering and singing the Women's Marseillaise:[31]

Arise! Though pain or loss betide, Grudge naught of Freedom's toll, For what they loved the martyrs died Are we of meaner soul? Are we of meaner soul?

Our comrades greatly daring Through prison bars have led the way, Who would not follow to the fray, Their glorious struggle proudly sharing?

To Freedom's Cause till death We swear our fealty, March on! March on! Face to the dawn, The dawn of liberty.

During the ensuing week two batches of our prisoners were released and each one carried out to us further disquieting news. Mrs. Pankhurst, who was still being punished, had been characterised by the authorities as a "dangerous criminal," and, because she still refused to pledge herself to perpetual silence, a wardress was constantly stationed outside her door to prevent any attempt at communication with her. It was rumoured also that she was very ill and this was confirmed by Mr. Gladstone in reply to questions by Members of Parliament, but my request, either to be allowed to see her for myself, or to send in her own medical attendant to interview her, was denied. Again, on the following Saturday, we marched around the prison but this time accompanied by crowds even greater than before. In the meantime, whilst many questions had been put in the House by Members of Parliament, the Suffragettes who had just been released had paid many visits to the Stranger's Lobby and eventually Mr. Gladstone agreed that Christabel and Mrs. Pankhurst should be allowed to spend one hour of each day together. At the same time he refused to allow Christabel to write a book upon the Women's Suffrage question for a firm of London publishers, to be published after her release, though it was well known that Mr. Ginnell during his imprisonment for inciting to cattle driving, had been allowed to write his book entitled _Life and Liberty_.

On Saturday, November 19th, thirteen more prisoners were released and we learnt that a fortnight before there had been another so-called "mutiny" in Holloway. Mrs. Leigh had been, falsely accused of inciting the other Suffragette prisoners to mutiny, and as a punishment had been, deprived of exercise and chapel for three days, and Miss Wallace-Dunlop determined to prove her innocence. Every prisoner has the right to lay a complaint before the Governor, but the application to see him is supposed to be made when the cell doors are first opened at six o'clock in the morning, and he afterwards visits the prisoner when and where he may think fit and usually in her own cell. It was necessary for Miss Wallace-Dunlop's purpose that he should come to her when all her fellow prisoners were together in order that each might give her testimony. She accordingly chose to make her application during the associated labour which Dr. Mary Gordon, the new lady Inspector, had instituted that summer. So at half past three that afternoon when the Suffragettes with a space of a yard between each other had seated themselves at a number of deal tables in one of the corridors and had settled down to make shirts and mail bags, she asked the wardress in charge to send for the Governor.

By 5:30, when the time for associated labour was at an end, the Governor had sent no reply and the wardress gave the order, "Return to your cells," but Miss Wallace-Dunlop gave a counter command: "Do not return to your cells." There had been no previous understanding between them, but the women sat firm, and when the order to leave was repeated they still did not move, leaving it to their leader to again explain that they would remain where they were until the Governor or his deputy should arrive. The wardress then sharply blew her whistle, whereupon crowds of tall wardresses appeared from all directions and lined the corridor in long rows. Then Miss Wallace-Dunlop rose. Those of us who know her can well imagine the scene. She has one of those faces that, when we recall them to our minds, we always see as though lit up, turned towards a full light that streams upon them, and at the same time illumined from within. The spirit that glows within them is intensely vibrant with sympathy for others, yet though the sadness of others' sorrow finds instant reflection in them and we know that their hearts throb with the bitter pain of other hearts, a quiet gaiety is habitual to them and we think of them always as brightly and serenely happy; it seems not possible for a shadow to fall across the clear purity of their minds. So we can plainly picture for ourselves her tall, slight, erect figure standing forth, and hear her gentle light-toned voice say to the women: "Set your backs against the wall and all link arms." Instantly they obeyed and stood where she had told them, looking firm and immovable though the officials outnumbered them by more than ten to one. Then there was silence, and the wardresses made no move. At last steps were heard coming from a long distance--one always hears them away off in Holloway. Gradually they came nearer and nearer until the Governor arrived. Then the Suffragette leader stepped forward. "We have sent for you," she said gravely, "because we have a statement to make. One of our comrades has been unjustly punished." "You know I am always willing to listen to your statements," the Governor replied, "but I can do nothing to-night unless you return to your cells." Then, on his promising to enquire into the whole matter, Miss Wallace-Dunlop was satisfied and she and her comrades quietly obeyed.

But, when the Governor came round the cells next morning, he ordered that every Suffragette who had been present should appear before the visiting magistrates to answer to a charge of mutiny, and on the following day, they were each sentenced to from three to five days' solitary confinement and the associated labour, about which there had always been more labour than association, as the prisoners were forbidden to communicate, was abandoned altogether. Mrs. Leigh was still deprived both of Chapel and exercise, and the others who had caught an occasional glimpse of her, as she passed to fill her water can, stated that she appeared to be suffering very greatly from this close solitary confinement.

Again on the next Saturday we marched to Holloway, carrying before us a white banner inscribed with the text of the Women's Enfranchisement Bill. There we found the police on horse and foot mustered against us a thousand strong, barring the nearest approaches to the prison so that, although we again circled it, it was at so great a distance that only once, through a gap in the surrounding buildings, could we see its walls, and we doubted whether our voices, loud and numerous as they were, could be heard by the prisoners inside.

FOOTNOTES:

[31] By Miss F. E. M. Macaulay.