Suffragette (6 page)

“Whatever for?” I was beginning to doubt my commitment to the Cause!

“There are many women and men too, who continue to believe that our sole purpose on this earth is to breed and be perfect wives. They see our work as a threat. Or they have the notion that
we are demeaning ourselves, giving females a bad name. ‘Respectable women stay home,’ they say. ‘It is only the other kind of woman who makes a spectacle of herself in the
street.’

“Others declare that our force is made up of spinsters and widows, that we are women lacking men. All nonsense, of course, and makes me quite furious, but we must be patient. Sooner or
later they will come to see that our place is right alongside men, making decisions, weighing up the choices, taking responsibility for the way the world works. I personally believe that when that
day comes, folk will see that there are certain areas in the public arena that will be better handled by women.”

“Such as?” I asked.

“Well, we are not warmongers, for a start. We don’t run round with weapons. I think the chances of international peace would be increased if the government had women in the cabinet
negotiating on their behalf. Who knows, we might have avoided the Boer War.”

Gosh, I had never considered such a notion before, but it made sense.

Miss Baker then recounted to us the episode of last year when she and several other WSPU colleagues went to Downing Street where one of their suffrage sisters was intending to speak. Miss Nell
chained herself to the railings outside the Prime Minister’s front door so that the police could not move her along before she had finished her speech. She was keen that the Cabinet, who were
in session, as well as the crowd gathering in the street, would hear her words without interruption. “And what an impassioned address it was!” grinned Miss Baker.

“What did she say?” I asked.

“‘Each and every female in this country of eighteen years and older should have the right to vote in this nation’s political elections. We have the right to be equal with men.
We are the equal of men. It is they who are denying us our rights and our true position in the society that we are also building. This battle is about more than the vote. It is about equal
opportunities!’ She was quite remarkable. A blazing force wrapped in chains, a human letter from us all. Flora was with us in the crowd on that occasion. I wish she’d come along more
often. Soon another woman, a nurse, Olivia Smith, rushed forward and followed Miss Nell’s example. Imagine it, Dollie, two women chained to the railings in Downing Street. The police could do
nothing. The crowd grew excited. Some were angry and jeered as the women spoke out. Others were cheering them on. It was a thrilling and a dangerous moment. I rushed forward, intent on joining my
sisters, but Harriet held me back.” Miss Baker paused and took a sip of her tea.

“Why did she do that?”

“I explained to you earlier, Harriet is not militant and she believes that there is important work to be done behind the scenes, in the offices. I am needed for that work because as a
trained teacher I can write the pamphlet literature, and correct the spelling and details.”

“What happened to the two women?” I asked.

“They were arrested. And two others with them. The police hauled all four off to Bow Street Magistrates’ Court, where they were charged with disorderly conduct, found guilty and
sentenced to three weeks’ imprisonment or to pay hefty fines. All chose prison because it creates publicity for our cause. Good Lord, look at the time! We must dash, Dollie, if we are to make
the gallery. Now then, Mary, you take Dollies remaining newspapers and sell them for us, will you, dear? Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that we were gone and off to the Monet exhibition. It was quite wonderful. Such colours, soft as butterfly wings. But I will have to write about that adventure tomorrow because now I am
exhausted. My feet are killing me and Flora has guests for dinner. I intend to wear one of my new frocks.

28th May 1909

I spent about half an hour yesterday standing in front of a painting entitled
Waterlilies
, painted by Claude Monet in 1903. I don’t think that I have ever seen
anything so lovely. It is curious because when you move up close you can see clearly that the canvas is a mass of painted dots. The idea is that, joined together, they give the impression of a
shape or a colour or a scene. That is why he and other artists painting in the same style are known as “Impressionists”. According to Miss Baker there is an entire school of painters in
France who have been christened “French Impressionists”. Not “school” as in my one at Cheltenham, but as in “school of thought”: a way of thinking. The
Impressionists have a way of looking at light and its effect on objects and nature. Wandering through the exhibition, gazing at all those canvases, it was as though someone had drawn back the
curtains on to a new world, a new mode of
seeing
. I have never perceived life, looked at nature, from such a perspective before. It was so beautiful. It really lifted my mood.

I so like Miss Baker. It would be too wonderful if she could be my summer tutor. I shall suggest it to Flora.

29th May 1909

Trying to find time to spend with Flora is so difficult. She has been busy working on a film and there have been so many visitors. Luckily, this evening I found her alone in her
room. She was curled up in a flowery kimono, on her chaise longue, hair flowing long and loose, barefoot, reading a script, with the two Russian Blue cats, Strindberg and Ibsen, dozing at her
side.

I wasted no time in asking if I could possibly withdraw a portion of the money that Lady Violet put in trust for me.

Flora looked astonished. “It is not within my power to authorize that,” she said. “Is there something you need?”

I explained that I had been to see my mother. “I fear she may be seriously ill and needs urgent medical care. I must have money to help her.”

Flora tossed her script to the carpeted floor. “But, Dollie, it is locked away. The terms of the will have to be respected; that is the law. But I can come with you to meet your mother. I
could bring a doctor who can examine her. Then we’ll know what needs to be done. And you are not to concern yourself with the costs.”

I stroked one of the cats, thinking about what Flora had offered. “I don’t know that my mother would be willing to see a doctor.”

“A close friend of mine, Caroline Sturge, is a doctor. She’s very kind. Why don’t we give her a try?”

I agreed that we should, and once I had made the decision I felt as though a great load had been lifted from me.

“That’s settled then. Now, please be a sweetheart and take me through my lines.”

30th May 1909

I entered the cottage first, intending to prepare Mother for the arrival of the others, and was utterly shocked by what I saw. I could not believe that she had deteriorated so
quickly, nor that she had been left alone in such a condition.

“Who’s been looking after you?” I cried. “Where’s John?”

“What’re yer doing bringing those bleedin’ toffs here?” she hissed as Flora and Doctor Sturge entered. “Who are they?”

I did not dare to give Flora’s family name. I asked after my brother again, but Mother could barely talk. I think her initial outburst had weakened her. I glanced about but saw no signs of
a male presence. At least he must be feeding and keeping her or she would have found herself on the streets, in pauper lodgings or the workhouse long ago.

Judging by the grave expression on Doctor Sturge’s face, she seemed to recognize the nature of Mother’s sickness even before she had examined her.

“She needs immediate medical care,” she said.

“Is she going to die?” I croaked.

“Not if we get her to a hospital right now.”

It was a real battle to move her. She may have been weak and very ill but she put up an almighty resistance. “The only way you’ll get me out of ’ere is in a bandbox,” she
rasped.

“What’s a bandbox?” whispered Flora.

“A coffin.”

Eventually she agreed to go. As they carried her out on the stretcher, I saw the dark vermilion stains on her fingers and realized she must have been coughing up blood. Thank Heaven we got here
in time.

31st May 1909

My mother has been taken to St Thomas’s Hospital. Whitechapel would have been closer but both Flora and the doctor agreed that it is desperately overcrowded and both staff
and facilities are inadequate.

I visited her there today. Dr Sturge and another doctor were examining her and I was only allowed to stay for a minute. She seemed pleased to see me though, and I promised to return again
soon.

2nd June 1909

Dr Sturge telephoned Flora late this afternoon. She confirmed that my mother’s lymph glands are very enlarged and that she is suffering from a form of tuberculosis.

“Promise me she won’t die,” I cried when I heard the diagnosis.

“We are doing everything we can,” she answered.

I felt totally depressed when I put down the phone and spent the evening alone in my room.

6th June 1909

Flora and I have been to visit two schools. The headmistresses interviewed us, asked me questions about my time in Cheltenham and requested a report from my former school. One
is in Hammersmith in the west of London and the other is in Camden, a little north of Flora’s house. St Paul’s, the one in Hammersmith, also made me sit a short written exam. The paper
was not difficult, but my heart was not in it. I cannot stop worrying about my mother. Both schools said they would be writing to us shortly.

11th June 1909

NO new school has been settled yet, so Flora was delighted at the suggestion that Miss Baker should tutor me in the meantime.

“But how did you come to meet her, Dollie?”

I could not lie. I owned up to the fact that it was a contact made on the day we visited the Exhibition.

“I see. Well, she is a brilliant woman and a first-class teacher. I only hope that she does not allow her allegiance to the WSPU to colour your studies. I will need her assurance on that
point.”

12th June 1909

Miss Baker came to have tea with us. Flora and she were obviously delighted to see one another again and they have settled on an arrangement. Five sessions a week is what they
have scheduled, so that I don’t fall behind with my lessons. We will study in the living room between eight and ten each morning. The hours are a bit early for my liking but Miss Baker needs
to be at the WSPU offices by half-past ten.

13th June 1909

Lessons began today with a series of oral tests: maths followed by French. Then Miss Baker quizzed me on geography, a bit of English literature and history and, to round it all
off, German verbs.

“Mmm,” she pronounced. “Your maths and German are extremely weak. Your geography is reasonable, your history is rusty and English literature quite good. We have a lot to
do.”

Once all that was over, she set me pages of questions to prepare for tomorrow’s session.

When Flora asked me later how the session had gone, I told her, “Miss Baker is horribly keen on German.”

She laughed and said that she remembered that.

14th June 1909

I went to the WSPU today and helped to prepare pamphlets for distribution. Miss Baker and I sat cross-legged on the floor, slipping them into envelopes while she took me through
some Latin grammar. I have forgotten everything! After we had completed several boxloads we stopped for a cup of tea and she and Harriet astounded me with episodes of their suffrage
experiences.

I learned that on 11th October last year, Emmeline and Christabel Pankhurst, together with another suffragette, Flora Drummond, addressed huge crowds from the plinth of Nelson’s Column in
Trafalgar Square. Thousands of handbills were distributed. They were printed with the message:
Men and Women, help the Suffragettes to Rush the House of Commons on Tuesday Evening, 13th October
1908 at 7.30 pm.

Miss Baker remembered that it had been a warm day, the end of a long hot summer, and all the while she was distributing her leaflets she had been aware of the eyes of the police upon her. They
were stationed everywhere.

“The bobbies were keeping track of us, Dollie. By then we were beginning to realize that they had been ordered to spy on our every meeting, to keep abreast of what we were up to. Two days
later, on 13th October, the WSPU held their demonstration as planned, but the bobbies were waiting and there were violent clashes. The police had instructions to keep the women out of the House.
Twenty-four women were arrested, including Emmeline Pankhurst, who was sentenced to three months in prison. Over the remaining months of 1908 suffragettes continued to attempt to gatecrash
Parliament. The police, both on foot and on horseback, began to respond with violence. Women were hurt. Many were arrested and imprisoned.

“Until last year, ‘Deeds not Words’ had become a passionate call but had remained a non-violent interpretation of what was needed to bring about change. Now we feel we must go
further,” said Miss Baker, “in order that the Cause be brought to everyone’s attention. We are frustrated by the deaf ears of our Parliament but we remain resolved. Our government
will hear what we have to say even if we must break the law to make them listen.”

Harriet went on to explain that some Union members have been disguising themselves as waitresses and messenger boys, jumping out of delivery vans, hanging from the windows of the House of
Commons, entering from the River Thames, haranguing MPs wherever and whenever they can. Nothing will stop them, not even the prospect of months behind bars.

“But if the law forces us to serve sentences, what we are insisting upon is to be classed as First Division prisoners. That is to say, political prisoners rather than common
criminals.”

“I don’t understand the difference,” I replied.

“Well,” said Miss Baker, “First Division status gives us certain rights or privileges that are denied to Second or Third Division offenders. For example, First Division
prisoners are not searched when admitted to jail. They can order in food if they wish to, and most do because prison food is terrible. They are allowed visitors, books, newspapers and writing
materials, and they are allowed to pen articles for publication. Also they are free to spend time with fellow inmates. Last year, when Christabel and Emmeline were in Holloway, they were separated.
Emmeline was tagged a ‘dangerous criminal’ and kept in solitary confinement. This meant no exercise, no chapel, no companionship, for days at a time during her sentence.”