My own story
they considered a peril to themselves and to all seafarers. They were
tried and found technically guilty, but because of the motive behind
their mutiny, were discharged without punishment. Perhaps more nearly
like our case than this was the case of the labour leader, Tom Mann,
who, shortly before, had written a pamphlet calling upon His Majesty's
soldiers not to fire upon strikers when commanded to do so by their
superior officers. From the Government's point of view this was a much
more serious kind of inciting than ours, because if it had been
responded to the authorities would have been absolutely crippled in
maintaining order. Besides, soldiers who refuse to obey orders are
liable to the death penalty. Tom Mann was given a sentence of six
months, but this was received, on the part of the Liberal Press and
Liberal politicians, with so much clamour and protest that the prisoner
was released at the end of two months. So, even on our way to prison, we
told one another that our sentences could not stand. Public opinion
would never permit the Government to keep us in prison for nine months,
or in the second division for any part of our term. We agreed to wait
seven Parliamentary days before we began a hunger strike protest.
It was very dreary waiting, those seven Parliamentary days, because we
could not know what was happening outside, or what was being talked of
in the House. We could know nothing of the protests and memorials that
were pouring in, on our behalf, from Oxford and Cambridge Universities,
from members of learned societies, and from distinguished men and women
of all professions, not only in England but in every country of Europe,
from the United States and Canada, and even from India. An international
memorial asking that we be treated as political prisoners was signed by
such great men and women as Prof. Paul Milyoukoff, leader of the
Constitutional Democrats in the Duma; Signor Enrico Ferri, of the
Italian Chamber of Deputies; Edward Bernstein, of the German Reichstag;
George Brandes, Edward Westermarck, Madame Curie, Ellen Key, Maurice
Maeterlinck, and many others. The greatest indignation was expressed in
the House, Keir Hardie and Mr. George Lansbury leading in the demand for
a drastic revision of our sentences and our immediate transference to
the first division. So much pressure was brought to bear that within a
few days the Home Secretary announced that he felt it his duty to
examine into the circumstances of the case without delay. He explained
that the prisoners had not at any time been forced to wear prison
clothes. Ultimately, which in this case means shortly before the
expiration of the seven Parliamentary days, we were all three placed in
the first division. Mrs. Pethick Lawrence was given the cell formerly
occupied by Dr. Jameson and I had the cell adjoining. Mr. Pethick
Lawrence, in Brixton Gaol, was similarly accommodated. We all had the
privilege of furnishing our cells with comfortable chairs, tables, our
own bedding, towels, and so on. We had meals sent in from the outside;
we wore our own clothing and had what books, newspapers and writing
materials we required. We were not permitted to write or receive letters
or to see our friends except in the ordinary two weeks' routine. Still
we had gained our point that suffrage prisoners were politicals.
We had gained it, but, as it turned out, only for ourselves. When we
made the inquiry, "Are all our women now transferred to the first
division?" the answer was that the order for transference referred only
to Mr. and Mrs. Pethick Lawrence and myself. Needless to say, we
immediately refused to accept this unfair advantage, and after we had
exhausted every means in our power to induce the Home Secretary to give
the other suffrage prisoners the same justice that we had received, we
adopted the protest of the hunger strike. The word flew swiftly through
Holloway, and in some mysterious way travelled to Brixton, to Aylesbury,
and Winson Green, and at once all the other suffrage prisoners followed
our lead. The Government then had over eighty hunger strikers on their
hands, and, as before, had ready only the argument of force, which means
that disgusting and cruel process of forcible feeding. Holloway became a
place of horror and torment. Sickening scenes of violence took place
almost every hour of the day, as the doctors went from cell to cell
performing their hideous office. One of the men did his work in such
brutal fashion that the very sight of him provoked cries of horror and
anguish. I shall never while I live forget the suffering I experienced
during the days when those cries were ringing in my ears. In her frenzy
of pain one woman threw herself from the gallery on which her cell
opened. A wire netting eight feet below broke her fall to the iron
staircase beneath, else she must inevitably have been killed. As it was
she was frightfully hurt.
The wholesale hunger strike created a tremendous stir throughout
England, and every day in the House the Ministers were harassed with
questions. The climax was reached on the third or fourth day of the
strike, when a stormy scene took place in the House of Commons. The
Under Home Secretary, Mr. Ellis Griffith, had been mercilessly
questioned as to conditions under which the forcible feeding was being
done, and as soon as this was over one of the suffragist members made a
moving appeal to the Prime Minister himself to order the release of all
the prisoners. Mr. Asquith, forced against his will to take part in the
controversy, rose and said that it was not for him to interfere with the
actions of his colleague, Mr. McKenna, and he added, in his own suave,
mendacious manner: "I must point out this, that there is not one single
prisoner who cannot go out of prison this afternoon on giving the
undertaking asked for by the Home Secretary." Meaning an undertaking to
refrain henceforth from militancy.
Instantly Mr. George Lansbury sprang to his feet and exclaimed: "You
know they cannot! It is perfectly disgraceful that the Prime Minister of
England should make such a statement."
Mr. Asquith glanced carelessly at the indignant Lansbury, but sank into
his seat without deigning to reply. Shocked to the depths of his soul by
the insult thrown at our women, Mr. Lansbury strode up to the
Ministerial bench and confronted the Prime Minister, saying again: "That
was a disgraceful thing for you to say, Sir. You are beneath contempt,
you and your colleagues. You call yourselves gentlemen, and you forcibly
feed and murder women in this fashion. You ought to be driven out of
office. Talk about protesting. It is the most disgraceful thing that
ever happened in the history of England. You will go down to history as
the men who tortured innocent women."
By this time the House was seething, and the indignant Labour member had
to shout at the top of his big voice in order to be heard over the din.
Mr. Asquith's pompous order that Mr. Lansbury leave the House for the
day was probably known to very few until it appeared in print next day.
At all events Mr. Lansbury continued his protest for five minutes
longer. "You murder, torture and drive women mad," he cried, "and then
you tell them they can walk out. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
You talk about principle--you talk about fighting in Ulster--you, too--"
turning to the Unionist benches--"You ought to be driven out of public
life. These women are showing you what principle is. You ought to
honour them for standing up for their womanhood. I tell you, Commons of
England, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves."
The Speaker came to Mr. Asquith's rescue at last and adjured Mr.
Lansbury that he must obey the Prime Minister's order to leave the
House, saying that such disorderly conduct would cause the House to lose
respect. "Sir," exclaimed Mr. Lansbury, in a final burst of righteous
rage, "it has lost it already."
This unprecedented explosion of wrath and scorn against the Government
was the sensation of the hour, and it was felt on all sides that the
release of the prisoners, or at least cessation of forcible feeding,
which amounted to the same thing, would be ordered. Every day the
Suffragettes marched in great crowds to Holloway, serenading the
prisoners and holding protest meetings to immense crowds. The music and
the cheering, faintly wafted to our straining ears, was inexpressibly
sweet. Yet it was while listening to one of these serenades that the
most dreadful moment of my imprisonment occurred. I was lying in bed,
very weak from starvation, when I heard a sudden scream from Mrs.
Lawrence's cell, then the sound of a prolonged and very violent
struggle, and I knew that they had dared to carry their brutal business
to our doors. I sprang out of bed and, shaking with weakness and with
anger, I set my back against the wall and waited for what might come. In
a few moments they had finished with Mrs. Lawrence and had flung open
the door of my cell. On the threshold I saw the doctors, and back of
them a large group of wardresses. "Mrs. Pankhurst," began the doctor.
Instantly I caught up a heavy earthenware water jug from a table hard
by, and with hands that now felt no weakness I swung the jug head high.
"If any of you dares so much as to take one step inside this cell I
shall defend myself," I cried. Nobody moved or spoke for a few seconds,
and then the doctor confusedly muttered something about to-morrow
morning doing as well, and they all retreated.
I demanded to be admitted to Mrs. Lawrence's cell, where I found my
companion in a desperate state. She is a strong woman, and a very
determined one, and it had required the united strength of nine
wardresses to overcome her. They had rushed into the cell without any
warning, and had seized her unawares, else they might not have succeeded
at all. As it was she resisted so violently that the doctors could not
apply the stethoscope, and they had very great difficulty in getting the
tube down. After the wretched affair was over Mrs. Lawrence fainted, and
for hours afterwards was very ill.
This was the last attempt made to forcibly feed either Mrs. Lawrence or
myself, and two days later we were ordered released on medical grounds.
The other hunger strikers were released in batches, as every day a few
more triumphant rebels approached the point where the Government stood
in danger of committing actual murder. Mr. Lawrence, who was forcibly
fed twice a day for more than ten days, was released in a state of
complete collapse on July 1st. Within a few days after that the last of
the prisoners were at liberty.
As soon as I was sufficiently recovered I went to Paris and had the joy
of seeing again my daughter Christabel, who, during all the days of
strife and misery, had kept her personal anxiety in the background and
had kept staunchly at her work of leadership. The absence of Mr. and
Mrs. Pethick Lawrence had thrown the entire responsibility of the
editorship of our paper, _Votes for Women_, on her shoulders, but as she
has invariably risen to meet new responsibility, she conducted the paper
with skill and discretion.
We had much to talk about and to consider, because it was evident that
militancy, instead of being dropped, as the other suffrage societies
were constantly suggesting, must go on very much more vigorously than
before. The struggle had been too long drawn out. We had to seek ways to
shorten it, to bring it to such a climax that the Government would
acknowledge that something had to be done. We had already demonstrated
that our forces were impregnable. We could not be conquered, we could
not be terrified, we could not even be kept in prison. Therefore, since
the Government had their war lost in advance, our task was merely to
hasten the surrender.