Suffragism turns nasty!
From Aristocrat to Revolutionary - the letters of Lady Charlotte Fitzgerald
Volume 1 1905-1919
Published by the Limerick Workers Press 1955
Ballincarron House, Limerick
Mrs Cecilia Connolly
McAllister House
Otago
New Zealand
December 5th 1910
My Dearest Cissy,
I know my last letter to you is almost certainly still at sea, but so much has happened since I wrote that I am simply bursting with news and cannot wait.
Mother has I know written to tell you of our return to Ireland, I'm afraid poor Father found my involvement with the suffragists too much to bear, especially after your being caught up in the vivisection protestations over that poor dog in the Medical School.[1] Of course you have no need of suffragists, since women have had the vote in New Zealand since 1893, but we are still not not so advanced I am afraid back home. It looked for a while last year as if there might be a change and a Bill was in Parliament. It might have passed too, if that appalling Mr Asquith had not reneged on his promises to Mrs Pankhurst.
I'm sure you have by now heard about the women's protest outside Parliament. You won't know however that I WAS THERE!!! Yes, your meek little sister Charlotte! I was carrying my purple banner,waving my flags and shouting along with thousands of other women. I'm sure poor father would have dropped dead on the spot to see me, but it was SO exciting, at least at first.
I fear I am getting ahead of myself. However, before I say more, I must ask you not to breathe a word of what I am to write, even to dear George.
Everything was very carefully planned. There were lots of meetings around London beforehand where Mrs P or one of her daughters gave us details of the plan and how it would all work out. We were all to dress in our finery to avert suspicion and to arrive in the area of Parliament Square in small groups. On the signal, we were simply to walk forwards into the Square. It seems though that the government were forewarned, because there were lots of policemen waiting for us.
At first they were quite amused as we walked towards them arm in arm and singing. Then they realised that even 5000 policemen cannot stand against 30000 determined women [2]. They started to become rougher in their dealings, charging into the line of women and breaking it apart, only to find themselves surrounded and having to struggle free again. We offered no violence to them, we simply walked forward. In return I am afraid we were were badly treated. I saw women knocked to the ground by punches and by blows of the truncheon, there to be kicked!
Bystanders took advantage of the disorder too, laying hold of women, mishandling them in most indecent ways. One such creature tried to grab me, but I am afraid to say I and Harriet, who stayed by my side throughout this sorry affair, surrendered our feminine instincts and beat him with the sticks of our banners to such effect that he fled.
Others were not so lucky. I saw another woman dragged away down a side street, the beasts taking her tearing at her clothes as they took her, she screaming all the while. The police who saw it simply laughed and returned to bludgeoning the poor women before them.
O Cissie, I have never seen such things! I could not believe that Englishmen, worse policemen could behave so. I felt as if I was in the midst of a crowd of wild animals, for as the hours wore on, yes my dearest, hours, many of the women involved also descended into some lower order. I saw women howling like beasts as they set about some policeman, while a few feet away a group of police were manhandling a woman outrageously, tearing her clothes from her very body.
The battle, for that is what it was, lasted from 11 in the morning until almost 5 in the evening, without break and without quarter on either side. In the end of course, with their greater strength and greater willingness to use brute force, the police prevailed. Across the whole of Parliament Square, women lay collapsed on the ground, many bleeding, some senseless, lying amidst torn clothing and broken and bloody banners, ignored by the police as they tended to their own injured.
Something changed in England on that day, Cissie.
As for myself, I resolved that this could not go on. I could no longer support the Pankhursts in what seemed like a quest to achieve ever greater levels of violence, arson and destruction. Indeed on the very next day Downing Street was the scene of almost a repeat of the Battle of Parliament Square, while that evening windows were shattered across the City, in gentlemen's clubs, political offices and many other buildings. There was even an attempt to burn down Westminster Hall.
On my return home, battered and worn, Father was not amused. He had tolerated to a degree my spouting “suffragist cant” as he called it, but he was not willing to see his daughter “brawling in the street like a common criminal”. He became much less angry the next day when he saw for himself the same behaviour by police in Downing Street, but he immediately made plans to move the whole household back to Limerick regardless of plans for the Season.
I must confess that I did not care about missing the Season. I have found that I have less and less in common with the empty headed girls flocking to be presented. Indeed after the Battle, I found myself to have more in common with my maid Carson, who tended to my wounds and understood the loss I felt that matters had sunk so low.
I became of a mind that so long as women's suffrage was presented as a War between men and women, nothing would be achieved except at great cost to both sexes. I resolved to look for something that would bring the sexes together in search of a greater common good. I know that I am not alone, that other members of our Movement were equally alarmed by what happened on that day and since. We will I am sure, one day soon, find a way forward in harmony between men and women and between all classes, something alas that Mrs P and her daughters are unlikely to find to their taste.
I will write more tomorrow, I am so exhausted by recalling that awful day that I can do no more for now.
…
[1] The Brown Dog affair was a political controversy about vivisection that raged in Edwardian England from 1903 until 1910. It involved the infiltration of University of London medical lectures by Swedish women activists, pitched battles between medical students and the police, police protection for the statue of a dog, a libel trial at the Royal Courts of Justice, and the establishment of a Royal Commission to investigate the use of animals in experiments.
[2] Estimates of the numbers present vary. It is unclear whether Lady Charlotte figures are hyperbole or she has some intelligence of actual numbers from her then involvement with the WSPU.
META COMMENT: Apart from the invention of Lady Charlotte, there isn't much in this that didn't actually occur in OTL. The Battle of Parliament Square was pretty much as described as was Downing Street a day later. If anything Downing Street was worse in that it involved direct confrontations between Asquith and the suffragists and later with Churchill, who behaved very badly towards a friend of his wife, to the extent that a few weeks later someone attempted to horsewhip him while on a train journey because of his behaviour.See Chapter Three of Dangerfield in the bibliography. It is the outcome in the last few sentences that will be important.