The fourteen women who had been sentenced on the day of her release and heard the news of what she had done as they were being hurried to gaol decided to follow her example. On reaching Holloway they at once informed the officials that they would refuse to deliver up any of their private property, to undress and to put on the prison clothing, to obey the rule of silence, to perform prison tasks and to eat the prison food and that in every way that was open to them they would protest against the regulations. The Governor agreed for the time being to allow them to retain their own clothing, but told them that when the visiting magistrates next came round they would be charged before them with mutiny. The women then addressed petitions to the Home Secretary, demanding that, in accordance with international custom, they should receive the treatment due to political prisoners, and decided to wait a day or two for a reply before beginning the hunger strike.
The Suffragettes had always condemned the inadequate ventilation of the cells which they felt to be exceedingly injurious to the health of every prisoner. On those burning summer days the stifling heat became almost unbearable and after several times appealing that more fresh air should be allowed to them, the women at last determined to break some of the panes.
On Wednesday morning Christabel and Mrs. Tuke, anxious for news of their comrades, went up to Holloway and obtained admittance to a house opposite the gaol. There from a back window, they called to the prisoners, who eagerly stretched out their arms to them through the broken panes, and in a few shouted words told them of what had taken place. The same afternoon, a committee of visiting magistrates arrived in the prison and sentenced the Suffragettes to from seven to ten days' close solitary confinement. The women were then all dragged away to the punishment cells. Miss Florence Spong, one of the prisoners, describes her experience thus:
Entering a dim corridor on either side of which were cells, I was conducted to the last one and the double iron doors were clanged and locked behind me; the cell damp, icy cold and dark struck terror in me, but the principle for which I was fighting helped me to overcome my fears. In the dim light I discovered a plank bed fixed in one corner of the cell about four inches from the ground, with a wooden pillow at the head. Opposite was a tree stump, clamped to the wall for a seat, and in another corner was a small shelf with a filthy rubber tumbler full of water. High above the bed was a small window and through the tiny panes of opaque glass a faint light filtered. Realising how quickly the light was waning I hurriedly examined my cell. I discovered two pools of water near the head of the bed which never dried up. There was a small square of glass high above the door and through this the light of a tiny gas jet flickered from the corridor outside. This was lit at five o'clock and just enabled me to see the objects in my cell. At eight o'clock three wardresses brought me a mattress and some rugs, and again the doors clanged to and I was alone. I will not speak of that night; I leave it for your imagination. At six the next morning I was told to get up, my mattress and bed clothes were taken from my cell and a tiny bowl of water was brought me to wash in, and that was the only wash I was allowed every twenty-four hours.
"It is wrong that there should be such places to-day," Miss Florence Cooke told the Governor, "they would drive any ordinary prisoner mad," and she tells us:
I saw all means of protest had been taken from me except one, and that was to do what Miss Wallace Dunlop had done, to refuse to take any food. The hardest time was the first twenty-four hours. Milk was brought to me which I felt I could have taken very willingly, but I put it from me. Then the wardress brought me in some food. I said to her, "Will you please take that out?" She refused. I therefore took the tin in which the food was and rolled it out of the cell and what was in it went upon the ground.
The hunger strikers waving to Christabel from their prison cells, July, 1909
This is important, because Mr. Gladstone afterwards charged the Suffragettes with having thrown food at the wardresses.
Miss Cooke goes on: