So these critics agreed that the policy would "be possible with an electorate of heroes, but not with average men." For this reason it must fail.
But in spite of these gloomy predictions the Women's Social and Political Union held to its course, and did not swerve one hair's-breadth from the plan of campaign that it had laid down.
An anti-Government election policy has frequently been employed by men politicians; notably by the Irish under Parnell. In the course of the agitation for the repeal of the Contagious Diseases Acts, Mrs. Josephine Butler and her colleagues fought the Government at many by-elections, but with that exception an anti-Government by-election policy had never been adopted by women. In following it out now, when many members, even of our own Committee doubted its wisdom, and few were really enthusiastic in its favour, Christabel Pankhurst, its originator in this case, gave evidence of that keen political insight and that indomitable courage and determination which are so essential to real leadership, and which have since enabled her to steer the Suffragette ship through so many dangerous shoals and quicksands.
On August 14th the three Suffragettes, "Mr. Asquith's Prisoners," as they had been called, were released from Holloway. They were all cheerfully and bravely uncomplaining. Mrs. Knight and Annie Kenney were both white and feeble-looking but only spoke of their anxiety to be of service to the cause, whilst Mrs. Sparborough, though she had got rheumatism through being made to scrub the stone floor of her cell without a kneeler, made light of the imprisonment, saying that she had felt peaceful and happy and had sung hymns to herself to drive her loneliness away.
And now great meetings of welcome to the prisoners were being held in London and Provincial campaigns were being organised in various parts of the country. Everywhere that the fiery torch of zeal and enthusiasm was carried there was warm sympathy from the masses of the people and the slumbering desire for enfranchisement amongst all classes of women began to awake. Mrs. Lawrence was holding a series of fine meetings in Yorkshire. Annie Kenney, after addressing vast and enthusiastic crowds in Lancashire, made her way up to Scotland and with Theresa Billington went on to Mr. Asquith's constituency of East Fife. Aroused by their speeches the women here demanded that The Chancellor of the Exchequer should receive them in deputation. He judged it wisest to consent, but protected himself from meeting the two ex-prisoners by stipulating that only residents in the constituency should be present. In his reply to this deputation he declared himself to be still an opponent of their cause. "Then there is no hope for women?" asked one of them; but he only answered "Women must work out their own salvation."
In Wales the flag of the W. S. P. U. was being hoisted by Mary Gawthorpe,[12] another new recruit, a winsome, merry little creature, with bright hair and laughing hazel eyes, a face fresh and sweet as a flower, the dainty ways of a little bird, and having with all so shrewd a tongue and so sparkling a fund of repartee, that she held dumb with astonished admiration, vast crowds of big, slow-thinking workmen and succeeded in winning to good-tempered appreciation the stubbornest opponents. Whilst she was in his constituency, it was announced that Mr. Samuel Evans who had "talked out" the Votes-for-Women resolution on the twenty-ninth of April, and who was now appointed a Law Officer of the Crown, was coming to speak to his constituents. Miss Gawthorpe determined to talk him out as he had "talked out" the Women's resolution. She therefore attended two of his meetings and at the first of these was dragged out by the stewards, but at the second a strong force of men gathered round to protect her and insisted that she should be heard. The Chairman then tried to checkmate her by playing the Welsh National Anthem, but little Mary won all hearts by leading off the singing, and so poor a figure did Mr. Samuel Evans cut that Mrs. Evans was said to have declared that next time there was a Women's Suffrage debate in the House of Commons she should keep her husband at home.
In London the work was being organised by Christabel, who amongst other things was conducting an active campaign in Battersea, the constituency represented by Mr. John Burns, the President of the Local Government Board. The income of the Union was still very small, and everything had to be done with the strictest possible economy. The money for meetings in halls was only forthcoming on very special occasions, and wherever possible the expenses of printing and advertising were curtailed. A large number of meetings were held at street corners, with a chair borrowed from a neighbouring shop as platform, and, in order to collect a crowd, my sister started the custom of ringing a large muffin bell. One of those who had been greatly impressed by the work of our Union was Miss Elizabeth Robins, the novelist, whose impressions of these early days of the movement are so graphically described in her novel, The Convert.
The following extract from this book is a very truthful picture of a typical Battersea meeting:
In Battersea you go into some modest little restaurant, and you say, "Will you lend me a chair?" This is a surprise for the restaurateur.... Ernestine carries the chair into the road and plants it in front of the fire station. Usually there are two or three helpers. Sometimes Ernestine if you please, carries the meeting entirely on her own shoulders—those same shoulders being about so wide. Yes, she is quite a little thing. If there are helpers she sends them up and down the street sowing a fresh crop of handbills. When Ernestine is ready to begin she stands on that chair in the open street and, as if she were doing the most natural thing in the world, she begins ringing that dinner bell. Naturally people stop and stare and draw nearer. Ernestine tells me that Battersea has got so used now to the ding-dong and to associating it with "our meetings," that as far off as they hear it the inhabitants say, "It's the Suffragettes, come along." And from one street and another the people emerge laughing and running. Of course, as soon as there is a little crowd that attracts some more, and so the snowball grows.... Last night she was wonderful.... When she wound up "The motion is carried; the meeting is over!" and climbed down off her perch, the mob cheered and pressed round her so close that I had to give up trying to join her. I extricated myself and crossed the street. She is so little that unless she is on a chair she is swallowed up. For a long time I could not see her. I did not know whether she was taking the names and addresses of the people who wanted to join the Union, or whether she had slipped away and gone home, till I saw practically the whole crowd moving off with her up the street. I followed for some distance on the off side. She went calmly on her way—a tiny figure in a long grey coat between two "helpers," a Lancashire cotton spinner and the Cockney working-woman and that immense tail of boys and men (and a few women) all following after—quite quiet and well-behaved—just following because it didn't occur to them to do anything else. In a way she was still exercising her hold over her meeting. I saw presently there was one person in front of her; a great big fellow who looked like a carter. He was carrying home the chair.... Oh, if you could only see her! Trudging along, apparently quite oblivious of her quaint following, dinner bell in one hand, leather case piled high with leaflets on the other arm. Some of the leaflets sliding off and tumbling onto the pavement. Then dozens of hands helped her to recover her property....