The Suffragette: The History of the Women's Militant Suffrage Movement, 1905-1910

by E. Sylvia Pankhurst

She next asked Mr. Gladstone to define the word "rush." "I can hardly give any definition of it, but a rush implies force," he said, growing more comfortable again. "Do you deny that it involves speed rather than force?" she asked, and he replied smiling and putting his head knowingly on one side, "Speed generally involves force." This argument continued for some time. Then she asked: "Were you anticipating that you would be in bodily danger as a consequence of the issue of this Bill?" "I did not think of it at all. I did not think whether the possibility existed or not," he answered, squaring his shoulders and throwing out his chest. She waved her hand. "You are like us, above these considerations. You were not in fear?" "No, not at all," he answered, looking pleased with himself. "Did you ever think that public property was in danger as a consequence of this bill having been issued?" "I thought it quite possible," he said a little more seriously, "I thought there would be danger from the crowds." "Then you were agreeably disappointed on the morning of the 14th, when you found no harm had been done?" "No, I was not. The police measures were sufficient to stop any serious accident or danger," he said proudly and magisterially.

She kept putting questions of this kind, first in one form then in another until he began to grow tired and puzzled, and was evidently in fear of making some unwise admission. "Did you feel that but for the line of police protecting you, the crowd would have rushed upon you and attacked you?" she asked at last with expressive emphasis. "The police were not protecting me," he answered with an air of offended dignity; "I felt no personal fear." "Did any other person seem in danger of attack?" "The police gave them very little chance." "What made you think them a dangerous or hostile crowd?" "Of course, I am quite accustomed to seeing these crowds. I know what has happened before." "What has happened?" "Disorderly scenes." Mr. Gladstone was standing up now and looking quite severe. "What harm have they done?" "Very little, as it happened." "What harm have they attempted to do?" "That is not for me to answer." "Have they attempted to do more than secure an interview with the Prime Minister?" Mr. Gladstone turned to the Magistrate, who said, "That is not a question for him to answer."

"We will go back to the 13th," she said. "Do you think anyone was obstructed in their passage to the House of Commons?" "I cannot speak for other people." "You saw no attempt to waylay Members of Parliament or Cabinet Ministers?" Her questions continued thick and fast. He admitted that he had seen no one waylaid or injured and no harm done, but took refuge in the assertion: "There was a great crowd." "But a crowd assembles when the King goes to open Parliament," she said. He answered crossly, "Presumably, they were waiting to 'rush' the House of Commons," and added later that he had heard that certain police constables had been injured, and that there had been thirty-seven arrests and over forty complaints of losses of purses and watches. "Comparing that with the net result of a Lord Mayor's Show crowd or any sort of procession, really less harm resulted?" she asked, but he gave no reply and her questioning as to how many policemen were on duty and what the cost had been to the country were suppressed by Mr. Curtis Bennett.

Presently Christabel asked, "How do you define a political offence?" Mr. Gladstone leant over the edge of the box and smiled again. "I wish you would give me a good definition," he said, in friendly confidential tones, "I am often asked that question in the House of Commons." "Well, with the Magistrate's permission, I will," she answered. "A political offence is one committed in connexion with political disturbances and with a political motive." "I do not think that a sufficient explanation," he said with a challenging air. "If I am at liberty after this day's proceedings are over, I shall have pleasure in sending you a fuller account." Then she asked, "Do you remember that when a deputation of women went to the House of Commons to see the Prime Minister, instead of being allowed to enter, they were arrested?" "I have no immediate recollection of that, only a general recollection," was the Home Secretary's reply given with a lofty manner. When the question was put again in a slightly different form, the Magistrate interrupted: "That does not arise on the issue." "It throws a light on it though," said Miss Pankhurst. "Please do obey; otherwise I shall have to stop it altogether," said Mr. Curtis Bennett, and one heard a note of regret in his voice. He evidently enjoyed the discomfort of the Cabinet Ministers and the spectacle of their professing blankest ignorance on well-known points. "I have given you much more licence than I should give Counsel," he urged.

"In the action we took on the 13th is it within your knowledge that we were acting on advice given by yourself?" Christabel asked. "I wish you would take my advice," Mr. Gladstone answered. "We are trying to take it," she said quietly. "What did you mean when you said that men had used force majeure in demanding the vote?" "If you hand me the speech, I daresay I can tell you."

She held out a copy of it towards him but Mr. Curtis Bennett interposed. "How is this material to what Mr. Gladstone saw? You are cross-examining your own witness, Miss Pankhurst, and you must not do that." "May I not ask any explanation whatsoever as to the counsel given to us?" she asked with a persuasive air. "No, you may not," the Magistrate replied sternly. "We never have any opportunity. May I ask whether he made certain statements?" Mr. Curtis Bennett smiled and pretended not to notice, and Christabel eagerly turned to Mr. Gladstone, reading from the printed copy of his speech. "Did you say it was impossible not to sympathise with the eagerness and passion which have actuated so many women on this subject?" "Yes," he replied. "Did you say men had had to struggle for centuries for their political rights?" "Yes." "Did you say that they had to fight from the time of Cromwell and that for the last 130 years the warfare had been perpetual?" His smile was growing broader and broader. "Yes," he said. "Did you say that on this question experience showed that predominance of argument alone—and you believed that that had been attained—was not enough to win the political day? Did you say that?" "Yes." "Did you say that we are in the stage of what is called 'academic discussion,' which serves for the ventilation of pious opinions and is accompanied, you admit, by no effective action on the part of the Government, or of political parties or of voters throughout the country?" "Yes." "Did you say that members of the House of Commons reflect the opinion of the country, not only in regard to the number of people outside, but in regard to the intensity of the feeling in support of a movement, and that the Government must necessarily be a reflex of the party which brought it into being?" "Yes." "Did you say this: 'There comes a time when political dynamics are far more important than political arguments?' You said that?" "Yes." "And that 'men had learned this lesson?'" "Yes." "And that they know the necessity for 'demonstrating that force majeure which actuates and arms a Government for effective work'?" "Yes, I think it was a most excellent speech!" he said nodding his head and smiling up at the prisoner evidently regarding the whole affair as a very good joke. The court laughed too, but for a different reason, and the Magistrate raised no objection.

"I agree with you," said Christabel, smiling demurely, "Did you say that this was the task before the leaders of this great movement?" "Yes." "Did you speak of people assembled in tens of thousands in the 'thirties, 'sixties and 'eighties, and do you know that we have done it in Hyde Park, and on Woodhouse Moor and other places?" "Yes." "Why don't you give us the vote then?" she said with quick emphasis, and the court laughed again. "Are you aware of the words your distinguished father spoke on the matter?" she continued. "I heard the quotation." "Do you assent to the proposition he laid down?" "Yes." "Then you cannot condemn our methods any more," she said triumphantly. "That is hardly a matter for my opinion," he said, suddenly remembering that he must preserve his dignity. "It is a very interesting question, though. I need not trouble you further," she concluded.

Now Mrs. Pankhurst rose and the witness turned to her quite cheerfully. "I want to ask Mr. Gladstone," she said, "if he is aware that the consequence of our being ordered to be bound over is that we cannot consent and that we shall go to prison?" "That is a matter of law, and not for the witness," interposed the Magistrate. "If that happens to us, if we go to prison, I hope that Mr. Gladstone will see that we go as political offenders," she said, but again the Magistrate intervened. "Do you think we should be likely to break the law if we had the same means of representation as men?" she then asked, and Mr. Gladstone replied with pompous amiability. "I am sure your motive is excellent, but that is a hypothetical question which I cannot answer."

Mrs. Pankhurst was irritated. "I will ask Mr. Gladstone," she said, "whether, in his opinion we should be treated as ordinary criminals, searched, stripped and put into cells as though we were drunkards and pickpockets?" "You must not put that question," said the Magistrate. The case amused him, but he did not like the unpleasant side of it put forward.

This concluded the evidence of the Cabinet Ministers, and as they were about to leave the court, Christabel graciously said, "May we tender our warm thanks to these two gentlemen who have done us the favour of coming forward to give evidence?" She then called a number of witnesses in support of her contention that the crowd on the night of the 13th was an orderly one and that no violence was done. Amongst these were Colonel Massy, formerly of the Sixth Dragoon Guards, Lady Constance Lytton, and Mr. Nevinson, a well-known leader-writer, and war correspondent. Mrs. May, another witness, said that in her opinion the word "rush" had been used on the famous handbill in a sense similar to that conveyed by the expression "A dash to the North Pole," explaining, that though an attempt to reach the North Pole is described as a "dash," it is, in reality, the slowest possible mode of travel. In the same way she imagined that the public had been asked to "rush" the House of Commons into passing a Votes for Women measure.