As the time of the assembling of the court, 10 o’clock, drew near we waited in different parts of a large and rambling building. At last we were conveyed, through what seemed an underground court, to the foot of a staircase that led right up into the prisoner’s dock.
I was the first of the Suffragettes to be taken up. Mr. Shepherd Little was the magistrate; he seemed to be thoroughly out of temper. They took only two or three minutes convicting me. When the policeman had done his work of charging me with urging the crowd to follow me to the Governor’s house, with refusing to desist when called upon by the police, and with throwing a “missile” (small stone wrapped in paper), I put in, “I had three stones upon me which I let fall in the Governor’s garden. A man in the crowd ran past me just as I was letting go the third—it fell on his shoulder; I apologised to him.”
On the strength of its being my first imprisonment, I was sentenced to a fortnight, 3rd Division, with option of a fine. Just when I had left the court I was called back. The magistrate thought I ought to have a longer sentence, thanks to my having thrown stones, but the clerk thought not, and in the little altercation he got the best of it.
The women of last night were waiting on the stairs. “How long have you got?” they all said to me. “Ah! well, buck up,” they added on hearing of fourteen days. Miss Elsie Howey, with the admission of her former imprisonments, got six weeks, and Mrs. Nugent was, to our great joy, released. The policeman downstairs told me that hard labour always accompanied the 3rd Division sentences, unless stated to the contrary.
CHAPTER XIII
WALTON GAOL, LIVERPOOL: MY THIRD IMPRISONMENT
Elsie Howey and I waited together at the Bridewell Police Station for the greater part of that day (Saturday, January 15). Towards evening they took us away in a partition van, alone, to Walton Green Gaol, we arrived at about 7 o’clock at night. The other prisoners must have journeyed here when we did, though by a different van, for we were all together again when we were to give our names, vocation, etc., to the prison warders. We stood up by a wall, all in a row, and waited our turn. The prisoner with the white boa and the apparently white gown, I was able to see closely and by a high light. The boa was in imitation fur and extremely dirty, the white dress was of some thin cotton, nearly transparent; it was open on her chest and she seemed to have hardly any clothes underneath. I did not like to think what she must have suffered this wintry day, in and out of the icy cold police station cells. The effect of the drink was wearing off, and she waved her head about as though she had a very bad headache; all her cheerfulness had gone. Poor little thing, I felt extremely sorry for her, she had been given plenty of the best brandy and she had done what was wanted of her; the next day she found herself in prison. When her imprisonment was over, in all probability, to go the same road of drunkenness and prostitution would seem the only one open to her.
There were several other prisoners besides those we had seen before. Some were so familiar with the place that they reeled off their age, religion, birthplace, calling, without waiting to be asked, and then walked through into a large hall in which were the waiting cubicles. Suddenly I felt awed, a feeling of supremest pity almost took my breath away. Passing in front of me into the larger hall was a woman of great beauty, her features were intensely refined, and in every part of her there seemed to be some great determination, not in respect of the prison she was in now, that was only part of it, but with regard to her life of shame that went before; the whole face and figure were virtuous and good. The other woman who had come over from Ireland was not there, but this was the one, I felt quite sure, who was “wanted by the police.” I had not heard her tell anything to the officer, I had not seen her till that moment, and I never saw her again, but I shall never forget her face which will rest always on my memory, beautiful, commanding, and of an absorbing sadness.
It was our turn at last. We gave the required details, and then Elsie Howey said that we should refuse all food and all the prison rules. “We are sorry if it will give trouble; we shall give as little as possible; but our fast is against the Government, and we shall fight them with our lives, not hurting anyone else.” The wardress gave no answer, but with a wave of her hand showed us towards the cubicles. Before we went in there we were separated; we had to part, and I never saw Elsie again till long after I came out. A wardress came and showed me to a room with two other officers, the place where I was to undress. I said that I did not bow to the imprisonment and so would not undress myself, whereupon a wardress began to pull my things off, but I showed them this was not from disagreeableness but only through the prison strike. On taking out of my pocket a clean handkerchief I noticed that it had the initials “C. L.” still upon it, and when next there came a reel of cotton with the name “Lytton” written quite distinctly round the top, I felt overwhelmed with horror. Scarcely knowing what I was about, I seized them both in my hand and put them on the fire which burnt in a stove near where I was standing. The next moment I thought I had done wrong and that the attention of the officers would inevitably be called to my action, but they seemed not to have noticed and never said anything, so I thanked my stars that I was safe. The look of Jane Warton was still comic in the extreme, the two wardresses laughed as they undressed her. Her glasses were the subject of excessive care and she was allowed to keep them with her. I would most gladly have given them up, for they hurt the bridge of my nose which was far too wide for them, but it was good, of course, to help the disguise for some while longer. I had my bath, and was put into a 3rd Division dress of coarse, brown serge, and my cap and apron were tied on. I was put before a large basket of worn boots, not in pairs, and told to pick out two for myself. I chose the largest I saw, but they were not nearly big enough, and it was only after a tremendous effort that I got my feet into them. I was then taken to the large hall and put into a cubicle. These were like cupboards, without ceiling, giving on to the hall for light and air, so that they had not the stuffiness of the cells. By this time I was dropping with fatigue, the seat seemed there for me to sleep on, and being alone was immensely restful. But the sounds of the other prisoners made it too painful for rest; one of them sobbed all the time, and soon I saw we were here only to be inspected. The door opened and a wardress put in a pair of sheets for me to take to the cell. Then the Matron came, a capable-looking woman, but severe. She spoke to me of the hunger-strike, and of how very wrong it was. I said that of course without an object it was very wrong, but the Government had been petitioned in every other way, we thought they would not like hunger-strikes for ever, that now there were still comparatively few, but later there would, if necessary, be many more; that feeding by force was horrible, besides it did not meet the difficulty of keeping the women in prison. When one saw what the wrongs of women were to redress, it seemed a little thing that some women should die for the sake of the others. She did not stay to prolong the discussion.