On Monday, November 27, I stayed in bed again, and at about 11 o’clock the doctor came and offered me vegetable soup from outside, and massage from my masseur-doctor, Mr. May. I said surely that would not be allowed! He told me that of course in the ordinary course of things it was not allowed, but, if I wished for it, he would see what he could do. I refused all these offers, which were not, so far as I knew, offered to the others. I heard after my release, how my dear friends had put themselves about to get me all these things, and how my servant had brought soup to the prison every day, which she had made. I had a tin of biscuits sent in to me and some orange sweets. As I was not feeling well, I was unable to eat these, but I managed to give a good many to the girls who washed my cell. I only once got a look into the general ward. I saw Mrs. Mansell-Moullin, Mrs. Mansel and others, but it did not seem to be the thing for the prisoners from the cells to go into the general ward. That night Mrs. Mansel came in to see me from there. She and some others were to be released the next day. She had suffered from influenza and had a bad time of it while she was in prison. We had a long talk, and she gave me The Man-made World, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, to read, as a wonderful book that had just come out. She was not allowed to take it out with her. The publisher, Mr. Fisher Unwin, had kindly sent me the book, but I had not yet had time to read it. I read it that night and found it all that she had said—a most remarkable book. It is dedicated to a man, showing that the woman’s movement has in it nothing, as is sometimes supposed, against men, but only against the vices of some men. In a chapter called “Crime and Punishment,” this passage struck me with intense truth: “Does a child offend? Punish it! Does a woman offend? Punish her! Does a man offend? Punish him! Does a group offend? Punish them! ‘What for?’ someone suddenly asks. ‘To make them stop doing it!’ ‘But they have done it.’ ‘To make them not do it again, then.’ ‘But they do it again and worse.’ ‘To prevent other people’s doing it, then.’ But it does not prevent them—the crime keeps on. What good is your punishment to crime? Its base, its prehistoric base, is simply retaliation.”
On Tuesday, November 28, I felt much better and went out to exercise in the morning. While there I was summoned to see the Governor. He told me that my fine had been paid anonymously and that I was free. Among my friends there is none that I can think of who would have paid my fine; my state of health, I suppose, after the forcible feeding, was “dangerous,” and it was thought safest to pay the fine “officially.” To my great surprise, the superintendent came with me to my flat. She was very dear but quite “official.” As I had packed up my things rather quickly, I felt ill and not inclined to talk much. She told me how very overworked the superintendent officers had been with the 220 Suffragette prisoners there were this time, she herself sometimes not getting to bed till one or two in the morning. She looked very tired and I felt very sorry for her. It seemed hard that, when they made us prisoners, so much extra work should fall upon the wardresses. When we reached the Duke’s Road, I did not like to ask her into my rooms, not knowing who would be there, so I said good-bye to her, kissed her, and begged her to take back the taxi at my expense. This, however, she refused to do; she preferred to go home by omnibus, and we parted at the front door. I went upstairs and found three of my friends. We were delighted to see each other, but they soon went away, and I rolled wearily into bed.
I frequently had to lie up during the winter and spring months that followed. On May 5, 1912, I had a stroke and my right arm was paralysed; also, slightly, my right foot and leg. I was taken from my flat to my sister Emily Lutyen’s house, and for many long months she and my mother and Dr. Marion Vaughan were kindness itself to me. From that day to this I have been incapacited for working for the Women’s Social and Political Union, but I am with them still with my whole soul.
And what is this which yet comes to us from the prisons? The torture of the “Cat-and-Mouse” Act and of forcible feeding! Oh! if only people could know what these things signify! But surely they must understand that they are barbarous practices such as we have not tolerated for long in our prisons. “Cat-and-Mouse” Act—what does it mean? The prisoner does not eat or drink, nothing to pass the lips; it may be three days, it may be a week, it may be nine days. Then the prisoner is let out, watched day and night, and taken back to prison, back to hunger and thirst, till she is again at death’s door. This they do twice, three times, four times, five times, till life is all but out. Not yet have the Government admitted that they will stop the “Cat-and-Mouse” torture short of death itself. And the forcible feeding—what is that? The only possible excuse for it is that it prolongs the prisoner’s sentence by so many days, so many weeks, and that is all. But heed what it is. I have described it exactly as it was done to me. See what it has meant in the recent case of Mary Richardson. It took eight wardresses and one man to overcome her. On two occasions it was said: “Twist her arms—the only way to unlock them.” They held her feet by pressing in the hollow of her ankles. Occasionally the doctor pressed her in the chest to hold her down. He announced that he was going to use the stomach tube. As he could not get through her teeth, he put his fingers to the extremity of her jaw, and with his finger-nail deliberately cut her gum and cheek until her mouth was bleeding badly. He then inserted the gag and stomach tube, but she was so choked by the process that he stopped the feeding, and said he would return to the nasal tube. This is inhuman, like the feeding of a beast—no, of an insentient thing. Where is the gain? A week or several weeks more of imprisonment, and you have let in torture to our form of punishment; yes, and repeated torture, for these prisoners are let out by the “Cat-and-Mouse” Act, and, on those ghastly terms, the police will mount guard on them to seize them again if, according to their judgment, they have regained sufficient fitness.
And why are these women imprisoned? Because they and many thousands, or rather several millions, of women with them, have asked for the vote, but the Government would not give it to them. For forty-five years women have supported their demand in Parliament for enfranchisement with ever increasing vigour. Petitions, processions, meetings and resolutions all over the country were infinitely greater in number than have been achieved for any other reform. When the Conciliation Bill was framed, women waited to see what the Government would do for them; the vote on the second reading of the Bill, for the second time, was immense. Women listened to the pledges of the Government and they seemed to hold out a certainty of the vote. Now, when these promises have all been broken, women have taken to burning empty houses, railway stations and stacks, though they have respected life and refrained from wounding, as men would do for far less a cause. Yes, and they will burn buildings until they are treated rationally as an equal part of the human race.
I hear the cry go up from all parts of the country, “How long? How long?” The time is fully ripe, when will women be represented in Parliament by the vote, equally with men?
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, LONDON AND TONBRIDGE.