advance their cause’.^39 As the gap between the tactics of the militants and
constitutionalists irrevocably widened, concerns were expressed by women in
both camps, publicly and privately. Millicent Garrett Fawcett, addressing a
meeting on 3 March, made it clear that the NUWSS ‘stood exactly where it
had always stood, in very strong disapprobation of the use of physical force
and physical violence as means of political propaganda’.^40 Elizabeth Garrett
Anderson, who had once accompanied Emmeline Pankhurst in a demonstra-
tion to the House of Commons but had resigned from the WSPU over the
use of such violent tactics now wrote to Millicent, her sister, expressing
scathing comments about the once admired militant leader. ‘Katie Thompson
sent me rather a large cheque today for the Cause. I have written to ask if I
may hand it to you. I certainly do not mean to give it to Mrs. Pankhurst. I
think she & the P Lawrences have shown very little fortitude or dignity.’ The
arrest and sentencing to six weeks with hard labour of her daughter, Louie,
undoubtedly helped to fuel Elizabeth’s anger. Indeed, she was of the view that
the Government should have handled the matter differently. ‘If Mrs.
Pankhurst & the other leaders had been fined £3000 each & smaller fry like
Louie £1000 & upwards it wd pay for the windows & they wd all dislike it
every much.’^41
Emmeline had her own personal worries at this time. When she entered
Holloway she found herself in the anomalous position of being both a convicted
offender serving a two months’ prison sentence, and also a prisoner on remand,
waiting to be charged with a more serious offence. Refusing to give up her
watch and writing case, she told the governor that she and her two companions
expected more privileges this time, but none were initially given. On 6 March,
she was again in Bow Street Court where she was formally charged, together
with the Pethick Lawrences and Mabel Tuke, with having ‘wantonly conspired
and combined together, unlawfully and maliciously, to commit damage and
injury to an amount exceeding £5 to plate-glass windows’ and also with ‘unlaw-
fully aiding, abetting, counselling, and procuring the commission of offences
against the Malicious Injuries to Property Act’. Not in the best of health,
Emmeline’s voice broke as she explained that she was unwell; clinging to the
rails of the dock, she asked to whom she should apply for facilities for the prepa-
ration of her defence. However, she quickly regained her composure when the
warders began to lead the prisoners back to their cell, proudly commanding,
‘Don’t touch me!’^42 Back in her damp, sunless cell, away from the block where
other suffragettes were held, Emmeline’s illness soon developed into bronchitis.
The sound of imprisoned militants singing the ‘March of the women’ during the
dreary round of exercise, while Ethel Smyth, with hand thrust through the bars
of her cell window, conducted proceedings with a toothbrush, did little to raise
her spirits. But when her companions threatened a hunger strike unless they
were granted the privileges of political offenders, Emmeline rose to the occasion
and advised them to desist, on the understanding that such privileges would
soon be conferred.^43
THE WOMEN’S REVOLUTION