Well as promised, here is my short piece based on the experiences of the Suffragettes. It was something I wanted to end the year with, given the recent historic commemorations.
This is it from me for this year, so I’ll wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Look out for lots more next year. Alternative Histories, A Tale of Two and the completion of my novel.
Remember
She slammed the door behind her, breathing heavily, and crashed her back up against the front door. Her heart boomed in her chest, and blood whooshed around her head. She felt dizzy, disorientated and a panic had risen in her. Then another thought jumped to the forefront of her mind. What if her parents were home? They shouldn’t be, she’d been relying on the fact, but what if for once they hadn’t taken their weekly turn around the park. She spun around listening, all was quiet, but she should check.
She had only taken one step away from the door when a loud knock startled her, so much, that it physically hurt her when she jumped. She froze. She didn’t want to open the door, but she was alarmed by the force of the knock, and instinctively knew that who ever was knocking wasn’t going away. At least she knew her parents were out, they would have appeared by now if not.
Opening the door just a couple of inches, she saw Mary stood there, red faced from running after her.
‘Ivy! What are you doing? You can’t run away now, we haven’t got long to get in place.’ The young woman was also breathing heavily, one hand steadying her wide brimmed hat.
‘I can’t do it Mary!’ She was close to tears. ‘I want to, and I thought I could, but now it’s come to it, I haven’t got the nerve. I just can’t…’ Ivy’s voice broke off, and she held a hand to her mouth to stop the cry that she could feel was building in her.
‘Just breathe.’
Mary squeezed into the tiny hallway, and closing the door behind her, she put her hands on Ivy’s shoulders. ‘I know what it’s like the first time, it’ scary, but trust me, once you get the first one out of the way, it does get easier.’
‘I can’t. I really thought I could, but when I saw all the others and all the police, the realisation hit me. What if I get arrested, what would my parents say? They would never forgive me. It’s been hard enough keeping my involvement secret from them, but if I was exposed in such a way it would kill them, I’m convinced of it. I can’t, I really…’
‘Breathe, Ivy, breathe. Remember why we’re doing this, the reason behind it. Did it all make sense when Mrs Pankhurst explained it?’
Ivy nodded, her wide eyes wet with tears.
‘Then think about that, think about that meeting, how you felt when she described what had happened on Black Friday. Remember the feeling in the pit of your stomach when you heard what the police did to our sisters that day. You felt outrage didn’t you, like us all?’ Wet eyes nodded again. ‘Then hold onto that feeling. Rather broken windows than broken promises remember? You won’t get hurt, or arrested, I promise. It’s your first time, we’ll look after you. But how will you feel if I go now and leave you, and you stay here and do nothing?’
‘I’d feel…well, I’d feel as though I’d let you down, I’d feel like a coward, I’d feel as if the cause wasn’t worth getting involved with, I’d feel…’
‘You’d wish you had done it, I promise you. Come, we still have time to get there, you can do this.’
Ivy sniffed, dried her eyes and straightened the green, purple and white sash that she was wearing. She pulled down her jacket and checked that her hat was straight. Mary was right, if she didn’t do this, she’d regret it. It was the 1st March 1912 and it was her duty to join with the other 149 women across London in the window smashing campaign. She gave a firm nod to Mary.
‘I’m ready.’
Mary grinned. ‘Right, let’s go, come on, we haven’t got long.’
It was Friday 1st March 1912, and Mary and Ivy were two of the one hundred and fifty women who took part in the Window Smashing Campaign; a tactical response to police violence, following Black Friday in November 1910. On that day, three hundred women were subjected to six hours of violence, some of it sexual, from police. The WSPU wanted to show that the government cared more about property than a woman’s life or political rights. If the government’s priority was a pane of glass, they reasoned, then that would become a target. This was just one of the many, many militant campaigns putting their ‘Deeds not Words’ motto into action.
But it wasn’t until 1918 that the Representation of the People Act was passed. This allowed women over the age of 30 who met a property qualification to vote. 8.5 million women met the criteria, but that was still only about two-thirds of the total population of women in the UK. It wasn’t until the Equal Franchise Act of 1928 that women over 21 were able to vote, and women finally achieved the same voting rights as men. This act increased the number of women eligible to vote to 15 million.
Millions of people, men and women today, will say they’re not interested in politics. But are they interested in how much that pint of beer is after work on a Friday, are they interested in how their child’s school is run, or how big their pay rise will be next year? Maybe they’re interested in how much it’s going to cost to go to Spain for two weeks next summer, or what shops they have on their High Street. Politics are an intrinsic part of our lives, regardless of our conscious views and/or political leanings. When it’s time to vote, man or woman, remember the things that matter to you, and vote. And if you’re a woman, even more so.
Remember.
Janet Stock 