birmingham – Laugh a Defiance

Pinafores, fancywork and kittens: what the Birmingham suffragettes brought to the Women’s Exhibition

May 6, 2019June 7, 2019 laughadefianceLeave a comment

In early to mid-1909 the WSPU was on the cusp of its first transition into the ‘militancy’ it is now remembered for; soon words would really be eschewed for deeds as heckling politicians evolved into stone-throwing outside political meetings. Yet, the WSPU was still a nascent political organisation in many regions. Militancy needed to be bolstered by mustering support amongst local communities and, more importantly, raising funds.

The WSPU had established a firm presence in Birmingham a year or so previously. Thanks to the fundraising efforts of local members, permanent headquarters had opened in October 1908 on Ethel Street, near to New Street station. In March 1909, the movement was really beginning to establish traction. Under the direction of Gladice Keevil, the organising employees were making inroads locally and finding support throughout middle- and working-class communities. That month, Christabel Pankhurst spoke at a meeting in the Town Hall and the WSPU gained 50 new members. (1)

ce8ede42f036b7d5b98bbe8e7e34da84 — Gladice Keevil in 1908

This influx of members would have proven particularly fruitful. Since the beginning of the year, local branches had been busily preparing for the Women’s Exhibition, to be held for two weeks in May at the Prince’s Skating Rink, Knightsbridge. Different regions would have stalls from which they could sell donated goods. The Midlands was to have two of the 6ft by 3ft tables, one for the Birmingham branch and the other a joint effort by other areas, including Malvern, Cradley and Stoke-on-Trent.

Joint Exhibition Secretaries Edith Kerwood and Lucy Calway presided over a successful drive for donations. These poured in from the member base. Wealthy women donated high quality second-hand clothes and homeware, including a silk blouse worth 15s, silk dresses (one from Japan) and a tablecloth from India. The second stall was stocked with a variety of Leadless Glaze pottery pieces and a purple, white and green china tea set.

There is something particularly striking about the Birmingham accounts of donated items published throughout March and April in the ‘Local Notes’ and ‘Campaign in the Country’ sections of Votes for Women. Many of the Midlands women made use of their skills to create items to sell. A large amount of embroidered fancywork was collected. Laura Coxon made a purple, white and green silk cushion, Florence Relph dressed 20 ‘“Suffragette” dolls’ in the same colours and Constance Prior made purses and workbags (no prizes for guessing her chosen colour scheme). A Miss Steen created some metal artwork samples and offered to take costume jewellery commissions from customers (‘in the colours’, naturally). After Bertha Ryland, a very wealthy (and generous) Birmingham woman procured a sovereigns worth of material, ‘sewing meetings’ were held in Ethel Street, during which ‘a group of energetic workers’ set to creating a batch of pinafores.

The-Womens-Exhibition-1909-by-Christina-Broom — The Women’s Exhibition – Prince’s Skating Rink, Knightsbridge, May 1909. Photo: Christina Broom.

The devotion to the WSPU evident in the women’s choice of colour scheme seems quaint, but it was also part of a concerted merchandising effort that was modelled from the top of the organisation. The Women’s Exhibition was more than a fundraising effort, it was also a spectacle and advertisement for the suffragettes. Sylvia Pankhurst used the colour scheme to decorate the Prince’s Ice Rink inside and out. The external walls were covered in garlands and purple white and green bannerets, whilst inside, the walls were decorated with painted designs; a repeated pattern of ivy, grapes, roses and butterflies surrounded doves and the prison arrow. Even the tickets matched; those who came for the opening ceremony (2 shillings sixpence) had purple, whilst day tickets afterwards (1 shilling) were green. Visitors could look upon a replica 2nd Division prison cell (with resident suffragette) and take part in a daily ‘election’ from a model polling booth. Refreshment stalls offered light meals, and there was also a fully operational ice cream soda café.

137933 — ‘2nd Division Cell Allotted to Suffragettes’

christabel-ballot-1909 — *that photo* of Christabel Pankhurst voting in the replica polling booth

The Midlands stalls did very well; the leadless glaze pottery was especially popular. Another draw to the stall had been promised some months previously; the Birmingham women were accompanied by a ‘charming white kitten’, who ‘caus[ed] great amusement’. The kitten at least seems to have been better behaved than the Shetland ponies that had been tasked by Ada Flatman, a member of the Birmingham WSPU, to wear ‘saddle cloths of purple, white and green’ with posters attached to advertise a meeting in Birmingham in April. She intended the ponies to be led by three women whilst three others distributed handbills, however it had proven ‘rather difficult’ to ‘get one white pony to wear the white trappings and walk in the middle’.

Looking at the effort expended by the Midlands women for the Exhibition in May 1909 shows another side to the suffragette campaign, one that is often passed over for the traditional idea of the imprisoned force-fed woman. Simultaneously, of course, the Midlands branches were hard at work holding street meetings and accosting Cabinet Ministers speaking at local political events. Whilst Ethel Street was abuzz with pinafore stitching and donation collecting, it was also a hive of activity preparing to campaign at co-occurring by-elections. However for those who were unable or unwilling to devote time to this kind of suffragette work, there was still an opportunity to support and contribute to the movement’s success. Poignantly, skills and hobbies that were usually reserved for the feminine sphere of the home became a tool for individual women to come together and work toward their ideal of empowerment – an Edwardian women’s craftivism. I wonder (and hope!) that somewhere, maybe, some of these unique items have survived.

Sources

(1) For all things Birmingham and suffrage (not just WSPU!) Nicola Gauld’s study is amazing. Words and Deeds – Birmingham Suffragists and Suffragettes 1832-1918 – follow the link to see a short documentary film about suffrage campaigning in the city.
Votes for Women – editions in March, April and May 1909
– for aberrant Shetland ponies – 30th April
– sewing meeting / Laura Coxon’s cushion – 19th March
– advertisement of upcoming Exhibition describing decoration – 7th May
– little white kitten – 21st May

27/11/18: Suffragette Rhetoric

November 27, 2018November 27, 2018 laughadefianceLeave a comment

As part of their Suffragette Stories project, the University of East Anglia has been digitising items from the Annie Kenney archive. I was struck by this letter to Annie by Constance Lytton, written as it emerged that WSPU prisoners, including Hilda Burkitt, were being forcibly fed.

Whilst Lytton describes it as ‘harrowing’, adding that the Mrs Pankhurst and Lawrence ‘are both ill with it’, she ends with a statement that neatly encapsulates contemporary suffragette rhetoric.

“But as soon as the public realise it and the ‘laughter’ it has caused in the House, it will, as usual, move on the tide immensely. These heroic women will be only too glad, one knows they are only proud to have been pioneers in this receiving of the Government’s new violence.”

As WSPU militancy escalated, the movement developed a rhetoric that allowed the members to justify their actions through asserting themselves as “just warriors”, part of a wider, unstoppable force that would secure the emancipation of women. (1) The ‘tide’ of women’s liberation was a frequent image in suffragette propaganda. Similarly, the women were ‘heroines’ in the tradition of historic militants such as Joan of Arc. In the letter above, Lytton draws on both iconographical elements. The idea of the women in Winson Green taking pride in the medical abuse they suffered is slightly jarring, but it is not surprising. Imprisonment, hunger-strike and forcible feeding would later become emblematic of the Suffragette’s tortured martyrdom for the Cause.

But what of the women inside Winson Green? Outside, Lytton could muse to Kenney, Votes for Women could run on their front page that ‘these women deserve well of womanhood and of the country of their birth; they are setting up a standard of heroism which will be remembered and honoured so long as the annals of human society are preserved’. [Votes for Women, 01/10/09] But how did the women inside Winson Green express themselves? What did they think about it?

In 1914, Hilda Burkitt’s closing speech at her and Florence Tunks’s trial for arson is deeply imbued with the suffragette rhetoric that had evolved from that mentioned above.

“Whatever sentence you impose I shall not serve, because I have made up my mind that I will not take any food or drink while I am in prison. I cannot stand the torture of the feeding for a great length of time, flesh and blood can’t stand it; and if Mr McKenna does not release me I shall die in prison, in which I case I shall then be the victor, because I shall not have served the sentence. You can give me liberty or death.”
[The Suffragette, 05/06/1914]

I had always naively assumed that Hilda’s political statements would have become more ‘extreme’ as the movement progressed. 1909 Burkitt as opposed to 1914’s fully-fledged arsonist and prison veteran seemed quieter, more subdued. I was wrong to assume this.

[excerpt of hand-written petition submitted to Home Office in 1909]

Hilda, in 1909, left no uncertainty around her intent as she declared hunger-strike in a hand-written petition.

‘so, will you reply to my Petition at once, as if I should [succumb crossed out] die through my fasting my death will lie at your door, but I am ready to lay down my life, to bring about the Freedom of my Sex.
Evelyn Hilda Burkitt.
Women’s Social and Political Union.
[HO 45/10418/183577]

What always strikes me about this document is the trace of Hilda’s thought-process as she wrote, crossing-out the more euphemistic, weaker ‘succumb’ for the far clearer ‘die’. Her self-portrayal as a willing martyr for the Cause makes her seem very much one of the ‘heroic’ ‘pioneers’ that Lytton related to Kenney from outside Winson Green. This self-representation would continue throughout her career. She would also draw on her ‘credibility’ as the first suffragette to be forcibly fed to draw people to drawing room and street meetings. She wore her ‘prison badge’, and likely the hunger-strike medal, presented to her by Christabel Pankhurst at Birmingham Town Hall in November 1909, with pride.

Reuben 1907.jpg — Photograph of Reuben Burkitt in 1907, taken by his daughter Lillian Burkitt.

These sources show Hilda Burkitt as she wished to present herself to hostile onlookers and the government. She states her political motives clearly, she is committed to the death. However, Hilda also used similar language in communication with her family. In 1914, she wrote to her father from prison to inform him of her arrest. As she was trying to keep her identity secret from the police, the letter is vague, and sent via her brother-in-law Fred. However Hilda also states that she was

‘not taking food or water, what will be the result I do not know. I am quite prepared to give my life if need be, but I suppose McKenna will desire that’.
[HO 144/1205/22030]

Of course, Hilda was obviously aware that the letter would be read, and could have been using this as a further outlet of political self-expression. That said, she obviously did not mind her father reading it after receiving it unexpectedly.

Reuben Burkitt was also present in 1909. As the facts of forcible feeding emerged, he wrote to Keir Hardie. Hardie secured him a Home Office permit to visit Hilda in Winson Green, ending his reply hoping Reuben ‘will find your daughter bearing up bravely’. As he left the prison, Reuben was interviewed by a local journalist and described how Hilda had related the entire process to him, including rough handling by doctors. She had asserted its illegality. Sounding slightly resigned, he is apparently quoted as saying ‘ “She is more reconciled now, although she evidently seems to have given more trouble to the officials than all the other Suffragists.” ‘ Burkitt was, according to the Birmingham Daily Gazette ‘in favour of the Parliamentary franchise being given to women […] but he regrets the militant movement in its present form.’ [Birmingham Daily Gazette, 11/10/09]

Reuben was also present, a week later, after Hilda’s release as she gave an interview to the Birmingham correspondent for the London Daily News. She spoke lying on a couch in her home in Sparkbrook. Her father related that she had just been examined by a doctor and her heart was weak. Hilda described how inside prison, the suffragettes were able to ‘cheer one another up by their “tattoo.” “We call our battle-cry our tattoo, you know – ” “Are we down-hearted? No surrender” Miss Burkitt explained’. She also stated that ‘she still justified violence as the only method of agitation open to the Suffragists’. [London Daily News, 18/10/09]

This web of source material is of course limited; it merely provides snapshots of particular moments and statements. However, throughout, we can see echoes of the same images and rhetorical devices that would shape WSPU self-representation. What is more, we see how the suffragettes used this imagery in their own communications to each other, either by letter as with Lytton and Kenney, or through prison cell walls. In the case of Hilda Burkitt, this was extended to their own family, as her father witnessed, either first-hand or by letter, his daughter’s hunger strikes.

Additional sources

1 – Cheryl R. Jorgensen-Earp, Transfiguring Sword: The Just War of the Womens Social and Political Union (University of Alabama Press, 1997).
See also: Lisa Tickner, The Spectacle of Women (University of Chicago Press, 1988).

The Face of Suffrage

November 15, 2018November 15, 2018 laughadefianceLeave a comment

Whenever the train pulls in or out of New Street station, I can’t help but think of Hilda. I imagine the adrenaline that pushed her through the hordes of people congregated to wave off their Prime Minister’s train. How did it feel, the moment her hand closed around the stone in her pocket before she sent it flying through the air? ‘Votes for Women!’, the sound of shattering glass, then the angry crowd descends. Three days later, she is being restrained in a hospital kitchen, having stared the government down as she wrote her petition from her prison cell. If they did not recognise the political motive behind her actions, she would hunger strike, and ‘if I should die through my fasting, my death will lie at your door, but I am ready to lay down my life, to bring about the Freedom of my Sex’.

Today, as I left New Street, I wasn’t the only person thinking of Hilda Burkitt. Her face is currently emblazoned across the concourse floor, 200 square metres huge. The portrait, that has always been my main mental image of her, has been reproduced out of thousands of crowd-sourced pictures of women and girls, past and present. Thousands of people will pass her for the next four weeks. As they stop to check for their train, they will see her half-smile between the departure screens.

[The departure screens in New St Station. In between them is a banner with a photograph of Hilda Burkitt.]

Trite as it is, I don’t have the words for the feeling as I travelled up the escalator to see the installation from above. Gradually the individual faces blurred, and Hilda appeared. Hilda, aged 25, the same age as me now. Hilda before it all began. She looks gently at her sister, who was behind the camera. Over a century later, I now read a look of coy knowing into her expression. ‘You don’t know the half of it’.

People asked what Hilda would have thought. I don’t know. Perhaps she would have blanched, hated the limelight cast on what turned into a traumatic chain of suffering. Perhaps she would have been delighted. All we have is her calm, fixed stare looking back at us. I would like to think that Hilda Burkitt the Suffragette, charging across New St Station with such firm literal and figurative aim, might see the funny side to the stage of her ‘outrage’ becoming a site for her commemoration.

My mother and I stood for a second in awe, and watched as people beneath moved slowly across, looking for themselves in the mass of faces. Later, we joined them. Pausing to point out Hilda’s father, brother and grandfather, her sisters, her nieces and nephews and the great times however many ones that came after. I submitted a photograph taken on my first day of university. I felt it was fitting, given all that the women’s movement has done and will do to break down the doors of institutions that previously remained firmly closed.

The crowds of New St no longer look at Hilda with hostility, but with curiosity and interest. She could never have known, when she posed for that portrait so long ago, that this would be where it would end up. That her face would gaze out from the faces of so many others. That she would, as artist Helen Marshall described it, be part of ‘the coming together of women past and present […] a bridge to express their story.’