The Church League for Women's Suffrage
When
the procession reached Bond Street there was a long halt, and fearing
that the head of the procession would perhaps fill the church before
our section arrived ... I slipped out of the march, crossed to St.
James's Street, hailed a taxi and told the driver to drive to St.
George's Church, Bloomsbury. It'll cost you 3s. 6d. if I do, said this opportunist Jehu. Get on as quickly as you can,
I said and entered the taxi, and got as far as Holborn and the foot of
a side street leading into Hart Street where the church is situated. I
sprang out. Stop here, I said, and I'll walk through to Hart Street. I placed the money in his outstretched hand and vanished. On getting to Bloomsbury Street it was a packed mass of humanity, and how to cross it to get to the pavement on the side of the church I knew not. But to get to that church I was determined if it cost me what the cause had cost the woman whose obsequies we were celebrating. I literally swam my way to the pavement, pushing people aside right and left as a swimmer does the water. Among the hoarse cries of a community who had come to see the remains of one 'butchered to make their English holiday', poor victims of the social systems of 'civilization' in our great 'industrial' cities, who get so few real 'holidays'. The King's 'orse! they kept on bawling,The King's 'orse! Chuck 'er out, said one of my own sex: these Suffragettes always spoil everyfink, forgetting that one now dead was giving them an entertainment. I wriggled my way on to the pavement, and for about a hundred yards or more wriggled in between them and on to my goal, the King's 'orse ringing in my ears. At one point a tall rather fine looking man, of the red hair and freckle order, put his arm round me to protect me, and did so in such an offensive and obscene manner that I literally shrieked out: Oh, Christ, to think that you died for such as these! He withdrew his arm quickly and said sternly, Let her pass, and helped me on a bit. Arriving at the church there was a double row of policemen across the pavement defending its entrance, and on the steps was our devoted friend, the Rev. Claude Hinscliffe, who had formed the Church League for Women's Suffrage, and several other clergymen, all tense and with white faces and in white surplices, awaiting the cortege ... |