Page 107 of Rivals at Ashmore Castle

‘I meant in terms of size and impact. And Lady Clementine Leacock – I suppose you knew?’

‘We saw her picture in the paper last night,’ Nina said. ‘I want to go to the hearing, to support her.’

Decius examined her expression and tone and looked at Wigston. ‘It would be a kind thing. She won’t have anyone else. I could go,’ he said.

Wigston was wavering. He had admired, almost revered Lady Clemmie. He didn’t like to think of her suffering. Perhaps this business was an aberration. Perhaps the fright of being arrested would put her back on track and she would go home and behave herself from now on.

‘Please, Joseph,’ Nina said. ‘She made a mistake, but she shouldn’t be all alone.’

‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘But you stay with Lady Wigston,’ he added to Decius. ‘Don’t leave her side for a moment. And keep away from any press men you see. And,’ to Nina, ‘wear a hat with a veil.’

There was a huge crowd outside the police court. Nina spotted Sylvia Pankhurst, presumably there to support her sister, handing out leaflets. Decius got them into the public gallery, and Nina pressed close to him, feeling nervous and out of her place in the strange surroundings, half wishing she hadn’t come. The gallery was crowded and she disliked being confined with all these strangers, especially given there was only one way out, down a narrow wooden staircase. She was glad that, coming in last, they were on the front-row benches next to the exit. The low buzz of conversation sank as the defendants filed into the dock, looking neat and tidy today, like ordinary respectable women you wouldn’t notice if you passed them on the street. The magistrate, Horace Smith, came in, and proceedings began.

It did not take long. The ten women were charged with insulting and threatening behaviour likely to cause a breach of the peace, and a murmur went round the gallery – it seemed the supporters were surprised by the charge. It seemed rather mild to Nina. The police gave their evidence, and a lawyer stood up to say the defendants waived their right to cross-examine.

Then they were asked if they wished to speak. Mrs Cobden Sanderson said she was guilty as charged, ‘But I do not recognise the authority of this court, in the absence of the right to vote.’

Lady Clemmie said, ‘This court has no authority over me. Democracy demands that those governed must have a say in the making of the law.’

Each in turn said she denied the court’s authority. Murmurs of support from the gallery were growing. Twice the clerk called for silence.

The magistrate dismissed their argument as irrelevant, pronounced them guilty and ordered each to pay a fine of five pounds and be bound over to keep the peace for six months. Immediately there was disturbance. The defendants shouted, ‘We won’t pay!’ and ‘Votes for women!’ and ‘Give us justice!’ One unfurled a suffragist flag over the front of the dock and there was a struggle as the police tried to restrain her. Supporters in the gallery were protesting and shouting slogans. The clerk called repeatedly for silence, and when the magistrate could be heard again he said that if the women wouldn’t pay the fine and be bound over, they would go to prison for two months. There was more uproar.

‘Two months in the second division!’ the magistrate shouted, over the noise. ‘Take them down!’

The police began to remove the defendants, two of them clinging to the rail of the dock so that they had to be dragged by force.

As Clemmie was taken away she shouted, ‘You can’t silence us! We will have the vote!’ She glanced up at the gallery, and her eyes met Nina’s for a moment, before she was jerked forward by the policeman and disappeared. Nina was shocked at how pale and frightened she had looked.

It took a long time to get out of the courtroom, pressed on all sides by the slow-moving throng. Outside the crowd had swelled, and were chanting slogans and protesting against the sentences. Decius was anxious to get Nina away before there was more disorder, but he had just edged them clear of the mass of bodies when he was hailed, and turned to see a smart little man in horn-rimmed spectacles hurrying in his wake. ‘Mr Blake? A word?’

Decius frowned, then said, ‘Oh, it’s Dunlop, isn’t it? The solicitor.’

‘I’m acting for some of the ladies, among them Lady Clementine Leacock.’ He lifted his hat to Nina. ‘I believe she is a particular friend of Lord and Lady Wigston.’

They walked a few steps further to the corner where it was quieter. ‘What is it you want?’ Decius asked.

‘This sentence, two months in the second division…It’s quite disproportionate,’ said Dunlop. ‘These are not common felons, they are ladies.’

‘What does it mean, in the second division?’ Nina asked.

‘It means conditions are very grim – harsh enough even for lower-class women, but for the gently born…I don’t believe, appearances to the contrary, that there is the appetite for punishing these ladies to this extent. Momentary annoyance at their – shall we say? – antics does not warrant—’

‘Yes, but what is it you want?’ Decius interrupted impatiently. ‘I want to get Lady Wigston home as quickly as possible.’

Dunlop came abruptly to the point. ‘Intervention. At least get them transferred to the first division.’ He glanced at Nina. ‘That means they can wear their own clothes, have books and writing materials, have food sent in. Lord Wigston has influence within the government. If he were to have a word with the prime minister or the home secretary…’

‘I see. Well, I will put it to him – that’s all I can promise,’ Decius said, and hurried Nina away.

Lord Wigston was quite grey in the face, thinking of Lady Clemmie in prison. ‘I thought they’d be bound over, nothing more. And two months! It’s horrible. Why didn’t they just pay the fine, damnit?’

‘What Clemmie did was wrong, but I’m sure she’s learned her lesson,’ Nina urged. ‘I don’t think she’d be able to stand prison. You know she isn’t very stout of health.’

‘Not a pick of flesh on her at the best of times,’ Wigston agreed. ‘But I can’t go asking favours, my first week. What would it look like?’

‘Isn’t your first week when you’re treated most leniently?’ Nina tried.

‘No, no, it doesn’t work like that. They’ll think I’m soft on law-breakers.’