Albert: The Power Behind Victoria – Channel 5

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This was very watchable, and impressively accurate by Channel 5’s standards. I don’t know why it claimed to be telling an “unknown story”, given that it didn’t say anything that hasn’t been said a zillion times before – although it’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone describe Prince Albert and Sir Robert Peel as having had a “bromance” (I love that idea!) – but it was still interesting.  What have Channel 5 got against Queen Victoria, though?  First, they showed that series which wildly exaggerated the tension between her and her children, and then, in this, they pretty much made out that she was hysterical and unstable.  Give the woman a break.   Be virtually imprisoned by your mother until you’re eighteen, and then produce seven children in nine and a half years (and another two later), and I think most people would be a little less than cool, calm and collected.

I think Queen Victoria must have been really worried about people thinking she was unstable. There are various theories about what caused George III’s problems, and I still go with the porphyria theory even though a lot of people don’t, but, at the time, it would just have been classed as “madness”.  Given the 18th and 19th century ideas about the “taint” of hereditary madness, any sort of irrational behaviour in his descendants – and Victoria was certainly temperamental, and prone to some extreme reactions – would have caused mutterings.  She’d have been so upset by this programme L .

I myself could well have done without all the comments about hysteria and instability and the suggestions that politicians preferred to deal with Albert because Victoria was “unstable”, not to mention the remarks about Victoria being entirely reliant on her husband. It sounded more like a run-through of some of the main arguments put forward against women’s suffrage than anything else.  OK, there was some element of truth in it, but it wasn’t half exaggerated – just as much of what was in Queen Victoria and her Tragic Family was exaggerated.

The stuff about Prince Albert, though, was fairly good – even if it was by no means “an untold story”. It was presented as a docu-drama, which seems to be the “in” format these days, and is more entertaining than the old-bloke-sat-behind-desk format.  I’m not sure why they had to give young Albert such a weird hat and haircut, though.  He looked more like Windy Miller from Camberwick Green than a handsome prince!  We got all the usual stuff about him initially being unpopular and seen as a scrounger, kicking out Baroness Lehzen, Osborne House, Balmoral, Christmas – as was pointed out, Albert didn’t actually introduce Christmas trees to Britain, but he probably can be credited with popularising the idea of the cosy family Christmas that we still know and love today! – and his closeness to his eldest daughter.  The presenters did seem determined to show Albert as an ideal father, in contrast to Victoria who was shown as being a rather cold mother, and jealous of Albert’s relationships with their children.  Victoria certainly wasn’t going to win any mother of the year awards, but I’m not sure that Albert would exactly have been up for father of the year either.  The Prince of Wales certainly wouldn’t have thought so.  The term “control freak” springs to mind!  But not according to Channel 5.

OK, the way they presented the personal stuff wasn’t great! Much better was what they said about Albert’s contribution to public life.  This was the great age of progress, reform, improvement … all those Victorian ideas.  Science and industry – not only the advances themselves, but the way people got on with them.  Contrast the way in which railways sprang up all over the country with today, when it takes the councils months just to fill in a pothole!   And the idea of civic duty – think Josephine Butler and her campaign against the Contagious Diseases Acts, or  Elizabeth Fry and her campaign for prison reform, or all the girls’ schools (like the one I went to) founded in northern cities by local bigwigs, not as businesses but out of a sense of public duty.  Think the Co-operative Movement, and the friendly societies. Athenaeums.  Public libraries.  Victorians really got on with things!  All right, all right, none of those examples involved Prince Albert, but that was the sort of culture that he was involved in promoting.

Random thought. If Robert Peel hadn’t died in 1850, relatively young, might Albert’s work have been a bit less London-centric?   The programme went on about the Royal Albert Hall, the Science Museum, the V&A, etc – yes, all very nice, but all in That London.  OK, railways made it easier for people to travel to London from elsewhere in the country, but Albert doesn’t seem to’ve made too much effort to get involved with projects anywhere else.  Hmm.

On a more positive note, it was pointed out – and this was also shown in the ITV drama series Victoria – that he first made his mark, particularly impressing Sir Robert Peel, with a speech at an Anti-Slavery convention.  The history of abolitionism in Britain, the US and elsewhere is fascinating, and very important: it was probably the first big “cause”.  Incidentally, it should be remembered that Prince Albert arguably stopped Britain from being dragged into a war with the United States in 1861.  But, whilst it would have been a step too far for the Queen herself to have addressed the meeting,  it was considered quite appropriate for her husband to do so, and also for Robert Peel to be at the meeting – and this was at a time when, obviously, slavery was still legal in several places, notably the United States and Brazil.  Royals have their wings clipped now, and, to some extent, political leaders do too.  Be diplomatic.  Imagine a senior politician today making a speech like Gladstone’s “bag and baggage” one.  But Albert was able to speak out about the number one cause of the day.  And he did.

He got involved with so much else, as well – as a “support and patron”, as the programme said, but royal support and patronage does such a lot to boost any cause. And a lot of it was in really unfashionable areas.  Calling him “a champion of the working classes” was probably exaggerating, but his interest in improving public sanitation is well-known, and hardly the sort of thing people would have expected a prince to be getting involved with.  I think it was reasonably fair comment to say that he made some of these causes “mainstream” – although people like Edwin Chadwick (three cheers for the Mancunian!) and James Kay-Shuttleworth (from Rochdale) had been calling for improvements in living conditions for the working classes long before Prince Albert came along.  The programme didn’t mention them.

And the Great Exhibition was probably his greatest triumph. All the nastiness and sneering in the press, trying to knock something down before it’d even got going, saying it was going to be a waste of time and money – some things never change, do they?!    That was where the money for the museums came from.  Yes, it made a huge surplus – funny how that rarely seems to happen with big public projects these days!  Albert’s triumph.  Britain’s triumph.  The programme sadly, though, failed to mention one of the most important things about the Exhibition, that it had the world’s first modern pay toilets, for which you had to spend a penny, hence the expression.  Sorry, that’s really lowering the tone, isn’t it?!  It did mention that cheap tickets were available, so people from all classes were able to attend.  Albert’s triumph.  Britain’s triumph.

How much did Prince Albert influence the world we live in today? It’s very hard to say.  He was a part of something: he didn’t create the Victorian world.  But he certainly played a huge part in it.

And did he work himself into an early grave? We still don’t know how he died, and we probably never will.  Typhoid fever from bad drains, the original version?  Stomach cancer?  Crohn’s Disease, as suggested in this programme?  Coupled with obsessive overwork, weakening his health.  Very sad.

He was 42. His son-in-law, Emperor Frederick III of Germany, died at 56.  He had 14 years longer than Albert but, as his father lived to be 90, he only had 88 days as emperor, and he was too ill by then to do anything.  For all the good work Albert did in Britain, I think what he wanted even more was to see his daughter Vicky, who, as the programme said, was very like him, and her husband, bring about liberal reforms in Germany.  Well, Albert died ten years before German unification, but it was probably something he hoped would come.  That side of things never got a look-in in this programme.  Fair enough – the programme wasn’t meant to be about Germany.  But no-one questions the fact that Frederick was a great admirer of his father-in-law.  Had he (Frederick) lived longer, Germany would probably have developed very differently, and maybe there’d never have been a First World War, and then there’d never have been a Second World War.  Everything could have been so different.  And a lot of that would have been down to Prince Albert.

It wasn’t to be. But Albert certainly achieved a fair amount, and is well worthy of admiration and respect.  I just wish that the makers of this programme hadn’t found it necessary to knock Queen Victoria so much.  Channel 5 really does seem to have it in for her.  Thank goodness that ITV hasn’t!

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Emmerdale 1918 – ITV 1, and Journey’s End

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Two very different looks at the Great War, one on TV and one a film adaptation of a play written in 1928.  I am a great believer in the power of soap operas to get messages across 🙂 , and I love the idea of exploring history via soap characters – maybe ITV and BBC could do more of this!   Personal history is increasingly popular, probably because the rise of the internet’s made it so much easier for people to become involved in genealogy, and the idea of this was to show how the war affected a number of individuals from Esholt, the Yorkshire village where Emmerdale used to be filmed, in a series of programmes presented by Emmerdale actors whose characters have similar jobs/positions.  Journey’s End, by contrast, was about fictional characters but took us right into the hell through which soldiers were living during the Spring Offensive of 1918, with almost all the action taking place in an officers’ dugout in one of the trenches.

It (Journey’s End) focussed on the mental hell as much as, maybe more than, the physical hell.  Although the action all took place towards the end of the war, we see at the beginning the attitude associated with the early months, a naïve young lad straight out of school desperate to get stuck into the action.  He was sent to the Front after only a few weeks of training.  Emmerdale 1918 showed us a video of some of the training: Charlotte Bellamy (Laurel Thomas) commented that it looked more like her legs, bums and tums class at the gym than something designed to prepare novice solders for war.

Our lad, Second Lieutentant Raleigh, was a public schoolboy with relatives in high places, and pulled strings to get himself assigned to a company captained by a family friend who’d been a few years above him at school, someone he’d always hero-worshipped and who’d got a bit of a thing going with his sister.  Only they weren’t at school any more, and the boy he knew at school was now aggressive, anxious, drinking too much, and convinced that his relationship with his friend’s sister would break her heart – either he’d die, or he’d go back to her a completely different man from the one she knew and loved.

We didn’t actually see the fighting, although we heard about the men who’d been killed: we saw how things played out in the dugout.  It wasn’t easy to watch: it was very intense and, because it was nearly all set in such a confined space, and over the course of over a few days, quite claustrophobic: it probably got the psychological hell across as well as any dramatisation could do.

The second episode of Emmerdale 1918 was also about a young lad with no military experience, going to the Front.  In this case, he was Joshua Booth, a working-class lad from a small Yorkshire village.  Of the 200 people living in the village, 50 went away to war.  That’s very hard to take in.  25% of your local community gone to war.  They don’t seem to have been in a Pals battalion, which at least was something.  In this case, we got the background: we saw the normality of this young man’s life at home, and we were read extracts from his letters to his sweetheart – who threw him over and married someone else.  You don’t expect that in a war programme, do you?  I know it sounds daft, but wartime romances are meant to end in either tragedy or joy, not in one partner dumping the other.  It was far less tense, far less intense, because it was indirect, and not so focussed on a small space and short period of time; and yet it had the intensity of being about just one person and, significantly, someone who really lived.

Different approaches, different backgrounds, and yet both stories ended the same way: neither young man survived.  Journey’s End didn’t tell us what happened to his comrades.  Emmerdale 1918 did tell us that the other 49 men from Esholt who went away to war all survived, which was incredible really … and yet some of them must have had life-changing injuries, physical or mental, and none of them could ever have been the same again.  Nor could anyone else who lived through that time.  The series is about the fact that it was a total war: we’re also getting land girls, chefs, vets … everyone’s lives turned upside down.

Do schools did get kids to compare The Soldier and Dulce et Decorum est?   It was a standard English Lit GCSE essay topic in my day.  Journey’s End was very Dulce et Decorum est: you just felt broken. Emmerdale 1918 inclined more towards The Soldier – not as sentimental, but concentrating on remembering the bravery, the heroism, the sacrifice.  More John Maxwell Edmonds – for our tomorrow, people like Joshua Booth gave their today.  So many lives lost, so many other lives irrevocably damaged.

It’s hard to believe that we’re now almost as far from the end of the Great War as the end of the Great War was from the end of the Napoleonic Wars.  25 years ago, people were starting to day that the idea of Remembrance would gradually die out, but it hasn’t.  It’s good that it hasn’t, but what a tragedy that, every year without fail, there are more and more war dead to be remembered.  And more and more people who’ve survived but suffered life-changing physical injuries and or horrific trauma.

Journey’s End is hard going, and certainly not enjoyable, but it’s worth watching.  As for Emmerdale 1918, I think this is a brilliant idea.  Soap stuff makes headlines!  We’ve seen that with so many crucial social issues. Can it now branch out into history?  OK, I think this series is a one-off, and I don’t think we’re about to see the cast of Coronation Street marking the 200th anniversary of the Peterloo Massacre or the cast of EastEnders showing us life in medieval London … but it would be great if we did.

 

Vanity Fair – ITV

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Given what some of the previews were saying, I was half-expecting us to be getting “Material Girl” booming out all the way through this. I’m pleased to say that we didn’t – not that I don’t appreciate the works of the great Ms Ciccone, but period drama is period drama and doesn’t need to be “modernised”.  There was the odd classic ITV anachronism – did people in the Regency really say “Room for a little one”?! – but generally it was true to the period and true to the book.  And Olivia Clarke, from Oldham, was great as Becky – although I thought the portrayal of Amelia was more of a talking point.

This isn’t an easy book to adapt for TV on film. I absolutely loved the 1987 adaptation, with Eve Matheson as Becky, and I’m having to try very hard not to keep comparing the two!   But it’s a satire – the fact that the spa they visit is called Bad Pumpernickel says it all! – and satires aren’t always easy to get across on TV or film.  Especially when it’s the iconic Sunday 9pm spot, when people expect love and romance and heaving bosoms!   It is, of course, “a novel without a hero”, so there aren’t going to be any wet shirt scenes or topless scything scenes.  And those are what tend to grab the headlines.  We’re all so shallow, aren’t we 🙂 ?  And I’ve heard a lot of people say that they don’t like the book because they don’t like the heroine.

But do you really have to like the heroine? You’re not meant to like Becky.  But you can admire her.  As someone who spends half her life worrying that she’s upset/offended someone – I have been known to edit a comment on a friend’s Facebook post four times – I actually wish I had a bit of her nerve.  She doesn’t see why she should settle for what life’s given her, and she sets out to climb the greasy pole.  In the early 19th century, the obvious way for a young, attractive woman to do that was by trying to bag a rich bloke, and that’s exactly what she does.  It’s hardly unusual, either in books or in real life.  There’ve been a lot of comments about how, if Becky were around today, she’d be on reality TV.  Maybe she would.  Or maybe she’d be hanging around the sort of clubs and bars that Premier League footballers go to.  It doesn’t really matter, because she’s not around today.  But there are always people who are out to use what they’ve got to get what they can get.

I suppose the difference with Becky, in terms of book heroines whom you don’t really like – Gone With The Wind is the greatest novel ever written, but I wouldn’t say that I “like” Scarlett O’Hara – is that, unlike Scarlett, she really doesn’t seem to care about anyone other than herself.  The one time she redeems herself is when she persuades Amelia to marry Dobbin, and that’s partly why the friendship between the two of them is so important to the book.  The sweet sister or best friend who can’t see the bad in anyone isn’t an unusual character, but Amelia is pretty sappy and colourless in a way that people like Jane Bennet and Melanie Hamilton Wilkes aren’t, They have changed that in this adaptation, to give Amelia, played by Claudia Jessie, a much stronger personality.  I like this version of Amelia … but I’m always quite dubious about TV adaptations changing the characters too much.

Something similar was done with Fanny Price, who isn’t sappy but is distinctly over-prim and boring, in the adaptation of Mansfield Park a few years ago.  So – do TV producers feel that sappy/colourless female characters (apologies for excessive use of the word “sappy”!) aren’t acceptable in the 21st century?  Going slightly off the point, I recently went to see the musical version of An Officer and a Gentleman.  It was great – all that ’80s music! – and no-one could ever compare Paula to Amelia Sedley, but the great iconic moment at the end, when Zack carries her off in his arms, did feel slightly awkward.  The production team obviously felt that too, because she swept him up in her arms when the cast came on to take a bow at the end!  And, whilst I can’t wait to see the Pretty Woman musical – music by Bryan Adams!! – I do take the point in some of the reviews that the idea of the rich businesswoman picking up the girl off a street corner and giving her money to buy expensive clothes with seems rather cringeworthy.  Or am I making too much of this, and were the producers of Vanity Fair just trying to make Amelia a bit more interesting?

They haven’t changed any of the other characters. And, so far, they haven’t really changed the storyline.  I thought George Osbourne could have been a bit more caddish, rather than just generally annoying, but I suppose he was generally annoying.  And I prefer to think of Dobbin being more the strong and silent type and a bit less nervous and self-effacing, but, again, that’s probably just me!   Jos Sedley was spot on, though, as the caricature of the rather idiotic nabob in the era of East India Company administration of India.  The Crawley house seemed rather more Gothic horror novel-esque than I remembered, but Martin Clunes as Sir Pitt was great.

It’s all about the girls, though. And we’ve still got Miss Matilda Crawley to come.  It is, after all, a novel without a hero!

In terms of the actual production, it was all really bright and colourful. I’m not good with technical stuff, but I gather that this is due to computer generated imagery.  When they showed some of the shots of London, I was half-expecting a group of bystanders to burst into “Who will buy this wonderful morning?” – it had that kind of feel to it!   But Vanity Fair *is* colourful.  The Georgian era *is* colourful.  It’s not the Restoration – Restoration era London would definitely lend itself to CGI (TV adaptation of Forever Amber, anyone?)! – but it’s certainly not the era of covering up piano legs because it’s rude for even furniture to show its bare legs.  The Museum of London website describes the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, where Jos nearly proposed but didn’t, as “Part art gallery, part fashion show and part brothel”! (It didn’t last too long into the Victorian era.)  I’m rather looking forward to seeing what they do with the Duchess of Richmond’s ball.

I don’t think this is going to become part of our culture in the way that the 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice did, or that Downton Abbey did. Of everything I’ve ever written, the post about “Downton Abbey and the Odessa pogroms” has had more views than anything else!   But it filled that Sunday 9pm slot nicely, and I enjoyed it.  And I see that it’s made a lot of today’s front pages, even without wet shirts or topless scything!

 

A Passage to Britain II, Polish refugees in India – BBC 2

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There’s been a sizeable Polish community in Manchester, as in many other parts of the UK, since the war. I’ve always been aware of that, right back to when I was at primary school and some of the other kids there had Polish names.  And I knew that there’d been Polish Displaced Persons camps in the UK, one of the largest being at Delamere Park near my mum’s home town of Northwich.  But I have to say that I knew very little about Polish wartime refugees coming to the UK via India; and I don’t think that the makers of this rather interesting series did either, until they came across this sad but fascinating story whilst looking into immigration from India to Britain in the immediate post-war era.

I got the impression that Yasmin Khan – who would be a good presenter if she didn’t seem so keen to present Britain in as negative a light as possible – was expecting to find that most of those sailing on the Asturias, the ship featured in the second programme, in late 1947 were fleeing the horrific violence associated with Partition.  That’s what I’d have been expecting too.  (I did also think we might get a few British people/families who’d spent their entire working lives in India returning to the UK to make a new start in a “home” that they didn’t really know, but we didn’t.)

There were certainly people leaving because of Independence and or Partition. Some of those featured were Sikhs: Partition was about Hindus and Muslims but, especially with most of the violence being in the north, so many Sikhs suffered terribly.  There was a rather nice reference by one Sikh man to his father having previously spent time in Britain in the 1930s and having worked as a market trader alongside Jewish market traders in the East End of London, two religious minority groups together.

There were also a number of Anglo-Indians, a community which tends to be overlooked when discussing this period of history. It’s a confusing term, because “Anglo-Indian” originally meant white British people living in India, with people of mixed heritage being descrived as “Eurasian” – but then, somehow, the meanings changed, and “Anglo-Indian” came to mean people of mixed heritage.  As with so many stories of immigration over the years, there were some sad tales of skilled workers having to take whatever work they could get, often with little relevance to the skills and experience they’d brought with them – but, alongside that, inspiring tales of building up successful businesses.

The part of the programme that most caught the attention, though, was the part focussing on the Polish people travelling on the ship, because it just wasn’t what either the presenter or the viewers would have been expecting.

After the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, but before the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union led to the Soviets joining the war on the Allied side, the Soviets deported large numbers of people, possibly as many as a million, from Soviet-occupied parts of Poland to gulags in Siberia and Kazakhstan. During a temporary amnesty in mid to late 1942, many of those people were able to leave, but it was a long and arduous journey, through Persia.  Some of the young men went into the Polish Armed Forces in Exile.  Civilians, mostly women and children, were taken to various places, mostly parts of the British Empire and the Dominions; and India played a large part in this.

Within India, various authorities were involved – the British colonial authorities, the Polish consul general in Bombay/Mumbai and his wife, and the royal families of some of the princely state. The Maharajah of Nawanagar played a particularly important role: he unfortunately didn’t get a mention in this programme, but I’ve been reading a bit about him.  He set up a camp for Polish refugee children, and there’s a school named after him in Warsaw, and also a “Good Maharajah Square”.  The Maharajah of Kolhapur also set up a camp for Polish refugee children.

We didn’t hear about the maharajahs’ camps, but we did hear how Polish communities were established in India, and we saw pictures of Polish shops and Polish dancing there. Some of the Polish refugees settled in India and spent the rest of their lives there, but the programme was about people coming from India to Britain and, along with many other Poles – there seem to have been about 250,000 in all – who ended up in Britain after the war, the people interviewed had settled here, not wanting to go back to a Poland which by then was under communist rule.

There are so many little-known stories about groups of people displaced during or after the Second World War. Even now, the stories of Stalin’s deportations of the Chechens and the Crimean Tatars aren’t well-known in the West.  Then there were the Germans forced to leave the Breslau area, now Polish Wroclaw … and the repopulation of Wroclaw by Poles who left Lviv/Lvov/Lviv/Lemberg when it became part of Soviet Ukraine.  Just a few examples.  It’s thought that around 1,000 Poles came to Britain via India.

This programme’s hopefully drawn attention to their story – and it’s fascinating how historical research can lead you down paths that you hadn’t set off to go down, and teach you about something that you hadn’t been looking for. You look for stories about people fleeing the violence of Partition between India and Pakistan, and stumble across stories of people deported from Soviet-occupied Poland.  And, amid all the evils of those times, there were wonderful people like those two maharajahs who set up camps for refugee children from a faraway land.  I feel quite bad that I didn’t know about the history of Polish wartime refugees in India.  I’m glad that I do now.

Who Do You Think You Are? (Olivia Colman) – BBC 1

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Some episodes of this are better than others; and this, kicking off the new series, was a particularly good one. OK, technically the series started with the Michelle Keegan episode, which was also interesting, but that was shown weeks ago!   The Olivia Colman episode not only included some fascinating “human interest” stories, about the eventful lives of the ancestors of someone who’d said that she hadn’t expected to find too much drama in her family tree, but took us back to the lives of the British in pre-Mutiny India, something we don’t hear nearly enough about.

The Victorians cast a very long shadow, and, given their achievements, rightly so. But that does mean that the attitudes of Georgian times aren’t given enough attention: there can be the idea that the views of “the past” mean the views of the mid to late Victorians.  And Georgian times were very different.  Take Jane Austen’s novels.  Lydia Bennet runs off with Mr Wickham, and lives with him before they’re married.  Maria Rushworth, nee Bertram, leaves her husband and runs off with Henry Crawford.  We hear all about Willoughby’s history of seducing young women – and Wickham wasn’t behind the door in that department either.  Emma’s friend Harriet is “the natural daughter of Someone”.  It’s a long way from the Victorians covering piano legs because even pianos weren’t allowed to show their legs in public!

Then there were attitudes on race and colonialism. It’s a controversial area, and one which it would take hours to go into properly.  But, in the second half of the 19th century, it probably wasn’t very likely that a well-to-do British family would have taken in the mixed race daughter of one of its scions.  The illegitimate mixed race daughter.  Whereas that’s exactly what happened with Olivia Colman’s great-great-great-grandmother, Harriot Slessor – born in a remote part of India in 1807, half a century before the Mutiny, to a British officer and his Indian mistress.

Sadly, her father died when she was only three, and we don’t know what happened to her mother, but Olivia learnt that Harriot’s grandmother had sent for her, paid for her passage to Britain, and given her everything she could. She was nicknamed “India Harriot”: there seems to have been no attempt to cover up her mixed heritage, as there perhaps would have been later on.  Think Anna Leonowens of “The King and I” fame.  OK, what happened to Harriot was only one person’s experience, but it was … well, I was going to say a lovely one, but it was actually rather sad in parts.  Although she was going to a loving family, it was to a strange country and people she didn’t know.  And then her first husband, whom she met on board a ship going back to India, died shortly after their marriage.

It was suggested that her mixed heritage made it difficult for her to find a husband in England, so not everyone was as open-minded as the Slessor family were, but she did marry twice, both to white British men. She and her second husband remained in India for many years, and then retired to the Home Counties, where they lived a comfortable life.  He presumably made money in India and was from a comfortable background anyway, and she inherited a considerable sum of money from a great-aunt.  It doesn’t seem to have bothered her family in the slightest that she was illegitimate or that she was of mixed race.  OK, this was only one person’s experience, and doesn’t necessarily typify the attitudes of the time, but I think it’s a very Georgian/early Victorian story, and I think Harriot’s upbringing may well have been very different had she been born sixty years later.   Thankfully for her, she wasn’t.

I’m not knocking the Victorians, but the image we have of the British in India tends to be that of the later Victorians, and of the first half of the 20th century, and it’s not always very positive, especially in today’s socio-political climate. Books like E M Forster’s A Passage to India perhaps have a lot to do with that.  And the pre-Mutiny British in India tend to be seen as idiots, like Jos Sedley in Vanity Fair.  Stories like that of Harriot Slessor can tell us a lot, and show us that maybe we need to rethink some of the common ideas and images about the British in India.  As the lady who showed Olivia round the area where Harriot was born pointed out, there were many relationships between British men and Indian women back then. Obviously there are books like White Mughals, about mixed race romances, about the 18th century, but it’s still the image of the clubs and the hill stations in late Victorian and early 20th century times that dominate.

There was a lot more in this programme, too. Harriot’s second husband’s father, Olivia’s great-great-great-great-grandfather, had accused his first wife of adultery, and then been granted not only a legal separation but the right to remarry – to a woman with whom he already had two children.  The two children born before their marriage were treated exactly the same as those born after their marriage – and this was in a very middle-class family.  Again, very Georgian!

We also heard about Harriot’s grandmother, also Harriot, and how she’d spent a lot of time in Porto, where her soldier husband was based.   From a human interest viewpoint, we heard – how wonderful to be able to read your great-great-great-great-great-grandmother’s letters! – about her sadness at leaving her elderly mother behind in Britain, and her sons at British boarding schools … something else we associate with Victorian and early twentieth century times, and which we need to remember went back well before that.  It was also a reminder of the longstanding bond between England/Britain and the very lovely city of Porto, and the very lovely country of Portugal generally.  Harriot’s husband was in the army, whereas a lot of the Brits based in Porto were there because of the port wine, but that’s another story!

Finally, we learnt that the elder Harriot’s mother had been born in Paris and come to Britain as a Huguenot refugee. That was well into the 18th century, so long after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes and the main wave of Huguenot emigration from France to the British Isles and elsewhere, but that just went to show that the issue of religion in France continued to be an issue even into the 1720s/1730s.  The distant relative who told Olivia about their common ancestor made the point that the Huguenots were the first group of people to be termed “refugees”.  This was right at the end of the programme, and we didn’t hear very much about this lady, but the whole subject of people moving around between England, Scotland, Ireland, France  and Low Countries, over a long period from the middle of the 16th century to the start of the 18th century – in fact, the middle of the 18th  century, if you include the people who left Scotland after Culloden – for religious and political reasons, often linked, is fascinating, and something we don’t hear enough about.

Mostly it was fairly small groups of people, but around 50,000 Huguenots came to the British Isles. Their influence on the textile and cutlery-making industries here, and the watch-making industry in Switzerland, was just immense.  Britain and Switzerland’s gain, and France’s loss.  There was quite a lot of immigration at that time – people moved from the Netherlands to Britain with William of Orange, and they included Jews as well as Protestants.  And, in 1709, 13,000 migrants from Germany – dubbed “the Palatines” as some of them came from the Palatinate – arrived in Britain, claiming that they were refugees, but it turned out that a lot of them were economic migrants, and there were social issues because most of them were poor and unskilled, many of them were Catholics when they’d claimed to be Protestants fleeing persecution.  There was a big row over immigration policy, and the difference between refugees and economic migrants …  some things don’t change!

But the Huguenot immigration does generally seem to have gone really well, and it would’ve been interesting to hear more about Olivia’s Huguenot ancestor.  However, you can only fit so much into an hour’s episode, and the story of her Eurasian (Anglo-Indian originally meant “British living in India”, with “Eurasian” being the term for someone of mixed heritage) great-great-great-grandmother and how well her life turned out was absolutely fascinating.  And Olivia had had no idea that her family had any connection with India at all.  Who knows what there might be in anyone’s family history that they have no idea about?  It’s just great when this programme can uncover something completely unexpected like that.  Wonderful episode.

Poldark … and Reform – BBC 1

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The slave trade, rotten boroughs, pocket boroughs, bans on trade unions, the birth of health and safety legislation – in Radcliffe – , the “Proclamation for the Discouragement of Vice” (seriously!), religious discrimination … it was all going on in the 1780s and 1790s.  And that’s before you start with the French Revolution.  Or, indeed, Ross Poldark wandering along the beach with no shirt on.  Did you see how the BBC teased us last night?  He started unbuttoning his shirt, but then got interrupted and kept it on!  Huh!!

Well, we’re now in the late 1790s, and Ross (with his shirt on) has been elected as an MP for a rotten borough – i.e. one with very few voters, in this case fewer than twenty.  Of the 57 rotten boroughs eventually abolished by the Great Reform Act of 1832, which also extended the franchise (to some middle class males), and ended the so-called Long Eighteenth Century (1688-1832), almost a quarter were in Cornwall, and most of the others were also in the south west.   Nice to see Debbie Horsfield from Eccles, who’s adapting the books for the TV series, getting Demelza Poldark to make the point that Manchester didn’t have any MPs at all at this point.  Nor did many other population centres, mainly in the north of England.   And, whilst it was also nice to see a female character expressing an opinion on politics, the idea of women actually being able to vote, let alone become MPs, wasn’t really on anyone’s agenda at this point 😦 … although Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, had played quite a prominent part in Whig party campaigning in the late 1770s and early 1780s.

At least there was some genuine competition in Ross’s election: there were also plenty of “pocket boroughs” where some aristocrat could effectively choose the MP by bullying a majority of voters into doing what he wanted.  George Warleggan, having been defeated by Ross, was determined to get back into Parliament.  It was pointed out that this shouldn’t be a problem as there were plenty of seats for sale, but George decided that he’d do better actually buying his own borough – and preferably one with two MPs rather than one.  He was soon negotiating to this end with the dastardly Monk Adderley, who told Ross that he rarely bothered turning up to the House of Commons and told George that he’d never even been to the constituency he represented and never intended to.  OK, hopefully most MPs of the time weren’t quite as bad as Adderley and Warleggan, but there’s no denying the fact that some were.

 

No secret ballot until 1872, which was why the “owners” of pocket boroughs were able to control the voting there.  In Ross’s constituency, we saw the (fewer than twenty) voters each declaring whether they were voting for nice Ross or nasty George.  George claimed that he’d lost out because, although he had money, he wasn’t from an old gentry family as Ross was.  Obviously, we all know that that was just sour grapes, and that he’d lost out because he was a baddie (boo, hiss) and Ross was a goodie; but neither of them would have been able to stand had they not met the property qualification for doing so – not abolished until 1858.  And, much as we may moan about MPs’ salaries and expenses these days, until 1911 they weren’t paid at all, so anyone who couldn’t afford to pack in any other job they had and pay for accommodation in London was out of the reckoning.

Just thinking about it all makes me want to march to Kersal Moor (well, it’s only about a mile away), scene of a huge Chartist meeting in 1838, and read out the six points of the People’s Charter!

Ross had insisted, when agreeing to stand as a candidate, that it was on the understanding that he would support measures to “help the poor”, and also that he would support the abolition of the slave trade.  Abolitionism had really got going in the 1780s: the slave trade would be abolished in the British Empire in 1807 (but the practice of slavery not until 1833 in the British Empire, and later than that in many other places).   Wilberforce wasn’t quite the hero he’s always made out to be.  Obviously his contribution to the Abolitionist movement was huge, and he is rightfully lauded for that, and also for his contributions to setting up (what became) the RSPCA and the RNLI, but he supported the Combination Acts (more of which later) and opposed the holding of an inquiry into the Peterloo Massacre.  Keep the working classes in their place 😦 .

Interestingly, Ross’s first speech in connection with Abolitionism was to the effect that that, abhorrent as the slave trade was, the debate about it was drawing attention away from the issue of conditions in “the mills of the North”.   He was obviously very sincere, but something always puts my back up about members of the Southern upper classes, who’d never been near a textile mill in their lives, talking about the subject.

I know that that’s really stupid, because I’m always getting worked up about things in places I’ve never been to, but … I think it’s because of the 7th Earl of Shaftesbury – who hadn’t actually even been born at this point, but was very involved in campaigns to improve conditions for child labourers in mills and mines, and conditions in asylums, and the banning of the practice of using children as chimney sweeps, in the 1830s and 1840s.  I’m sure he meant very well, and the legislation was much needed and very important, but the way he put things was just so patronising.  All that “When I die, you will find “Lancashire” engraved on my heart” stuff.  I know that times were different then, but that patronising, paternalistic attitude just annoys me!   And do not get me started on the subject of Charles Dickes and Hard Times.

To get back to the 1790s, which is what I’m actually supposed to be writing about, the calls for legislation about health and safety in factories, especially for children, were being led by Robert Peel – father of the future Prime Minister of the same name.  Born in Blackburn and later based in Bury.  Robert Owen, owner of the mills at New Lanark, also later got involved.  Robert Peel owned a cotton mill in Radcliffe – now three Metrolink stops up the Manchester to Bury line from chez yours truly.  After an outbreak of putrid fever there in 1784, he became concerned about the treatment of the apprentices there by his managers, and it was he who introduced what became the Factory Act of 1802, and the later and more effective Cottons Mills and Factories Act of 1819.  So, British health and safety legislation originated in Radcliffe!  And Ross did have a point about the need to tackle problems at home as well as those, however important, abroad.

However … the 1802 Factory Act was officially called the Health and Morals of Apprentices Act, and, whilst it did address the working and living conditions of apprentices in the mills, it also included a load of brainwashing provisions involving making apprentices attend Church of England services and preparing them for Church of England communion.  I know.  Different times and all that.  But it says a lot that the parliamentary powers that were, and the Church of the Establishment, had to get that in there.  See what I mean about patronising, paternalistic, attitudes?!

Ross owns a mine in Cornwall.  He didn’t mention working conditions in mines – although conditions in mines, especially coal mines, were also horrendous.  The issue of conditions of mines wasn’t addressed until long after conditions in mills first became an issue.  It was 1842 before the Mines and Collieries Act was passed.  A commission investigating conditions in mines was set up in 1838, after 26 children, some of them as young as 8, were killed in an accident at a mine near Barnsley.  Our pal Shaftesbury, Lord Ashley as he was then, got it through Parliament by going on about how women were working topless (because of the extreme heat in the mines) and were wearing trousers (to protect their legs as they crawled along, dragging cartloads of coal behind them).  26 kids from the Northern labouring classes being killed –whatever.  Women working topless and wearing trousers, disgusting!  Get that legislation passed!  OOH 😦 .  It’s the attitude …

But at least the legislation got through.  And I was glad to see that Ross wasn’t mithering about forcing kids to attend church, or worrying about what female workers were or weren’t wearing.

Going back to the Combination Acts, they, passed in 1799 and 1800, largely a response to the events of the French Revolution, and also due to fear of a strike being called in wartime, banned the formation of trade unions and bargaining by British workers.  They were repealed in 1824, but the Tolpuddle Martyrs were deported in 1833 on the excuse of the Unlawful Oaths Act of 1797 – which aimed to stop mutinies in the Navy.  Again … keep the working classes in their place 😦 .

And stop them from enjoying themselves!  In 1787, the “Proclamation for the Discouragement of Vice” was issued.  Great name, that, isn’t it?  Even Oliver Cromwell never came up with that one.   This was another of Wilberforce’s great ideas, incidentally.  The man should really have stuck to Abolitionism!  The “Proclamation for the Encouragement of Piety and Virtue, and for the Preventing and Punishing of Vice, Profaneness and Immorality”, to give it its full name.  No enjoying yourself on a Sunday, even though it’s the only time you’ve got off work.  No swearing.  No excessive boozing.  No dirty books – and that might sound amusing, but the Powers That Were’s ideas on suppressing dirty books included wanting to prevent the lower classes from reading anything about contraception, which wasn’t very funny at all.  Nobody took much notice.  So the Society for the Suppression of Vice was founded (in London) in 1802.  Nobody took much notice of that either.

We’re actually getting the other, better, side of the piety/Sabbatarian thing in Poldark, and that’s the growth of Methodism.  Obviously Cornwall is somewhere particularly associated with that, and it’s even been suggested that Sam and Drake Carne, Demelza’s brothers, were partly based on John and Charles Wesley.  They do come across really well, never too preachy, never patronising, never trying to force anyone into anything.  There was still significant discrimination against Nonconformists at this time, and even more so against Catholics, and, because the oaths required to be taken on assuming public office were specifically Christian, against Jews; and it would be well into the 19th century before there was religious equality in the UK.  It could be argued that there still isn’t, given that some forms of religious marriage are not legally binding and couples being married under those rites have to have a civil ceremony as well.  The big Catholic Emancipation Act of 1829 was still thirty years away at this point – and under twenty years had passed since the Gordon Riots of 1780, when there were major protests in London against plans for Catholic emancipation.  George Warleggan had it in for the Carnes mainly because they were Ross’s brothers-in-law, but I don’t think the fact that they were Methodists helped either.

Compared to most Continental countries, Britain in the 1790s was a model of liberty, equality and fraternity.  And even newly independent America only really offered life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness to well-to-do white men.  But there was a hell (just had to put that in to cock a snook at the Discouragement of Vice brigade) of a long way to go in terms of social and political change.

Ross Poldark (yes, I do know that he wasn’t actually real) was one of the good guys.  And/but he could only work within the system he was in.  The storyline about his election to Parliament, and his work there, is fascinating.  Yes, we all enjoy the shirtless stuff, and the romantic stuff, but there’s a lot of very important history in there as well.  Please, please don’t let this be the last series!   Let it run and run!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Suffragettes with Lucy Worsley – BBC 1

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As I’m fond of reminding people 🙂 , I went to the same school as Christabel Pankhurst and her sisters Sylvia and Adela.  We used to have Speech Days in the Free Trade Hall, the iconic building where, in 1905, Christabel and her friend and fellow suffragette Annie Kenney heckled politicians at a Liberal Party rally, whereupon they were arrested and carted off to Strangeways.  (Strangeways was unisex in those days.)  I’m trying and failing to resist making the old teenage jokes about how being carted off to Strangeways would have been preferable to having to sit through school Speech Day, which, in my day, was usually held on the first Monday in July, generally very hot and stuffy and often fourth round day at Wimbledon.  We so did not want to be there!

Sorry.  Back to the point.  The Free Trade Hall incident in 1905 marked a turning point in the campaign for women’s suffrage, and it was the starting point for Monday night’s hour and a half long programme on the suffragettes, presented by Lucy Worsley.  It also summed up the suffragette movement very well.  The brilliant PR machine run by the Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU), founded in 1903: Christabel, as a law graduate – although, as a woman, she wasn’t allowed to practise – knew that spitting at the police would get them arrested on charges of technical assault, and that that would get them far more publicity than just being dragged away.  The contempt shown to campaigners for women’s suffrage by the Establishment.  The wide range of backgrounds amongst the suffragettes: Christabel was from a middle-class family from the city of Manchester, Annie from a working-class family from one of the semi-rural mill villages of Saddleworth.  And the extent to which women were prepared to go to – at this stage, arrest and imprisonment.  Later, it would be what can only be described as torture; and, whilst I honestly don’t think Emily Wilding Davison meant to lose her life, women did say that they were ready to die for The Cause.

I do find Lucy Worsley’s bossy prefect style of presenting a bit irritating, and her obsession with dressing up rather infantile.  However, that’s become quite a clever PR machine as well: every time one of her programmes is on, it’s all over the TV reviews as pundits argue over whether her dressing up is entertaining or just plain silly.  She certainly gets attention.  It’s unlikely that, had anyone else been presenting this programme, it would have been on BBC 1 rather than BBC 2 and in a prime time slot straight after EastEnders.  So take a bow, Lucy.  You might be annoying, but you get the media talking about history, and that can only be a good thing!

It was presented in docu-drama style.  That again can seem quite infantile sometimes, but in this instance it worked extremely well.  Seeing women with the clothes and hairstyles of the period, reading out the suffragettes’ own words, especially about the horrors of force-feeding and of sexual assault by the police, was very evocative and very effective.  The roles assigned were those of Annie Kenney and several other leading suffragettes who were… well, most of the names were familiar, but they were certainly far less well-known than those of the Pankhurst women, and the idea was to show that it wasn’t all about the big names.  I would have thought that was rather obvious, TBH.  With any sort of movement, you’re always going to have the big names, but surely everyone realises that the big names didn’t do it all by themselves.  But, OK, it made the point that there were a lot of people involved.

Lucy also made the point that this was an effective home-grown terrorist organisation.  I’m not very comfortable about the use of that expression to describe the WSPU. OK, yes, they were.  They used violence.  But the word “terrorism” has come to mean the murder of innocents.  Slashing paintings, smashing windows, setting fire to empty houses, and even letter bombs, vandalising public buildings and attacking politicians with catapults can hardly be compared to that.  So may we stick with “militant” rather than “terrorist”, please?

Just wandering off topic a bit, it’s interesting that the campaign for universal male suffrage at this time was so low profile, compared with the campaign for female suffrage.  Despite the reforms of 1832, 1867 and 1884, millions of British men did not have the right to vote until 1918.  So why weren’t they doing all this militant campaigning as well?  This never gets asked.  It wasn’t mentioned at all in Lucy’s programme.  Well, those who still didn’t have the vote were those at the lowest end of the socio-economic scale, who wouldn’t have had the time or funds for campaigning – but you could say the same about a lot of the men, and women, who’d attended the large-scale rallies of the first half of the 19th century.  Think Peterloo.  Think the Chartists.  There were major developments taking place in trade unionism at this time, so were the blokes putting their attention into that, rather than into campaigning for the right to vote?  I wish someone would do a programme on that.  This year marks the 150th anniversary of the founding of the T.U.C. – in Manchester, of course!! – but that hasn’t had even a fraction of the attention that “Vote100” has.  Hmm.

Back to the subject of PR.  It’s a modern term, but the suffragettes were bloody good at it!  As Lucy pointed out, the image of women chained to railings is one that everyone knows, the iconic image of the suffragette movement – but it’s not something that actually happened very often.  It just got brilliantly publicised.  And then there are the suffragette colours – white for purity, green for hope, purple for dignity.  Everyone knows those colours.  Theresa May wore those colours on the centenary of the passing of the Representation of the People Act – a day which she marked by visiting Manchester, of course (just had to get that in!).   And this was turning the tables on the mockery shown by the Establishment, including sections of the media, which presented suffragettes as unfeminine, and made fun of them.  Being criticised, you can take.  Being made fun of, not being taken seriously – that’s horrendous.  It still happens now, with the so-called “liberal elite” and the scorn which they pour on anyone who doesn’t agree with them, but it was even worse at the time of the suffragettes.

What summed it up brilliantly was a bazaar featured as part of the docu-drama –selling the sort of things which Edwardian ladies were supposed to make, and sell, but also featuring a mock-up of a prison cell, so that visitors could see what suffragettes who’d been imprisoned for their activities were having to endure.  What a superb juxtaposition.  And a lot of women were being imprisoned, even before the really militant period of the campaign began – but, as Lucy explained, this actually boosted the movement.  What does the suffragette song in Mary Poppins say?  “Take heart!  For Mrs Pankhurst has been clapped in irons again”.  Lucy used the word “radicalised” – and that’s another modern term which fitted the events of the time perfectly.  Suffragettes bonded with each other during their time in prison.  When they were released, they were greeted by cheering crowds.  We’ve all seen the pictures of that.   Less well-known are the huge banquets which were held afterwards, to honour the suffragettes who’d done their stints in prison, and the medals – “For Valour”, the words used to accompany the Victoria Cross – presented to them.

It wasn’t all of the media.  One photographer hid in a cupboard so that he could jump out and take a photo when policemen came to arrest Emmeline Pankhurst (again) – another clever PR coup for the WSPU.  It wasn’t all of the Establishment, to be fair.  But it was enough of them.  The suffragettes tried doing things peacefully, in the tradition of those who attended the rally at St Peter’s Fields – and look how they were treated – and the Chartists.  They held huge rallies.  And even the more militant activities, such as the planned “rush” on Parliament, over which the arrest with the photographer in the cupboard took place, weren’t violent.  60,000 people attended that.  Sixty thousand.  Still, nothing was done.  And this wasn’t some sort of ultra-conservative government.  This was the reforming government which introduced Old Age Pensions and National Insurance.  And showed some sympathy for Irish Home Rule.

And this same government, the great Liberal reforming government, was the one which force-fed women on hunger strike.  Marion Wallace Dunlop, who deserves to be better-known than she was, was the driving force behind hunger striking – and it was really the first time that this tactic had been used.  It’s used a lot now, but it was new then.  And it’s horrible, but it’s very clever.  What do the authorities do?  Let people die?  Create martyrs?  Be seen as murderers?   They didn’t want to do that, so, instead, they fed them by force.  The descriptions of this, and they’re pretty well-known even if the name of Marion Wallace Dunlop isn’t, are horrific.  The bravery of the women who endured it, some of them over and over again, was incredible.  Doctors protested.  Public sympathy for the suffragettes increased.

And a truce was called.  At last, Parliament addressed the subject of women’s suffrage.  In came the first Conciliation Bill, which would have granted some women the vote.  It passed its first reading.  It passed its second reading.  But that was as far as it got.  Asquith refused to allow it any more parliamentary time.  Lucy said that it got lost amid all the chaos of the People’s Budget.  Two general elections in one year.  Reform of the House of Lords – and what a great shame that they didn’t just abolish it.  I’m not sure that I entirely agree with that, though.

Yes, there was a lot going on at the time.  Social reform.  The Irish Question.  Concerns about Germany.  But many of the leading Conservatives and Liberals just weren’t prepared to give women the vote, and that wasn’t just about misogyny – that women weren’t intelligent enough to understand politics, or were ruled by their emotions and couldn’t make sensible decisions, or were so soft that they’d oppose declaring war if it came to it -, it was also about self -interest and both parties believing that they’d lose out if women got the vote.  The Liberals had won by an absolute landslide in the “free trade” election of 1906.  After the second of the two elections in 1910, they could only hold on to power by forming a coalition with the Irish Nationalists, but they were still the biggest single party.  Some Conservatives, believing that women would vote as their husbands or fathers told them (seriously), thought that giving the vote to women would just double the Liberals’ advantage.  Some Liberals, on the other hand, thought that women were “conservative” by nature and that giving the vote to women would boost the Conservatives.  And some amongst both the Liberals and Conservatives thought that giving the vote to women would lead to universal male suffrage and boost the rise of the Labour Representation Committee.

Whatever the reason, the bill got chucked out – but it had got a lot of support from MPs.  That was the first bill, in 1910.  The second Conciliation Bill, introduced as a Private Members’ Bill, in 1911, passed its first reading.  Asquith tried to change things by proposing a bill to introduce universal male suffrage, and the whole thing got dropped.  In 1912, the third Conciliation Bill was narrowly defeated, and this seems to’ve been because the Irish Nationalists voted against their Liberal coalition allies because of fears that it’d take attention and parliamentary time away from the issue of Home Rule.

So what was going on?  Did MPs think that other issues were more important?  Or were they just making excuses because they weren’t prepared, when push came to shove, to see any women get the vote.  A bill to introduce universal male suffrage was also introduced in 1912, but got nowhere either.  But the first two Conciliation Bills did get passed, as far as they were allowed to, and the third one came close.

Was it all about Asquith?  The WSPU certainly seem to have blamed Asquith.  Whatever the truth of it, and it’s hard to assess, the mood turned more militant – especially after the disgraceful events of “Black Friday”, in November 1910, when, after the abandonment of the first Conciliation Bill, hundreds of suffragettes protesting outside Parliament were “kettled” – a controversial procedure still in use – and treated very brutally by police brought in from the East End.  There were tens of serious injuries.  Two women, including one of Emmeline Pankhurst’s sisters, died as a probable result of their injuries – which the programme didn’t actually mention.  Others were sexually assaulted by policemen who pulled their skirts up and twisted their breasts.  There were calls for a public inquiry.  They were ignored.  It’s beyond appalling that something like this should have happened in Westminster, and it says so much about the attitude of men towards women who defied convention, and about the attitude of the Establishment towards those who challenged their authority.  It’s well-named “Black Friday”: it’s a very black day in British history.

Is it any bloody wonder that the suffragettes turned militant after that?  You’re supposed to make your feelings known at the ballot box.  But how do you do that if you aren’t allowed to vote?  Peaceful protests hadn’t worked.  Even with support from MPs, no progress had been made.  But violent protest is wrong.  It has to be.  Smashing shop windows might not have hurt anyone, but it caused thousands of pounds’ worth of damage to the property of people who had nothing to do with the government.  Vandalising letterboxes and telegraph wires caused widespread disruption, and, again, most of those affected had nothing to do with the government.  And it swung public opinion against the suffragettes.  It also lost the support of many MPs – it’s a problem that existed then and a problem that continues to exist, that you do not want to be seen to be giving in to violence.  And it split the WSPU: some of its members thought that things had gone too far.

But else was there to try?  It was an impossible situation.  It is an impossible situation, when those excluded from power are treated in such a way – and it’s why lack of reform has so often led to civil war and or revolution, when that hasn’t been the original aim of those calling for reform.   There aren’t really any answers.  Just the arrogance of the Establishment – towards women, towards working-class men, towards nationalists in Ireland and India.  Sorry, but it’s hard not to go on a rant when you think about all this!   As Lucy said, the militant phase of the suffragette campaign – and she did use the word “terrorism”, and she justified doing that, but I just don’t like it – was wrong, but you can see, and how understand, how it came to that.  Especially the attacks on property, given that the society at the time seemed to value property more than it valued women.

The next part was the phase of the suffragette campaign which is best known.  Arson attacks, letter bombs, vandalism, and, of course, Emily Wilding Davison dying under the hooves of the king’s horse at the Derby.  By this time it was 1913.  Then came the Great War, and then, finally, in 1918, some women were given the vote.  Only in 1928 were women given the vote on equal terms with men.  How long would it have taken for women, and for all men, to be given the vote, had war not come?  We’ll never know.

Lucy summed it all up brilliantly at the end of the programme, saying what an important chapter in British history this was, and how the violence cannot be excused but how it raises crucial questions about who should have a say in running society, how far you should go to get that say, and to what extent does the end justify the means.  Those questions apply to a lot of struggles for civil rights.  They aren’t easy questions.  This programme really made the viewer think about them.  Very, very well done.