In 1915 the best-selling novelist Mrs
Mary Humphrey Ward
published Delia Blanchflower. In many
ways it’s typical romantic fare: a stern guardian to a wilful young heiress
must save her from bad influences before their love can blossom. Much of the
plot revolves around a beautiful old mansion called Monk Lawrence. It belongs
to an anti-suffrage Government minister. A militant suffragette called Gertrude
Marvell has her eye on the old place. Gertrude is a harsh, ruthless woman who
is unmoved by Delia’s pleas to spare the “beautiful and historic” house. The
inevitable happens: the house goes up in smoke and with it the “beauty of four
centuries”. A crippled child also dies in the fire, as does Gertrude herself.
Behind the melodrama is a very real
sense of loss, and although Monk Lawrence is fictitious, Delia Blanchflower expresses something of people’s actual experiences
of suffragette militancy. Begbrook Mansion in Frenchay, near Bristol was a fine
old house until it was destroyed by arson. The ancient church of Wargrave,
Reading was wrecked by fire, to the profound grief of the parishioners. When
Mary Richardson slashed a painting known as the Rokeby Venus,
artist Laurence Housman, a long-time supporter of the suffrage campaign, said
he felt it like “a stab in the back”.
Wargrave Church, Reading, 1 June 1914 |
So
there’s nothing remarkable in Mrs Ward’s opposition to suffragette militancy.
Many people who supported the female franchise detested militant tactics. But
Mrs Ward was not only opposed to militancy: she did not want women to have the
vote. In 1908 she accepted an invitation from anti-suffrage leaders Lords
Curzon and Cromer to join the National Women’s Anti-Suffrage League. The Women’s
League later combined with the Men’s League to form the National League for
Opposing Women’s Suffrage. Mrs Ward’s opposition to votes for women has baffled
many biographers, who describe her involvement with the anti-suffrage movement as
a mistake, or account for it in psychological terms as a desire to please
father figures – her own father having been a distant presence in her
childhood.
That
childhood was spent first in Tasmania. She was born in Hobart on 11 June 1851,
the granddaughter of Dr Thomas Arnold of Rugby, and niece of Matthew Arnold.
Her family returned to England in 1856, and Mary Arnold spent the next few
years at a series of boarding schools offering the sketchy education considered
suitable for girls. One of these was in Clifton, Bristol, between 1864 and
1867, when she returned to her family in Oxford. She married Thomas Humphry
Ward, a newly elected fellow at Brasenose College, in 1871. Ward had to
relinquish his fellowship on marriage. He later joined The Times as a leader writer and art critic, and the family moved
to London in 1881. The Times was to
be a useful outlet for Mrs Ward’s anti-suffrage views, and published her
articles and letters on the subject.
She
campaigned energetically for the anti-suffrage movement, travelling up and down
the country to make speeches. She spoke in Bristol’s Victoria Rooms in 1909,
and was one of the speakers at a major anti-suffrage meeting in the Colston
Hall in Bristol in 1912. On that occasion, Bristol MP Charles Hobhouse, a fellow
anti-suffrage campaigner, was heckled by a suffragette who was found, after
some confusion, hiding in the organ loft. After her ejection other women
interrupted him with cries of “Rubbish!” and “Votes for Women!”
Mrs
Ward was not heckled on that occasion, although many of her other speeches were
not greeted with such forbearance. She was interrupted at a meeting in Queen’s
Hall, London in 1909, during which she announced that the Anti Suffrage League
had collected 250,000 petitions on an anti-suffrage petition. In 1910 in an
article in The Times she said much of
this support came from working-class women. She refused to speak at the Albert
Hall in 1912 because of suffragette threats to interrupt the meeting with
megaphones and stink bombs.
She
led an anti-suffrage deputation to Prime Minister Henry Asquith in 1911 which
had the satisfactory result of prompting the Prime Minister to voice his
opinion that the inclusion of women’s suffrage in his forthcoming reform bill
would be a disaster. She pushed her son Arnold into politics, and as a Member
of Parliament he campaigned against the female franchise. In 1913 he introduced
a resolution to reject a suffrage bill; the bill was rejected by forty seven
votes.
Yet
Mrs Ward had been an early campaigner for women’s right to education. She was involved
in the Lectures for Women Committee in Oxford, which led to the establishment
of Somerville College in 1879. She was secretary of the College between 1879
and 1881. She also carried out pioneering work for the education of disabled
children, and founded a settlement in London devoted to offering education to
working class children. She was a “self-made woman” who earned a fortune from
her writing. Her work was highly valued by William Gladstone and Theodore
Roosevelt, and she counted amongst her friends Henry James and Henry Asquith.
For a woman who achieved so much,
Mrs Ward’s belief that the Parliamentary vote would inflict “lasting injury” on
women is at first sight perplexing. Yet it was a view she held consistently
over many years. As early as 1889 she collected signatures for a petition
against a suffrage bill, which declared that women had reached the limits of
their emancipation. She argued that men and women moved in complementary
spheres, and although she opposed women’s involvement in national politics she
encouraged women to get involved in local government. But the crux of her
argument was that the women’s franchise would put the country in danger. We
live, she declared in The Times (4
June 1910), in “a complicated and dangerous world”. The nation could not afford
to let women’s political inexperience interfere with the “executive power of
men, and therefore the strength and safety of our country”.
Mrs Ward suffered for the stance she
took. She was forced off the Board of the National Union of Women Workers when
it took up a pro-suffrage stance, and her links with Somerville College became untenable.
Perhaps there was an element of retaliation in her accusation that girls’
schools and colleges – Cheltenham Ladies’ College amongst them – were staffed
by strident suffragists. But she did not waver from her opinions. When other
anti-suffragists like Henry Asquith, politician Walter Long, who had been Conservative
MP for South Bristol between 1900 and 1906, and Lord Curzon, then President of
the National League for Opposing Women Suffrage, had abandoned their
opposition, she continued to argue against votes for women.
Mrs Ward went on to offer the services
of her pen to the war effort, in particular with her 1916 book England’s Effort: Six Letters to an American
Friend, written to encourage America to join the war. In the book Mrs Ward,
who had described suffragette arsonists and bombers as rash and disgusting,
eulogised the “young and comely” girls who were making fuses, detonators and cartridge
cases, and packing bombs with “death-dealing” explosives. As “to the problem of
what is to be done with the women after the war,” she said airily, “one may
safely leave it to the future.”
Her son Arnold’s gambling losses all
but bankrupted her in 1919. Critics usually attribute a failure in her powers
as a novelist to the fact that she was forced to churn out books in order to
earn money to pay his debts. In 1919 she was awarded the CBE. She died in
London on 24 March 1920 and was buried at the church of St John the Baptist,
Aldbury, near the mansion she had bought years before with the proceeds of her
novels.
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