Theatrical and Literary Representations in the Cult of Great Women: The Women Writers’ Suffrage League, the Actresses’ Franchise League and Other Women Workers for the Cause

Many of Connell’s portraits of theatrical and literary women, as well as those of other women workers for the cause, have survived in framed Suffrage Shop mats, the signature of the shop represented by intertwining green and white initials. One such example is her darkly lit, ­three-quarter length representation of Cicely Hamilton in the role of Mrs. Knox from the George Bernard Shaw play called Fanny’s First Play (fig. 63).

Fig. 63: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Cicely Hamilton as Mrs. Knox in George Bernard Shaw’s Fanny’s First Play, c. 1911. Photograph in Suffrage Shop mat (Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

The International Suffrage Shop (ISS), also called the Suffrage Shop, was first located at the home of actress and suffragist Edith Craig at 31, Bedford Street, but was soon centrally located on Adam Street along the Strand in London, opposite the Adelphi Theatre, its goal being “broad propaganda” and in this spirit it did not restrict itself to supporting any one suffrage society.1 Among its honorary organizers was one of Connell’s sitters, Lilian M. Hicks. The fact that neither Connell nor the shop restricted themselves to one suffrage group meant for a much broader distribution of suffrage materials than would otherwise be the case.

During the period 1911–13, the ISS was struggling to survive, however. As a result, its members launched innovative fundraisers such as a Carnival Party with hostesses who included Charlotte Despard and Louise Jopling Rowe, the latter an important painter who was widely connected and whose portrait I discussed in chapter two. By 1913 the ISS also housed a lending library for men and women by subscription whose collections included books relating to the feminist movement. They also put on benefit performances of feminist plays. One such event was the dual production of A Coronation Play produced by Edith Craig and written by her female partner Christopher St John (pen name of Christabel Marshall), and George Bernard Shaw’s The Man of Destiny. In the publication for the event, an advertisement announced that the Shop sold “books, plays, Parliamentary Bills, Suffrage literature of all kinds—photographs,” and it aimed “for the publication and dissemination of literature dealing with every aspect of the Women’s Movement.” Also, within the program was notice of its special books, including Cicely Hamilton and Edith Craig’s play, A Pageant of Great Women. This one document then, brought together several genres of suffrage material that the suffrage women produced. In this context, it demonstrated how the shop sat at the center of the distribution of such theatrical and literary feminist propaganda and provided a centralized location for bringing their work to the public.2

In one of the few studies devoted to women photographers of Connell’s era, Val Williams situates Connell’s portraits of professional women as part of such a feminist propaganda machine at the same time that she situates the activity in Connell’s elegant London studio. Williams discusses one of Connell’s image of actress Cicely Hamilton, published as a postcard (perhaps one of the series of her in jacket and loose tie, such as fig. 64)

Fig. 64: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Cicely Hamilton, c. 1908 (photograph © The March of the Women Collection/Mary Evans Picture Library).

and her academic portrait of Mrs. Margaret Wynne Nevinson (fig. 65),

Fig. 65: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Mrs. Margaret Wynne Nevinson, c. 1910 (photograph Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

as well as her double portrait of playwright/actress team, Edith Craig and Cicely Hamilton (fig. 66).

Fig. 66: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Double Portrait of Edith Craig and Cicely Hamilton, c. 1909 (photograph Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

Williams contemplates that Connell creates “directed picturing in the service of a feminist cause” which “was an important development within women’s photography, and indicated just how effectively studio portraiture could be used in this context.”3

Williams situates Connell’s studio practice as innovative in relationship to the emblemized space of the urban photographer’s studio. According to Alan Trachtenberg, it was “[n]ot a museum of natural history … but a theater of desire; the gallery had become a new kind of city place devoted to performance: the making of oneself over into a social image.”4 In this observation, he addresses the two threads of Connell’s photographic production of actresses and literary greats, along with that of other women workers I focus on in this chapter: (1) performance and (2) a theatre of desire. The ISS, as just one example, not only advertised, but also staged theatrical performances as places of desire for change. Cicely Hamilton herself conflates these two threads in a plea for personal pride within political intentions and representation in a rebellious context, speaking of

…the force of a womanhood conscious of its own individuality, conscious of latent capacities and eager, fiercely eager, to develop them—a womanhood that declines to see life henceforth only through the eyes of men, and will take upon its own soul the responsibility for its own actions.5

As I have already unpacked in the introduction, a woman’s visibility in the modern urban environment dates back at least to the late Victorian period. But, within the suffrage movement of the Edwardian period and beyond, these activists focused on the new challenge of representing themselves as examples of change. Their ­new-found visibility is reflected in their performances of suffrage plays, and in their individual careers as women workers of the modern moment.

In this context, the performance of female agency was front and center. As Wendy Parkins argues in terms of how the suffrage women dressed themselves for public presentation:

“Ladies” speaking in public places such as Trafalgar Square, a public space already politicized through its association with previous protest movements (such as the labour movement), identified themselves as public, political subjects who claimed a right to be heard in the political domain. In the process, they hailed other women to identify themselves as public subjects with a shared potentiality for feminist agency. The daring publicity of such moments of suffragette protest may also be thought of as acts of “diva citizenship” which, according to Laura Berlant, are moments of risk when a “person stages a dramatic coup in a public sphere in which she does not have privilege.”6

I will return to the “diva citizenship” context in chapter four when I look at suffrage women’s transgressive and transformative behaviors in relation to Connell’s portraits. But here it is important to emphasize the risky, outsider position of these brave women, doubly so for the actresses and playwrights when we consider that theatre women still had a suspect reputation as loose women (although that was changing, partly through these women’s own efforts). As Carolyn Marie Tilghman argues:

Actresses were simultaneously celebrated and disparaged by the audiences who went to see them. Even though they were adored by their audiences and the most famous of them, like Ellen Terry … fraternized with the aristocracy, they were also, like prostitutes, regarded as public women and, like prostitutes and ­working-class women, tainted by their association with earned money.7

Similarly suspect was any other woman who dared to earn a living and assert her voice in the public arena, one in which she had no legitimate, legal place. As Laura Berlant further explains of the “diva citizenship” position in this context:

Flashing up and startling the public, she puts the dominant story into suspended animation; as though recording an estranging ­voice-over to a film we have all already seen, she ­re-narrates the dominant history as one that the abjected people have once lived sotto voce, but no more; and she challenges her audience to identify with the enormity of the suffering she has narrated and the courage she has had to produce, calling on people to change the social and institutional practices of citizenship to which they currently consent.8

For them to write and perform their own propaganda plays in which they demanded the vote in order to become citizens, was indeed a “dramatic coup.” Further, to have their portraits done, in the role of actresses, stage directors, and workers for an ­often-suspect cause, gave them double agency.

The Formation of the Women Writers’ Suffrage League and the Actresses’ Franchise League

In order to further contextualize Connell’s portraits of professional actresses and writers, as well as other women workers for the cause, it is necessary to understand their place within the historical structure of suffrage propaganda. In this regard, theatre historian Sheila Stowell argues, “There is no doubt that suffrage drama was written as part of a consciously organized scheme to propagate political doctrine and advocate social and cultural changes which would contribute to the dismantling of a system based upon patriarchal oppression. To that extent it is unabashedly feminist propaganda….”9

This kind of publicity was promulgated through Hamilton’s creation of the Women Writers’ Suffrage League (WWSL) whose members wrote the plays that the Actresses’ Franchise League (AFL) then presented. Working with journalist and playwright Bessie Hatton, she founded the WWSL in June 1908 and its members included such important writers as Madame Sarah Grand, May Sinclair and Olive Schreiner, with Elizabeth Robins serving as first President. Its goal was to secure suffrage for women through the pen’s persuasion and it offered its women writers “a new degree of professionalism.”10 As its “sister society,” also founded in 1908, the AFL was open to anyone involved in the theatrical profession. Its goals included “educating the theatrical profession about female enfranchisement … and of making the services of its members available to other suffrage societies for fundraising or propaganda purposes through staging of plays and entertainments.”11 Both groups were neutral, neither militant nor constitutionalist. Instead, they encouraged honest debate across feminist groups. Craig and Hamilton were in the AFL ranks, along with others who included Lena Ashwell, Muriel Matters, and Maud ­Arncliffe-Sennett.

Beyond the production of plays, however, both the WWSL and the AFL were heavily involved in the enterprise of other forms of visibility, Connell’s portraits of them being one piece in the complex puzzle of representation of performance and a theatre of desire. For example, Naomi Paxton and Barbara Green emphasize both their impactful prominence at suffrage events and their participation in “decorative performances of street theater.”12 Visual evidence of such a ­newly-formed street event exists in the WWSL photograph showing Hamilton with the WWSL banner in Women Writers’ Suffrage League Forming Up for the Women’s Coronation Procession in 1911, which also possibly includes the playwright Beatrice Harraden in the black hat and long black gloves (fig. 67).

Fig. 67: Women Writers’ Suffrage League forming up for the Women’s Coronation Procession, with Cicely Hamilton standing in the foreground in a white suit and (possibly) Beatrice Harraden behind her in the black gloves, 1911 (photograph Museum of London).

Mary Lowndes designed the banner and Mrs. Herringham of the Artists’ Suffrage League worked it from black and white velvet applique; it depicted a black crow surmounted by a quill with the word “Writers” on it.13

The contents of the AFL plays mirror such public street movements. One example is the inclusion of suffrage newspaper sellers in AFL plays, such as in Beatrice Harraden’s Lady Geraldine’s Speech; a harried, fatigued typist Nellie Grant sells Votes for Women newspapers in her spare hours.

The Pageant of Great Women and Connell’s Promotional Role

As part of the suffrage campaign, our early feminists were finding ways to merge the histories of important women predecessors with their own identities. Historical women were important for them in terms of offering up arguments of women in earlier civilizations who both held and wielded power. Thus, within the theatrical representations feminist actresses often honored earlier actresses, as was the case with Hamilton and Craig’s play, A Pageant of Great Women. Further, the performed Pageant itself mirrored the historical pageants that the suffrage women organized for their campaign marches. In both instances, that is, this play, and the large pageants that inspired it, suffrage women would take on the personas of important historical women, from the ancient Celtic Queen Bodica forward.14

Related to this historical positioning is another estimation of the importance of women photographers as professionals by Madame Philonie Yevonde. In a 1921 article, she acknowledges that British women had been involved in portrait photography since its invention in the 19th century. She cites the innovative work of Julia Margaret Cameron in her illustrations of Lord Tennyson’s poems, for example, along with the portrait work of Miss Lallie Charles, an important society photographer and Yevonde’s own mentor. Cameron’s imaginative portraits of models in the roles of characters from literature offer a rich precedent for Connell’s work with actresses for the Pageant. This is the case in Connell’s portraits of Craig as Rosa Bonheur and that of her famed actress mother, Ellen Terry, represented as the ­18th-century actress Nance Oldfield (figs. 3 and 4 in the Introduction). Both photographs had a double public impact because they were included in Hamilton’s 1910 catalog to accompany the Pageant, as well as being two of Connell’s entries at the exhibitions of the Royal Photographic Society in London (see Appendix). Hence, we see that there were various methods that Connell used to distribute her portraits of suffragists, honor the path that historical women created, and allow an audience to witness the efforts of the literary and dramatic groups.

Within Hamilton’s Pageant, which is dedicated to Craig, “whose ideas these lines were written to illustrate” we see a literal manifestation of their joint efforts: Hamilton groups women under different categories, starting with learned women, who include Jane Austen and Madame Curie; artists, such as Sappho, Rosa Bonheur and Nance Oldfield, among others; saintly women, such at St. Hilda (often played by Charlotte Despard complete with wimple); heroic women, such as Charlotte Corday; the rulers, such as Victoria and Elizabeth I; and the warriors, including Joan of Arc and Bodica.15 Just as Connell’s portraits do not imitate representations of famous men, so the Pageant, according to Katharine Cockin, “did not insert women into existing patriarchal history; the great women replace, rather than correspond to, androcentric history. Suffragists became actively involved in producing women’s history.”16

Framing the entire sequence of such women in the Pageant catalog is Connell’s portrait of Cicely Hamilton as “Woman” (fig. 68) which was the frontispiece of one version of the catalog.17

Fig. 68: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Cicely Hamilton as “Woman,” from A Pageant of Great Women, 1910. Photograph from catalog of A Pageant of Great Women (Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

This character’s lines mirror Hamilton’s own rethinking of feminist politics in their resistance to, and understanding of, the eroding authority of the Edwardian period which made room for feminists’ public presence and alternative lifestyles. In the character of Woman, Hamilton stands in for women’s voices for change in this age of uncertainty, querying the character of Prejudice throughout the play. Connell presents Hamilton as Woman in an exquisitely elegant, long white gown. She opens the play that Craig determined to be one of “grandeur and spectacle”; Craig realized audiences “wanted something to expand their horizons and make them more aware of women’s achievement, as well as works which reflected their own, more limited experience.”18 Cockin argues that the productions themselves promoted women’s ability to make history, and further, to create messages that were dependent on staging in an active manner rather than the static manner of the published play.19 Imagine then the visual impact of fifty women on stage as a visual body of evidence of women’s prominence. Connell participated in promoting them through the women she portrayed as part of the cult of great women. With such presentations happening all over the country, as Cockin asserts, the message was clear: “Greatness seemed to be within reach of every woman.”20 In this context, Paxton similarly argues that the Pageant was performatively potent:

The fellowship of suffragists and the sisterhood of women combined to create a powerful collective experience that used storytelling and role play to bind individuals together in support of one voice, that of Woman, and one main theme, that of women’s right to be treated equally. The Pageant is an evocative and moving mass experience with two audiences: one watching the piece from the auditorium and one made up of those representing the Great Women onstage, in a mutually satisfying promotion of a new “physical presence.”21

In terms of dissemination of this message to the suffrage population and the general public, the play received much critical acclaim on its first showing at the Scala Theatre, after which it was produced all over England and Scotland between 1909 and 1912. The Daily Mirror front page from November 13, 1909, which Maud ­Arncliffe-Sennett inserted in her scrapbook, reproduced images of many of the actresses under the title “­Well-Known Actresses Appear as Famous Women in a Pageant Advocating the Cause of Votes for Women.” It included Connell’s photograph of Terry as Nance Oldfield as just one more example of the ways that Connell’s suffrage imagery of this cult of great women reached a wider public.22

Julie Holledge punctuates such a stance through her characterization of the Pageant as a play that berated men for treating women as sex objects, then criticizing them for what they became. The Pageant, she argues, offers an alternative view of women, showcasing them as characters “who demonstrate the physical, intellectual, creative and ethical strengths of women.”23 What was so unique about the Pageant, as reported in Votes for Women, was that there were no plays before this production that treated women as individuals. Rather, the theatre had long focused on representations of women who operated

on the level of housekeeping machines or bridge players; the actual or potential property of some man, valuable or worthless as the case may be. It is strange to go out of the world where women are fighting for freedom, into the theatre, where the dramatist appears unaffected by this new Renaissance.24

Tilghman also addresses this incongruity in her analysis of the suffrage plays which worked consciously to counteract these ­one-dimensional portrayals of traditional women in melodramas. At the same time, however, they took their lead from the progressive playwrights of the previous generations who had made inroads: Henrik Ibsen, Oscar Wilde and George Bernard Shaw.25

Connell honored the professional theatre partnership of Craig and Hamilton in a unique double portrait, commemorating them a year before they launched their joint effort of the Pageant (fig. 66). Connell captures their intensity, youth and enthusiastic energy for the cause. At a time when Christabel Pankhurst often made herself and the WSPU unpopular by calling for “Votes for Women and Chastity for Men,” many women began to form such close working and intimate relationships with other women. The image is much more informal than Connell’s individual portraits of the two women: here they are chummy and physically intimate, Hamilton presented as focused and in a confident pose, all admiration as she turns to look fondly at Craig. Craig herself is relaxed, but wears the requisite whistle of the director, a woman in charge of a stage! The image reflects Hamilton’s thinking in organizing the WWFL, as Lis Whitelaw explains:

Cicely’s belief that women writers would enjoy belonging to an organization where they could use their talents for the cause and also meet socially to discuss matters of mutual interest was soon proved correct. As a writer herself she knew what a lonely occupation it could be and rightly suspected that she was not alone in finding a new and exhilarating camaraderie in the suffrage campaign.26

Attached to this “camaraderie,” Whitelaw concludes that Hamilton’s professional presence and her life more generally can be categorized within a lesbian context. She asserts that Hamilton

had a large circle of women friends with some of whom she was intimate and among her intimates were women who can definitely be described as lesbians. She lived her life in a complex network of women, literary, theatrical and political [lights], and men are notable by their absence.27

To determine such a stance would mean that Connell was one of the first photographers to both honor and represent such intimacies. In chapter two we have already seen her picture Evelina Haverfield, lover to Vera (Jack) Holme, who was part of this same circle of women intimates. In addition, Craig had a ­life-long partner in Christabel Marshall (pen name Christopher St John) and they later shared a house with Clare “Tony” Atwood at Smallhythe in Kent. Hamilton often visited, forming both a working and a personal relationship with the trio. Thus, Connell presents an alternative view of women both as business partners and as part of an unorthodox community of women, a representation we have not seen before this time in photographic portraits in England. Their appearance and its message in this double portrait mirror what the writers were doing in terms of creating innovative presentations of women in their plays. As Tilghman asserts, for example:

In order to successfully effect a transformational change in public perception that permitted women to manifest the attributes of hardiness, intelligence, and agency, suffrage playwrights had to present their characters in alternative roles, which persuasively called into question the tidy, definitive stereotypes that were used to bolster the social order. It meant giving female characters voice, volition and the vote, while making assertive women appear normal in a patriarchal culture that … was designed to control unruly women through containment.28

The characters in the plays, like these real, breathing women Connell was depicting, maintained “personal agency and ingenuity that allowed them to triumph over the restricted and adverse circumstances in which they found themselves.”29

Such portrayals talk back to ­anti-suffrage imagery which often conflated the ugly harridan suffragette with a supposed lesbian appearance. For example, in an analysis of the ­anti-suffrage postcard A Perfect Woman, 1912, by John Hassall, Rosemary Betterton unpacks it as both hysterical (she waves her arm in an uncontrollable way while screaming) and masculine (read as lesbian), the latter charge apparent in the woman’s unattractive appearance, gawking face and forthright posture. Thus, she argues, the image creates “an ambivalent sexual identity.” Betterton asserts that such a positioning is problematic for suffrage women who “had to represent themselves as feminine and yet different from other women, without appearing to transgress sexual boundaries.”30 Later in her essay, she acknowledges the existence of personal relationships among suffrage women who were beginning to “acknowledge their divergence from conventional sexual codes,” yet remained clandestine in nature.31 How then to represent them? Teresa ­Billington-Greig of the WFL critiqued the purity campaign which argued that women were pure and men needed to clean up their act, literally. Instead she called for

a recognition that if feminism was to challenge the old sexual divisions which emerged with industrial capitalism at the beginning of the ­nineteenth-century, it had to claim a different space for women in modernity. It had to find new concepts and representations to articulate the presence of women in public and political space which did not call upon notions of women’s innate purity and bodily sacrifice in order to assert their political rights.32 [My emphasis]

My response is then, what works? Connell’s dignified portrayal of these women, both in partnership and in individual images, seemingly talks back to this concept of the masculinized lesbian type that was so central to the ­anti-suffrage visual discourse.

Scholars of lesbian culture such as Cockin and Martha Vicinus have been able to unearth evidence that shows that some of these suffrage groups consisted of lesbian communities, but not necessarily ones that they could advertise publicly with impunity. Such evidence suggests that these communities had to maintain invisibility.33

If such lesbian communities preserved their invisibility, operating as discreet associations of ­women-only relationships, then, as Vicinus determines, “the question of when the modern lesbian identity arose and under what circumstances” is important to identify for our suffrage women.34 Such a positioning allows us to consider our timeframe in relation to the shifting identity of these women as New Women, a topic that takes us back to the Lorimer sisters in Amy Levy’s The Romance of a Shop. As Carroll ­Smith-Rosenberg observes:

The New Woman challenged existing gender relations and the distribution of power. By defining her as physiologically “unnatural,” the symptom of a diseased society, those whom she threatened reaffirmed the legitimacy and the “naturalness” of the bourgeois order. By insisting on their own social and sexual legitimacy in words formed out of a century of women’s reform rhetoric, the New Woman repudiated that order.35

Thus, we need to position Connell’s portraits both within the conversation of women’s intimate relationships and within the dialogue over the New Woman. ­Smith-Rosenberg conflates these identities, as many writers did during the time period. Both were outliers who, “repudiated that order.” Such an acknowledgment makes Connell’s double portrait of Craig and Hamilton all that much more significant. Further, these ­women-only circles owed allegiance to the single women of the Victorian period who forged paths for women’s education and women’s communities. Vicinus asserts, “A closer examination of the personal lives and public careers of single women reveals no simple picture of either passive suffering or steady improvement; rather, the women and their institutions appear simultaneously powerful and peripheral.”36 She includes the women of the Edwardian suffragette movement in this assessment, affirming them, as evidenced in many of Connell’s portraits, as strong because the culture marginalized them.37 Certainly this was Craig’s own stance, particularly in the Connell portrait of her as Rosa Bonheur (fig. 3 in the Introduction) which Rose Collis argues acknowledged her own identification with her predecessor in terms of living as a lesbian:

In an area of the arts where women often fell by the wayside while their male counterparts prospered, Bonheur scaled heights of commercial and critical success previously unknown to a female artist. Furthermore, she achieved her success while living openly and uncompromisingly with other women, largely independent of her parents. All this would invariably strike a chord with someone like Edy Craig … who may have found that the London theatrical establishment was not as accepting of overt lesbians as it was of overt gay men.38

Thus, Connell’s double portrait of Craig and Hamillton is especially important in creating a space for Craig’s representation as lesbian both within the suffrage movement and within theatre circles.39

Whether or not these women had sexually intimate relationships, they formed strong women’s communities that offered an alternative to conventional marriage.40 Cockin has examined many of the suffrage plays in this lesbian context, determining that in their critique of marriage in which they “exposed the economic determinants and the ideological basis of marriage so that is was seen as a choice rather than a necessity” these suffrage theatre women created their own alternative lifestyle, “[t]he rejection of marriage … represented as possible through the support of other women.”41

That said, the purpose then of Connell’s double portrait would seem to be to honor the two threads of performance and the theatre of desire, along with “diva citizenship,” with Craig and Hamilton, the two central characters of the two leagues in question, caught by Connell’s camera in a moment of mutual admiration. It is a visual demonstration of not only a female gaze, but also a feminist one in which the sitters are joined by a shared desire to promote positive changes for women. This portrait and the others in this grouping, then, literally embody a sense of protest, a desire for transformation, and resistance to the status quo through their alternative lifestyle which Connell readily represents and celebrates.

In the context of asserting a woman’s alternative sexuality within representations of suffrage women, Cockin suggests that discussions of celibacy or virginity “sometimes provided a space in which ­same-sex desire could be envisaged as something other than immature or defective, other than the exceptional, freakish, pathological ‘invert’ or ‘intermediate sex’ of the sexologists.”42 Vicinus also positions representations of lesbians in this context:

From its very inception, lesbian studies has been concerned with “making visible” the lesbian of the present and the past. This process of reclamation has focused almost entirely upon the mannish woman because she has been the one most obviously different from other women—and men. What does this insistence on visibility do to notions of both femininity and feminism? Are we fixated on visibly marked difference, whether it be a “performed” gender or a gendered identity, because the explicitness of our age demands clear erotic signals?43

Thus, Connell makes visible a different kind of lesbian relationship, not a “mannish” one, not even one between two lesbian erotic partners, but rather one between two lesbian business partners. She elides these other categories, honoring instead a new kind of desire, one tied to visibility, but visibility for a cause that will move such women from the margins to the center of dialogue, to the theatre’s center stage in its performativity.

In this double portrait’s regard for an innovative discourse, it is worth comparing it to another double portrait that honors a feminist partnership, albeit a heterosexual one between a husband and wife, Ford Madox Brown’s Mr. and Mrs. Henry Fawcett I first discussed in chapter two (fig. 32). Brown’s portrait was unique at the time he created it. We have no other such double portrait in the portraiture canon until we arrive at Connell’s alternative one of Craig and Hamilton.44 The physical intimacy of the theatre couple mirrors that of the earlier one, Hamilton as focused on Craig as Millicent is focused on her husband. Connell represents Hamilton in her role as Craig’s visionary, turning her plays into performance, just as Millicent is represented as helpmate to her husband, literally his eyes in terms of deciphering Parliamentary documents. It is unclear whether or not Connell had this earlier portrait in mind when she captured Craig and Hamilton in her 1909 portrait, but, as discussed in chapter two, she would have had opportunities to see it. Further, the two partnerships are connected through suffrage lines; Garrett Fawcett’s career blossomed in conjunction with that of her husband, fueling the cause which Connell, along with her sitters, later joins. Both embrace a feminist gaze and celebrate it, though only the latter expresses the activist efforts of the female sex only. Of course, we must acknowledge what a significant shift the portrait thus represents.

Portraits of Professional Actresses Beyond the Pageant Project

Cicely Hamilton (1872–1952)

Connell’s forthright portrait of Cicely Hamilton (fig. 64) reflects her assertive ­self-presentation, with her left hand on her hip in a commanding attitude while she leans her right arm out to extend over a dark cushion. She is seated in an open pose of engaged animation with the viewer, leaning slightly forward. Her individual means of dressing professionally entails wearing a tailored suit, blouse and loose, artistic tie. A ­head-and-shoulders view, probably from the same sitting since she wears the same attire and hairstyle (fig. 31 in chapter one), similarly presents Hamilton’s ­self-assurance in her countenance. Hamilton must have been particularly fond of this portrait as a slightly different posing from the same sitting graces the article dedicated to her in The Vote and it also appears in her autobiography.45

Katrina Rolley asserts that Hamilton’s air of independence is reflected in the clothing she dons in such Connell portraits, since she rejected any ideals of womanhood. Rolley does outline, however, Hamilton’s attempt to dress more conventionally when speaking on the platform as a representative of the WSPU, in order to gain votes for women.46 Whitelaw observes of Hamilton in this context, that “[s]he was a very ­good-looking woman but without the flamboyant beauty of Ashwell [Lena Ashwell, actress and suffragist discussed later in this chapter]…. And this lack of flamboyance was … intentional, part of her resistance.”47 In this regard, we must consider another Connell portrait of Cicely Hamilton in Pleated Jacket (fig. 69), which depicts her in a modern pleated jacket, short tie, and skirt.

Fig. 69: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Cicely Hamilton in Pleated Jacket, c. 1910. Photograph with embossed studio stamp (Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

Her candor is demonstrated in the strong positioning of her hand on her knee, her rather urgent posture forward toward the viewer, and the intent expression on her face. These portraits mirror Hamilton’s own vision of suffrage women at the modernist moment. She proclaims in a speech from 1911:

It is only within the last generation that we have found we have a brain and a mind, and begun to stumble slowly forward, and to bring a new view to bear upon things as they are, and not only upon things as they ought to be. I have said before now that I think it is an enormous privilege to live at this time, and to be a woman, not only because we are advancing in so many material and political ways, but because we have, even the oldest of us, felt a touch of the spirit which is in the youth of the world. [W]e see things very differently from the way our mothers saw them.48

All of the Hamilton portraits shown here, including the ones of her in her role as actress, exemplify this new view. As a member of the new age, one of these Hamilton portraits (fig. 64) closely parallels Gwen John’s ­Self-Portrait, c. 1900 (fig. 70).

Fig. 70: Gwen John (1876–1939), Self-Portrait, c. 1900. Oil on canvas (National Portrait Gallery, London).

Gwen John, who was a young artist at the Slade School just prior to doing the portrait, presents herself in the same ­self-congratulatory way as we see Connell position Hamilton. Placing one hand on her hip, she looks at us directly with a firm, determined expression, her posture erect and in charge in the same way that we experience Hamilton’s attitude of defiance. Alicia Foster has positioned John’s portrait in relation to John’s and her fellow female students’ experiences at the Slade in 1890s London. Thus, she argues, it exists as an “alternate document of women’s different history as art students … than their male counterparts.” The fact that John exhibited it as her first New English Art Club entry in 1900, establishes it “as a compelling statement of feminine artistic identity.”49 Thus, John offers an example for Hamilton’s presentation of an alternative persona in line with her own similar goals of creating a differing identity. Both examples bring the visual conversation forward from the professional women’s portrait examples in the Introduction and even from the examples in the beginning of chapter two, instead embracing themselves as modern women who are making their own way in the world. Hamilton herself argued that:

The cry for the vote is a symptom of the bigger thing, of the blind consciousness of the woman … of the desire, even if it is a blind desire, to do something to justify her place in the world. It is just because I believe in that, that I believe in what we call the Woman’s Suffrage movement.50

This process of intervention was ongoing for suffrage women, with Connell at the center of the debate of how to present them to an ­often-hostile public in a palatable, yet challenging, way. In this same spirit, Foster concludes of John’s ­Self-Portrait that both John and her female counterparts at the Slade could recognize in it the group project of “negotiating their appearance in the city and at the Slade.”51 Without archival evidence about Connell’s viewing habits, it is difficult to know whether or not she saw John’s portrait, but it is visually evident that the two portraits speak to each other directly about a modern woman’s visibility and her command of the modern, urban world.

Another Connell portrait of Hamilton exists in several poses (fig. 63) from her role as Mrs. Knox in Fanny’s First Play, George Bernard Shaw’s suffrage play which was ­well-received in Britain and America. As Claire M. Tylee asserts, “Although it is not about votes for women, I call it a suffrage play because it was … identified as such at the time. Indeed, Shaw himself referred to it as a ‘suffragette play,’” and it was to become his ­longest-running success, initially between 1911–12, and revived in 1915, 1922 and 1931.52 It is a ­play-within-a-play since it details the desire of a woman Cambridge graduate, Fanny, to have her own play performed. Hamilton played the part of Margaret Knox, mother of the liberated young Fanny in the Shaw play. Fanny ends up imprisoned after the ­Oxford-Cambridge boat race for disorderly conduct, much to her mother’s chagrin. Partly as a result of her misconduct, partly due to her identity as a woman, the ­play-within-the-play is performed before a group of professional critics who are kept in the dark as to the identity of the playwright. Tylee opines that

[p]art of the pleasure for the women in the audience at the time was undoubtedly the idea that such an outrageous play is supposed to have been written by a woman—and a suffragette at that. Yet, although Fanny is a suffragette (she “did a month with Lady Constance Lytton”), her play does not discuss or advocate votes for women.53

Yet, while the political stance of Fanny’s play remained unclear, the real critics readily identified Shaw’s play as being a suffragette one, hence mirroring Shaw’s intent.54 Connell’s portraits of Hamilton in the role undoubtedly contributed to this ready identification; Hamilton played the part both in London and on tour. The fact that the portrait exists in a Suffrage Shop mat suggests that Hamilton must have distributed these portraits both to promote the play and the cause. The fact that Connell did several poses of Hamilton in this role attests further to such plans for ready distribution. Thus, like the Connell portraits of Edith Craig as Rosa Bonheur and of Terry as Oldfield (figs. 3 and 4 in the Introduction), it is a double portrait in the sense that it depicts Hamilton in a character role while also honoring her as an actress. Also like these other theatre portraits, it honors her position as an important suffragist for the cause since the portrait is from a suffrage play, in this case by one of the most prominent male suffragists of the time.

Connell’s portraits of Hamilton offer us a mesmerizing, ­self-actuated woman. Her desire and fight for change was written on her body, both in her postures and her attention to the importance of dress and its symbology.

Edith (Edy) Craig (1869–1947)

Edith Craig, pictured here in a straw hat and donning a whistle (fig. 71), seemed to have the same unbounded energy as Hamilton: Connell presents her as confident, ­self-possessed, immeasurably content, with something of her own mother’s beatific expression suggesting a sense of calm, although by many reports she was an exacting director. She looks out over the viewer with a slightly humorous expression on her face.55

Fig. 71: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Edith Craig in Straw Hat, c. 1910s (photograph Museum of London).

In addition to her other efforts, in 1911 she created The Pioneer Players, recruiting Hamilton to be on the committee. It was a

subscription society which put on single performances of plays which would never receive a run in the commercial theatre. The company was feminist rather than suffragist, providing a showcase of women as actors, writers, designers and directors, and also employing women in traditionally male preserves: doing the accounts and the lighting, building scenery, and ­stage-managing.56

Thus, Craig’s custom of employing only women mirrors Connell’s own business practice. Connell acknowledges Craig’s business acumen in terms of presenting the viewer with representations of a woman in charge of the stage. In one such portrait (fig. 72), Connell presents her ­half-length, wearing a long necklace with keys and a whistle on it, alongside her “Votes for Women” sash, while she holds a work folder. Connell presents her in a modest, dark gown. She looks off to the side, not directly at the viewer, a sign of her brilliant mind at work. Her erect posture is somewhat softened by her ­loosely-arranged hair and bemused facial expression.

Fig. 72: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Edith Craig In Suffrage Sash, c. 1910s (photograph Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

Personal accounts of Craig lend evidence to Connell’s accurate capturing of her vivacious spirit, including those of her longtime ­live-in lover and theatre collaborator, Christopher St John. Meeting Craig in London for lunch one day near the Strand, she reports of her lover:

She had not yet reached her thirtieth birthday, but in her dark hair, nearer black than brown, there was already one white lock. Her brown eyes, set wide apart, were perhaps the most beautiful feature of her face. The nose was rather too long, though its upward tilt deceived one about that. The straight lips were a fault in her mouth, which otherwise was very like her mother’s. She had a lovely slender figure in those days, and looked taller than she was (about 5ft. 8in.) owing to her elevation. Her carriage was perfect in its grace…. In repose she was as graceful as in movement…. Edy’s control of her limbs might not have been so remarkable if she had not been trained as a fencer and a dancer.57

Craig’s theatre gifts aided her as director once the suffrage cause called to her. One of her fellow actors, Allan Wade, recalls:

Edy at once put her immense energy to work, organizing and producing plays and pageants, sweeping her friends and acquaintances along into a general whirl of activity for the furtherance of the cause.58

In this context, Connell’s portraits indicate her incredible power as leader of theatre events, her whistle and keys emblematic of her control of the scenes she both directed and in which she sometimes starred. But, further, as Cockin characterizes her career, they reflect her ability to “disrupt preconceptions,” since she walked into a theatre world already centrally inhabited by her mother, Ellen Terry, but yet managed to forge her own place.59

Cockin positions Craig as a young woman coming of age during the time of the New Woman and reaching middle age with the suffrage cause.60 In this context, her choice of clothing was not that of the stereotypical masculine dress caricatured by the press as representative of the mannish New Woman, but rather, like the images of leaders in chapter two, more along the lines of rational dress or dress reform. Craig was no stranger to dress; she was a costume designer in addition to her other theatre roles. In this instance, Cockin asserts that her “insistence on comfort signified a sense of ­self-determination … [as well as] the context of utopian social movements concerned with political change.”61 Hence, her clothing was not only functional for work purposes, but also symbolic of the type of work she was doing for the cause. Performance and a theatre of desire, along with “diva citizenship” conflate in Connell’s portraits of this central figure to the suffrage movement. Connell honors her many roles as actress, stage manager and director, costume designer, friend and companion.

Lena Ashwell (1852–1957; later Lady Simpson, OBE)

Lena Ashwell was a very successful actress and theatre manager. She was known for her vivacious and captivating beauty, an asset to any aspiring actress. A Connell portrait of Ashwell is reproduced in the July 1913 Votes for Women article about her (fig. 73).62

Fig. 73: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Miss Lena Ashwell, c. 1913. Photograph reproduced from Votes for Women, July 4, 1913. (Digital Library, Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

Titled “Diversities of Gifts but the Same Spirit,” the article quotes Ashwell who argues that there are myriad ways to fight for women’s rights. For her, who had always known she was for women’s rights, it came into focus with the founding of the AFL.63 Connell’s portrait mirrors these sentiments, showing her in ­three-quarter length, her hands folded in front of her, wearing a ­full-length gown that suggests a demure personality, but one capable of diplomacy. Ashwell was ambivalent about how her public image affected the attention she received as a celebrity, however. In her memoir, she states:

It was the time of picture postcards, and in every shop there were rows of mine. I was asked out to all sorts of parties by people whom I knew, and those I had never met or heard of; praise from everyone. And yet I used to walk round the theatre in such an agony of nerves that it seemed impossible to go and start to make up. I hated anyone recognizing me or looking at me as if I had just emerged from the Zoo.64

Ashwell’s angst suggests that she was much sought after, both in person and in terms of portraits of her. Photographers seemed to have had more success at portraying Ashwell than did the painters of the time. William Orpen wrote to her in 1911 to request to do a painted portrait, but as Ashwell tells us in her autobiography:

Billie [as she called him] never painted my portrait though I sat like a sphinx for hours on end. I never saw the canvas even, for he threw it on the floor and stamped on it and told me to go away and never come back as my face was never quiet for a minute. Sargent had said that I was impossible to arrest.65

It was with good reason that Ashwell was the center of devotion. Apart from her glamorous looks, her acting talent came to Henry Irving’s attention. As ­actor-manager at the Lyceum in London, he engaged her starting in 1895. Further, she was a successful businesswoman who collaborated readily with other suffrage women. For example, in 1908 she staged and performed in Hamilton’s first play, Diana of Dobson’s, at her own Kingsway Theatre which she opened in 1907.66 This was not her only collaboration with Hamilton for she arranged a production of Hamilton’s sketch How the Vote was Won at the WFL’s Green, White, and Gold Fair. Further, she frequently represented the AFL at rallies and parades “where elegant and popular actresses helped to defuse the habitual hostility of the public toward suffrage marchers.”67

Thus, Ashwell reflected George Bernard Shaw’s characterization of “the emerging phenomenon of the actress in rebellion,” further proclaiming:

The horrible artificiality of that impudent sham, the Victorian womanly woman, a sham manufactured by men for men had become more and more irksome to the best of actresses who had to lend their bodies and souls to it—and by the best of actresses I mean those who had awakeningly truthful minds as well as engaging personalities.68

Ashwell deserves this affirmation, argues Claire Hirshfield, due to her acting choices, since she played many women who were “unfortunates of social life.”69

Connell’s forthright representation of Ashwell becomes even more compelling if we consider Ashwell’s own struggles. For one, she suffered an accidental addiction to cocaine which began with a doctor’s error; she eventually conquered it. But she also suffered in an abusive marriage to an alcoholic whom she was finally able to divorce.70 She eventually married happily to the medical doctor Henry Simpson. But she fought on a professional level as well. Beyond Shaw’s historical commentary, Hirshfield’s contemporary assessment sees that Ashwell’s

­self-fulfillment inevitably encompassed a need to escape the inbred theatrical world and the isolation of [her] profession…. [She] sought an identity not simply as [an actress] but as [a] human [being] participating on equal terms in the social and political life of Edwardian and Georgian England….71

Ashwell used her role as celebrity to further the suffrage cause alongside her theatrical sisters. She took this identity further when, during the First World War, she created the Lena Ashwell Players, whom she took to “Concerts at the Front,” under the auspices of the Women’s Emergency Corps. She was determined to include the contributions of entertainers in the war efforts once the suffrage cause took a back seat. Her war work earned her an OBE, but she continued to create theatre productions for the Lena Ashwell Players.72 Thus, she took her own performance as actress and theatre manager beyond the suffrage years, conflating performance and a theatre of desire with “diva citizenship” on an international scale.

Muriel Matters (later Mrs. ­Matters-Porter, 1877–1969)

Connell’s portraits of Muriel Matters Speaking (fig. 6 in the Introduction) and Miss Muriel Matters (fig. 74) are distinctive in her oeuvre and echo the uniqueness of the sitter, who represented true “diva citizenship.”

Fig. 74: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Muriel Matters, c. 1910. Postcard based on a photograph by Connell. Acquired by Muriel Matters Society from the Hodgson Sisters Collection. Photograph courtesy of Muriel Matters Society, Adelaide, South Australia.

Born in Adelaide and trained as a teacher and elocutionist, she went to London in 1906 already as a citizen and voter in South Australia, where women and the indigenous cultures had earned the vote in 1894 as well as the right to hold positions in Parliament. She traveled to London to further her professional career, but became quickly ensconced in the women’s movement, shocked to find out that while she was already a citizen, her cohorts in the mother country were voteless and citizenless.

Connell’s portraits bear a striking resemblance to Ethel Wright’s 1909 painted portrait of Dame Christabel Pankhurst (see fig. 35) which was on show at the Prince’s Skating Rink Women’s Exhibition of the WSPU in 1909.73 These portraits reflect the concept of a theatre of desire and performance, each suffrage woman using her theatrical skills to create a new representation of an activist woman. Rosie Broadley argues that Wright’s portrait of Christabel mirrors Christabel’s ­self-creation as orator, one which emulated earlier theatrical portrait paintings:

The language of the theatrical portrait, which was developed in the eighteenth century, imparts meaning to every gesture while conveying something of a performer’s dynamism on stage. [Christabel] Pankhurst had been developing her own language of gesture that, combined with her oratory, became a performance worthy of record … both subject and artist … fashioning a new visual identity for political women.74

This positioning takes us back to the Craig portrait as Rosa Bonheur and the Terry portrait as Nance Oldfield from the Pageant (figs. 3 and 4 in the Introduction) as well as to the portrait of Hamilton in her role as Mrs. Knox (fig. 63). But it is also tremendously significant that Connell portrays Matters in such a theatrical way since she was an actress and a trained elocutionist who translated those considerable charismatic powers to the suffrage platform. Her performance as orator would have matched Christabel’s skills. It is thus tempting to ask which portraits came first, which influenced which? Both the Wright portrait and Muriel Matters Speaking were widely publicized images. Matters used this photograph repeatedly in her own promotional materials for speeches in London and during her Australian tour, as in this Australian publicity poster (fig. 75).

Fig. 75: Australian Publicity Poster, Miss Muriel Matters, The Notable Australian Suffragette, with Lena Connell portrait of Muriel Matters Speaking, 1910 (Muriel Matters Society Ephemera Collection, State Library of South Australia, Adelaide, South Australia).

In readiness for this tour, she stated in an article devoted to her in The Vote, “I want to tell them the truth of the movement over here; how Englishwomen are suffering and fighting for what they won so much more easily….”75 Regretting her immanent departure for this tour, Marion Holmes, author of the article, concludes by saying, “Our movement is too greatly in need of her special gifts of inspiring oratory and winning personality to give her a long leave of absence.”76 In both Connell portraits that document Matters’ considerable speaking skills, we see the living example of performance ensconced in the theatre of desire. Judging from these portraits and Holmes’ assessment, then, Matters was one of the most visible suffragists within this cult of great women.

Matters’ career within this cult is being kept alive by the current ­Adelaide-based Muriel Matters Society, which is dedicated to celebrating and maintaining her importance for both South Australian and British suffrage history. While I will return to her spectacular publicity stunts for the campaign in chapter four, here it is significant to note her charismatic beauty which, along with her diction skills, won over audiences. She was one of the most photographed women of the movement, many of her portraits appearing to this day all over her hometown of Adelaide. As a highly visible presence, she spoke eloquently and passionately for the cause, putting her “wonderful, magical voice” to the service of the cause.77

Both photographs employ Connell’s signature soft focus, adding an air of allure to this fascinating figure which reflected her status under the “diva citizenship” category. She was triply an outsider for being a suffragist, an Australian, and an actress. That the WFL took her role within the British movement seriously is evident in their desire to put her special gifts to good use, as Holmes declares in the Vote article:

She made her first speech at one of the “At Homes” held then in the offices at Buckingham Street and I remember how eagerly we discussed her afterwards. Who was she? She had told us in her speech that she was an Australian, but for the rest we knew nothing. Then in the usual ­cold-blooded fashion of NEC members [the national executive of the WFL] we debated how best we could use her talents—her enthusiasm, her eloquence … for the cause.78

Matters was aware of her own powers and put them to good use, joining the WFL caravan campaign, among other speaking engagements. Writing in 1913, looking back on such adventures, she wrote:

Believing … that the present social and industrial structure was inimical to the ­well-being and development of the masses of people, it was but natural that I should be taking part in the women’s agitation for political freedom. This was but a phase in the greater movement, evolutionary and spiritual, stirring civilized people. I had to cross the line to discover myself as an active agitator in this movement.79

A determined and passionate young, talented woman, Matters was both captivating, as Connell’s images reveal, and herself captivated by this moment in history. The portraits bear witness to her desire to place her images at the service of the battle itself.

Professional Women Writers

Beatrice Harraden (1864–1936)

Literary women, such as Beatrice Harraden, also sat to Connell. An Ethel Hill article on her appeared in The Vote in 1909 that highlighted her novel, Ships that Pass in the Night.80 It is unclear whether the photographic portrait of her in The Vote article is by Connell or another artist as it is unattributed, but Connell did do a ­three-quarter length portrait of her (fig. 76).

Fig. 76: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Beatrice Harraden, c. 1910 (photograph Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

Apart from this novel, Harraden also wrote a ­pro-suffrage play, Lady Geraldine’s Speech, which appeared in Votes for Women in 1909 and was performed by the AFL. A supporter of the WSPU and the WFL, she was also an early member of the WWFL and later one of its ­vice-presidents.

Central to this investigation into the lives of working women for the cause, in The Vote article Harraden positions herself as a representative of professional women. Hill asserts that “[her] object in being on a militant platform is chiefly to accentuate the fact that scores of professional women of all classes of thought, and work, and culture, have finally thrown in their lot with the militant Suffragettes.”81 What turned her head in their direction was the act of Miss Wallace Dunlop in stamping the clause of the Bill of Rights on the walls of the House of Commons. It detailed a subject’s right to petition the King’s Majesty, an act that had ended in the false arrest of countless suffrage women. With an air of diplomacy, at the end of the article Harraden calls on suffrage supporters to put aside personal difference for the greater good.82 This statement shows her to be aware not only of her role as example to women in the professions, but also as role model of leadership within this trained realm. She echoes, then, the words of one of her own characters in Lady Geraldine’s Speech who declared: “And quite apart from anything to do with the vote itself, it is so splendid coming into intimate contact with a lot of fine women all following different professions or businesses.”83

Lady Geraldine’s Speech was one of the most popular plays held during the course of the Prince’s Skating Rink Women’s Exhibition sponsored by the WSPU in 1909. It was performed alongside two other AFL plays at that event, Hamilton and Christopher St John’s How the Vote was Won, and Gertrude Jennings’ A Woman’s Influence. In Harraden’s play, according to Votes for Women, “is seen the passing away of the old conventional woman.”84 The play focuses on a gathering of women of differing professions and experiences, including a medical doctor, artist, musician, academic and typist, all of whom espoused the need for the vote.85 Further, Harraden maintained a high profile at this event, acting as one of its celebrities who the organizers chose to open the Exhibition, her turn coming on May 15th within the two week run.86

Like Harraden’s cult position at the Prince’s Rink Exhibition, she held a similar role for the Hampstead branch of the WSPU, being one of its first speakers alongside Christabel Pankhurst.87 It is possible that she and Connell met through their shared membership in this branch. In Connell’s portrait of Harraden, she presents her in a stance similar to the pose that Garrett Fawcett strikes in her 1909 portrait (fig. 29 in chapter one). Connell captures her as an intellectual lost in thought. She stands erect, if somewhat distracted. Her spectacles are securely on her face while she emits a slightly whimsical expression. She is dressed unconventionally in reform dress rather than being strictly corseted, creating both a modest appearance and an elegant and ­forward-looking one. The portrait reflects Harraden’s passion for the cause through her strong, stalwart, and ­in-charge posture. It echoes the speech she gives at the end of The Vote article where she embraces the “new comradeship amongst women, which is a very real thing, and one of the most delightful and stimulating results of this long struggle to obtain citizenship.”88 Her words and her portrait firmly position her then within the cult of great women, someone who honored women’s professionalism within “diva citizenship,” while also being fully aware that she was playing a part in an exciting new theatre of life, exemplifying the theatre of desire and performance.

Mrs. Margaret Wynne Nevinson—née Jones, J.P., L.L.A. (St. Andrews, 1858–1932)

Since Margaret Wynne Nevinson was a talented writer with academic accolades, it is fitting that Connell portrays her in her academic robes (fig. 65). After her education at Oxford, then Paris, Cologne, and finally St. Andrews, she became a teacher at South Hampstead High School. Her son was the famous painter C.R.W. Nevinson, a British Futurist. Apart from her teaching, she had also been a rent collector for a charitable organization, and an NUWSS Hampstead branch member, as well as a WSPU member, before helping to establish and run the WFL for which she was an essential member.89 It was likely that she met Connell through their mutual Hampstead suffrage work.

Yet, in addition to these duties, she was also on the scene for the Great Watch of the WFL before Parliament from July to October 1908, first discussed in chapter two; and she participated in the WFL caravan campaign.

As a writer, Nevinson was an active member of the WWSL, being its Treasurer for nearly its whole existence. She was happy to be a member amongst “most of the distinguished ­women-writers of the day.”90 In addition to her suffrage plays, she focused on the conditions of working women in In the Workhouse: A Play in One Act.91 Out of all of her activities, she was most proud of the WWSL work, stating “Our meetings always draw very distinguished, intellectual audiences, and with the aid of the AFL, we produced many propaganda plays and organized entertainments, making much money for our Cause.”92

As with her portrait of Harraden, Connell presents Nevinson with a sense of how formidable she was within the movement. Her posture is erect, her stance dignified, a depiction which is only enhanced by her academic robes. Literally taking on the mantle of the professional woman, she is one example of a ­well-educated woman who put her intellectual powers to the service of the cause, her own desire for change swept up in the larger performances which she helped to create through her own pen.

Leonora Tyson (c. 1884–1959)

Connell’s portrait of Tyson (fig. 30 in chapter one) is in the Museum of London collection along with her ­forced-feeding prison medal, a result of her involvement in the WSPU ­window-smashing campaign. In this context, the portrait sits firmly within the framing of a theatre of desire and performance. Tyson even commemorated her time in Holloway Prison with an autograph album signed by her prison comrades, now housed in the Museum of London.93 The portrait shows her in a dress reform gown with beaded detailing, while she sports a ­pince-nez set of spectacles. Seated in profile, Tyson looks off into the distance beyond the camera’s frame. The portrait thus echoes important painted portraits of intelligentsia who similarly look away from the artist in a moment of contemplation, thus establishing Tyson as both a rebel for the cause and an intellectual light.

Why would that be an appropriate representation of her? Tyson took on several roles for the WSPU, acting as Honorary Secretary of the Streatham branch of the WSPU from 1911, formerly having run the WSPU Lambeth branch. In Streatham she ran the WSPU shop, which opened in April 1911. She also participated as an organizer in the funeral for Emily Wilding Davison (1872–1913), who died during a protest when she ran in front of the King’s horse on Derby Day. Tyson was a group captain for section D of the funeral, marching with a Madonna lily in her hand.94

But Tyson was also an editor and it is in this capacity that I include her in this chapter. In 1911, according to Elizabeth Crawford, “she edited and printed by hand, from stencils by Alice B. Woodward, Pamela C. Smith, Ada P. Ridley, and others, The ­Anti-Suffrage Alphabet written by Laurence Housman.” Further, as a fluent German speaker, she represented the WSPU at the Women’s Congress in Hamburg in 1911.95 Thus, Tyson symbolizes for her suffrage audience the conflation of the intellectual worker with the rebellious prisoner. As an outsider like her suffrage sisters, she worked on many fronts to embrace her own “diva citizenship.”

Other Women Workers for the Cause

Maud Barham (dates unknown; active 1910s)

In 1910, The Vote launched a new feature on “Women at Work,” a series that celebrated the work of successful women suffragists which, like my goal here, highlighted women workers for the cause. It devoted its second installment to Miss Maud Barham and reproduced Connell’s portrait of her (it does not survive in public collections; fig. 77).96

Fig. 77: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Maud Barham, c. 1910. Photograph reproduced from The Vote, March 19, 1910 (Digital Library, Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

The photograph is ­bust-length with Miss Barham directly engaging the viewer with her large, dark, intense eyes. She wears an artistic dress, probably of her own design and execution, as revealed in an advertisement within The Vote for her dress shop: “Maud Barham 186, Regent St. W., Artistic Dress in Original Designs for all Occasions. Head Embroideries. Charges Moderate. Members and Friends of the League always welcome to inspect Models.”97 The article featuring Barham reflects her success as a much ­sought-after dress designer. Such women workers of the business class were important sitters for Connell. Along with The Vote’s “Women at Work” series, Connell’s oeuvre mirrors the sentiment of a cartoon entitled “­Anti-Suffrage Arguments—IV,” which opens the May 23, 1913, edition of The Vote. It pictures a ­well-to-do client speaking to two seamstresses. She proclaims to them: “My dears, what do women want with a vote? Home is the proper place for women!” One of the dressmakers, “working to keep a home,” replies: “Many a woman’s home depends on her wages, her wages on her work, her work on suitable conditions, suitable conditions on legislation, and legislation on the vote.”98 The series and the cartoon both honor not only women’s labor, but also their need for the vote to protect them from bad working conditions. Further, it reiterates Connell’s own sentiments as a woman of business, already discussed in chapter one.

The Vote article also serves to advertise Barham’s establishment; echoing the information of the separate advertisement itself, it shares her salon’s location at the fashionable address on Regent’s Street where it states that she specialized in “artistic dress that is at the same time suitable to the occasion….”99 The article quotes Barham, who admits that part of her success is due to having a large staff, itself an indication of her successful management. She emphasizes the uniqueness of her shop, the designs all being her own creations and each being distinctive, suited to the particular customer. Her code word is simplicity as well as functionality. But Barham admits that the artistic dress is far different from the kind of garments she formerly created.100 An example of her earlier style comes to us in a note from the Healthy and Artistic Dress Union meeting in 1904, announcing that “Miss Maud Barham introduced [a] ‘bifurcated skirt for easy walking’….”101 This source thus indicates that she was producing dress reform garments before she became associated with the suffrage movement, but that perhaps they were more concerned with function than with her signature style. The Vote article ends by explaining that she works for the cause outside of her business hours.102 Thus she, like many of the women Atkinson enumerates in her recent study on working women within the movement, broadens our representation, one that Connell celebrates as part of the cult of great women.

Louisa ­Thomson-Price (1864–1926)

Louisa ­Thomson-Price worked first as a journalist, then as a political writer, and she sometimes wrote for The Vote and also drew cartoons for the radical journal Political World.103 Connell portrays her in her role as writer in a 1910 article in The Vote (fig. 78).104

Fig. 78: Lena Connell (1875–1949), Mrs. Thomson-Price, c. 1910. Photograph reproduced from The Vote, May 14, 1910 (Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science).

From the same generation as Garrett Fawcett and Emmeline Pankhurst, she was a member of some of the earlier suffrage groups, including the Women’s Liberal Federation and the North Hackney Women’s Liberal and Radical Association. It is fitting that I end with this suffragist, whose dedicated article in The Vote opens with these lines which sum up the courage, bravado, talent and bravery of the women pictured in this chapter who existed within the alternative realm of “diva citizenship” as great women:

To have lived and to live in stirring times and to be part of them, to have known intimately and spoken from the same platform as the great reformers of our century, to have the courage to voice unpopular views, and at the same time to carry on a busy professional life full of exactions and complexities and never to fail those who depend on one’s public or one’s professional exertions is a fine record for anyone, man or woman; and this is the record that Mrs. ­Thomson-Price has made during her working life….105

This assessment is no mere flattery, for ­Thomson-Price had a long history of political writing even before the suffrage movement of the Edwardian period accelerated. She is unusual in being one of the few women political writers of her generation; but by the time of this article in 1910, she could boast being on the editorial staff of three prominent weekly papers as well as being a consulting editor for The Vote. Further, she owned an insurance company and a publishing company.106

Connell captures ­Thomson-Price’s energy and serious intent in this 1910 photograph. With her quill in hand, her face is one of fierce concentration as she writes in a book at a desk. Her hair is pulled back into a professional, but loose bun, while she balances her ­pince-nez expertly as she looks down at her work.

Connell’s constellation of brave women included, as perhaps its most important element, women of the theatre and other professional worlds. More educated than women of their time generally, the women celebrated in this chapter understood the power of the written word and business practices and how to wield them in order to persuade an audience of their plea for equality. They were cognizant of their “diva citizenship,” exemplified in their own performativity, putting it to good use on a public stage that was a risky space, yet a compelling and engaging one, to express their collective desire for the vote.

1. The photographic postcards are sometimes stamped as “Published by the Suffrage Shop, 31, Bedford St.,” that is, Edith Craig’s London address, where the ISS shop was first located, indicating that the two terms were used interchangeably for the shop: either International Suffrage Shop or just the Suffrage Shop. See Women’s Suffrage Literature, Volume III: Suffrage Drama, eds., Katharine Cockin, Glenda Norquay and Sowon S. Park (London, New York: Routledge, 2007), 11; personal correspondence with Katharine Cockin, 11/11/19; and Elizabeth Crawford, The Women’s Suffrage Movement: A Reference Guide, 1866–1928 (London: Routledge, 2001), section on shops, offices, and bazaars, 631–635, which includes a photograph of the ISS façade at its Adelphi Terrace address. Lisa Tickner, The Spectacle of Women: Imagery of the Suffrage Campaign, 1907–14 (London: Chatto and Windus, 1987/University of Chicago Press, 1988), 46, reproduces an image of a suffrage shop, located in Kensington at its opening by Millicent Garrett Fawcett in 1908 that displays works by the Artists’ Suffrage League in readiness for the NUWSS Procession of Women. The suffrage shop in this image belongs to the NUWSS, the large poster in the window announcing the space as “The London Society Local Committee Rooms.” Other sources seem to suggest that at least one ­so-named suffrage shop belonged to the WSPU, the Suffrage Atelier group of the WSPU producing work for it as well as for the WFL; in comparison with the Artists’ Suffrage League, which worked only with the NUWSS (See Tickner, Spectacle of Women, 11–52, on production). It is certain that there were, in fact, many suffrage shops, some being created quickly and temporarily in conjunction with ­by-elections, for example, as well as existing as part of suffrage group branch endeavors around the country. I have already discussed the Woman’s Press shop in this regard. John Mercer, “Commercial Places, Public Spaces: Suffragette Shops and the Public Sphere,” University of Sussex Journal of Contemporary History 7 (2004): 1–10, discusses the WSPU suffrage shops that sprang up all over the country, arguing that they provided an inconspicuous, albeit public, space for suffrage dialogue and dissemination of its materials, as well as ­feminine-inspired, products. He does not discuss the ISS or a particular Suffrage Shop, but rather the broad phenomenon amongst the WSPU. Elizabeth Crawford reproduces an image of Cicely Hamilton as “Woman” for A Pageant of Great Women which is in a Suffrage Shop mat, in Art and Suffrage: A Biographical Dictionary of Suffrage Artists (London: Francis Boutle, 2018), 61. See also Diane Atkinson, The Suffragette in Pictures (London: Museum of London, 1996. Reprint, 2010), 12, 14, 37, 94–98, for images of various suffrage shops; and Holly Parsons, “Shops of the Suffrage Campaign” in Exploring Surrey’s Past,­shops-of-the-suffrage-campaign/; retrieved 10/08/19. See 2LSW/E/15/01/10, International Suffrage Shop Records 1911–1913, within Fawcett Society Records, Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science.

2. 2LSW/E/15/01/10, International Suffrage Shop Records.

3. Val Williams, The Other Observers: Women Photographers in Britain 1900 to the Present (London: Virago Press, 1986), 93.

4. Alan Trachtenberg, Reading American Photographs: Images as History: Matthew Brady to Walker Evans (New York: Hill and Wang/The Nobody Press, 1989), 40; cited in Margaret Denny, “Royals, Royalties, and Remuneration: American and British Women Photographers in the late Victorian Era,” Women’s History Review 18 (2009): 809.

5. The Daily Mail (15 June 1908); quoted in Lis Whitelaw, The Life and Rebellious Times of Cicely Hamilton (London: The Women’s Press, 1990), 76.

6. Wendy Parkins, “‘The Epidemic of Purple, White and Green’: Fashion and the Suffragette Movement in Britain 1908–14,” in Fashioning the Body Politic: Dress, Gender, Citizenship, ed., Wendy Parkins (Oxford/New York: Berg, 2002), 101. She cites Laura Berlant, The Queen of America Goes to Washington City: Essays on Sex and Citizenship (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1997), 223.

7. Carolyn Marie Tilghman, “Staging Suffrage: Women, Politics and the Edwardian Theater,” Comparative Drama 45 (2011): 344. See also, Irene Cockroft and Susan Croft, Art, Theatre and Women’s Suffrage (London: Aurora Metro Books, 2010).

8. Berlant, The Queen of America, 223; cited in Parkins, “Epidemic,” 101.

9. Sheila Stowell, A Stage of Their Own: Feminist Playwrights of the Suffrage Era (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992), 43.

10. See Sowon S. Park, “The First Professional: The Women Writers’ Suffrage League,” Modern Language Quarterly 58 (1997): 185–200.

11. Claire Hirshfield, “The Actress as Social Activist: The Case of Lena Ashwell,” in Politics, Gender and the Arts: Women, the Arts and Society, eds., Ronald Dotterer and Susan Bowers (Selinsgrove: Susquehanna University Press; London/Toronto: Associated University Presses, 1992), 77.

12. Naomi Paxton dedicates a whole chapter to the issue of visibility in Stage Rights! The Actresses’ Franchise League, Activism and Politics, 1908–58 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2018), 82–106; and see Barbara Green, Spectacular Confessions: Autobiography, Performative Activism, and the Sites of Suffrage 1905–1938 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1997), 68.

13. Reproduced in Tickner, Spectacle of Women, Plate X, after page 210, where she determines that it appeared in the NUWSS procession of 13 June 1908, whereas Whitelaw, Life and Rebellious Times of Cicely Hamilton, 76, says it appeared in the 1907 Mud March of the NUWSS. 1907 is too early since the WWSL had not yet formed. The Museum of London says it appeared in the Coronation Procession of 1911. It possibly appeared at both processions of 1908 and 1911.

14. I investigate the historical figure of Bodica within the Edwardian suffrage movement in “Bodica: Patriotic Woman Leader, Mother and Resistant Warrior for British Women’s Suffrage,” The Visual Culture of Women’s Activism in London, Paris and Beyond (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2018), 101–117. See also Tickner, Spectacle of Women, on the historic pageants. See Cicely Hamilton, A Pageant of Great Women (London: Suffrage Shop, 1910). See also Cicely Hamilton, “Triumphant Women,” in Edy: Recollections of Edith Craig, ed., Eleanor Adland (London: Frederick Muller, 1949), 38–44.

15. There is some debate over for whom Craig and Hamilton created the Pageant. The ­non-partisanship of the WWSL/AFL notwithstanding, it appears to have been produced for both the WFL and the WSPU, but not for the NUWSS, due to the play’s militant content to which the NUWSS objected. See Denney, Visual Culture of Women’s Activism, 93–95; and Katharine Cockin, “Cicely Hamilton’s Warriors: Dramatic Reinventions of Militancy in the British Women’s Suffrage Movement,” Women’s History Review 14 (2005): 527–542.

16. Katharine Cockin, Edith Craig (1869–1947): Dramatic Lives (London: Cassell, 1998), 95.

17. Katharine Cockin discusses a 1911 edition of the play for which Marie Leon did the frontispiece portrait of Cicely Hamilton (not in her role as “Woman” but rather a straightforward studio portrait) in Women’s Suffrage Literature: Volume III, Suffrage Drama, 174; and Crawford, Art and Suffrage, 61, asserts that while Connell took the image of Hamilton as “Woman,” that it was not reproduced in the published play. However, the image I reproduce here was included in a 1910 edition of the play, published by the ISS, a copy of which is housed in the Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science.

18. Whitelaw, The Life and Rebellious Times of Cicely Hamilton, 86.

19. Cockin, “Cicely Hamilton’s Warriors,” 527–542.

20. Cockin, Edith Craig (1879–1947), 105.

21. Paxton, Stage Rights!, 64.

22. Maud ­Arncliffe-Sennett Collection, Vol. 9, reel 3, 10th Nov. 1909–29 April 1910: 3. In this same volume from her scrapbook, ­Arncliffe-Sennett also includes the program of one such production of the Pageant. Several of the catalogues of these various productions are housed in the Women’s Library, London School of Economics.

23. Julie Holledge, Innocent Flowers: Women in the Edwardian Theatre (London: Virago, 1981), 70.

24. Holledge, Innocent Flowers, 70; quoting Votes for Women (8 October 1909).

25. Tilghman, “Staging Suffrage,” 339–360.

26. Whitelaw, Life and Rebellious Times of Cicely Hamilton, 72.

27. Ibid., 114.

28. Tilghman, “Staging Suffrage,” 346–47.

29. Ibid., 350.

30. Rosemary Betterton, “‘A Perfect Woman’: The Political Body of Suffrage,” An Intimate Distance: Women, Artists and the Body (London, New York: Routledge, 1996), 51. She concludes that one way the suffrage women circumvented the contradiction was to employ symbolic figures, such as Joan of Arc. For an extended analysis of Joan of Arc’s role in suffrage visual rhetoric, see Denney, “‘Not Only Perfect Patriot but Perfect Woman’: The Evocation of Joan of Arc in Suffrage England,” Visual Culture of Women’s Activism, 64–100.

31. Betterton, “A Perfect Woman,” 72.

32. Ibid., 75.

33. Rebecca Jennings, A Lesbian History of Britain (Oxford: Greenwood World Publishing, 2007), xi. Her assertion stems from the work of Blanche Wiesen Cook, “The Historical Denial of Lesbianism,” Radical History Review 20 (1979): 60–65. See also George Chauncey, Jr., Martin Bauml Duberman, and Martha Vicinus, “Introduction,” in Hidden from History: Reclaiming the Gay and Lesbian Past, eds., Martin Bauml Duberman, Martha Vicinus and George Chauncey, Jr. (New York: New American Library, 1989), 7. For Vicinus’s other scholarship on the topic, see, for example, Independent Women: Work and Community for Single Women, 1850–1920 (University of Chicago Press, 1985); and Intimate Friends: Women Who Loved Women, 1778–1928 (University of Chicago Press, 2004).

34. Martha Vicinus, “‘They Wonder to Which Sex I Belong’: The Historical Roots of the Modern Lesbian Identity,” in Lesbian Subjects: A Feminist Studies Reader, ed., Martha Vicinus (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1996), 236.

35. Carroll ­Smith-Rosenberg, “Discourses of Sexuality and Subjectivity: The New Woman, 1870–1936,” in Hidden from History, 265.

36. Vicinus, Independent Women, 9.

37. See Martha Vicinus, “Male Space and Women’s Bodies: The Suffragette Movement,” in Independent Women, 247–280. One possible parallel example to Connell’s double portrait and partnership is that between the late ­19th-century British literary aunt and niece, Katharine Bradley and Edith Cooper, who were often photographed together. However, their unique professional identity as one person, Michael Field, means that images of them sat outside the kind of business portrait genre of visible lesbians that Connell is creating. See Vicinus, Intimate Friends, 99. Vicinus also discusses in this same volume some parallel lesbian theatrical partnerships which resulted in visible portraits, such as that between Renée Vivien and Natalie Barney in Paris in the 1920s (177–185). See also Nicky Hallett, Lesbian Lives: Identity and Auto/Biography in the Twentieth Century (London/Sterling, VA: Pluto Press, 1999), particularly 177–194, where she discusses visualizing and making visible the British lesbian of the 1920s onward. There are American precedents for Connell’s portrait in the double portraits of Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton although their personal relationship was kept at bay in favor of their professional relationship and battle for women’s suffrage.

38. Rose Collis, “Rosa Bonheur,” Portraits to the Wall: Historic Lesbian Lives Unveiled (London, New York: Cassell,1994), 71. See also idem, “Edy Craig and the Boys,” in the same volume, 51–70.

39. We can position Connell’s portrait of Mrs. Emmeline Pankhurst (fig. 38 in chapter two) in this same homosocial context if we consider Barbara Winslow’s research in which she intimates that the estrangement between Sylvia and Christabel Pankhurst was due to Sylvia’s heterosexual orientation, in contrast to Christabel and Mrs. Pankhurst’s lesbian leanings and relationships (Sylvia Pankhurst: Sexual Politics and Political Activism (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1996), 8). She discusses evidence of Mrs. Pankhurst’s lesbian living arrangements with Ethel Smyth (later Dame Ethel Smyth) (1858–1944) during the suffrage years. Smyth, according to Vicinus, had had many lesbian relationships (Intimate Friends, 126–136). Smyth was an active suffragist, famed for writing the music to “March of the Women,” with lyrics by Cicely Hamilton, that became the battle song of the Edwardian suffrage movement. Sylvia had a ­long-standing affair with J. Keir Hardie. He was a threat to the WSPU leadership since he was both male and a member of the ILP and the Labour Party. Winslow intimates that her mother and sister ostracized Sylvia both for her heterosexual orientation and her alignment with the ILP and the Labour Party through this relationship with Hardie.

40. Blanche Wiesen Cooke, “Women alone stir my imagination: lesbianism and the cultural tradition,” Signs 4 (Summer 1979): 718.

41. Katharine Cockin, Women and Theatre in the Age of Suffrage: The Pioneer Players (London: Palgrave, 2001), 115, where she discusses Margaret Wynne Nevinson’s In the Workhouse, Jess Dorynne’s The Surprise of His Life and Gerolamo Rovetta’s The Month of May.

42. Cockin, Women and Theatre in the Age of Suffrage, 129.

43. Martha Vicinus, “Introduction,” in Lesbian Subjects, 7.

44. The only other such example of a professional British couple in either painted or photographed form up through 1909 comes from Connell’s own oeuvre, her double portrait of the famed painters Laura Theresa (née Epps), Lady ­Alma-Tadema and Sir Lawrence ­Alma-Tadema, 1905 (National Portrait Gallery, London, NPGx47) who were Connell’s ­next-door neighbors to her studio address. On Lady ­Alma-Tadema’s career as a woman artist in context, see Colleen Denney, “Emergence of Women Artists and Audience: Temple as Safe Haven,” At the Temple of Art: The Grosvenor Gallery, 1877–1890 (Madison and Teaneck, NJ: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press; London: Associated University Presses, 2000), 127–160.

45. “The Spirit of the Movement. Miss Cicely Hamilton’s Speech at the Bijou Theatre on Jan. 3,” The Vote (Jan. 14, 1911): 140–41. This portrait appears in Hamilton’s autobiography, Life Errant (London: J. M. Dent, 1935), opposite 65. It has not come to light in any public collection.

46. Katrina Rolley, “Female,” in Katrina Rolley and Caroline Aish, Fashion in Photographs (London: Rowman and Littlefield in association with the National Portrait Gallery, 1992), 77; reflecting on Hamilton’s own thoughts cited in Whitelaw, The Life and Rebellious Times of Cicely Hamilton, 50–51. The version of figure 64 that they reproduce is in the National Portrait Gallery (NPGx17331).

47. Whitelaw, The Life and Rebellious Times of Cicely Hamilton, 100.

48. Cicely Hamilton, quoted in “The Spirit of the Movement,” 140.

49. Alicia Foster, “Gwen John’s ­Self-Portrait: Art, Identity and Women Students at the Slade School,” in English Art 1860–1914: Modern Artists and Identity, ed., David Peters Corbett and Lara Perry (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press; Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000), 168, 179.

50. Hamilton, quoted in “The Spirit of the Movement,” 141.

51. Foster, “Gwen John,” 179.

52. Claire M. Tylee, “‘A better world for both’: men, cultural transformation and the suffragettes,” in The Women’s Suffrage Movement: New Feminist Perspectives, eds., Maroula Joannou and June Purvis (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1998), 149–50. Although I illustrate one of the views here, three views of Hamilton as Mrs. Knox in Fanny’s First Play, reside at the Women’s Library, London School of Economics and Political Science: TWL 2004.35; TWL 2004.34; TWL 2009.02.194.

53. Tylee, “A better world for both,” 150.

54. Ibid.

55. This portrait is also in the collection of the National Portrait Gallery, London: NPGx45189.

56. Whitelaw, The Life and Rebellious Times of Cicely Hamilton, 124. On the Pioneer Players see Cockin, Women and Theatre in the Age of Suffrage; and idem, “Edith Craig and the Pioneer Players: London’s International Art Theatre in a ‘­Khaki-class and ­Khaki-minded World,’” in British Theatre and the Great War, 1914–1919: New Perspectives, ed. Andrew Maunder (Houndmills/New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015), 121–139.

57. Christopher St John, “II. ­Close-up,” in Edy: Recollections of Edith Craig, 20–21.

58. Allan Wade, “A Thread of Memory,” in Edy: Recollections of Edith Craig, 69.

59. Katharine Cockin, Edith Craig (1869–1947): Dramatic Lives (London: Cassell, 1998), 2.

60. Cockin, Edith Craig (1869–1947), 4.

61. Ibid., 59.

62. “Diversity of Gifts but the Same Spirit,” Votes for Women (July 4, 1913): 582.

63. “Diversity of Gifts but the Same Spirit,” 582.

64. Lena Ashwell, Myself A Player (London: Michael Joseph, 1936), 118–119.

65. Ashwell, Myself a Player, 178–180. She tells us that Glyn Philpot did a painted portrait of her in her acting role within The Great Mrs. Alloway, but it was not deemed representative enough of Philpot’s work to enter the Tate Gallery when it was offered. There is a photograph of the Philpot portrait of Ashwell in the Heinz Archive and Library, National Portrait Gallery, London, but the physical painting’s present whereabouts are unknown (Crawford, Women’s Suffrage Movement, 20).

66. Stowell, A Stage of Their Own, 76.

67. Hirshfield, “The Actress as Social Activist,” 78.

68. Quoted in Hirshfield, “The Actress as Social Activist,” 75.

69. Ashwell, Myself a Player, 80.

70. Ibid., 113–116.

71. Hirshfield, “The Actress as Social Activist,” 84.

72. See Hirschfield, “The Actress as Social Activist.”

73. See Rosie Broadley, “Painting suffragettes: Portraits and the militant movement,” in Suffrage and the Arts: Visual Culture, Politics and Enterprise, eds., Miranda Garrett and Zoë Thomas (London: Bloomsbury, 2018), 159–183. Una Dugdale Duval bought the Wright portrait from the Women’s Exhibition.

74. Broadley, “Painting suffragettes,” 169–170.

75. Muriel Matters, quoted in Marion Holmes, “Concerning Muriel Matters,” The Vote (February 19,1910): 160.

76. Holmes, “Concerning Muriel Matters,” 160.

77. Ibid.

78. Ibid.

79. My Impressions as an agitator for social reform, by Muriel Matters, 1913: quoted in Robert Wainwright, Miss Muriel Matters: The Fearless Suffragist who Fought for Equality (Australia: HarperCollins/London: Allen & Unwin, 2017), 75–76.

80. Ethel Hill, “Miss Beatrice Harraden,” The Vote (November 11, 1909): 28.

81. Hill, “Harraden,” 28.

82. Ibid.

83. Quoted in Whitelaw, The Life and Rebellious Times of Cicely Hamilton, 78.

84. Paxton, Stage Rights!, 33–34.

85. Ibid.

86. Crawford, Women’s Suffrage Movement, 276.

87. Ibid.

88. Hill, “Harraden,” 28.

89. Crawford, Women’s Suffrage Movement, 446.

90. Margaret Wynne (Jones) Nevinson, Life’s fitful fever: a volume of memories (London: A.C. Black, 1926), 208.

91. In the Workhouse (London: International Suffrage Shop, 1911), is included in Women’s Suffrage Literature, Vol. III: Suffrage Drama, 24-89.

92. Nevinson, Life’s fitful fever, 208–209.

93. Crawford, Women’s Suffrage Movement, 692.

94. Diane Atkinson, Rise Up, Women! The Remarkable Lives of the Suffragettes (London: Bloomsbury, 2018), 252, 415.

95. Crawford, Women’s Suffrage Movement, 691–692.

96. “Women at Work (2)—Miss Maud Barham,” The Vote (June 18, 1910): 95.

97. This notice appeared in The Vote (Sat., March 19, 1910).

98. Cartoon in The Vote (May 23, 1913): opening page.

99. “Women at Work (2)—Miss Maud Barham,” 95.

100. Ibid.

101. Quoted in Don Chapman, Wearing the Trousers: Fashion, Freedom and the Rise of the Modern Woman (Chalford, UK: Amberly Publishing, 2018) (­e-book version), n.p.

102. “Women at Work (2)—Miss Maud Barham,” 95.

103. See Tickner, Spectacle of Women, 248.

104.­louisa-thomson-price/ , retrieved 10/19/19; “Louisa ­Thomson-Price,” The Vote (May 14, 1910): 28.

105. “Louisa ­Thomson-Price,” 28.

106. Ibid.

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