Suffragette Street Justice 18 min read

London England circa 1906

Abigale stepped outside after the suffragette meeting.  It was now close to 8:00 PM and the streets were chilly and dark on this November night.  Abby felt safe, though, as she was with a group of 8 female companions who also attended the lecture.  They all had similar progressive views:  voting rights for women, the temperance movement, women’s legal rights, allowing women to work outside the home, etc.  

This group had attracted some attention in the area with a few of the local men mockingly calling them the “Nubile Nine”.  Publicly the women were insulted by that title but secretly they were flattered.  They were all attractive young women from 18 to 21 years old.  And Abigale was their unofficial leader.  

Probably feeling a responsibility to live up to their en vogue reputation, each girl wore the most fashionable clothing and footwear she could find.  Elegant ankle-length dresses were all the rage in 1906 London and they were tailored to compliment the girls’ slim figures. 

Their shoes were likewise very stylish.  Most of them wore pointed toe, lace up leather boots that came up to their calves.  These boots had block heels of 2 to 3 inches, all the better to keep a girl’s feet out of the muck and filth that was often found on the London streets of this  era.  During any given day it was common for the women to walk through some combination of mud, thrown out food, garbage, horse manure, street trash and Lord-only-knows what else.  Even worse, all of the women had experienced the disgust of entrails and other animal parts squishing under their boots as they walked past a butchers shop.

Thank goodness every girl came from a privileged home so their servants could clean the grime off of their boots after a long day of walking about.  

The most petite member of the group, Emma, was the only one to favor wearing shoes instead of boots – lace up Oxfords with the highest spool heels she could find.  She was tiny ( barely 7 stone ) so she liked to have the extra height to give her confidence. 

At 21 years of age, Abigale (or Abby for short) was the eldest member of the feminist club.  Just like the others, she wore a pair of tight fitting, lace up boots as part of her daily outfit.  Boots like that had been in fashion for a generation and were considered de rigueur for any stylish young lady.  

Abby had waist length chestnut brown hair but most often wore it up under one of her many fancy hats.   An exquisite beauty, Abby was constantly pursued by the eligible bachelors in her social circle (as well as a few married men with low morals).  But she’d resisted all of their advances so far, much to the dismay of her parents.  

Abby knew the route they were walking fairly well and realized that the group could cut through one of the alleys in order to significantly shorten their journey.  The change of course was also a nice benefit to get away from the lecherous gazes and lewd comments from the men on the busy main street, so many of whom were stumbling home after another night of carousing in their local bars.  An alley was not always the safest route because they were often deserted at night but Abby thought the group would be fine.  She suggested the course change and the girls went along with her, as they usually did. 

The alley opened to a number of stables and small shops that would be open during the day (but were now all closed).  The street itself was completely empty.  It was dimly lit but a few lamps did show the way.  After 100 feet or so the sounds of the main street had already faded and a lovely quiet pervaded the environment.  The only sound to be heard was the girls hard heels landing over and over again on the cobblestone street like a never ending drumroll.  

As the girls enjoyed an evening stroll their quietude was interrupted by the sound of a large belch.  A fat old man, clearly intoxicated, lay propped up beside one of the street lamps where he held onto an almost empty bottle of rum.  “Good evening to you ladies (badly slurred).  Might you have a shilling to spare for an old naval veteran ?”   

Abby stopped the group around the old man and said “Here’s why we need a temperance movement” with much clucking of tongues and nodding of heads among the fresh faced young women.  

The drunken former sailor didn’t take too kindly to being a poster boy for intemperance and let his impromptu audience know about it.  “Now see here my little pretties, I may have a drink or two but (muffled belch) I am no drunkard.  Get off of your high horses and help a gentleman out with some coppers.”

Daisy stepped toward the man, looked down at him and said “You, sir, are no gentleman.”

This insult motivated Sir Drinksalot to pull himself out of the gutter and stand up.  “Well at least I’m not an uppity woman who obviously needs a good roll in the hay.” he replied.

The women’s group saw that as their exit cue and started to walk away.  

As his chances for soliciting drink money were quickly diminishing, the drunkard grabbed the nearest girl to him – Clara – and pulled her in close.   She was enveloped by his thickly muscled arm, rum tainted breath and pungent body odor.

Clara instinctively pushed the man away, knocking him askew.  

To regain his balance, the inebriated man overcompensated and swung his right arm around wildly, hitting little Emma in the head with his bottle and knocking her to the ground.  

A wild brawl then erupted with all of the girls attacking the man, hitting him rather ineffectively.  The drunkard just laughed it off and easily pushed one skinny girl after another down onto the street.  Anna tore her dress during the mêlée when she got knocked over.  

While the battle raged, Abigail slipped in behind the man and started delivering some kicks to his rather large derrière.  Her fourth blow landed the pointed toe of her leather boot right between his legs and deeply into his balls.   A yelp of pain was heard and the drunken pugilist collapsed to all fours.  The girls stopped for a moment and then all start kicking him with complete abandon.  Some girls crushed his hand and fingers under vicious boot stomps.  Others mercilessly struck him in the side and back with the hard toes of their boots or their stacked heels.  

With the drunken man partially incapacitated but still in the fight, Abby cocked her leg back and launched a tremendous kick to his head.  Suddenly a tooth was seen flying through the air, spinning slowly end over end, finally coming to rest a few feet away.  The man immediately fell onto the street in a lump and the brawl was over.  Abby’s fierce blow had knocked him out. 

For a moment, Abigail was completely fixated on the whiteness of the tooth on the street as she wondered how it could have come out of such a wretched mouth.  

Hearing her name being called repeatedly, Abby’s attention was quickly redirected to her companions.  Several girls had ripped clothes and a couple had scratches on their faces.  Emma had a bump on her head from where she was struck with the bottle and her hat was ruined.  

The drunken man was laying on his side in the street snoring, as if he were taking a pleasant nap.  

After making sure all of the women were OK, Abby rolled the drunk over with a hard shove of her boot so he now laid on his back.  

No one in the nearby buildings seemed to have heard any of the commotion since it was all quiet on the street again.  The fight had lasted, at most, 45 seconds so it was no surprise that it went unnoticed.  And it was likely that most of the buildings weren’t even occupied at this time of night.  

Elizabeth suggested they should go back to the main street and alert a policeman.  Clara said that would take forever and the likely outcome would be to arrest the women as troublemakers.  Though all of the women already knew it, Daisy stated the obvious:  “The courts don’t give justice to women.”

Anna then bent down and started going through the man’s pockets.  “What are you doing ?” Margaret asked.  “He tore my dress and should pay for that” Anna said.  But the drunk had no money on him at all. “He likely drank away whatever cash he had tonight” Ruby commented.

Abby thought for a moment and said she had a better idea.  She asked to see a Bible, which some of the girls carried with them most every day.  In no time she had found the verse she was looking for, Malachi 4:3, and read it to the group: “And ye shall tread down the wicked; for they shall be ashes under the soles of your feet.”

The other girls gave her puzzled looks.  Abby said not the police nor the court system but WE  WOMEN will punish this man tonight for his drunken and violent ways.  “We will trample the evil right out of him.  Show him the power of women when they act as a group.”  “Yeah, he deserves to pay” said Clara.  “He hit Emma right in the head with his bottle.”  “We want justice.” chimed in Anna.  

Daisy walked over to where the man was laying and stood there, looking down at him.  “We’re going to teach this sot a lesson”. 

“Get in three lines.” Abby commanded.  “Link your arms together tightly so you can keep your balance.”  And the girls fell into formation with the speed and enthusiasm as if they had trained at drill for their entire lives.  

“Now march.” commanded Abby. 

And the first row of girls proceeded to slowly walk right over the drunkard.  

It should be noted that up until today, none of the women had ever trampled on a person before.  Sure many of them had tread on a servant’s hand or foot as they were cleaning around their houses.  (Emma had “accidentally” stepped on one woman’s hand 10 times in a week because she really didn’t like that servant).  But, in general, trampling was a completely new experience for the girls.  

The second row of women followed the first, as did the third.  Each time the middle woman ended up doing virtually all of the work while the outside two were just there for balance.  The drunkards big belly was soft and provided some challenge for the girls to keep their footing.  The middle girl would stumble a bit which led to extra steps being taken on the man.  

Once all three rows had walked on him, the women were standing in their lines at the opposite end.  Abby said “Do it again” so they all turned around and made a reverse journey.  This time the third row was the first and was watched by the others.  

It soon became obvious that the girls were avoiding the man’s head (probably out of their natural politeness) as they stepped onto his considerable girth.  Abby recognized this and called out for the second row to step right on his face, which caused a couple of gasps within the group.  

All of the girls were watching with immense interest as the second row approached the drunkard and stopped for a moment to let the middle girl, Mary, place her brown boot on his upturned face.  After couple of attempts Mary said “his face is too wobbly”.  Someone shouted to turn his head to the side.  So Mary carefully used the toe of her boot to move the drunks head over, making a more flat surface.  “That will work” Mary replied as she tested a few spots on the mans face with her boot, getting ready to transfer her weight.  “Let’s go” she said quietly to her two companions as Mary lifted herself onto the man’s face and continued walking over him.  That prompted a few more gasps by the girls, along with some excited, knowing looks at each other.  

Abby’s row then followed.  As the middle girl, Abby showed no hesitation when it came to trampling on the intoxicated man’s face.  Abby’s boot heel landed squarely on the man’s temple and she tread on him as if his head were simply the first step of a staircase.  Some of the watching girls squealed with delight and bounced up and down while clapping their hands at the boldness of their leader.  

After the second round the girls were all bunched up again so things weren’t working all that efficiently.  Ruby suggested instead of walking in a straight line, they should walk in a big circle.  The street was large enough to accommodate this plan and all agreed it would be an improvement over the current system.  

Clara also chimed in with another suggestion. “Hey, I’m not doing anything but holding Emma up in the middle.  I’d like to give that fat bastard a working over for accosting me and making me get a whiff of his God-awful stench.”  So Abby told Elizabeth and Ruby to go move the man’s arms and legs out so he would give a target for everyone in the line to step on.   They did so with some repeated kicks of their boots.

After this was completed, Mary laughed and commented that the guy now looked like a snow angel.  Emma menacingly reminded everyone “he’s no angel”.  

“Yeah”, said Elizabeth, ”That drunken asshole tore my favorite dress.  It cost a fortune !  He deserves no mercy from us.”  Anna chimed in as well “I’m sure that violent oaf is worthy of any punishment we can give him tonight.  No doubt his drunkenness has contributed to numerous crimes against women in his past.  Just look at how he treated us.  He’s surely treated other women even worse.”

So the Nubile Nine lined up again without remorse to administer some more street justice to their male oppressor. 

As the first row approached the unconscious man, his changed position now resulted in a different walking dynamic for the women.  The outside girls stepped on the man’s thighs first while they used the middle girl standing on the street for balance.  The next step had the outside girls on the street and the middle one doing the trampling.  With the man’s legs spread apart, his groin was now completely exposed.  Henceforth he was forced to suffer the indignity of having his family jewels trampled under the boots of these young women.  

The man’s face was also no longer taboo so it was getting stepped on every time as well.  The women’s filthy boots were just walking on him like he was some piece of trash on the street.  In fact, I think street trash would have been treated better since most of the women would normally try to avoid stepping on it. But here they were doing just the opposite.  And since his body was limp with no resistance, their heels sunk in completely with every step.  That was especially true for Emma’s tall, sharp heels.       

All the rows of attractive young women were now walking in a large circle.  It became an endless repetition of trampling justice.

After a few laps, the girls started to become more comfortable with their actions and started commenting on what it felt like to trample the old sot.  After one pass, Ruby admitted with a laugh “I felt something crunch under my heel”.  Another time Mary said “Ew, I just walked over his face.  I hope he doesn’t mind the smell of the horse manure I stepped in earlier today.” which gave all the girls a chuckle.  Anna, an otherwise kind and gentle girl, quietly said “I think it’s easier to keep your balance if you stomp your boot heels down kind of hard.” 

But it was Abigale’s idea for the group to sing a song as they made their loops.  She suggested the church hymn “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” which all the women knew well.  The lovely young women began singing as they walked in their endless circles.  Their clear, high voices sounded like angels as the women brutally trampled the man over and over again.

After several minutes of this Abby had the entire group stop on top of the man.  It was a tough fit but each of the eight women managed to squeeze onto his body at the same time, standing on the drunkard’s thighs, hips, stomach, chest and arms.  Once every one fit (and no one fell off, which took a minute or so to achieve) Abby faced the girls and firmly placed her boot on the unconscious man’s face.  Then she raised her arms in victory and said “this shows the power of women if we all act together.  We get can get REAL justice.” 

“I think his privates are under my boots”, Elizabeth blurted out, breaking the somber mood somewhat.  “March in place then” suggested one of the girls.  So Elizabeth firmly trampled on his groin while looking at the others, grinning and biting her lip.  Two dozen stomps of her hard leather boots later, somebody said”Don’t spare the heel”.  Which led to another dozen stomps with her heels only and all of her weight on his manhood.  And giggles were had by all. 

“We should leave a mark on him so he knows the power of women.” said Clara.  “Who has the sharpest heels ?”

“Emma probably does” came a response.  

“Emma, we’ll hold you while you stand on his chest and stomp your heel down on him.”

“Gladly” said Emma.  “He deserves it for hitting me in the head with that bottle.”

So Emma walked up the man’s body (by way of his groin, to add insult to injury) and several girls supported her back as she raised her long dress to reveal her knickers, thin legs and high heeled shoes.  Since it was only women there, Emma saw no need for modesty.  She then raised her knee up to her chest and stomped down with her spool heel as hard as she could.  The sharp heel slammed into the man’s stomach and stayed there, partially dug in.  “Oooo, that was good.”  “Another !”  “But lift up his shirt first” cried someone.  So one of the girls pulled back the drunkards shirt, exposing his large, smooth belly.   Emma let loose another vicious stomp.  When she picked up her shoe a clear imprint of her heel could be seen on the skin of his stomach.  “Good one !” said Ruby with a grin.  Emma repeated this feminist branding several more times, targeting whatever body part the crowd demanded. 

“And this is for hitting me in the head with the bottle” said Emma as she stepped forward onto his face with her heel on his cheek.  She bounced hard several times with all her weight while looking straight down at his face.  Then she stepped over his head with her other foot onto the street.  

Abby said “lets get out of here before anyone comes by” and the girls started walking away.  The women in the back of the group took one last step onto the drunkards outstretched hands and uncaringly twisted and ground down with all their weight as they walked over his fingers with their boots.  It was their parting gift to him.

When the girls were 100 or so yards away from the scene, Abby said to the group “Now everyone get cleaned up as best you can so you look presentable when you enter your homes.” Then she further counseled “And after you arrive, go straight to your room to get changed.”  

The rest of the walk for the girls was uneventful though the women were all excited and constantly chattering like schoolgirls.  The energy in the group was palpable.    

A week later Abby revisited the neighborhood.  She stopped at one of the stores and struck up a conversation with the local merchant.  “So how have things been ?  Any scandalous crimes to report ?”  The old man said “no, just some pickpockets and drunken fights.  You know, the usual.”  Abby was disappointed to hear that her woman’s group vigilante moment went unnoticed.  And then the old shopkeeper said “Come to think of it, there was an odd thing that happened recently.  Last week a drunk passed out on the street and got run over by a herd of goats or sheep or something.  Some kind of animal with hard hooves that left marks all over his body.“  “Ooo, that does sound dangerous” Abby replied with a gleam in her eye.  “Goes to show it’s not a good idea to make powerful creatures angry.”  And she gave the shopkeeper a lovely smile and was on her way.