Josephine Butler

In the early nineteenth century it was widely accepted that prostitutes were the lowest, most immoral kind of criminal, while the men who used them were just ordinary lads fulfilling their natural impulses, and the entire subject matter was far too sordid to be brought to the attention of respectable women who would be shamefully besmirched by the mere knowledge of such goings-on. In this environment, the Contagious Diseases Act of of 1864 gave police the power to arrest any woman (and at this point the age of consent was 12 so that category included plenty of children) and subject her to a vaginal examination to determine if she was 'clean' (it is bleakly ironic that before an understanding of proper hygiene such an examination was an effective way to contract a venereal disease as the doctors used the same unsterilized instruments on every woman) and then confine her in a hospital until such time as the doctors thought she was cured.

Josephine Butler campaigned nationwide against this horrifying act, correctly pointing out that it stripped women of the right to a trial by jury, while allowing men to carry on using prostitutes and spreading diseases without any punishment at all, let alone a disincentive. As a respectable woman, of course, she ought to have been safely at home in 'ignorant bliss', and her political campaigning torpedoed her husband's academic career. She has his full support and agreement in her vocation, and their home was frequently a refuge for women.

Opposition was fierce - so fierce it seems bizarre to modern readers - she was assaulted when speaking, often needing bodyguards, and on one occasion had to be smuggled out of town in the turnip truck. Another time it turned out the venue she'd rented to speak in was a trap, opponents had filled it with cayenne pepper (Butler had famously bad lungs) and set fire to it once the meeting commenced - yeah, it sounds crazy to me too but I am not making this up!

She was such a interesting person that my main criticism of the biography is simply that it's not long enough. I wanted to know more: more about her Christian faith, more about her relationship with her children (to what extent did they feel neglected as she pursued her political goals? It's touched upon in the book), more about her saintly husband George who sounds like a lovely fellow, and more about the details of her various campaigns and the people she worked with. All in all, this book an appetiser that just made me curious to delve into other more detailed books about Butler and her colleagues.

The actual biography is less than half of the book, and the rest is follow-up about her legacy. The follow-up was vaguely interesting, but occasionally seemed a bit waffly. I am not sure I care very much which houses have a blue plaque commemorating her stay or which sculptors made a bust of her or which cathedral she ought to have been buried in. And I would've liked a lot more rigour and detail in the chapter on her political legacy: it is interesting to see how the organisations she founded to oppose sexual exploitation have evolved into organisations still working today, but if anyone in the #Metoo movement has studied her philosophy or political strategy, I'll eat my hat.

Robinson's affection for Butler shines through her narrative, which I suppose ought to be fault and perhaps would've been in a more serious book - that sounds like an insult but I don't mean it to be, this is a good book if not a weighty tome: light, easy, and interesting.

A short, workaday and and basic biography of reformer Josephine Butler, well-researched and affectionately written, and a welcome introduction to a quite remarkable woman.