Women's History

First edition, first impression of the key bibliography of Stopes’ phenomenal literary output, encompassing not only her family planning and scientific publications, but also poetry, plays, translations and travel writing, fairy tales, and her only novel.

First edition. Author Constance de Salm (1767-1845) was a highly regarded French writer and moral philosopher, and an important member of a circle of leading intellectuals and scientists. Though forgotten for much of the 19th and 20th centuries, she is now the subject of renewed historical interest, providing a window onto the lives and intellectual networks of women in Revolutionary and Napoleonic France.

De Salm spent most of her life promoting the equality of women, and her most important work, the poem Épître aux femmes (1797), was a direct attack on the language and social structures that uphold patriarchy, as well as an exhortation to women to liberate themselves. During her career “she used a variety of genres to address issues of importance to women, such as equal access to educational opportunities and to family courts, recognition of intellectual achievement, the infantilization of women and the denigration of their abilities, the cost to women’s health of reproduction, and adequately renumerated work for poor, widowed, and single women. In many ways she can be usefully compared to Mary Wollstonecraft…” (Hine, Constance de Salm, Her Influence and Her Circle in the Aftermath of the French Revolution, p. 4).

De Salm’s friendships with scientists were an important part of her intellectual life. She was close to the astronomer Joseph-Jérome Lalande, who left her his unpublished manuscripts and asked her to write his eulogy. “Not only did she know Lalande well enough to have him entrust her with securing his legacy, but she was acquainted with renowned scientists like the natural philosopher Auguste de Candolle, the botany professor at the Jardin du Roi, Antoine de Jussieu, the naturalist Alexander von Humboldt… all of whom were among her circle of friends and frequented her salon… Her involvement can be used to illustrate the shift from earlier philosophical debates among scientists to the increasing interest on the part of women in scientific culture in the latter part of the eighteenth and the early part of the nineteenth centuries ” (Hine pp. 2-3).

The present text, Twenty-Four Hours in the Life of a Sensitive Woman, is an epistolary novel exploring the mindset of a woman whose lover may have abandoned her for another. It was praised by her friend, the author Stendhal and is now rare in the first edition. We can locate only one institutional copy, at the British Library.

Second edition, volume II only. An unusual educational text on Greek mythology for girls between ten and fourteen by the French literature professor Nicolas Eugène Géruzez (1799-1865) of the Sorbonne, attractively illustrated with six double-page plates of mythological figures. This volume begins with the seventh week of lessons and continues through the 12th, so presumably the first volume covers the first six weeks. Though the title page states that this is the second edition, the publishing history of these mythological texts by Geruzez is confused, with several appearing in WorldCat under slightly different titles during the late 1830s and early 40s, though all are rare on the market.

During the first half of the 19th century, hairwork was a popular way to both mourn the dead and to commemorate friendships and family connections with the living. A largely female workforce specialised in preparing hair for brooches, pendants, and bracelets. In some cases hair from two or more individuals was braided together, in others the hair was arranged decoratively or used to create elaborate sentimental images. This is a particularly nice example of the art, mounted in 14-18k gold and dating from the first decades of the 19th century. The hair clipping has been fanned and curled into an elegant wave shape with a tiny seed pearl “clasp” at the base, and the reverse is monogrammed “AB”.

First edition of this guide to miniature painting designed for the education of young ladies. The author, Andre Leon Larue was born in 1785 and known professionally as Mansion. The son of a portrait painter, he worked as a miniaturist and also achieved remarkable results as a tinter of photographs during the 1840s and 50s. This was his first book on painting; the second was The Principles and Practice of Harmonious Colouring in Oil, Water, and Photographic Colours on Paper, Glass and Silver Plate. The present volume was reviewed by The Gentleman's Magazine as "a pleasing and useful assistant to the young student, affording much instruction in all departments of the art; with a short sketch of the various merits of many of the Old Masters, and most of the eminent modern ones".

At the time this book was published miniature painting was considered an important accomplishment for young upper-class women, a demonstration of moral virtue and elevated aesthetic sensibility. Painting guides provided technical information but also "took pains to situate both the reader-cum-painter and the product within a social and cultural milieu of aestheticized gentility". In this case, Mansion has written the guide not solely as a technical manual, but as a story with a young female protagonist whose "adventures and relationships grounded the sentiments associated with miniatures in narrative and dialogue" and whose "progress as a painter, specifically as a miniaturist, unfolded apace with her progress as a young lady" (Kelly, Republic of Taste, p. 110).

 Cabinet card depicting a female cyclist. 

The cabinet card, essentially a larger version of the carte de visite, was a popular format for portraiture from the 1860s until the early years of the 20th century, when Brownies and other affordable cameras made it possible for people to take their own photographs. Meanwhile, the introduction of the safety bicycle in the 1890s had created a wave of interest in the sport, and women were especially keen on the freedom and power they offered. Some suffragettes argued that they could help upend traditional gender relations, and they contributed significantly to the reform of women’s dress. Suffragettes or not, cabinet cards photographs of women posing with their bicycles - usually dressed to the nines as in this example - became popular. The photographer who created this example, A. Mason, is not recorded, but his studio was in Herne Hill, and one wonders if he did a good trade with the cyclists using the velodrome. A charming record of women’s cycling history.

An evocative Second World War photo album and group of naval publications representing life on the American home front for Red Cross worker Elizabeth Ridley (1912-2004) and her sister Christine Ridley (b. 1920), a naval air mechanic. The sisters were originally from New Jersey, but moved throughout the US as part of their wartime work and would later settle in Washington D. C. Elizabeth’s pre-war career is unknown, but after the war she continued to work for the Red Cross in Riverton, New Jersey, and in later life was employed at the Library of Congress. Christine was originally a teacher before joining the Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service (WAVES - officially the Naval Women’s Reserve), which began operating in 1942. Her preliminary training as a naval aviation mechanic was undertaken at the Naval Air Technical Training Center in Memphis, Tennessee, followed by advanced training for Petty Officer Second Class in Atlanta Georgia.

Elizabeth’s album compiles several years worth of photographs beginning in 1941, presenting a wonderful cross-section of American life during the War. The pages are filled with both formal and informal snaps of friends and family, the many individuals in military uniform evoking the War’s long reach into ordinary Americans’ lives. Included are numerous pictures of Elizabeth and her colleagues in their Red Cross uniforms, two large and particularly nice shots of a Red Cross office with booster posters on the walls, and an image of Red Cross workers marching in a parade. There are also numerous photos of Christine in her naval uniform, two taken outside a Naval training office.

Despite the troubled times most of the images are light-hearted and depict family reunions, days out, and travel, including trips to Florida; Texas (with shots of the Alamo and one of a bomber approaching Kelly Field); Gulfport, Mississippi; the beach at Hampton Bays, New York (with a series of shots of the sisters and their friends in bathing costumes and also bicycling down a country road); the Rochester Yacht Club; Washington D.C., and other unnamed locations.

A charming series of photos taken during Christmas 1941 depicts John Knight and Bob Phelps, who appear in what may be police uniforms, posing with the girls, horse-playing, and making snowballs. Two pages include photos taken with four male friends, “Vic & Jock” in naval uniforms and “Ted & Chippy” in suits. Two pages are devoted to formal shots of Elizabeth’s wedding day on April 10th, 1942, and the single full colour photo, a small Kodachrome, shows Christine’s wedding day, with Elizabeth as the maid of honour in a red dress. Later images include Christine and her husband posing with their first baby, and the child, a little older now, playing with a puppy and various toys, followed by black & white shots of Christine’s wedding.

Also included are three Naval publications related to Christine’s training as a member of WAVES. The first, titled Navy Log, is the yearbook for her course in aviation mechanics at the Naval Air Technical Training Center in Memphis, Tennessee. We Keep ‘Em Flying is an entertaining and richly illustrated souvenir book on life at the same center, and Tattoo is a similar publication produced for the US Naval Air Station in Atlanta, Georgia, where Christine had her second round of training. Bot publications include information on life at the stations, including images of military personnel at work and pursuing leisure activities, and information on sites of interest in the surrounding areas.

Overall this collection is a compelling look at life for two American women participating in the mass mobilization of American society during the Second World War.

A beautiful, 78 page chromolithographic catalogue for the American Products Company’s Zanol line of cosmetics, food products, and home goods, including 16 pages in full colour. A superb example of Art Deco marketing design.

The American Products Company was founded in 1907 by three brothers, Albert, Edgar and Clarence Mihalovitch (Albert later changed his surname to Mills), of Cincinnati, who hoped to capture the growing Midwestern consumer market (see “Cosmetics by the American products Company”, Collecting Vintage Compacts blog, January 2012). This catalogue promotes “Shopping in Your Own Home the Zanol Way”, and explains that “the Zanol plan affords you the opportunity of buying the finest products possible to produce, direct from the maker, delivered right to your home, absolutely fresh, unconditionally guaranteed... The complete Zanol line comprises more than 350 products... all of them made from the choicest ingredients in our sanitary, daylight Pure Food Kitchens and Laboratories, under the direction of skilled chemists, chefs, and dieticians”.

Advertised here are a wide array of consumables, with a focus on powders and syrups that could be shipped easily and would appeal to an emerging middle class who were time and money-conscious. For the kitchen there are food flavourings and colours, and numerous instant mixes for soft drinks, jams and jellies, icing, cakes, pies, and puddings. Among them are Ezemade pumpkin pie filling (”it is now possible to serve delicious pumpkin pie throughout the year”); Flakykrust instant pie crust; Mapelade instant maple syrup (”now you can afford delicious maple syrup whenever you want it”); and even Ezemade ice cream powder (”just add to a quart of milk and freeze”). The broad selection of home goods include medications and hygiene products, house cleaning and repair supplies, hot water bottles, paints, insecticide, and even a set of salt and pepper shakers. Perhaps the most appealing section is the beauty line, comprising soaps and toothpaste (”don’t envy pretty teeth - have them”); face and body powders; a variety of lotions including almond, lemon and witch hazel, cucumber and benzoine, and “dermaline of roses” (”keep the alluring charms of radiant youth”); shampoos, pomade, and hair tonics; cosmetics including powder compacts and tubes of lipstick; and perfumes, primarily their three main lines, La Bara (named after the silent film “vamp” Theda Bara, best known for playing Cleopatra), Fleur d’Orient, and Dream Girl. There are also a number of gift sets packaging perfumes, soaps and cosmetics, including a shaving kit for men, sets for new mothers, and an attractive La Barra manicure kit.

Content advisory: contains anti-Semitism.

A dense, detailed, and revealing diary chronicling the first two years of the Second World War by Marjorie True of Peterborough’s Cathedral precinct, who was active in the Women’s Voluntary Service. In addition to the eighty-six pages of manuscript text there are sixty-five photographs pasted-in, as well as ephemera (including her clothes ration book and City of Peterborough registration card for Civil Defence Duties) and news clippings, mainly documenting her civil defence work. This diary is of historical importance and would benefit from knowledgeable institutional cataloguing and conservation.

True seems to have begun her diary specifically to document the war, with the first entry dated September 2nd, 1939: “On the verge of war. Germany bombed Warsaw & has marched into Poland at several points. No ultimatum — the final note from Germany to Poland with terms was never sent. British Gov. waiting for answer to our ultimatum to Hitler. Father who is 71 is an air raid warden. His job is to patrol the street from the Cathedral gateway to Bishop’s Road & see all is in darkness — give advice & warning... I am an ambulance driver’s attendant which meant being trained in first aid, gas & map reading...”

The diary continues in this fashion for the next two years, chronicling international events alongside her voluntary work, local goings-on, private and public sentiment, and rumours. She closely follows the advances of Germany and Russia across the continent, and the efforts made by western European governments and armies as one by one they fell to the Blitzkrieg, often commenting on the fortitude of the Europeans.

May 15^th, 1940: “Today the Dutch Army have laid down their arms. Barely a week ago they were a free people. The Queen, government, Princess Juliana & children are all in England.” Sunday, May 19^th: “The war is getting very close now. There is a terrible melee taking place in Sedan and on the French Belgian border — The Germans have penetrated about 60 odd miles into France. They have brought super heavy tanks which have gone through the weakest part of the Maginot Line.” Saturday, June 15th: “The Germans marched into Paris yesterday. A heavy depression has all but NOT despair. To-day we had most of our windows painted with triplex. This should prevent the glass from flying if shattered.”

During this early part of the war True focuses on the watching and waiting in Britain, a time during which she and her fellow citizens were swinging between anxiety and inattention. In September 1939 she writes that “here things are getting rather slack. We feel Hitler cannot bother with us until Poland is finished. Already people are forgetting their gas masks…” Later, “For weeks now we have all been suffering from colds in the head. In fact they have been so persistent that there have been grave doubts in some parts that it could be one of Hitler’s trump cards, or his ‘Secret Weapon’ which he boasts of.” She describes her experience of measures such as the blackout and reports that, “Amongst the things I miss is the sounding of the church clocks in the night”. In December that year she visits London for the first time since the outbreak of war and describes seeing “high in the sky only just visible in the fog & mist… barrage balloons looking rather like fat sausages with large [?] fins. Sandbags everywhere — but apart from the darkened streets & shops there seemed quite as many people as ever.”

But always there is the sense that Germany is getting closer, and True carefully records instances of German fighters being downed in the Firth of Forth and Scapa Flow, as well as the numerous U-boat attacks on ocean liners and Allied battleships.

The unprecedently severe winter of 1939/40 is a frequent subject. On January 25^th, 1940 she writes, “This cold has nearly driven us all crazy - frost & snow - burst pipes - water coming through ceilings & general awful discomfort has been our lot for what seems like months”. And she discusses the rationing that had just started. “To-day Father went through the business of procuring our sugar for making homemade marmalade or jam! The fruiterer gives one a signed receipt for so many lbs of Seville oranges (no sugar is allowed for the sweet oranges) this has to be taken to the food control office where a [?] is made out for 1lb of sugar to each 16 of fruit. What a game.”

Other aspects of the diary are both troubling and revealing. In recent decades historians have been at pains to point out that the perception of British self-sacrifice and “stiff upper lip” during the war was only part of a much more complex and morally ambiguous reality, with elements of class, colonialism, and anti-Semitism often at the forefront of events. This is apparent almost immediately in the diary, when on September 3rd, 1939 True reports that, “Since 11 am we have been at war with Germany. All day there has been a flood of evacuees from London — hundreds & hundreds of women & children all housed at the Government’s expense & billeted on private homes here — almost as we were sitting down to lunch we had 2 women & 3 children thrust on us... All the evacuees seem to be Jewish. Why they should choose a small cathedral town to let them loose on beats me. In a very short time both women were grumbling so we tried to get them removed & fortunately were able to do so late in the day to Mrs. Mellow at Vineyard House... We are sorry for these women who have had to break up their homes but they forget our homes are broken up too. Life would have been unbearable had we had to live with that crowd — the women were passable but horribly cheap — the kind who jar horribly”.

Again, in September of the following year she reports that, “The town is again getting flooded with refugees – real refugees this time. People whose houses are in ruins or who have fled the unceasing crash of A.A. guns & explosions. There are some terrible looking Jews about, I would be glad if those people did not send such a feeling of loathing thro’ on. Why is it? I always feel I must hurry by because what I am feeling must be written on my face.”

True was a member of the Women’s Voluntary Services, working as an ambulance driver’s attendant and stationed at the local swimming pool. Many entries record her training sessions, experiences of nights on call, and interactions with other volunteers.

Early in the diary there are multiple reports about conflict over some volunteers being paid, a practice that True disdained, with strong undertones of classism. “…there is a rather [?] air amongst the many so called ‘voluntary’ helpers. I say ‘so called’ because so many of them are being paid... I was called to the Ambulance Station last Friday and stayed there from 7 to 10-20. For this I get nothing however many times I do it after my day’s work. The whole idea of payment is pernicious...”

Voluntary work could be physically difficult but emotionally rewarding. On May 11^th, 1941 True describes a practice session. “Saturday I tried my hand at putting out a fire by a stirrup pump. As I was wearing my best slacks & not the usual dungarees, I did not feel too enthusiastic when Mr. Brown invited us to try. However, rolling up my slacks & wearing an old oilskin over my Ambulance coat I waded in. It was great fun really... All went well except for my helmet which fell off… Also we were taken — four at a time into a smoke-filled room — here we had to crawl round the room…I felt sure I was to be the one to cry out for the door to be opened but pride as usual came to the rescue and I crawled out with the others after the longest four or five minutes of my life.”

But there are also happier times. True frequently writes about the other women who were good companions during long days and nights, and the socialising they did. Most of these friend and colleagues are mentioned by name and depicted in the numerous photographs pasted-in to the diary (there are also several pages where True has had the other women sign their own names.) Some photos depict the volunteers doing practice exercises such as preparing equipment, cleaning an ambulance, carrying a comrade on a stretcher, and wearing gas masks and emergency oilskins “for mustard gas”. Other images are casual, and show women relaxing together, having tea, holding pets, and posing in front of official vehicles. True usually rode her bicycle to the station, and there are several photos labelled with variations of “Me & my bike”, including one in uniform. There are also images of True’s father — with the handlebar moustache of a different era — in his warden uniform. Additionally, newspaper clippings record the visit of the Marchioness of Reading to the station, as well as a test mobilisation of firefighters in downtown Peterborough (“that’s me talking to Mrs. Fowlis in the ambulance”).

By spring of 1940 the tension reflected in the diary has considerably ramped up, with the German threat coming ever closer to Peterborough. The diary covers the entire period of the Blitz and Battle for Britain, which began that summer, and reports on events throughout the country. On June 19^th True describes the anxious wait for the large-scale air raids that the population knew was coming. “A whole week gone & no Battle for England – or rather Britain started yet. Our airmen have put in some marvellous work – this may be one factor. However many hours grace means a lot to us.” And by September she is reporting on the effects of the Blitz, which began on the 7^th. Her entry for September 14^th, 1940 reads, “London has suffered terribly – & not only London. The Docks have been the chief target but Buckingham Palace received its first & let’s hope last bomb the other night. There have been marvellous tales of courage…”

In early June True describes Peterborough’s first air raid.

Friday June 7th: “This morning about 1-15am? we had our first real air raid warning. It was hot & still and my window was wide open & I suddenly wakened to the fearful din of the air raid siren. I have often said when listening to the practices that we should never hear it but at 1-15 am on a still summer morning it sounded absolutely devilish. After the first paralysing second I leapt out of bed and tried feverishly to get into my battle dress which by great good fortune was handy. Of course the dungarees went on back to front & it seemed hours to me before I set off on my cycle to the ambulance station. At first I was so rattled I had to get off my bike but gradually I calmed down & rode as fast as the darkness would allow — arriving at last to find I was the first of the part timers to appear. I was given a hearty welcome and we then commenced our long wait until the ‘all clear’ went at 3-15. We looked a grim party of women — none of us looking our best, shining noses and hair entirely out of hand. Now and then we heard the uneven drone of the German planes but that thank goodness was all that happened.”

Saturday June 8th: “Last night we had our baptism by fire. To-day the town has a weary look after two practically sleepless nights. About 1-15 again — without any warning a German plane dropped what sounded like three or four bombs in Bridge St., Bishop’s Gardens & the swimming pool!... It is not just a bang - there is a sickening thud which shatters the nerves - At the first moment I felt sick & then began gathering my things in my arms to get downstairs… I must say I listened carefully and sought the sky before venturing forth... What I hate most is thinking of Father on his beat, right in the midst of things. He says that there are several good places to shelter but we are very worried. After another ghastly ride with my heart beating like a sledge hammer & my knees knocking I arrived for the second night in succession at the A.S.”

True seems to have returned to this diary much later in life, as there are a few annotations in a spidery ballpoint pen and some pieces of late-20th century ephemera inserted. On one loose wartime photo of a group of women she writes “How easily one forgets. My Party. This is what I remember of my Party.” The final contemporary entry is dated October 26^th, 1941, and ends on the recto of the very last page in the diary. On the verso of that page True has obtained the signatures of a number of her colleagues, and below them, she has later written: “I wish I had got more names to help my memory now on April 12 1992 when the war is over…” This is followed by additional text that is difficult to read because it has been overlaid with white address label stickers, presumably because she or a relative wanted it to remain private.

First edition of this important book on the use of “twilight sleep” anaesthesia during labour by the female surgeon who first advocated its use in the United States. Rare, with WorldCat listing only electronic copies, and only one copy appearing in auction records (Bonhams 2020).

Born into a Michigan farming family, Bertha van Hoosen (1863-1952) insisted on a medical education despite her parent’s active opposition, and put herself through school by working as a teacher, obstetrical nurse, and demonstrator in anatomy. After graduating she opened a private practice and also worked at the Woman’s Medical School of Northwestern University and as a professor of clinical gynaecology at the Illinois University Medical School. In 1918 Van Hoosen became the first woman to head a medical division at a coeducational university when she was appointed professor and head of obstetrics at Loyola. She was a founder and first president of the American Medical Women's Association, and advocated for women physicians to serve in the First World War.

“Throughout her career, Bertha van Hoosen’s major interest was in women’s health. She was an excellent general surgeon, but she was particularly concerned with women and children. She pioneered the use of scopolamine-morphine anaesthesia for childbirth. Although this method, known as twilight sleep, had become popular in Germany, it was not used in the United States. She produced a book and two articles on her research in this area” (Ogilvie, Biographical Dictionary of Women in Science p. 1320).

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An original Second World War poster promoting women in the wartime workforce, produced in 1942 by the War Manpower Commission. At the time, “Women in the War” was one of the most widely distributed images of a woman labouring in war production, unlike the “We Can Do It” poster, which was produced only for Westinghouse plants during a few weeks in 1943 and did not become iconic until the 1980s.

“Among the many agencies President Roosevelt had created during the war was the War Manpower Commission, formed in April 1942 to oversee war labor issues in the military, industrial, and civilian sectors. And in June 1942, the Office of War Information was formed to manage the flows of news and propaganda about the war to the public. By 1943, when the labor shortage was most acute, the two agencies worked together in concerted campaigns, targeting employers to hire women and women to become ‘production soldiers’” (Yellin, Our Mothers’ War, p. 44). Women labouring in factories, even in the service of the war effort, was controversial, with only 30 percent of husbands giving unqualified support to the idea of their wives performing such jobs. “Despite the tide of public opinion against working wives, War Manpower Commission director Paul McNutt had a strategy for quelling opposition: ‘The money appeal will continue strong,’ he said in 1943, but we’ll concentrate on patriotism’. Sure enough, all across the country, the public was bombarded with spirited print and radio ads, magazine articles, and posters with slogans like ‘Do the Job He Left Behind’ or ‘Women in the War—We Can’t Win Without Them’ depicting noble, pretty but serious, female war workers on the job... The campaigns glamorized war work, always showing that women could maintain their femininity and still be useful” (Yellin, pp. 45-46).

Examples of this important poster are held at numerous institutions, including the Library of Congress, Imperial War Museum, MOMA, and the Pritzker Military Museum. Copies in such beautiful, unused condition are uncommon in commerce.

An early edition of this sumptuous chromolithographic beauty catalogue originally introduced at the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exposition by the California Perfume Company. The firm was founded in 1886 by door-to-door book salesman David H. McConnell and would later become Avon. This catalogue includes 31 plates depicting perfumes and air fresheners, soaps, shampoo, skin creams, shaving kits, toothpaste, gift sets, food flavourings and colours, laundry powder, detergent, and household cleaning supplies. Of particular note are the attractive Art Deco packaging designs, a key aspect of the company’s success.

These catalogues were expensive to produce but extremely successful at promoting the company’s products. Between 1915 and 1917 they were bound with screw-back posts so that pages could be added and removed, but after 1924 the use of screw-back posts was discontinued, so that salesmen were required to buy new catalogues. Price lists were originally issued separately, but this was discontinued in 1919, and this catalogue includes product details and prices interleaved on a lighter paper stock.

An early edition of this sumptuous chromolithographic beauty catalogue originally introduced at the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exposition by the California Perfume Company. The firm was founded in 1886 by door-to-door book salesman David H. McConnell and would later become Avon. This catalogue includes 35 plates depicting perfumes and air fresheners, soaps, shampoo, skin creams, shaving kits, toothpaste, gift sets, food flavourings and colours, laundry powder, detergent, and household cleaning supplies. Of particular note are the attractive Art Deco packaging designs, a key aspect of the company’s success. There are a number of items from the Avon line, which by 1930 had become the dominant products.

These catalogues were expensive to produce but extremely successful at promoting the company’s products. Between 1915 and 1917 they were bound with screw-back posts so that pages could be added and removed, but after 1924 the use of screw-back posts was discontinued, so that salesmen were required to buy new catalogues. Price lists were originally issued separately, but this was discontinued in 1919, and this catalogue includes product details and prices interleaved on a lighter paper stock.

A rare poster advertising Embrace the Base, one of the key mass actions at the Greenham Common Women’s Peace Camp. We have been able to locate only two copies in institutional collections, at the LSE Women’s Library and the Glasgow Women’s Library.

The Greenham Common protest was established in September of 1981 by the Welsh group Women for Life on Earth, who were opposed to the deployment of nuclear tipped cruise missiles at the site. What was initially planned as a single march became a permanent protest camp, one of the most significant and longest lasting women’s protests of the 20th century. In February 1982, for political reasons, the camp was made women only, and the following month they engaged in their first blockade of the base. Embrace the Base was their next major action. Taking place on December 12th & 13th, 1982, it saw 30,000 women from across from across the UK—drawn by chain letter, word of mouth, and posters such as this one—join hands to surround the nine mile perimeter fence. This copy of the poster seems to have been used in Birmingham, and includes instructions for obtaining coach tickets at the “Peace Centre (opp New Street Station)”, as well as local activist contact details, in marker pen.

As well as being an early and rare example of Greenham Common ephemera, this poster is particularly interesting in that is features a spider web, “a frequently reoccurring symbol in Greenham women’s cultural imaginary” because of its mythological and symbolic associations. “The metaphor of ‘building a web’ and being connected to each other in a ‘web-like structure’ populated Greenham women’s speech and writing. Alison Young describes Greenham women’s reclamation of the spider as revolving primarily around the notion of the spider’s web. She writes that the web ‘shows connections between women or between ideas; it can be begun at any point or at any time; each single strand is weak and fragile, yet when interwoven it is strong, beautiful and efficient’ (1990, 38). In line with Young’s reading, Roseneil writes that, ‘the web was a symbol of women's collective power, seemingly fragile, but actually very strong’” (1999, 179, ft39)” (Feigenbaum, Tactics and Technology: Cultural Resistance at the Greenham Women’s Peace Camp, PhD thesis, McGill University, April 2008).

The Greenham Common camp had no hierarchy, and its nature was defined by the thousands of individual women who visited when they could or lived permanently onsite for years. The activists engaged in non-violent resistance by disrupting movement in and out of the gates, cutting down portions of the fence, and trespassing on military property, and they endured frequent police raids, arrests, and evictions. A large number of the protesters were middle aged and older; they considered themselves ordinary mothers and working women, and made a point of the fact were opposed to nuclear weapons for deeply personal reasons. Their gender was crucial to their message: “a woman’s place was not in the home, but at a protest. Women could use their identity as carers and mothers to say, this is about the future safety of our children. We weaponised traditional notions of femininity” (Suzanne Moore, “How the Greenham Common Protest Changed Lives, The Guardian, March 20th, 2017).

“Greenham was powerful. It taught my generation about collective action, about protest as spectacle, a way of life, incredibly hard but sometimes joyous. Still the image of resistance for me is not the famous photograph of a striking miner confronting a policeman at Orgreave, it is the picture of Greenham women dancing in 1982: witchy, unarmed women dancing on a missile silo. This magical, powerful image shows how the peace camp both played on traditional images of the feminine and then subverted them. Greenham created an alternative world of unstoppable women. It changed lives.” (Moore, 2017).