Whenever anyone thinks of the Suffragette movement, particularly in Manchester, one of the first names to come to mind is Emmeline Pankhurst.
Her story is well known – a girl from Moss Side, born into a politically active family, was introduced to the suffrage movement aged just 14 and ultimately helped British women to win the vote and create historic change.
The Pankhurst’s name today is synonymous with women’s suffrage, as are the Kenneys of Saddleworth.
But in the early years of the suffragette movement, before it had a name and was just a few pesky women making some political noise, there was another figure – oft-forgotten – who inspired the women around her to make history.
Her name was Lydia Becker and she hailed from Accrington.
Born in 1827 to a large middle-class family, as a young girl Becker was home-schooled alongside her siblings and took a big interest in nature and botany.
She often wrote to Charles Darwin with questions and the two developed a friendly correspondence, with Lydia sometimes sending him samples of plants from around Manchester to study.
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But as well as growing into a noted botanist, as a young woman she was fascinated by politics and got involved in the suffrage movement at a very early stage.
Having studied in great detail the reproductive science of plants, in particular the bisexual and hermaphrodite species, she soon turned her mind to the gender politics of society.
Inspired by a fellow sister scientist, Barbara Bodichon, who had published a paper entitled The Enfranchisement of Women in 1866, Lydia moved to found the Manchester Women’s Suffrage Committee – the first of its kind in the country.
Not much time after founding her committee, Lydia heard about a local woman – a widow – whose name had appeared by accident on an electoral roll. Sensing an opportunity, she and Lily Maxwell went to the polling station together and demanded she be allowed to cast a ballot. She was, and it caused a ruckus.
Spurred on, soon enough Lydia was encouraging all female heads of household to do the same – and was ultimately instrumental in bringing their petitions to court.
The following year, she was one of the central organisers and speakers at the first-ever meeting of the National Society for Women’s Suffrage and soon found herself undertaking speaking tours across the country.
This was years before the Pankhursts and at a time when it was completely unheard of for women to get involved in politics in any way. To even suggest that a woman should vote in elections was to completely put yourself out on a limb.
Simply put, politics was for men – it was not considered ‘ladylike’ for a woman to stand up in a public place and spout her opinions. Lydia didn’t let this put her off, though.
She simply ignored the naysayers (and there were a lot of them) and kept on going on her tours up and down the country after forming the Women’s Suffrage Journal in 1870, alongside Jessie Boucherett.
At one of these meetings in 1874, there was a young girl sitting in the audience. A fifteen-year-old Emmeline Pankhurst, who from that day forward would be completely committed to the cause after hearing Lydia speak.
As the movement began to gather pace, one thing that set Lydia apart from her counterparts was her ardent support for the vote of single and unmarried women. These women, she argued, were more in need of the vote than their married counterparts (who ultimately secured the vote first in 1918).
It was a point on which she and Emmeline Pankhurst were to disagree, but just as with everything else, Lydia stuck to her guns on her opinions – no matter what ridicule she faced. And there was a lot.
Just as women today who speak or act out against the status quo are often maligned (Jameela Jamil springs to mind, but there are many more), Lydia was subject to merciless teasing – particularly from politicians and the press.
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She wore wire-framed glasses and was made into somewhat of a caricature by cartoonists, who ridiculed her “extreme” views and looks. One cartoon cruelly depicted her being thrown out of parliament wrapped in the Women’s Suffrage Bill.
She also used her position as an educationist to champion the idea that there was no difference in the intelligence levels of men and women, a position that was considered truly revolutionary at the time.
She passed away aged 63 at Aix-les-Bains in 1890, and her name can be found today on a family headstone in St James, Altham. Quite rightly, it can also be found on the Reformers’ Memorial in Kensal Green Cemetery, London, alongside other great reformers and innovators.
Although Lydia died several decades before women would win the right to vote, if it wasn’t for her then we might still be the second-class citizens we were in the 1800s.
Roger Fulford best sums it up In VotesforWomen: TheStoryofaStruggle, when he writes: “The history of the decades from 1860 to 1890 – so far as women’s suffrage is concerned – is the story of Miss Becker.”
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A true pioneer and an inspiration for many women, her name deserves to be remembered.
A masterclass in The Art of Loving: Olivia Dean brings two unforgettable nights to Co-op Live
Emily Johnson
Olivia Dean took over Co-op Live for not one, but two nights this weekend – and what she delivered felt like a full-circle celebration of The Art of Loving, her incredible sophomore album.
From the moment Olivia’s silhouette appeared behind the curtain on night two, opening with the album’s title track, it was clear this evening was going to be special.
With a sea of polka dots on arrival, it’s evident that the 27-year-old already has great influence when it comes to style with her fans, and you could spot anyone who was attending Olivia Dean around Manchester city centre immediately.
Despite performing to a crowd of over 20,000 people, the performance felt incredibly intimate, with interactions with the crowd through the evening, even pointing out a fan’s banner saying they had been a fan of Olivia since 2019, which she was humbly taken aback by.
Her voice carried effortlessly around the arena, somehow still managing to feel soft and personal, like she was singing directly to you.
No Dean show would be complete without her incredible outfits either, and last night we were truly spoilt, with two outfit changes throughout the evening, which split the night into three chapters.
Initially appearing in a black sequin number, before reappearing in the middle of the crowd in an all-white outfit, evocative of an angel – a moment that felt intimate even in a room that size.
Later, with disco balls lowered and the energy lifted, she returned in another glitzy look for the more upbeat tracks, including a crowd-pleasing cover of ‘Move On Up’. With her band behind her, the sound filled the arena beautifully.
Everyone was on their feet having a good time, but no one was having as much fun as the woman herself, Olivia Dean.
And that’s the thing with Miss Dean, no one at her gigs is having half as much fun as she is. She’s always smiling, always glowing.
Put simply, she’s a proper ray of sunshine on stage. Towards the end of the show, Olivia looked up at the crowd and stated, “It’s magic in here tonight, Manchester”, and we all believed her.
Looking around at the crowd, arms around each other, best friends, couples – it was hard not to feel the magic too.
Highlights included ‘UFO’ with a sea of lights, which in the moment gave the whole room goosebumps, and of course, the confetti cannon, which was the grand finale to an incredible evening.
Yungblud channels a bit of magic that’d make Ozzy proud on huge headline night in Manchester
Lonnie Bowes
A darkened arena erupts into life as Yungblud storms the AO Arena main stage for his biggest Manchester show to date.
He flickers across the giant screens, projected against a curtain that stretches the full width of the AO Arena. Then that unmistakable Doncaster drawl cuts through the noise, urging the audience to make some noise (even more of it), and they oblige – gladly.
When the lights come up, a barrage of lights flickers, pyrotechnics explode, and chaos ensues. Manchester crowds are no strangers to Yungblud; he’s a livewire performer with seemingly endless energy, a proclivity for raw emotion, and a fiercely loyal fanbase: the self-proclaimed ‘Black Hearts Club’.
Dressed in a grungy pair of Chrome Hearts leather trousers, a leopard-print waistcoat and sunglasses so thick he could look directly at the sun with no issues, he tears straight into the opening track (Hello Heaven, Hello) with barely a second to breathe.
He then pauses – hands extended to the crowd, a cheeky grin – and bang: confetti fills the room.
If previous Manchester shows hinted at his stamina, this one confirms it. The scale may be bigger, but the intensity hasn’t dipped. The floor quickly becomes a sea of movement, with mosh pits swelling and collapsing in waves, sending bodies ricocheting across the arena.
It’s the kind of gig where you’re never quite safe from getting drenched either – water cups are less for drinking and more for launching, with sprays arcing out over the front rows like some kind of punk rock baptism of fire. So many flames.
The audience was on the ball; at one point, Yungblud’s comb was hurled into the crowd. Showgoers in the area tussled over the item for a minute before returning to the mayhem unfolding around them.
Part conductor, part chaos agent, part mic-wielding cowboy, he commands the room with ease. The mic stand, placed in front of him between each song by the production team, is repeatedly cast to the back of the stage, and he flails the mic above his head on more than one occasion – always catching it again before it can strike anyone else. It’s reckless, but never careless.
Because beneath the sweat and noise, there’s something more deliberate at play. His speeches on identity, equality, belonging and mental health feel less like interludes and more like the backbone of the entire night.
This isn’t just performance: it’s a space he’s actively shaping, one where thousands feel seen. Towards the back end of the set, he invites the whole crowd to look left and right and tell each other how much they f***ing love one another.
Tracks like ‘Loner’, ‘Lowlife’ and ‘Zombie’ land with particular weight, their messages amplified by a crowd that knows every word. At one point, the lights swing out over the audience, and for a moment the focus shifts – not just to the performer, but to the community he’s built.
With a touching tribute to the late, great Ozzy Osbourne, Yungblud is visibly emotional, with tears in his eyes for his dearly departed friend. And if the ringing in my ears is anything to go by, I’m pretty sure Ozzy heard it and was looking down with pride.
If you haven’t guessed by now, Yungblud knows how to command a room, but things definitely took a turn when he invited a member of the crowd on stage.
Holding a poster that read something along the lines of “I can play guitar”, she was brought up and proceeded to absolutely bring the house down, performing alongside him for a song. Daisy, hats off – you absolutely SMASHED it.
Congratulations are in order as well to the happy couple who got engaged at the gig. We really hope your first dance is to a Yungblud track.
Even in a venue of this size, he moves like he’s trying to outpace it; sprinting, leaping, barely standing still long enough to catch a breath. It’s hard not to feel like this is still just a stepping stone. Because if he can command a room like this with such force, it’s not a stretch to imagine Yungblud scaling even bigger stages before long.
Loud, relentless and emotionally charged, this wasn’t just a gig, it was a statement – a place to escape the struggles of day-to-day life and bolster an ever-growing community built on all the right things: acceptance, harmony, and just a little bit of chaos. In short, he’s welcome back anytime.
Georgina Pellant -
7th March 2023 
