MRS BESANT.
In 1874 Mr Bradlaugh lost a friend and gained one. Between himself and
the friend he lost the tie had endured through nearly five-and-twenty
years, of which the final fourteen had been passed in the closest
friendship and communion, tarnished neither by quarrel nor mistrust.
By the death of Austin Holyoake my father lost a trusty counsellor
and loyal co-worker, and the Freethought movement lost one who for
fully twenty years had served it with that earnest fidelity, high
moral courage, and unimpeachable integrity which were amongst his
most striking characteristics. In health and in sickness he toiled
incessantly to promote the interests of the cause he had at heart, and
at no time of his life did he shrink from duty or responsibility.
Austin Holyoake died in the spring of 1874, and was buried in Highgate
Cemetery in the presence of a great crowd of sorrowing friends. Just
before his death he dictated his "Sickroom Thoughts" to his wife,
uttering the last broken paragraph only a few hours before he died. For
three years he had known that death was near, and this final statement
of his opinions on death and immortality was purposely deferred until
the last moment he deemed it prudent, so that he might leave a record
of his last deliberate opinions, and as such these "Thoughts" provoked
very considerable comment.[4]
[Footnote 4: "My mind being free from any doubts on these bewildering
matters of speculation," he said, "I have experienced for twenty years
the most perfect mental repose; and now I find that the near approach
of death, the 'grim King of Terrors,' gives me not the slightest alarm.
I have suffered, and am suffering, most intensely both by night and
day; but this has not produced the least symptom of change of opinion.
No amount of bodily torture can alter a mental conviction."]
Austin Holyoake, like his friend, lived and died a poor man, and my
father pledged himself to him on his deathbed to raise a sum of £650 to
purchase the printing and publishing business hitherto conducted by Mr
Holyoake in the interests of Freethought literature. The money raised
was to benefit the widow and the two children, and the business was to
be handed over to Mr Charles Watts. A subscription which was started
realised rather less than £550, and the National Secular Society
determined to make up the balance out of a legacy left to the President
by a Dr Berwick. Unfortunately, however, Dr Berwick's trustee absconded
with the money, and consequently, as Mr Bradlaugh had promised his dead
friend that the sum of £650 should be raised, he paid the deficiency
out of his own pocket, by weekly instalments.
Austin Holyoake, the friend Mr Bradlaugh lost, was steadfast, loyal,
unassuming, and unswerving in his opinions; Mrs Annie Besant, the
friend he gained, was even more remarkable, though in a very different
way.
* * * * *
Having enrolled herself a member of the National Secular Society in
August 1874, Mrs Besant sought Mr Bradlaugh's acquaintance. They were
mutually attracted; and a friendship sprang up between them of so close
a nature that had both been free it would undoubtedly have ended in
marriage. In their common labours, in the risks and responsibilities
jointly undertaken, their friendship grew and strengthened, and the
insult and calumny heaped upon them only served to cement the bond.
This lasted for many years until Mrs Besant's ceaseless activity
carried her into paths widely divergent from those so long trodden by
her colleague, paths which brought her into close association with
persons strongly inimical to Mr Bradlaugh and the aims to which he was
devoting his life. For some time before he died, he had, as Mrs Besant
herself has written in her recently published _Autobiography_,[5] lost
all confidence in her judgment; she had disappointed him, and it would
be unworthy of both not to recognise that the disappointment was very
bitter, though his desire to serve her and shield her always remained
unchanged. For thirteen years she had stood upon the same platform
with him; and when she one day said that for ten years she had been
dissatisfied with her own teaching, he felt it very keenly, but he
neither uttered a word of blame himself, nor would he allow any one
else to blame her in his hearing.
[Footnote 5: See page 322.]
Every movement, every cause, has its ebbs and flows; there seems to be
only a certain amount of activity possible to men in the mass, and now
it flows in one direction, now in another. The Freethought movement,
when Mrs Besant came into it, had for some years been slowly but surely
increasing in activity and prosperity. The National Secular Society,
although not so complete an organisation as it was soon to become,
was nevertheless to be found in all the great centres of population.
The _National Reformer_, the representative organ of Freethought, in
the five years which lay between 1867 and 1872 had nearly doubled its
circulation, and was read in almost all parts of the world. It was
sent to the three presidencies of India, the United States and Canada,
New Zealand, Australia, the Cape of Good Hope, the West Indies, Egypt,
France, Belgium, Italy, Spain, and Germany. On its staff there were
several very able writers, and if it was not exactly a profitable
property, it at least paid its way.
People have sometimes deliberately asserted that Mrs Besant's desertion
and Mr Bradlaugh's death inflicted an irremediable injury on the cause
of Freethought, but this is merely an assertion, and one which will not
bear a moment's investigation. Happily for the human race, the growth
of public opinion does not depend upon any single man or woman, however
able, however energetic, he or she may be. The loss of a leader amongst
men may for a moment check the onward movement, and it may be there is
even a temporary reaction--a swing back--but never in the history of
the world has the loss of one of its pioneers proved an "irremediable
injury" to the cause of progress.
If indeed it should be thought, and it is a proposition that I am
not in a position to deny, that this is a moment of ebb in the tide
of Freethought, the fact would only be in harmony with the general
tendency of the times, and would prove nothing against the ultimate
acceptance of the truths of Materialism. The growth of population
in our great cities has caused the evils of poverty to press more
closely upon general attention, and the public energy is directed
towards seeking a solution for these immediately important problems,
rather than for those more abstract theorems arising out of religious
speculation.
Mrs Besant was herself obeying this tendency when, in 1886 she thought
she had found in the optimistic dreams of Socialism a remedy for this
most bitter of human ills. This was the point upon which she first
diverged from Mr Bradlaugh, and once having separated her thought from
his, the breach swiftly widened. Socialism was, as it were, the fork
in the Y of their lives. Nothing, I think, will show how far these two
had drifted asunder more than that Mr Bradlaugh should first learn of
Mrs Besant's adhesion to the Theosophical Society through an article
written by her in a weekly paper, and not from her own lips.
Mrs Besant's first contribution to the _National Reformer_ appeared
in its issue for 30th August 1874, and with that she entered in good
earnest upon the work which was to engross her for many years to come.
Over the signature of "Ajax" she commenced a series of notes, entitled
"Daybreak," which were to mark "the rising of the sun of liberty ...
when men should dare to think for themselves in theology, and act for
themselves in politics," and these notes were continued weekly for
several years. From August 1874 to April 1891 Mrs Besant remained
connected with the _National Reformer_, first as contributor, and then
as sub-editor, becoming shortly afterwards co-editor and co-proprietor.
The co-editorship was resigned in October 1887 for reasons set forth
by Mrs Besant in her _Autobiography_,[6] and the co-proprietorship
ceased with the dissolution of the partnership between herself and Mr
Bradlaugh, in December 1890.
[Footnote 6: See p. 320.]
When my father heard Mrs Besant's first lecture in August 1874, in the
Co-operative Society's Hall, Castle Street, upon the "Political Status
of Women," it impressed him as "probably the best speech by a woman"
he had ever listened to. It was not until the following year, however,
that Mrs Besant started definitely as a lecturer upon the Freethought
platform, but from that time forward she was indefatigable. She was
very fluent, with a great command of language, and her voice carried
well; her throat, weak at first, rapidly gained in strength, until she
became a most forcible speaker. Tireless as a worker, she could both
write and study longer without rest and respite than any other person
I have known; and such was her power of concentration, that she could
work under circumstances which would have confounded almost every other
person. Though not an original thinker, she had a really wonderful
power of absorbing the thoughts of others, of blending them, and of
transmuting them into glowing language. Her industry her enthusiasm,
and her eloquence made of her a very powerful ally to whatever cause
she espoused.
Mrs Besant had been connected with the Freethought party for about two
and a half years when an incident occurred which was destined to have
considerable and lasting results. In the winter of 1876 a man, alleged
to have an unpleasant reputation as a seller of indecent literature,
was convicted at Bristol for selling a pamphlet, written by an American
physician of repute, Dr Charles Knowlton. This pamphlet, entitled
"Fruits of Philosophy: An Essay on the Population Question," had been
on sale in England for forty years, and this was the first time it had
been prosecuted. It had been openly sold by James Watson, a publisher
of the highest repute, who had been dead only a short time; by Mr G.
J. Holyoake; by Austin Holyoake up to the time of his death; and by
others both in England and America. Mr Charles Watts had bought the
plates of this and other works from the widow of James Watson, and,
acting upon Mr Bradlaugh's advice, Mr Watts went to Bristol, and
declared himself the responsible publisher of the book. He was himself
arrested on 8th January 1877, and on 12th January was committed for
trial at the Central Criminal Court. The trial was to be heard on 5th
February, but before that day arrived Mr Watts came to the conclusion
that the pamphlet was indefensible, and decided to withdraw his plea
of "not guilty," and to plead "guilty" instead. Upon learning this, Mr
Bradlaugh felt exceedingly angry. "If the pamphlet now prosecuted," he
said, "had been brought to me for publication, I should probably have
declined to publish it, not because of the subject-matter, but because
I do not like its style.[7] If I had once published it, I should have
defended it until the very last." He was strongly of opinion that the
matter ought to be fought right through; and differing so widely on a
matter of principle with Mr Watts, he determined to sever all business
connection with him. He gave his reasons for this course as follows:--
[Footnote 7: The late Mr Grote, however, thought sufficiently of this
pamphlet to preserve it in his own library. He, moreover, presented a
copy to the library of the London University, where it was at the time
of this prosecution.]
"The Knowlton pamphlet is either decent or indecent. If decent,
it ought to be defended; if indecent, it should never have been
published. To judge it indecent, is to condemn, with the most severe
condemnation, James Watson, whom I respected, and Austin Holyoake,
with whom I worked. I hold the work to be defensible, and I deny the
right of any one to interfere with the full and free discussion of
social questions affecting the happiness of the nation. The struggle
for a free press has been one of the marks of the Freethought party
throughout its history, and as long as the Party permits me to hold
its flag, I will never voluntarily lower it. I have no right and no
power to dictate to Mr Watts the course he should pursue, but I have
the right and the duty to refuse to associate my name with a submission
which is utterly repugnant to my nature and inconsistent with my whole
career."
When Mr Watts' case came on for trial he pleaded "guilty," and was
released, on his own recognisances of £500, to come up for judgment
when called upon. It was contended at the trial that it was unlawful to
publish such physiological details as were to be found in Dr Knowlton's
pamphlet, even for a good purpose. Mr Bradlaugh and Mrs Besant (who
had now entered into a formal partnership under the style of "The
Freethought Publishing Company") determined to republish the pamphlet
to test the right of publication.
A great deal was said at the time by way of blaming Mr Bradlaugh for
allowing Mrs Besant to associate herself with him in this struggle,
and of lauding Mrs Besant for her great courage in this defence. Many
were the unworthy taunts cast at Mr Bradlaugh for "sheltering" himself
"behind a woman," though not one of those who sneered stayed to reflect
that even if this association had some advantages it also had distinct
disadvantages. The gain was both to the principles involved, and to my
father personally. To see a woman brave enough to stand by the side
of a man in defence of the free publication of unpopular doctrines,
was an incentive to the public to investigate those doctrines with
a view to forming an independent judgment upon them; it was also an
inspiration and a constant spur to the man--had he been the one to need
spur or inspiration in such a cause. Mrs Besant's unwearying industry
in working up the extra-legal side of the case, in hunting up in other
works statements of physiological fact exactly similar to or stronger
than those found in the prosecuted pamphlet, was invaluable. In the
week which intervened between the verdict and the sentence on their
own case, Mr Bradlaugh took the opportunity to express his appreciation
of Mrs Besant's work, and this despite the fact that her decision to
join in the defence was contrary to his wish and advice. He wrote:--
"I have often faced hard toil, but I have never had to encounter
persistent, wearying, anxious labour greater than that of the last
three months. And here--while my hand is yet free to pen these
lines--let me record my deep sense of gratitude to the woman who
has shared my fight, aided me by her help, encouraged me by her
steadfastness, and strengthened me by her counsel. It is not alone
the brilliant eloquence, patient endurance, and sustained effort
manifested for so many hours in the Court--qualities displayed by Mrs
Besant, which, coupled with her great tact, won repeated praise from
the Lord Chief Justice, and congratulations from almost the whole of
the barristers who crowded the Court--so much of Mrs Besant's work has
been recorded by most of the press in terms of the highest laudation.
The personal acknowledgment from myself is more due for the weeks of
unrecognised but most wearying and continued drudgery in analysing a
mass of scientific works, searching out authorities, and generally
preparing the huge body of materials required for use on the trial. Few
can appreciate the enormous labour involved in the careful analysis of
medical works, and their comparison, line by line, with the Knowlton
Pamphlet. Yet, without this labour, the defence would have been
impossible."
The disadvantages of the dual defence were considerable, but they were
known to very few, and were moreover purely personal. Upon Mr Bradlaugh
lay the whole responsibility of the defence; his was the mind that
planned it, and he had to conduct the fight, not merely for himself,
but for the woman beside him; he had to consider two briefs instead
of one, and as Mrs Besant was at that time totally unfamiliar with
the procedure of the Law Courts, he had to instruct her, not only in
the things it was desirable she should say, but also in those which
were better left unsaid. He was but too well aware that Mrs Besant
risked not alone imprisonment, but also the loss of her child; and in
the event of failure, and the imprisonment of both himself and his
colleague, the problem naturally presented itself, Who was to edit the
_National Reformer_, and to look after the new business? Mr Watts'
plea of "guilty," followed by Mr Bradlaugh's indignation, had for the
moment produced considerable division amongst former friends, and
there had been hardly time to reckon which were friends and which were
foes. Nothing could better mark the extent of my father's difficulty
than the fact that he had to hand over these onerous duties to us, his
daughters, two girls fresh from a dreary country life, and hardly out
of our teens. Hence, although he was justly proud that a woman whom he
held in such esteem should stand by him publicly at such a moment, it
increased his anxieties and his responsibilities enormously that Mrs
Besant's risks were so heavy, and there was thus no trusty colleague
free to undertake the burden of a weekly journal, and the drudgery of
the management of the new publishing business.
Some at least of these difficulties were pointed out to Mrs Besant;
friends besought her by every argument they could think of not to risk
the loss of her child; but she had chosen her course, and she adhered
to it in spite of all entreaties. And such is the irony of fate that
she lost the society of her daughter for ten years, and was subjected
to the grossest insult from Sir George Jessel, as Master of the Rolls,
for defending doctrines she now repudiates.