ITALY.
Full of sympathy for Italy, my father spoke much on behalf of Garibaldi
and Italian emancipation. When Garibaldi made his "famous Marsala
effort," money was collected from all parts of the United Kingdom and
sent to his assistance, mainly through the agency of W.H. Ashhurst,
Esq. And men went as well as money. "Excursionists" was the name
given to these volunteers, amongst whom not a few Freethinkers were
numbered. It was always my father's pride to remember that in 1860 he
sent Garibaldi 100 guineas. For if he had an empty purse, he had a
full heart and an eloquent tongue, and with these he minted the gold
to send to Garibaldi and Italy. I have tried, as a matter of interest,
to collect together a list of the towns where these Garibaldi lectures
were given, but I have not traced more than about half. At Sheffield
he earned £20, and Oldham, Holmfirth, Halifax, Nottingham, Rochdale,
Northampton, Mexbro', also furnished funds, each town according to
its rate of prejudice against the speaker or its ardour for the cause
he advocated. In some towns the enthusiasm was so great that hall
proprietor and bill printer refused payment in order that their fees
should swell the funds; in other places piety and prejudice was so
strong that the audiences were not large enough to furnish the actual
expenses. On receiving the money Garibaldi wrote my father a letter
with his own hand, thanking him for the services he was then rendering
to Italy. I am, unfortunately, not able to give the text of this
letter, which my father received on July 20th, 1861, for although I
have a distinct recollection of having seen it, it has either passed
into other hands or become accidentally destroyed.
Mr Bradlaugh became acquainted with Mazzini about 1858, when he was
living at Onslow Terrace, Brompton, under the name of Signor Ernesti.
From the first he won my father's heart, and to the end--although on
certain matters their opinions became widely divergent--he placed him
high above most men, reverencing in him his single-mindedness, his
purity of purpose, his steadfastness and courage. After Mazzini's
death Mr Bradlaugh wrote of him:[44] "He was one of the few men who
impress you first and always with the thorough truthfulness and
incorruptibility of their natures. Simple in his manners, with only
one luxury, his cigar, he had that fulness of faith in his cause which
is so contagious, and by the sheer force of personal contact he made
believers in the possibility of Italian unity even amongst those who
were utter strangers to his thought and hope."
[Footnote 44: "Five Dead Men Whom I Knew When Living," by Charles
Bradlaugh.]
A framed portrait of Mazzini always hung in my father's room. At
Sunderland Villa it hung in his little study; but at Circus Road, where
the crowding books rapidly usurped almost every inch of available
space, the picture hung in his bedroom. Subscriptions received for
the emancipation of Italy were acknowledged on the back of signed
photographs of Mazzini, or on specially engraved forms dated from
Caprera, but bearing Mazzini's characteristic signature. There are
doubtless many people who still retain such acknowledgments received
through Mr Bradlaugh, and just before his death, Mr Joseph Gurney, of
Northampton, very kindly gave me two that he had received in this way.
At the conclusion of his Autobiography Mr Bradlaugh wrote: "In penning
the foregoing sketch I had purposely to omit many facts connected with
branches of Italian, Irish, and French politics," because "there are
secrets which are not my own alone, and which may not bear telling for
many years to come." My father died with these secrets still untold.
For all three countries he risked his life or liberty; but, beyond
knowing this and a few anecdotes--told by him at the supper table at
the end of a day's lecturing--I know very little that is definite. I
have two letters of Mazzini's to my father without date or address; but
although they suggest many possibilities, they tell nothing:--
"MY DEAR SIR,--I do not think you can do anything for me in
the three places you mention. Of course, I shall always be glad to see
you.--Yours faithfully,
JOS. MAZZINI.
"Friday."
"My dear Mr Bradlaugh,
"Can you? Will you?
"Ever faithfully yours,
"Thursday.
JOS. MAZZINI."
Mr Bradlaugh first visited Naples in November 1861, and some of his
impressions as to Naples and Rome were recorded in the _National
Reformer_ at the time, and more than twenty years later he wrote a
description of Ischia for _Our Corner_. I have the passport issued to
him by "John, Earl Russell," on the 11th November 1861, lying before me
now; it is stamped and marked all over till there is scarcely a clear
space anywhere on it, back or front. Naples 1861, France 1861, Germany
1863, Geneva 1866, Rome 1866, France 1871, Germany (?) 1871, Spain
1873, Portugal 1873, and other places, the stamps of which are now
quite illegible. There is hardly a stamp on it that does not suggest
the possibility, nay, the certainty, of some story we would give much
to know. Naples--Rome--these bring up the thoughts of the struggle
for Italian freedom, linked with the names of Garibaldi and Mazzini;
France--the War, the Commune, and the Republic; Spain--the War, the
Republic and Castelar, the failure. Looking at this passport with its
covering of names and dates legible and illegible, I realise to the
full how little I know, and how feebly I am able to portray the great
events of my father's life; to say that I do my best seems almost a
mockery when we know that this "best" is so poor and so fragmentary.
While he was at Naples in 1861, Mr Bradlaugh was diligently watched by
the police, and his bedroom at the hotel was frequently overhauled.
For instance, an English book he was reading, and marking with his
pencil as he read, disappeared for a day or so, and on its return bore
traces--to the keen eye of its owner at least--of having been carefully
examined.
A story, which I have slightly amended from Mr Headingley's
biography,[45] will give some idea as to how closely he was observed
and what risks he ran.
[Footnote 45: Biography of Charles Bradlaugh, by A. S. Headingley, p.
62.]
The police, as I have said, were soon put on the alert when Mr
Bradlaugh arrived in Italy, and evidently kept a keen watch over his
every movement. Thus it was ascertained that while at Naples, a few
days after Bomba's fall, he had received a packet of political letters.
It has been said that walls have ears. In this case they evidently
possessed eyes.
He was in the room of his hotel, alone, and, as he thought, safe from
all observation. A friend then entered, and without any conversation
of a nature that could be overheard, gave him the packet which he had
volunteered to take over to England with him. Though as a rule not
devoid of prudence, he so little suspected any danger on this occasion
that he took no special precaution. He left Naples in a steamboat
sailing under the flag of the two Sicilies, and all went smoothly,
excepting the ship, till they reached Civitâ Vecchia. Here, to the
surprise, if not to the alarm, of the passengers, a boat-load of Papal
gendarmes came on board. Even at this moment Mr Bradlaugh was not yet
on his guard, and had the gendarmes at once made for his portmanteau,
they might possibly have seized the despatches.
The sub-officer preferred, however, resorting to what he doubtless
considered a very clever stratagem. He politely inquired for Mr
Bradlaugh, whom he discovered with so little difficulty that it is
probable he knew perfectly well the principal characteristics of his
general appearance. With much politeness, this officer informed him
that the British Consul wished to see him on shore. This at once put
my father on his guard. If he went on shore he would be on Roman soil,
subject to the Papal laws, and there was no guarantee for his safety.
On the other hand, he did not know the English Consul, and had no
business with him. Evidently this was but a mere trap, so Mr Bradlaugh,
with equal politeness, refused to land.
The officer, joined by the full force of the Papal gendarmes, proceeded
this time with less ceremony. They ordered him to show his luggage, and
evidently knew that it contained the secret dispatches. My father now
understood that he had been betrayed. Yet no one at Naples could have
seen him when he received the letters, and the walls alone could have
seen the transactions, unless a hole had been made through them, and a
watch kept on all his actions. This, in fact, is the only explanation
that can be given of the circumstance.
In answer to the demand for his luggage, Mr Bradlaugh at once produced
his English passport, and assumed that this would suffice to shield
him from further annoyance. The document was, however, treated with
the profoundest contempt, and the Papal police now prepared to break
open the portmanteau. In vain Mr Bradlaugh protested that he was under
the flag of the two Sicilies, that he was not under nor subject to the
Papal laws; the Papal gendarmes were undeterred by any such arguments.
The position was becoming desperate, and Mr Bradlaugh found himself
terribly outnumbered; but he had learned the value of coolness,
determination, and audacity.
Without any more argument, he set himself against his portmanteau, drew
a heavy six-chambered naval revolver from his coat pocket, cocked,
and aimed at the nearest Papal gendarme. He then simply and quietly
promised to blow out the brains of the first individual who attempted
to touch his luggage. In spite of this threat matters might have gone
badly with him, for he was surrounded by foes, and there was the danger
of an attack from behind. But at this juncture an American, who had
been watching the whole incident with considerable interest, was so
delighted at the "Britisher's pluck" that he suddenly snatched up a
chair, and springing forward, took up a firm stand back to back with
the Englishman, crying, while waving the chair about with fearful
energy: "I guess I'll see fair play. You look after those in front,
I'll attend to those behind!"
This turn of events somewhat disconcerted the Papal gendarmes. They did
not like the look of Mr Bradlaugh's formidable weapon, and the American
had destroyed all chance of seizing him by surprise from behind. They
hesitated for some time how to proceed. At last they resolved to put
the responsibility on others, and go on shore for further instructions.
The moment they had left the ship Mr Bradlaugh employed this reprieve
in bringing all the pressure possible to bear upon the captain, who
was, after some trouble, persuaded to put on steam and sail out to sea
before the gendarmes had time to return. A few days later my father
reached London in safety, and had the satisfaction of delivering the
letters.
Another story told in Mr Headingley's book[46] is very amusing; and
although it has no bearing upon Mr Bradlaugh's political work, yet
shows his resourcefulness and coolness in emergency.
[Footnote 46: Page 103.]
"His experience with the Papal gendarmes had taught him the advantage
of carrying a revolver when travelling in Italy, though this, it
appears, was strictly against the Italian law, and on one occasion
nearly resulted in serious consequences. The diligence in which
Bradlaugh was travelling [between, as he often said with a wry face,
two fat priests smelling strongly of garlic] from Nunziatella to
Civitâ Vecchia had been entirely cleared out on the previous evening
by a band of brigands. Bradlaugh consequently put his revolver in the
pocket of the diligence door, where he thought it would be more readily
accessible in case of attack. When, however, they stopped at Montalbo
for the examination of the luggage and passports, the police discovered
the revolver and were about to confiscate it. Bradlaugh at once tried
to snatch the weapon back, and got hold of it by the barrel, while
the policeman held tight to the butt--by far the safest side. In this
position a fierce discussion ensued, Bradlaugh expostulating that so
long as the Government were unable to protect travellers from brigands
they should not object to persons who sought to defend themselves.
This argument only drew reinforcements to the policeman's assistance,
and Bradlaugh was seized and held tightly on all sides. Finally,
Bradlaugh urged that it was his duty to the Life Assurance Company
where he had insured himself to carry weapons, and protect his life
by every possible means. This novel argument produced an unexpected
and profound impression, particularly when he informed them that he
was connected with the Sovereign and Midland Assurance Companies. The
police respectfully and with minute care noted these names down. What
they thought they meant Bradlaugh has never been able to explain; but
they at once let him loose, and he triumphantly walked away, carrying
with him his cherished revolver."