PLATFORM WORK, 1860-1861.
On the third Monday in May 1860 Mr Bradlaugh commenced his second
debate with the Rev. Brewin Grant, which was to be continued over
four successive Mondays. The St George's Hall, Bradford, capable
of holding 4000 persons, was taken for the discussion, and people
attended from all the surrounding districts, and some even came in from
the adjoining county of Lancashire. So much has been said as to the
relative bearing and ability of these unlike men, to the disparagement
of Mr Bradlaugh, that it will come as a surprise to many to learn that
Mr Grant's language and conduct during this debate were condemned in
the most unqualified terms by persons altogether unfriendly to his
antagonist.[47]
[Footnote 47: The _Leeds Times_, in a very unfriendly notice of the
second night's debate at Bradford, said: "Mr Grant had declared there
would be such fun, and ... he should exhibit the characters of some
notorious infidels such as Paine, Carlile, Southwell, and others down
to the last 'mushroom,' 'Iconoclast' himself, and prove from them that
infidelity is the fruitful source of immorality and crime. All this he
did in his opening half-hour's address, but where could anything like
'fun' be found in it all? ... Mr Grant in foisting such matter upon his
audience was shirking the great points of the discussion.... Mr Grant
is anything but a calm and dispassionate disputant, and his indulgence
in sarcasm even when unprovoked is ill calculated to check a tendency
to personalities on the part of opponents, or to lead to the impartial
investigation of the truth."
The _Bradford Review_ had a short article on the four nights'
discussion, and, speaking of the use of personalities, said: "Here we
must say, justice obliges us to say that Mr Grant was the first and
by far the greater offender in this direction. The language would not
have been tolerated in any society. It was an outrage upon the ordinary
proprieties and decencies of life."
The _Bradford Advertiser_ was expressly hostile to Mr Bradlaugh, but
in reviewing the four nights' debate also remarked: "We feel bound to
concede that 'Iconoclast' acted with a dignity which contrasted very
favourably as compared with Mr Grant.... We are glad the course is at
an end: we never attended a discussion where so little gentlemanly
conduct was exhibited, or so much said that was vile and unworthy,
especially from one professing to be a preacher and a practiser of
Christ's teachings."
A letter in my possession, written to a friend by one of the audience
immediately after the second night, gives a private view of the debate.
He writes: "The debate was very hot last night; the excitement was
great. Mr Grant's friends were disgusted with his conduct. At one
time, when Mr Bradlaugh was speaking, Mr Grant put out his tongue
at Mr Bradlaugh, and the audience cried 'Shame' to Mr Grant for his
conduct."]
In the fourth night of the debate, Mr Grant, harping on the alleged
immoralities of Paine and Carlile, twitted his antagonist with calling
him "my friend." When the time came for my father to reply, he rose,
evidently in a white heat of anger, to defend these two great dead men
from their living calumniator. His speech produced such an effect, not
only upon the audience, but upon Mr Grant, that the latter grew quite
uneasy under his words and under his gaze; he asked "Iconoclast" to
look at the audience and not at him. Mr Bradlaugh replied: "I will
take it that you are, as indeed you ought to be, ashamed to look an
earnest man in the face, and I will look at you no more. Mr Grant
complains that I have called him 'my friend.' It is true, in debate I
have accustomed myself to wish all men my friends, and to greet them
as friends if possible. The habit, like a garment, fits me, and I have
in this discussion used the phrase 'my friend;' but, believe me, I did
not mean it. Friendship with you would be a sore disgrace and little
honour."
A verbatim report was taken of this debate; but when the MS. of his
speeches was sent the Rev. Brewin Grant for approval, he refused to
return it, and thus the debate was never published.
Another person who came forward to champion Christianity against
"Infidels" generally, and Mr Bradlaugh in particular, was the Rev.
Dr Brindley. This gentleman, well known as a confirmed drunkard and
a bankrupt, was yet announced as the "Champion of Christianity, the
well-known controversialist against Mr Robert Owen, and the Socialists,
the Mormons, and the Secularists." A four nights' debate was arranged
to take place at Oldham in June in the Working Men's Hall.
The meagre reports show nothing of any interest beyond the fact that on
each evening there were enormous audiences. Mr Bradlaugh had another
four nights' debate with Dr Brindley at Norwich a few months later,
but this did not appear to be worth reporting at all. Dr Brindley was
not by any means so clever as Mr Grant, nor did he use quite such
scandalous language upon the public platform and to his adversary's
face, although, if rumour did not belie him, he was more unrestrained
both as to matter and manner when relieved of his antagonist's
presence.[48] One thing at least he and Mr Grant had in common--an
overwhelming antagonism to Mr Bradlangh. This feeling led each man
into continuous hostile acts, overt or covert, each according to his
temperament and opportunity. Dr Brindley's rage amounted to fever heat
when Mr Bradlaugh became candidate for Northampton, and in that town
he frantically used every endeavour to hinder his return. When Mr
Bradlaugh determined to go to America in 1873, Dr Brindley's feelings
quite overpowered him, and he rushed after his enemy to New York, with,
I suppose, some sort of idea of hunting down the wicked Atheist, though
really, looking back on the past, it is difficult to see that the poor
creature could have had any clear ideas as to what he was going to do
to Mr Bradlaugh when he reached America. He must have been carried
away by some sort of wild frenzy, which amounted to insanity. My
father's first lecture upon the Republican Movement in England, at the
Steinway Hall, New York, proved to be an immense success, and at its
close Dr Brindley offered some opposition. By his language he aroused
such a storm of hisses and uproar, that Mr Bradlaugh was obliged to
interpose on his behalf, which he did by appealing to the audience
"to let the gentleman who represents the aristocracy and the Church
of England go on." This convulsed the assembly, who--in laughter and
amusement--consented to hear the rev. gentleman out. Four days later Dr
Brindley publicly answered Mr Bradlaugh at the Cooper Institute, and
the _Germantown Chronicle_ (Philadelphia) gives the following amusing
account of the proceedings:--
[Footnote 48: This, I gather, did not apply to his attitude to Mr
Bradlaugh only.]
"Brindley's purpose in life is to go for Bradlaugh hammer and tongs,
and he has actually paid his way out here, cabin passage, to hunt up
and show up and finally shut up the six foot leader of the English
Radicals. He is determined to keep on after Bradlaugh hot foot, and
wherever that eminent individual leaves a trace of his presence, there
will the indefatigable Brindley be, with his orthodox whitewash brush,
to wipe out the name and memory of his Freethinking countryman. Dr
Brindley is an interesting orator, and the most simple-minded Briton
that has presented himself at the Cooper Institute for some time. His
voice is as funny as a Punch and Judy's, and when the audience of
last night roared with laughter, it was impossible to tell whether
it was at what Brindley had said, or Brindley's method and voice in
saying it. Some of the audience were beery, and disposed to ask beery
questions. The speaker said England was full of wealth, and that
labour was never so well paid. Everybody was happy, and Bradlaugh was
an incendiary, a story-teller, a nuisance, who would make a rumpus
and make everybody miserable, even in the Garden of Eden. 'Were you
ever in a casual ward?' asked a smudgy fellow in the back of the hall.
'No,' answered the bold Brindley, 'but if you were there now it would
save the police trouble.' And so he replied to other impertinent
questions, until he made the impression that he was not quite such a
fool as he looked. He said Bradlaugh was an Atheist, whose belief is
that 'brain power is the only soul in man,' and that as he was played
out in England he had come over here to air his theories, and pick
up pennies. 'You know where Cheshire is?' said Brindley, 'Cheshire,
where the cheese is made,' and Brindley was about to tell a story on
this head, when a donkey at the back end of the hall cried out, 'There
ain't no cheese made there now. It's all done in Duchess county.'
No telling what a good thing this fellow spoiled by his remark.
Bradlaugh, anyhow, was scalped and vivisected, and Brindley took his
tomahawk and himself away soon after."
But the farce was to end in a tragedy. Overcome by chagrin and
mortification, Dr Brindley died within a month of his appearance on the
Steinway Hall platform. He died in New York in poverty and neglect,
and was buried in a pauper's grave. The _Chicago Times_, alluding to
the terms of Mr Bradlaugh's appeal to the New York audience to give Dr
Brindley a hearing, said that the rev. gentleman was "slain by satire."
"Since Keats, according to Byron, was snuffed out by a single article,
there has been no parallel except this of a human creature snuffed out
by a single sentence."
* * * * *
Following quickly upon the heels of the debate at Oldham with Dr
Brindley came one with the Rev. Joseph Baylee, D.D., Principal of St
Aidan's College, Birkenhead. Dr Baylee himself proposed the conditions
on which alone he would consent to discuss. These conditions threw the
entire trouble and expense of the three nights' discussion upon Mr
Bradlaugh's committee. They provided that Dr Baylee and his friends
might open and conclude the proceedings with prayer, and they also
provided that the debate should consist of questions and categorical
answers with no speeches whatever on either side. Those who recall
Mr Bradlaugh's marvellous rapidity of thought, and the way in which
he could instantly grasp and reason out a position, will see that
this condition would certainly be no disadvantage to my father. The
audiences, as usual, crowded the hall, and listened to both speakers
with the utmost attention. This discussion, which was reported at
length and published in pamphlet form,[49] has had a very wide
circulation. It is in many respects a remarkable debate; but as it is
easily obtainable, I will leave it to speak for itself, more especially
as, from its peculiar form of question and answer, it does not lend
itself conveniently to quotation.
[Footnote 49: God, Man, and the Bible. Three nights' discussion with
the Rev. Dr Baylee.]
Were it possible it would be tedious to follow Mr Bradlaugh through
the hundreds of lectures which he delivered during these ten years,
but it will be interesting, and will give us a clearer idea of the
turmoil and work of his life, to note some of the difficulties he had
to meet thirty or so years ago. Nowadays, as soon as Parliament rises
nearly every member of the House of Commons thinks himself called
upon to go and air his views throughout the length and breadth of the
country; then, public speaking was much more uncommon, and Freethought
lectures in especial were few and far between. To-day, almost every
town of any size has its own Freethought speakers, and speakers come
to it with more or less frequency from adjoining districts and from
London. Little difficulties create great stir and excitement now: then,
great difficulties came almost as a matter of course. But even when
difficulties were frequent and not altogether unexpected, that did not
make them the easier to endure. A brick-bat which reaches its aim hurts
just as much whether it is one out of many thrown or just one thrown by
itself.
At Wigan, in October 1860, my father went to deliver two lectures in
the Commercial Hall. The conduct of the people in this town was so
disgraceful, that he said in bitter jest that if he did much more of
this "extended propaganda" he should require to be insured against
accident to life and limb.
"I may be wrong," he wrote,[50] "but I shall never be convinced of
my error by a mob of true believers yelling at my heels like mad
dogs, under the leadership of a pious rector's trusty subordinate, or
hammering at the door of my lecture room under the direction of an
infuriated Church parson. I object that in the nineteenth century it
is hardly to be tolerated that a bigot priest shall use his influence
with the proprietor of the hotel where I am staying, in order to 'get
that devil kicked out into the street' after half-past ten at night. I
do not admit the right of a rich Church dignitary's secretary to avoid
the payment of his threepence at the door by jumping through a window,
especially when I or my friends have to pay for the broken glass and
sash frame. True, all these things and worse happened at Wigan."
[Footnote 50: _National Reformer_, October 20, 1860.]
There had been no Freethought lectures in Wigan for upwards of twenty
years; the clergy had had it all their own way there undisturbed. They
determined to oppose the wicked Iconoclast in every way, and began by
engaging the largest hall available and advertising the same subjects
as those announced for the Freethought platform. Had they contented
themselves with this form of opposition, all would have been well, but
their zeal outran discretion, carrying with it their manners and all
appearance of decency and decorum. My father, continuing his account of
this affair, said--
"Being unknown in Wigan, except by hearsay, I expected therefore but
a moderate audience. I was in this respect agreeably disappointed.
The hall was inconveniently crowded, and many remained outside in the
square, unable to obtain admittance. No friend was known to me who
could or would officiate as chairman, and I therefore appealed to
the meeting to elect their own president. No response being made to
this, I intimated my intention of proceeding without one. This the
Christians did not seem to relish, and therefore elected a gentleman
named [the Rev. T.] Dalton to the chair, who was very tolerable,
except that he had eccentric views of a chairman's duty, and slightly
shortened my time, while he also took a few minutes every now and then
for himself to refute my objections to the Bible."
With the exception of the excitable and somewhat unmannerly behaviour
of some of the clergymen present, this meeting passed off without
any serious disturbance, and was not unfairly reported by the _Wigan
Observer_, which described "Mr Iconoclast" as "a well-made and
healthy looking man, apparently not more than thirty years of age.
He possesses great fluency of speech, and is evidently well posted up
in the subject of his addresses. Of assurance he has no lack; and we
scarcely think it would be possible to put a question to him to which
he had not an answer ready--good, bad, or indifferent."
By the following evening the temper of the Wiganites had become--what
shall I say? More Christian? Mr Bradlaugh, when he arrived at the hall,
"found it crowded to excess, and in addition many hundreds outside
unable to gain admittance. My name," he says, "was the subject of loud
and hostile comment, several pious Christians in choice Billingsgate
intimating that they would teach me a lesson. As on the previous
evening, I requested the religious body to elect a chairman, and Mr
Thomas Stuart was voted to the chair. Of this gentleman I must say
that he was courteous, generous, and manly, and by his kindly conduct
compelled my respect and admiration. Previous to my lecture the
majority of those present hooted and yelled with a vigour which, if it
betokened healthy lungs, did not vouch so well for a healthy brain; and
I commenced my address amidst a terrific din. Each window was besieged,
and panes of glass were dashed out in more reckless wantonness, while
at the same time a constant hammering was kept up at the main door.
As this showed no prospect of cessation, I went myself to the door,
and, to my disgust, found that the disturbance was being fostered and
encouraged by a clergyman[51] of the Church of England, who wished to
gain admittance. I told him loss of life might follow any attempt to
enter the room in its present overcrowded state. His answer was that
he knew there was plenty of room, and would come in. To prevent worse
strife I admitted him, and by dint of main strength and liberal use of
my right arm repelled the others, closed the doors, and returned to
the platform. I had, however, at the doors received one blow in the
ribs, which, coupled with the extraordinary exertions required to keep
the meeting in check, fairly tired me out in about an hour. Several
times, when any crash betokened a new breach in either door or window,
the whole of the audience toward the end of the room jumped up, and
I had literally to keep them down by dint of energetic lung power.
Towards the conclusion of the lecture, the secretary of the rector
forced his way bodily through a window, and I confess I felt a strong
inclination to go to that end of the room and pitch him back through
the same aperture. If he had intended a riot, he could not have acted
more riotously. Some limestone was thrown in at another window, and a
little water was poured through the ventilators by some persons who had
gained possession of the roof. This caused some merriment, which turned
to alarm when an arm and hand waving a dirty rag appeared through a
little hole in the centre of the ceiling. One man in a wideawake then
jumped upon one of the forms, and excitedly shouted to me, 'See, the
devil has come for you!' After the lecture, I received in the confusion
several blows, but none of importance. When I quitted the building one
well-dressed man asked me, 'Do you not expect God to strike you dead,
and don't you deserve that the people should serve you out for your
blasphemy?' Two spat in my face."
[Footnote 51: The Rev. W. T. Whitehead.]
Being concerned for the fate of the hotel if he carried back with
him the excited crowds which dogged his heels, Mr Bradlaugh's first
impulse was to avoid it; but remembering that he had left all his money
there, he contrived to escape his pursuers, and reached the hotel
unaccompanied, except by one friend. Notwithstanding that there was not
"the slightest disturbance at the hotel, the landlady wished me at once
to leave the house, I appealed to her hospitality in vain. I next stood
on my legal rights, went to my bedroom, locked the door, retired to
bed, and tried to dream that Wigan was a model Agapemone."
Before the dispersal of the meeting, and while the Rev. W. T. Whitehead
was asking the audience to teach Mr Bradlaugh a lesson which should
prevent him coming again, whether intentionally or not, the gas was
turned off, so that the hundreds of persons in the room, already
in confusion, were placed in great danger of losing their lives.
Fortunately, the gas was relighted before any serious consequences had
resulted.
About a month later Mr Bradlaugh was again speaking at Wigan. The Mayor
had threatened to lock him up, but, as might be expected, the threat
was an empty one. The _Wigan Examiner_ entreated the public not to
attend the lectures, but without result. On the first evening a form
was set aside for the accommodation of the clergy, but it remained
vacant. After the meeting (which had been a fairly orderly one) Mr
Bradlaugh relates how he was followed to his lodgings "by a mob who
had not been present at the lecture, and who yelled and shouted in real
collier fashion. The _Examiner_ says they intended to 'purr' me.[52] An
invitation on my part to any two of them to settle the matter with me
in approved pugilistic fashion produced a temporary lull, under cover
of which shelter was gained from the storm of hooting and howling which
soon broke out anew with redoubled vigour. On the second evening the
Christian mob outside were even more discourteous." Some friends[53]
who had offered Mr Bradlaugh the hospitality of their roof, so that he
might not again suffer the treatment he had received at the Victoria
Hotel on the former occasion, were threatened and annoyed in a most
disgraceful manner, besides being hissed and hooted on entering the
lecture hall. Stones were thrown at Mr Bradlaugh and Mr John Watts
as they went in, but during the lecture all was orderly. At the end,
however, Mr Hutchings, a Nonconformist and the sub-editor of the
_Examiner_, amidst considerable noise and confusion, entered with the
Rev. J. Davis and other friends, to contradict what Mr Bradlaugh had
said on the previous night. After some animated discussion, it was
arranged that a set two nights' debate should be held between them. Mr
Bradlaugh then left the hall, and was immediately surrounded by a noisy
crew.
[Footnote 52: C. Bradlaugh in the _National Reformer_ for December 1st,
1860.]
[Footnote 53: Mr and Mrs Johnson of Wigan.]
"I walked slowly home," said my father. "At last, in a narrow court,
one fellow kicked me in the back part of my thigh. I turned quickly
round, and invited an attempt at repetition, promising prepayment
in a good knock-down for the kicker; and the whole pack of yelping
religionists turned tail. Men and women turned out of their houses
half-dressed, and when the name 'Iconoclast' passed from one to
the other, the adjectives attached to it sufficiently proved that
humanising influences were sorely needed to soften the conversational
exuberance of the natives of Wigan."
Those who were not sufficiently brave to come near enough to give
a kick at Mr Bradlaugh's back hurled bricks at him, but cowardice
unnerved them and prevented them from taking a good aim, so that
although his hat was damaged, he himself was unhurt. Mr and Mrs Johnson
courageously insisted upon walking by his side, and the followers
of the meek and lowly Jesus thought it no shame to throw stones at a
woman: here, their victim being weaker, their courage was accordingly
greater and their aim straighter. But if the people acted so merely
from ignorance and narrowness, it is not so easy to explain the
malevolent attitude of certain local journals to my father. Week after
week, the _Wigan Examiner_ persisted in the attack, being especially
virulent in its onslaught upon his personal character. It reprinted Mr
Packer's mendacious letter to Brewin Grant, and the following extract
prefacing the letter will serve to show how great was the desire of the
editor to keep the commandments of his Deity, and not to bear false
witness:--
"Born in the classic region of Bethnal Green, he [Mr Bradlaugh]
devoted his juvenile faculties to the advocacy of teetotalism, but
finding that this theme did not afford sufficient scope for his
genius, he formed (_sic_) himself to a select band of reformers who
met in an upper room or garret in the neighbourhood. Being a fluent
speaker, he was soon exalted to the dignity of an apostle in his new
vocation, and finding the work in every respect much more congenial
to his mind than weaving, he broke loose from all restraint, and went
into the new business with energy."
The debate between Mr Hutchings and Mr Bradlaugh was finally arranged
for the 4th and 5th February (1861). On his way to the hall on the
first evening, my father received "one evidence of Christianity in
the shape of a bag of flour;" this was, of course, intended to soil
his clothes, but "fortunately it was flung with too great violence,
and after crushing the side of another new hat from Mr Hipwell,[54]
covered the pavement instead of myself. I shall need a special fund
for hats," wrote Mr Bradlaugh, "if I visit Wigan often." On his return
from the debate, although he was followed by a large crowd of men and
boys, all hooting was quickly suppressed, and was, in fact, attempted
only by a very few. On his first visit to Wigan he had "retired to
rest, not only without friends to bid me good-night, but with many a
score of loud-tongued, rough lads and men bidding me, in phraseology
startling and effective, everything but so kindly a farewell;"[55]
but during the three months which had elapsed since Mr Bradlaugh's
earliest visit to this Lancashire mining town public feeling had
considerably changed and modified; and in the evening, the house where
he was staying "was crowded out," he tells us, "with rough but honest
earnest men and women, who insisted, one and all, in gripping my hand
in friendliness, and wishing me good speed in my work. The change was
so great that a tear mounted to my eye despite myself." His was always
the same sensitive nature; he was ever moved to the heart by a sign
of true sympathy or real affection. Persecution found him stern and
unflinching, hypocrisy found him severe and unforgiving, but kindness
or affection, instantly touched the fountain of his gratitude and his
tenderness.
[Footnote 54: A Freethinking hatter of Bradford.]
[Footnote 55: C. Bradlaugh in _National Reformer_, February 16, 1861.]
Out of this debate, which contains nothing particularly noteworthy,[56]
arose a lawsuit. The reporter, a person named Stephenson M. Struthers,
after having sold "the transcript" to Mr Bradlaugh at 8d. per folio,
sold a second copy of his notes to Mr William Heaton, on behalf of Mr
Hutchings' Committee, for 3 guineas. This my father did not discover
until he had used some of the copy, and paid Struthers £5 on account.
He then refused to pay the balance (£11, 16s.), and for this the
shorthand-writer sued him. Mr Bradlaugh expressed his willingness to
pay for the labour involved in making a copy; but he objected to pay
for the _sole_ copy when he had not received that for which he had
contracted. The suit came on in the Wigan County Court, before J. S. T.
Greene, Esq., on April 11th (1861). After the case for the plaintiff
was closed, Mr Bradlaugh entered the witness-box to be sworn--at that
time the only form under which he could give evidence. Mr Mayhew (for
the plaintiff), after some preamble as to not desiring to be offensive,
asked "with regret" if Mr Bradlaugh believed "in the religious
obligations of an oath?" Mr Bradlaugh objected to answer any question
until he was sworn. The Judge would not allow the objection; and after
a considerable interchange of opinion and question and answer between
the Judge and Mr Bradlaugh, in which the latter explicitly stated his
readiness to be sworn, he asked to be allowed to affirm. This the Judge
refused to permit. And this is how the episode ended:--
[Footnote 56: The following short passage from this debate may serve as
an example of the incisive eloquence of which my father was capable at
the age of eight-and-twenty:--
"Men say, 'I believe.' Believe in what? 'I believe' is the prostration
of the intellect before the unknown--not an exertion of the intellect
to grasp the knowable. Men who have taught in Sunday Schools,
and children who have been taught there, men worshipping in our
churches--men following men in this way have their ideas made for them,
fitted on to them like their clothes; and, like the parrot in its
gilded cage, they say 'I believe,' because they have been taught to say
it, and not because they have a vital faith when they do say it."]
The JUDGE: Only give me a direct answer.
Mr BRADLAUGH: I am not answering your question at all. I have
objected on two grounds, both of which your Honour has overruled, that
I am not bound to answer the question.
The JUDGE: If you put it in that way, I should be sorry to
exercise any power that I believe I possess according to law. You
won't answer the question?
Mr BRADLAUGH: I object that I am not bound to answer any
question that will criminate myself.
The JUDGE: You will not answer my question. Do you believe in
the existence of a supreme God?
Mr BRADLAUGH: I object that the answer, if in the negative,
would subject me to a criminal prosecution.
The JUDGE: Do you believe in a state of future rewards and
punishments?
Mr BRADLAUGH: I object that--
The JUDGE: Then I shall not permit you to give evidence at
all; and I think you escape very well in not being sent to gaol.
The Judge, having thus taken advantage of his magisterial position to
insult a defenceless man as well as to refuse his evidence, proceeded
with consummate injustice to sum it up as an "undefended case," and
gave a verdict for the plaintiff for the full amount. After the Case
was over, Mr William Heaton wrote to Mr Bradlaugh denying a material
point in Mr Struthers' sworn evidence as to what had occurred between
them. Thus did the laws of Christian England treat an Atheist as
outlaw, and in the name of justice deal out injustice in favour of a
man who, as his fellow Christian stated, had spoken falsely under his
oath in the witness-box.
Mr Hutchings himself felt the disgrace of this so keenly that he wrote
expressing his desire to co-operate in a public movement in Wigan in
favour of Sir John Trelawny's Affirmation Bill. "I do feel strongly,"
he said, "that you were most wrongfully and iniquitously deprived of
the opportunity of defending your cause, and this I feel the more
strongly that it was done in strict conformity with English law."
Two other polemical encounters arose directly out of the Wigan
lectures; these were both held with the Rev. Woodville Woodman, a
Swedenborgian divine. The first, at Wigan, upon the "Existence of God,"
continued over four nights; the second, upon the "Divine Revelation
of the Bible," also a four nights' debate, was held at Ashton in the
autumn of the same year.
Mr Bradlaugh held quite a number of theological discussions about
this time. In addition to those I have already mentioned with the
Rev. Brewin Grant, Dr Brindley, Dr Baylee, Mr Hutchings, and the Rev.
Woodville Woodman, a controversial correspondence between himself and
the Rev. Thomas Lawson, a Baptist minister of Bacup, arose out of some
lectures delivered by Mr Bradlaugh in Newchurch in October 1860. It was
originally intended to hold a set debate upon the subject "Has Man a
Soul?" but no hall could be obtained in Bacup for the purposes of the
discussion. The correspondence was therefore published in the _National
Reformer_ during the spring of the following year. Then a debate upon
the credibility of the Gospels was arranged between Mr Bradlaugh and
the Rev. J. H. Rutherford, and was held in Liverpool in October 1860;
another upon "What does the Bible teach about God?" was held with Mr
Mackie in Warrington in April 1861; and a few months later my father
also debated for two nights at Birmingham with Mr Robert Mahalm, a
representative of the Irish Church Mission in that town.
In the middle of July (1860) he was lecturing for the first time in
Norwich. St Andrew's Hall was taken, and the proceeds of the lecture
were to go to Garibaldi; but this was one of the places where religious
prejudice was strong, and where therefore the receipts did not equal
the expenditure. On the second evening Mr Bradlaugh delivered an
open-air address at Chapel Field, when "yells, hisses, abuse, a
little mud, and a few stones formed the chorus and finale of the
entertainment." Nothing daunted, in September he went to Norwich again,
and the orderly behaviour of his audience formed a marked contrast to
their previous conduct. By November, when he once more visited Norwich,
the Freethinkers there had found themselves strong enough to hire a
commodious chapel for the winter months, substituting a piano for the
communion table. From Norwich his steps turned naturally to Yarmouth,
where he was much amused by hearing the town crier follow up his "Oyez!
Oyez!" by the announcement that "the cel-e-bra-ted I-con-o-clast" had
arrived.
Only a few weeks elapsed before Mr Bradlaugh again went to Norwich and
Yarmouth. He went the week immediately before Christmas, and had an
eight hours' journey to get there, with the driving snow coming through
"the Eastern Counties Railway Company's patent [3rd class] ventilating
carriages," which seemed constructed with the express object of making
"perfectly clear to the unfortunate passengers the criminality of their
poverty." This, his fourth visit to Norwich, was a great success, and
the lectures at Yarmouth were also more favourably listened to. By
January he found his audiences increasing at Norwich, and the interest
perceptibly growing, but at Yarmouth he received a check. There had
been much commotion in the local official circles at the repeated
visits of the Atheist lecturer, and pressure was used on all sides, so
that only a small sale room in a back street could be hired for the
lectures. The room was soon overcrowded; Mr Bradlaugh had to be his own
chairman, and on going home walked to the music of yells and hootings.
This display of intolerance roused up some of the more thoughtful
inhabitants, and the theatre was obtained for the following night,
when, despite the necessarily brief notice, a large audience--including
many ladies--assembled to hear the lecture. A Mr Fletcher was elected
to the chair, the proceedings were orderly throughout, and Mr Bradlaugh
walked home unmolested.
The matter, however, was not to end here. Both the Yarmouth clergy (or
at least _one_ Yarmouth clergyman, the Rev. E. Neville) and magistrates
expressed their determination that the lectures must be put down,
and so Mr Bradlaugh received information that proceedings were to be
taken against him for blasphemy. The _Norfolk News_ and _Yarmouth
Independent_ for March 23rd reported a meeting of magistrates at which
the subject of "Iconoclast's" visits was under discussion, the letting
of the theatre to him was severely commented upon, and the persons
responsible for the letting held up to public odium. Not one of the
nine or ten magistrates present could be found to say a word on behalf
of the Atheist; and the speeches of the Mayor, Mr S. Nightingale, and
one other of the magistrates, Mr Hammond, from which I quote, are
typical of the attitude of the rest:--
"He [the Mayor] had attended the bench that morning (Tuesday, March
19) because he had observed bills circulated in the town setting forth
that 'that wretched man calling himself "Iconoclast"'[57] intended to
give lectures again at the theatre. He really thought 'Iconoclast' was
doing a great deal of mischief in the minds of the younger part of the
community, and he thought they ought to take some steps to prevent
it. He some time ago called the attention of their clerk to the
subject, who had proceeded to look into the law of the case. It seemed
monstrous to him that a man should be allowed to utter blasphemy as
'Iconoclast' was doing and for them not to interfere.... He wished the
magistrates to take some steps for putting a stop to these lectures."
[Footnote 57: The Mayor's exact words.]
The Mayor found an ardent supporter in Mr Hammond, who
"thought the thanks of the town were due to His Worship for bringing
the subject before the notice of the bench. He had thought of it
yesterday himself, and spoken to one or two of the magistrates on
the matter, and he also intended to call on the Mayor about it, had
he not gone into it. It was evident that Mr Sidney [the lessee of
the theatre]--at least he (Mr Hammond) thought--could not know what
he was letting the theatre for. He (Mr Hammond) was part proprietor
of the theatre himself; but rather than take any part of the profits
arising out of such a purpose, he would sooner see it shut up for
twenty years. If no other magistrate would do it, he would move that
Mr Sidney be refused his licence next year, should these diabolical
practices be allowed at the theatre. He perceived from the large
bill issued that the front boxes were to be 6d., the upper boxes
4d., the pit 3d., and the gallery 2d.; and it must be evident to the
magistrates that the thing must be disreputable indeed to have a place
like the theatre let in that way--to have the public mind poisoned
by a repetition of these lectures, perhaps by-and-by at 2d. each, as
an inducement to lead the young away that they might hear the Holy
Scriptures set at nought. He felt very sensitive on the point, and so
far as his humble assistance went, he would give it to put a stop to
these nefarious practices. He felt personally obliged to the Mayor
for bringing forward the subject that morning, and he hoped every
magistrate on the bench would lend a helping hand towards putting a
stop to the nuisance. (Applause.)"
At the conclusion of the proceedings, Mr Nightingale (the
Mayor) observed "that he felt determined to put a stop to these
exhibitions."[58]
[Footnote 58: The _Norfolk News_ prefaces its account by saying: "For
some months past considerable excitement has been caused amongst the
religious community of the town by the delivery of lectures tending to
subvert the fundamental principles of Christianity by a Freethinker
under the _soubriquet_ of 'Iconoclast.' We have attended none of
these lectures ourselves, but, judging from what we have heard, we
should think that 'Iconoclast' was a gifted man so far as regards
his elocutionary powers. He has been combated on his own platform,
denounced from various pulpits in the town, and at length a determined
effort seems to have been made to shut him out from all the places in
the town in which a public meeting could be held."]
In a leaderette the local journal commented strongly on the course
proposed by the wise and learned Dogberries; and when Mr Bradlaugh
placarded Yarmouth with an address to the magistrates accepting the
gauntlet thus thrown down, and expressing his resolve to lecture
within their jurisdiction, it spoke of the "spirited reply" which he
had addressed to his would-be persecutors. The upshot of all this was
that my father immediately determined to devote a special week to East
Anglia, commencing with two nights at Yarmouth.
"On my arrival at Yarmouth," he wrote, "I found myself literally
hunted from room to room. The theatre being closed against me, the
Masonic Hall was taken, but the mayor personally waited upon the
proprietor, and the 'screw' being put on I was also deprived of this
room. I was determined not to be beaten, and therefore hired a large
bleaching-ground in which to deliver an open-air address." There were
present about 1000 persons, "including at least one magistrate and
several police officers," and it may be noted as most significant
that the action of the magistrates did not meet with popular favour,
that the meeting concluded with cheers for Mr Bradlaugh and for the
owner of the ground. On the following evening the audience was largely
increased, and numbered at least 5000 persons, who were orderly and
attentive throughout. Outside the meeting there was stone-throwing,
principally by boys. One of the stones struck my mother, who,
identifying the lad who threw it, threatened to give him into custody.
At which the lad answered, "Oh, please, mum, you cannot; the police
have told us to make all the noise, and throw as many stones as we
can." This, we will hope, was a liberal interpretation of the police
instructions, but at least it shows very strongly that the lads
had reason to expect the police to look very leniently upon their
escapades. The magisterial bluster ended in bluster, and the only
result to Yarmouth from a Christian standpoint was a pamphlet against
"Infidelity" written by a Charles Houchen, and whether that can be set
down to the credit of Christianity we must leave it to the followers
of that creed to judge. Mr Houchen said--
"It has been asked what is the real object of Iconoclast going from
place to place, and coming to Yarmouth from time to time, and the
answer has been money, money. Now, I ask the reader what think you,
whoever you be, suppose Iconoclast himself was guaranteed to be better
paid than he now is for travelling from place to place, do you not
think he would turn round?"
To this my father rejoined that "the whole amount of Iconoclast's
receipts from Yarmouth has not equalled his payments for board,
lodging, and printing in that eastern seaport; that he has journeyed
to and fro at his own cost; and that if his object 'has been money,
money,' he has suffered grievous disappointment, and this not because
the audiences have been small, but because of that 'rarity of Christian
charity' which shut him out of theatre and lecture-hall after each had
been duly hired, and prompted policemen to connive at stone-throwing
when directed against an Infidel lecturer."