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people. At Newcastle, a warm-hearted Irish Catholic stepped upon the
platform and gave his earnest thanks "to the orator" for expressing
the sentiments held by all true Irishmen,[112] and the audience from
end to end rose cheering and waving their hats. At Ashton-under-Lyne
in April he spoke to an audience of 5000 persons, and reminded them
that the Irish question might equally be called the English question,
as it affected England as well as Ireland. Previous to this lecture
there were rumours of violence, and threats "against life and limb,"
and the town was in a state of extreme excitement, a strong police
force were mustered, and one magistrate attended the meeting with the
Riot Act ready in his pocket! About a score or so of Orangemen managed
to get into the hall and created considerable disorder at the outset,
but they reckoned without chairman or speaker. The chairman, J. M.
Balieff, Esq., J.P., despite the outcry raised against Mr Bradlaugh
on account of his views on religion, had yet the moral courage to
support him in his political opinions. The Orangemen opened up with a
storm of hisses and groans, which was responded to by the friends of
Ireland with excited cheering. This went on for some minutes, but was
quickly quieted when the chairman resolutely stated that if it were
necessary he should stay there all night, for he was quite determined
that Mr Bradlaugh should state his views. At the conclusion of the
lecture Mr Balieff publicly rebuked the bigotry which, unable to answer
Mr Bradlaugh's political advocacy, assailed him for his speculative
opinions. Amongst other places, my father went to Huddersfield to speak
on the Irish question. My sister and I were in Huddersfield at the
time staying with some friends, and we, of course went to the lecture,
which was held in the theatre on Saturday, the 25th of April. This is
the first lecture of my father's that I distinctly remember. I had
been present at very many before, but of those I have only the vaguest
recollections. The one at Huddersfield stands out as a complete picture
in my memory. A stormy day, followed by a stormy night with strong wind
and rain, had not prevented the earnest Yorkshire folks from coming to
hear "the lad" (as they so often called him), and the theatre was full
of eager, sympathetic faces when we went upon the platform. Mr Woodhead
took the chair, and we, my sister and I, sat a little to the back of
the stage, where I remember we were much troubled by the cold wind
blowing round the "wings." So vivid is the memory that it seems almost
as though I could recall the very words my father uttered, and the
tones of his voice--now earnest, now impassioned, at one time severely
rebuking, at another ardently pleading, or gravely narrating. Or there
was some joke or amusing anecdote, and the audience--who a moment
before had been brushing away their tears openly or surreptitiously,
each according to his temperament--now with one consent burst into
hearty laughter. There was one old man in the front row, who with
ear-trumpet to ear remained eagerly bent forward throughout the whole
lecture, so unwilling was he to lose a single word. I was just ten
years old then, and it seemed a revelation to me; for the first time I
felt and realised something of my father's power over men.
[Footnote 112: _National Reformer_, Feb. 16, 1868.]
In spite of fears entertained for his safety as a suspected man
entering a disturbed country during the suspension of the _Habeas
Corpus_ Act, on the 18th of March Mr Bradlaugh was lecturing in Dublin
under the auspices of the Irish Reform League. It was St Patrick's
day, and "an enthusiastic barrister" whom he knew drove him about in
his carriage. He wrote home that he heard the band play "'God save the
Queen,' and the populace acknowledged it with a mixed sort of hiss and
groan, which I believe is called 'keening.'" The lecture was delivered
at the Mechanics' Institute, the hall was crammed to its utmost
capacity, and lengthy reports of the speech appeared in the _Freeman's
Journal_ and _Dublin Evening Post_. At the conclusion an address was
presented to Mr Bradlaugh as some testimony of Irish appreciation
of his "disinterested and sincere devotion to our country's cause."
The address reads: "We can but offer you our best thanks and warmest
admiration, and tender you the unaffected and sincere love of warm
Irish hearts, thus proving that Irishmen are never insensible to
kindness," etc. By the light of later events, what bitter irony all
this seems! The "sincere love of warm Irish hearts" looked much more
like hate and malice in the years of Mr Bradlaugh's Parliamentary
struggle. However, it was doubtless honest at the moment, and the
greatest enthusiasm prevailed amongst the Dublin audience when the
address was formally read and presented. The proceedings were orderly
and unanimous throughout; nevertheless when the meeting separated they
found the front of the building occupied by a detachment of police
numbering about a hundred men; inspectors in attendance took the names
and addresses of those who had taken any prominent part in the business
of the evening; while the rank and file scrutinised the faces of the
audience. The Dublin correspondent of an Irish Catholic paper published
in London indulged in a tirade of abuse against Mr Bradlaugh, whom he
described as "the hired agent of the English Reform League, the Atheist
Bradlaugh;" but he only aroused a host of defenders, whose defence,
since he was unable to answer, he affected to despise.
When the turn of Elections in 1868 brought Mr Gladstone into power,
Mr Bradlaugh applied at the Treasury for the withdrawal of the
warrant out against General Cluseret for his arrest on the charge
of treason-felony, but this clemency was refused.[113] With the
subsidence of the Fenian agitation and the relief anticipated by the
Disestablishment of the Irish Church there was less and less immediate
need to Ireland for Mr Bradlaugh's activity, and when 1870 ushered
in the Franco-Prussian War, his energies were turned for the time in
another and more instantly pressing direction.
[Footnote 113: Headingley, p. 107.]
CHAPTER XXVI.
NORTHAMPTON, 1868.
There is, I think, not the least doubt that very early in my father's
life he began to nurse dreams of one day playing his part in the
legislature of his country, and indeed it is currently reported in
Northampton that as early as 1859 he spoke to some friends there of
his wish to represent that borough in Parliament. As I have no exact
evidence that Mr Bradlaugh went to the town before that year, I think
the report puts the date a little too early, but in any case I do not
find that the idea took any definite shape in his mind until about the
end of 1865 or early in the following year. In 1867 it is clear that
the possibility of his candidature was realised even by those outside
the circle of his personal friends, for in the spring of that year we
find a sarcastic prognosis of th Previous Next |