You do me too much honour to attribute to me so much influence.
The Chief of the Police then took down a book in which 'Charles Bradlaugh' appeared in good bold characters, with about twenty lines opposite in writing, which, being very small, I could not read. He then said: 'I have orders to arrest you. I must send you to the Sub-Prefect at Boulogne.'"
After being permitted to send a telegram to Versailles, he was sent off to Boulogne in charge of an officer and two men.
When they arrived there at three in the morning, Boulogne was in total darkness, and then they had about a mile to walk through the driving rain before they reached the Sub-Prefecture. Here, except one man on duty, all appeared to be fast asleep, and M. le Sous-Préfet, apprised of Mr Bradlaugh's arrival, telegraphed to the Government for instructions, refusing to take the case until the morning. My father made up a "bed" of all the chairs he could find, and, still in the close custody of his three guardians, he attempted to pass the time in sleep.
"In the morning," he said, "another and more severe interrogation took place, the Sub-Prefect declaring that I had presided at the Sunday Hyde Park meeting in favour of the Commune; that I had lately been on some revolutionary mission in Prussia; and that I had too much influence to be allowed to go to Paris, where I should be a rallying-point for all dangerous men." Mr Bradlaugh telegraphed to M. Favre, at Versailles, asking in what respect his position had altered since ten weeks earlier, when the Charge d'Affaires of France, acting under his orders, had tendered him the formal thanks of the French Government for the services he had rendered France. The only answer from the Government was an urgent and imperative order to quit France by the next packet, and a notice that his description had been sent to every railway station in France, with an order for his arrest in the event of his return.
Some months later, after the fall of the Commune, Mr Bradlaugh once more set out for Paris; he was again arrested at Calais, and this time kept prisoner for nearly three days, but was then released and allowed to proceed on his journey. The Commissaire at Calais showed him the order signed by Jules Favre in the previous April. It was emphatic and unequivocal, and ran thus: "Empechez à M. Bradlaugh d'entrer à Paris à tout prix."[148] This document had apparently never been cancelled, hence Mr Bradlaugh's second arrest. He was never afterwards hindered on his way to the French capital, although, during the Presidency of Monsieur Thiers, his movements while in Paris were carefully watched. At one time the French authorities assumed that he was masquerading under the name of "Lord Campbell," and the late Lord Campbell and Stratheden, who used to visit at the house of one of my father's friends in Paris, was made quite unhappy by having his movements watched by detectives intended for Mr Bradlaugh. The situation was not without its amusing side, for the particular business upon which Lord Campbell was engaged just then was connected with a marriage he wished to contract with a young French lady.
After the fall of the Commune, London was full of French refugees, many of whom were in poverty and distress. My father did his utmost to help them; he never had money to give away, but he did then what he always did in cases needing pecuniary help—he gave a lecture on their behalf. As his views upon the Commune and the French situation were stated in some detail, I quote a few of the more important passages from a report of his lecture which appeared in his own paper.[149] He had taken for his subject "French Republicanism;" and after he had dealt with the proclamations of the Republic in 1792 and 1848, and the declaration of the 4th of September, he said:—
"Coming now to the 18th March, and the Commune, the audience would remember that he had in that hall, within a few hours of that date, guarded himself from any expression for or against a movement which appeared then to have but slight confidence in its own leaders, and which had at that date issued no programme. In judging it now, he should judge it more favourably than he did then, trying to avoid alike the exaggeration of its foes, and the indiscriminating endorsement of its friends. It was charged against the men of Paris that they commenced with the assassinations of Generals Lecomte and Clement Thomas—no one could justify these assassinations—but if this were to form ground for the condemnation of the Commune, which disclaimed all participation in the act, with how much more force would other forms of government fall under the same condemnation. Napoleon I. shot the Duc d'Enghien in a ditch; Louis XVIII. shot Marshal Ney; and although, according to the laws of France, capital punishment for political offences had been abolished, the present Government shot Cremieux, Rossel, Ferri, and Bourgeois. He did not justify or excuse the shooting of the Generals; but those who condemned it should see whether their own hands were clean. Of the latest shootings he hardly dared trust himself to speak. M. Thiers had sheltered himself behind a Committee of Pardons, although he feared that it would not be an incorrect guess to hazard that M. Thiers' own influence had hindered any commutation. He considered the 18th March a fatal mistake, a sad blow to the prospects of Republicanism. The Commune asked for the recognition and consolidation of the Republic. But he denied their right to do that by force of arms. They had great provocation, for they had seen Republicanism and Garibaldi insulted at Bordeaux; they knew that the majority of the Chamber were Legitimist and Orleanist, that M. Thiers was Republican only in name, and that Prussia even had been intriguing to put Henry V. on the throne.... But did the Commune initiate the struggle of force? The people of Paris had arms: they had these under the Constitution; they took other arms, to which also they claimed a Constitutional right. It was due to Thiers' weakness and want of capacity that there was any struggle for the cannon on Montmartre, or perhaps at all. He treated the men of Paris as rebels, ignoring that he was the chief of the executive power of a government of rebellion, unendorsed by any vote of the country. He refused all overtures of peace in a manner unworthy a man in his position, and availed himself of iron, steel, famine, and a worse than Prussian bombardment, to drive to frenzy men whom it might have been possible to win at an earlier stage by judicious negotiation.... It was not wonderful that the Commune fell. There was a demon of suspicion, division, and even treachery amongst prominent men, and the terrible demoralisation of the masses, resulting from their position and the long continuance of the previous siege. The wonder was that it stood so long. It was remarkable how free the city was from common crime. There were, in all the Avenue Montaigne, only some two or three concierges left in charge, and all the property was as safe at the end of the siege as at the beginning. The rent of a first floor in one of those houses was £1000 a year, the furniture in proportion. Yet there was no pillage, as there would have been under almost any other Government, with houses left deserted by their owners. But it was said that the hostages were shot and the buildings were burnt. Now he would be the last to utter one word of justification or defence. He trusted that he might never have to take part in an armed revolution. He believed that if in such a case it was proposed that the public buildings of our city should be destroyed, as those of Paris had been, he would kill without mercy the man who would attempt it. The only thing that could be said was that the men of Paris were ringed round with fire and steel, and all hope of mercy was shut out. To keep them in, Papal Zouaves on the one side, Prussian bayonets on the other. No quarter offered, no generous word of pardon spoken. It could not be wondered if in madness they committed those crimes. It was cruel and cowardly to kill the hostages, but was it for the Versailles troops to reproach the Commune with that? The madness of cruelty had been great on both sides, and the criminality was the greater on the part of the stronger.... The cry of vengeance raised [against the bourgeoisie] was criminal, it was also a blunder; for if nothing was to be done until the middle class was exterminated, then hope was impossible; it never could be exterminated. There should be no question of war in any political movement between the working and the middle classes.... A policy of conciliation as recommended by Talandier was the true one. Each must, if they could not forget the wrongs of yesterday, at any rate remember that fresh blood will not wash out these wrongs. Nations were not to be made up of one class or of another class, but of the people which included all classes. Here [in England] he desired a Republic, and would work for it; but if he could picture, as the only possibility, the walking to its achievement with bloody hands, fire and smoke, and grim visage, he would turn away now, ere it was too late. Republicanism in France would have enough difficulty without class war. Her suddenly increased national debt made a burden not to be borne with impunity. Self-restraint was needed to conquer hate. Generosity on both sides, to forgive alike errors and crimes. Amnesty for yesterday, peace for to-morrow, and then a true Republic might grow in the fair land of France."
A malicious paragraph subsequently went the round of the press stating that the French refugees, on whose behalf this lecture had been delivered, had unanimously refused the proceeds. Of course this statement was utterly devoid of truth; the refugees, far from refusing the help of their friend, accepted it gratefully, and sent to Mr Bradlaugh a formal vote of thanks and an official receipt signed by the secretary and the treasurer of "La Fraternelle," the Society of French Refugees.