But this was mild to what occurred the next Sunday, 5th October. The Irish had had time to brood over it, and although “The Working Men’s Garibaldian Fund” had not convened any meeting, it was generally understood that something would take place. By half-past four there must have been some 80 or 90,000 people present, and to hold them in order there were but about 400 police, who were ordered not to interrupt any speaker, nor, if possible to avoid it, to ascend the mound of earth, or rubbish, which had been chosen by the speakers as the platform from which to address the meeting. The following is The Times (Oct. 6) account of what occurred:—
“It appears that the possession of this mound of rubbish was the great object of contention between the rival supporters of Garibaldi and the Pope on Sunday week, and so it was yesterday. It appears to have been first occupied by a mixed body of people, but, owing to an aggressive movement of Irish labourers, it was soon held exclusively by the champions of the Papacy. The Garibaldians submitted reluctantly to this state of things for a short time, and, when two or three soldiers appeared, belonging to the Foot Guards, a cry was raised for ‘Garibaldi’, and some dozen or so men attempted to regain a footing upon the mound.
“This was the signal for a fearful conflict. It became apparent, in a moment, that almost every Irishman had a stick or bludgeon in his possession, and with these they struck about them right and left, crushing hats and breaking heads with relentless brutality. The Garibaldians struck back in return, some with sticks, and some without, and, for some ten minutes, the struggle was sufficiently fierce to awaken fears among the spectators that loss of life would ensue. One stalwart Irishman laid about him with a heavy-looking stick four feet long and two inches in diameter, and another with a roughly squared piece of wood, equally long and equally strong, and with sharp edges, until both were disarmed by the Garibaldians, without the intervention of the police.
“At the end of this struggle the Irish remained masters of the ‘Redan,’ as it was termed; but suddenly there came up about a dozen soldiers—Coldstreams and Grenadiers—who shouted for Garibaldi, and charged up the mound with desperate gallantry. Twice they charged in vain, but the third charge was successful. Up they went, amid loud cheers, and cries of ‘Go it, brave Guards,’ and followed by some 200 people. The front ranks of the Irish gave way; then there was another fierce struggle with sticks and fists on the summit of the mound, and then the Irish were kept off to a man, leaving the position in the hands of the Guards and the Garibaldians. Suddenly some sticks and stones were thrown at them from below, and the Guards plunged down to punish the aggressors. Away went the Irish, away went the Guards in pursuit, and, in a minute, a dense disorderly mass of 5000 or 6000 people was flying across the Park, spreading fear and confusion around them.
“Like a herd of infuriated oxen, they rushed onward, carrying all before them, till it seemed to occur to them that they were running for nothing, and then they returned to the mound. This occurred again and again, women being sometimes thrown down and trampled upon, and men compelled to turn and fly, till the wonder was that serious injuries were not inflicted upon many. Then, at short intervals, whenever the police fixed their eyes on some prominent aggressor, they made a plunge into the heaving mass, and resolutely brought out their man, generally, but not always, succeeded in conveying him away in safe custody. It is impossible to overrate the cool manner in which they set to work. Three or four officers would thrust themselves fearlessly into a mob of 200 or 300 infuriated men, collar one, cling to him, and hold him, despite the attempts made to favour his escape, never drawing a staff, nor striking a blow but holding their man by the bare assertion of the authority of the law, and this not for a brief period, but during the course of several hours.
“The Guards and the Garibaldians having firmly established their supremacy, quiet reigned, at one time for about a quarter of an hour; and, taking advantage of this interval of rest, a working man, came forward, who, in a brief speech, denounced the Emperor of the French as the would-be Dictator of Europe, and the enemy of Italy, the opponent of liberty everywhere, and, above all, the hater of liberty in England. In conclusion he called for three cheers for Garibaldi, which were lustily given, and, when he asked all those who sympathized with Garibaldi to hold up their hands, a forest of dirty hands were extended.
“Then another speaker followed, who, with great common sense, said, ‘Enough has been done. It had been made plain to the world that the feeling of the people of London was in favour of the great patriot, Garibaldi; and with that assurance, they might settle down without any more speeches.’ This speaker had hardly concluded when the tumult was renewed, the mound being lost and won several times, and the rushes through the Park followed close upon each other; while conflicts with sticks and stones were both frequent and severe. Knives were drawn several times, and one formidable weapon, apparently a shoemaker’s knife, with a wooden handle, and a blade nine inches long, was taken from a man, who said he found it lying on the grass after one of the tumultuous rushes. This was delivered up to Sergeant Savage, who forthwith shivered the blade to fragments.
“During one of the assaults upon the mound, a corporal in the Coldstreams had his bayonet snatched from its sheath, and later in the afternoon when it was recovered, the Irishman who had taken it was soundly thrashed, and threatened with a ducking in the Serpentine, towards which he was carried by several soldiers, who, however, yielded to the persuasion of others, and permitted him to go at large.
“At half-past five, two strong pickets, one of Grenadiers, and one of the Fusileers, marched into the Park, for the purpose of carrying off the men belonging to their respective battalions. They marched straight to the mound, and, just as they ascended it, a soldier received a terrific blow on the head from a thick club, wielded by an Irishman. The blood ran down the face of the soldier, who was led away in a fainting condition, his dastardly assailant escaping by plunging into a mass of his sympathizing countrymen. After this, the pickets cleared the mound, of which they held possession till a body of police approached, half an hour later, when the military power yielded to the civil. From that time the police held the mound, and, although there was a great deal of disorderly and tumultuous rushing to and fro, with an occasional scuffle, and wholesale destruction of hats, the fear of any very serious outbreak was passed. The people had begun to disperse at five o’clock, when a few drops of rain fell, and gradually thinned afterwards. But a fine moonlight night was the means of prolonging the demonstration; at seven o’clock, there were still some thousands of people remaining on the ground, and it was late before the Park was restored to its usual peaceful aspect.”
During the next week a strong body of men were engaged in levelling the objectionable mounds, the Guards were forbidden to enter the Park on the following Sunday, and a notice was issued by the Commissioner of Police:—