“The May Day celebration in London has been marked by one of the most extraordinary scenes ever witnessed in Hyde Park. The occasion was a demonstration organized by the Social Democratic Federation to unite with the demonstrations on the Continent in making the first of May Labour Day. There was, of course, a procession, which formed up on the Embankment, and was about as imposing as that which follows a drunken man to the police-station.
“There was the difference that it had a few waggonettes and greengrocers’ carts to lengthen it out. Some of the waggonettes and the greengrocers’ carts were arched in with green branches, and the drivers wore red caps of the sort usually associated with burlesque. They were understood to represent ‘caps of liberty.’ A few bakers’ carts displayed specimens of French loaves and horseshoe rolls. In some of the carts were children who sang the ‘Marseillaise,’ as the carts trailed through Piccadilly. Girls of an older growth had donned white dresses trimmed with a virulent red, and marshalled the younger ones. Mr. Keir Hardie, with his tweed cap and his pipe, walked through the crowd like one who expected the homage due to a hero. Mr. William Morris was also there, but one could not help thinking that he was, and felt, out of place. There were speeches, of course. These were laudatory, for the most part, of the workers and the Social Democratic Federation.
“But the Anarchists had, somehow, recovered their spirits, and had ventured to join in the procession. Agnes Henry, in her inevitable yellow ulster and cloth shoes, plodded indefatigably on the outskirts of the crowd. Louise Michel hovered here and there. They had their flags—red with black fringes—with them. One was an imposing banner on two poles, with an appeal to put down all government and authority. The Anarchists took up their position as side shows to the main demonstration. The crowd had paid no attention to the Social Democrats, but the Anarchists drew them like a magnet. A man, named Leggatt, a well known anarchist, declaimed from one platform; a succession of speakers, including Louise Michel, Mowbray, Dr Macdonald, and others, from another, which was intended to be more important. Sullivan, of Tower Hill fame, had a little show of his own. There was an evident desire to listen to the Anarchists patiently at first. Then the listeners had their feelings jarred by some outrageous exposition of the doctrine of explosives. They groaned and hooted. Leggatt, with clumsy retort, said they should be at a Board School, or playing marbles. So far as he was concerned, the result was disastrous. There was a spring at him, and he swayed for a moment on his perch, and then came down full length, while his platform was soon in little bits. The police, who had been observing the ugly temper of the crowd, rushed in, just in time to save him from worse injury. The banner was promptly in ribbons, and its pole was broken up. On this the people at the other platform discreetly folded their banner, and took it away.
“They would have done as well to have taken themselves away also. One man, whose vanity shall not be gratified by having his name mentioned here, said the police were keeping down the workers. ‘You will never be free while you have such men as Melville.’[54] He was answered with a cheer for the police, and, in a second more, was in the hands of the crowd. There were cries of ‘In the Serp. with him,’ and again Chief-Inspector Peters and his men had to rush in to save the demonstrators from the consequences of their own folly. A red tie became a dangerous article of adornment—there were threats to lynch the wearers. It was now becoming more and more difficult to keep the crowd in hand. Big as the A.R. division men are, they could hardly force their way through the dense masses.
“Never has there been such a scene in the Park. Racing across it came the hunted Anarchists, surrounded by a yelling, fist-using crowd, with the police protecting, as well as they could, the objects of the public wrath. At the Marble Arch, the police formed a cordon across the gates and closed all passage, and it was then only that the Anarchists, bleeding and bruised, were able to get into cabs and be driven to safety.”
Any one would have thought that this lesson would have lasted them some time, but it was not so. On the first Sunday in the month (6th May) the annual demonstration in favour of a “Legal Eight Hours Day” took place in Hyde Park; and, although the Anarchists had nothing whatever to do with the meeting, yet the irrepressibles were there, and succeeded in marching to their usual speaking-place near the Reformers’ Tree; but their reception by the sympathizers with the demonstration was of so hostile a character, that before the head of the procession arrived, they were hunted out of the Park, and, but for the protection afforded by the police, several would have been severely handled.
Perhaps the greatest fiasco of any of these meetings was one held Aug. 26th, 1894, with a view of abolishing the House of Lords. There were comparatively few people, the procession being made up of banners and bands.
