Charles Bradlaugh: a Record of His Life and Work, Volume 1 (of 2): With an Account of his Parliamentary Struggle, Politics and Teachings. Seventh EditionRobertson, J. M. (John Mackinnon)
History
Charles Bradlaugh: a Record of His Life and Work, Volume 1 (of 2): With an Account of his Parliamentary Struggle, Politics and Teachings. Seventh Edition
Robertson, J. M. (John Mackinnon)
Bradlaugh, Charles, 1833-1891
At the quarterly election of officers in December 1866 Mr Bradlaugh
was again elected upon the Executive, and he appealed to his friends
to show renewed activity in the time of hard work which he felt lay
before them. On February 11th (1867) the League held two mass meetings,
one in the afternoon at Trafalgar Square, and one in the evening at
the Agricultural Hall. The Trafalgar Square meeting was, if possible,
"more complete, more orderly, and more resolute" than any previous one.
Mr Baxter Langley and Mr Bradlaugh were appointed "deputy marshals;"
they were mounted, and wore tri-coloured scarves and armlets (I have
my father's now). It was their special duty to see that order was
kept, and their office was no sinecure; for although the main body was
entirely orderly, still on the outskirts there was a fair sprinkling
of people who had come "to see the fun," and were bent on seeing it,
even if they had to make it for themselves. One form of creating "fun"
was the snatching off hats and throwing them into the fountain basins;
another was throwing stones from above on to the crowd below. This
dangerous amusement was checked by Mr Bradlaugh, who, singling out a
young fellow who had thrown a stone from the front of the National
Gallery, rode his horse right up the steps in pursuit. The young man
escaped amongst his companions, but Mr Bradlaugh's energy stopped that
form of "fun." That poor little brown horse! It would be difficult
to say which was the more tired, horse or rider, before they parted
company that day; the horse was small--as I have heard my father
say--for the weight it had to carry, and my father had not crossed a
horse since he left the army in 1853. For six and a half hours they
kept order together, and both must have been heartily glad when they
reached the Agricultural Hall, and the little brown horse went home to
his stall and his supper whilst Mr Bradlaugh went inside to speak.[92]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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