Confessions of an anarchist

It is now some twenty odd years since the gospel of knife, revolver, torch, and bomb was first introduced into the arena of English politics. At this time a “group” of Anarchists—among them the famous Prince Kropotkin—met at a house in Newington Green Road and issued a monthly “anti-political and revolutionary” publication called the Anarchist, which later appeared as the Revolutionary Review. Dissensions arising among the “companions,” a number, among whom was the Prince, dissatisfied with the conduct of the paper, now seceded and started a rival journal—Freedom—which appears at irregular intervals to this day. Following on these events came the split in the Social Democratic Federation, in 1884, owing to the political and anti-anarchist policy of that body, a number of whose members left and formed themselves into the Socialist League, which, from its inception, evinced Anarchistic leanings, in that it favoured forcible methods. A field having been created for their activity, several Anarchists joined the new body with the object of diverting its propaganda into Anarchistic channels. This they soon succeeded in accomplishing, for, one by one, the Socialists deserted the League in disgust, leaving the Anarchists masters of the situation, and in possession of printing plant and machinery which had been presented to that body by William Morris, the poet, for the furtherance of Socialist principles. The Socialist League now-dissolved, and in its place appeared the “Commonweal Anarchist Group” (named after the paper it published), a number of whose members soon after, for various criminal offences, fell into the hands of the police.

By its propagandist activity the “Commonweal Group” inspired the formation of a number of English “groups” throughout London and the provinces. In London, these “groups” were to be found at Canning Town (with close on a hundred members), Hoxton, Peckham, Clerkenwell, Mile End, Stratford, Woolwich, Brixton, and Deptford. In the provinces, “groups” of English Anarchists were active in Leicester, Sunderland, Hull, Northampton, Leeds, Sheffield, Liverpool, and Walsall.

Among the foreigners who, in England, espoused the Anarchist gospel, there existed a feeling of utter contempt for their moderate English companions. Some half dozen first met in a small back room in Little Goodge Street, Soho, about the time of the formation of the Socialist League. As their numbers augmented, so they took more pretentious premises in Rathbone Place, till eventually the lease of a house was taken in Windmill Street. This latter establishment was the now-historical “Club Autonomie,” within whose four walls was planned more than one outrage which was destined to startle the world. One of the earliest members of this club was Stanislaus Padlewski, who some time afterwards murdered the Russian General Seliverstoff, and himself escaped to America. A considerable sum was offered by the Russian Government for the body of Padlewski, dead or alive. Tracked by the police to Italy, to Malta, to Gibraltar, he arrived in London, much broken down by this life of a hunted wild beast, and was taken in charge by the “comrades” of the Autonomie. But no sooner had he arrived in London than the police got scent of him, and commenced a real orgie of espionage. He was hidden, however, and in a disguise provided by members of the Autonomie, arrived safely on American soil, where, in 1891, he committed suicide in the park of San Antonio, Texas.

At this club, also, at different times, were to be seen men and women whose names and appearance were familiar to the secret police of practically every capital in Europe: Dedajeff, the slayer of Colonel Sudekin; Louise Michel, the “Red Virgin,” who fought behind the barricades in the Paris Communist Insurrection of 1871, and who, in 1883, was sentenced to six years’ supervision for helping the mob of Lyons to sack the bread shops; Enrico Malatesta, the leader of the Italian Anarchists, and the most dangerous plotter of modern times—who, however, whenever trouble comes—when the death of kings and presidents is in the air—appears in the background; Felix Volkovski, the one time sub-editor of Stepniak’s paper, Free Russia, who, although not an Anarchist, was a frequent visitor; François Meunier, who, extradited to France, was sent to penal servitude for an explosion at the Café Very in Paris; Emile Henri, who blew up the Café Terminus; Pietro Gori, the expelled Italian Anarchist lawyer; Dr. Merlino; Emile Pouget, ex-editor of Le Père Peinard; Bernard Kampffmeyer, and many others of lesser note. It may also be remembered that one of the Walsall prisoners was arrested while passing the Tottenham Court Road police station on his way to the Autonomie Club with a large bottle of chloroform in his possession.

Bombs were even made in this club, and, in one or two instances, the actual explosives with which the bombs were charged were stored for a considerable time on the premises. Chemistry classes were formed and experiments made, with the result that the club was burnt to the ground. When the premises were rebuilt, the Anarchists did not inhabit them long. One of the “comrades,” the Frenchman Martial Bourdin, bent on destroying the Greenwich Observatory, was, one afternoon, blown to pieces with his own bomb. In his possession was found a card of membership of the Autonomie. That evening the police raided the premises, and the club ceased to be.

Contemporary with the Autonomie there sprang up also a number of foreign Anarchist clubs in London and the provinces—the Scandinavian Club in Rathbone Place; the “Communistische Arbeiter Bildungs Verein” in Great Charlotte Street; the German Club in Grafton Street, three of whose members are now in penal servitude for an attempted burglary in Dulwich and shooting a policeman; the German “Forwards” Club, Hoxton; the Jewish International Club in Berner Street, E.; the Italian Club, Clerkenwell, which comprised among its members the man Farnara, who, with the boy Polti, were sentenced to ten and twenty years’ penal servitude respectively for making bombs. In the provinces the most active among the foreign groups were the German “Club Liberty” in Hull, and the Jewish Club, Leeds.

Among the leaders of Anarchist thought in England it is surprising how many, during the past few years, have recanted their opinions: Henry Seymour, editor of the first Anarchist journal ever published in English, is now a peaceful individualist, and occasionally takes part in political agitation; H. B. Samuels, the one-time sensational editor of the notorious Commonweal, has discarded Anarchist opinions for those of Social Democracy; Dr. Merlino, once leader of the Italian section, and Miss Agnes Henry of the Freedom Group, are now moderate constitutional Socialists; Carl Quinn, the “Christian Anarchist,” has severed his connection with the party, and is now a “Perpetualist” (whatever that may be); and the Misses Rossetti, who edited and printed the Torch, and who are related to Dante Gabriel Rossetti, have left the movement for good.

Among the leaders of present-day Anarchism in England may be mentioned the names of John Turner, president of the Shop Assistants’ Union; Enrico Malatesta, the stormy petrel of revolt; and Prince Peter Alexeivitch Kropotkin, the most distinguished of all Russian exiles. It is difficult to imagine the latter—this quiet scientist—as a leader of revolt, yet leader of revolt he certainly is. He is a regular contributor to Freedom, as well as to Anarchist publications abroad. His ideas may be judged by the following phrases taken from one of his writings—“Law and Authority”—“Instead of inanely repeating the old formula, ‘Respect the law,’ we say, ‘Despise law and all its attributes!’ In place of the cowardly phrase ‘Obey the law,’ our cry is, ‘Revolt against all laws!’ ... No more laws! No more judges! Burn the guillotines; demolish the prisons; drive away the judges, policemen and informers, the impurest race upon the face of the earth; treat as a brother the man who has been led by passion to do ill to his brother.”

A wit has said that the profession of faith of the Anarchists reduces itself to two articles of a fantastic law: (1) There shall be nothing. (2) No one is charged with carrying out the above article. According to the Manifesto of the Anarchist-Communist Alliance, the object of Anarchism is the “paralysation of all existing authoritarian institutions and organisations, the prevention of new organisations of this character, and the expropriation of the rich.” And it further candidly confesses that “when asked what we intend to put in their place we reply, ‘Nothing whatever.’” Verily, to the Anarchist, all is vanity and vexation of spirit; to him, social reformers are “mere quacks, place-hunters, etc.;” political work is “idle electioneering;” patriotism and religion are the “first and last refuges and strongholds of scoundrels;” the very word “church” is a “disgusting word” to the Anarchist; he has “no belief in trade-unions;” “co-operation is” to him “impracticable;” while the “meanest and most repulsive ‘friends’ of the workers,” he thinks, “are the teetotallers and advocates of thrift and saving.”

To-day there are practically no purely English Anarchists, and the foreign element here is gradually but surely dwindling and disappearing. This is due largely to the political branch of the Criminal Investigation Department, which, by its elaborate system of espionage, has so estranged the “comrades” that mutual suspicion reigns among them, and one “comrade” is afraid to trust another. It may be asked, What of the English “groups” I have spoken of? Numbers of their members, disgusted with the propaganda of violence, and convinced of the falsity of Anarchy, have reverted to the political bodies they, in most cases, originally seceded from, namely, the various Socialist organisations throughout the country. Let no one imagine that these latter bodies at all favour revolutionary methods. On the contrary, every Socialist now-a-days is a constitutional political reformer, who believes in achieving his ideal Commonwealth through the ordinary channels of Parliamentary and municipal activity.

I have spoken of the Anarchist “movement,” but I have used the word solely for convenience’ sake. For the only movement among the Anarchists here in England is a struggle with fast-approaching dissolution. What with the ever-increasing number of seceders who desert the party to join the individualists or the Tolstoyans, and the still larger number who enlist under the banner of Social Democracy, together with the systematic police-spying, the cessation of the various journals and the break-up of so many “groups” and clubs, the Anarchists, as a party, are fast becoming defunct. I could give a long list of groups and clubs which have lately become non est. In a year or two Anarchism will be as extinct in England as the dodo.