Living My Life - Emma Goldman [104]
Many friends came to the steamer to say adieu to me and to Mary Isaak, who was sailing with me. [ ... ] It was hard also to part from my brother. I was glad to be able to leave him some money, and I would contribute to his needs from the monthly allowance my Detroit friends were to send me. I could manage on less; I had done it in Vienna. The boy had taken deep hold on my heart; he was so tender and considerate that his affection had become something very precious in my life. As the big liner steamed out, I remained on deck to watch the receding silhouettes of New York.
Our crossing was uneventful, except for a raging storm. We arrived in London two days too late for the eleventh-of-November meeting2 and at the height of the Boer War.3 In the house where Harry Kelly4 and his family were living there was only one room vacant, and that was in the basement. Even in clear weather it had but little daylight, while on foggy days the gas-jet had to be kept going all the time. The fire-place warmed only one’s side or back, never the entire body, and I constantly had to keep changing my position to balance, to some extent, the atmospheric difference between the fire and the cold room.
Having been in London during its best season, in late August and September, I used to think that people exaggerated when they spoke of the horrors of the London fogs, the dampness and greyness of its winter. But I realized this time that they had hardly done justice to the reality. The fog was like a monster, stealthily creeping up and enveloping the victim in its chilly embrace. Mornings I would awaken with a leaden feeling, my mouth parched. In vain the hope of enjoying a ray of light by opening the blinds; the blackness from the outside would soon creep into the room.
CHAPTER XXI
The war madness in England was so great, some of the comrades informed me, that it would be almost impossible to deliver my lectures as had been planned. Harry Kelly was of the same opinion. “Why not hold anti-war mass meetings?” I suggested. I referred to the splendid gatherings we had in America during the Spanish War. Now and then there had been attempts at interference, and several lectures had to be given up, but on the whole we had been able to carry through our campaign. Harry thought, however, that it would be impossible in England. His description of violent attacks on speakers (the jingo spirit being at its height) and of meetings being broken up by patriotic mobs sounded discouraging. [ ... ]
At the invitation of the Kropotkins I went out with Mary Isaak to Bromley. This time Mrs. Kropotkin and her little daughter, Sasha, were at home. Both Peter and Sophia Grigorevna received us with affectionate cordiality. We discussed America, our movement there, and conditions in England. Peter had visited the States in 1898, but I was at the time on the Coast and unable to attend his lectures. I knew, however, that his tour had been very successful and that he had left a most gratifying impression. The proceeds of his meetings had helped to revive Solidarity I and inject new life into our movement. Peter was particularly interested in my tours through the Middle West and California. “It must be a splendid field,” he remarked, “if you can cover the same ground three times in succession.” I assured him that it was, and that much of the credit for my success in California had been due to Free Society. “The paper is doing splendid work,” he warmly agreed, “but it would do more