Conscientious Objector Bertrand Russell's Letters from Brixton Prison

Augustus John’s Portrait of Bertrand Russell

During the First World War, the noted mathematician and philosopher Bertrand Russell was prosecuted under the Defence of the Realm Act for an editorial written for the weekly paper of the pacifist organization with which he was closely involved. The offending passage was hardly the most provocative, defiant, or impassioned statement of protest about the First World War, which Russell’s “whole nature was involved” in opposing for more than four years. A century later, it's hard to see why the government responded so vigorously to a few sentences from a longer piece. Possibly, because he had alluded to the presumed traditions of Britain's  newly arriving and essential "Associated Power," the United States of America.

The American garrison which will by that time be occupying England and France, whether or not they will prove efficient against the Germans, will no doubt be capable of intimidating strikers, an occupation to which the American army is accustomed when at home. I do not say that these thoughts are in the mind of the Government. All the evidence is that there are no thoughts whatsoever in their mind, and that they live from hand to mouth consoling themselves with ignorance and sentimental twaddle.

Nevertheless, Lloyd George's government was very upset and prosecuted Russell for his naughty words. In February 1918 a London magistrate found Russell guilty of the trumped-up charge and sentenced him to six months in Brixton Prison. Russell, however,  was spared from the strict discipline, petty cruelties, and arduous labour of the second division. He was allowed to furnish his cell, wear civilian clothes, purchase catered food, and most important, be exempted from prison work while he pursued his profession as an author. Russell quickly formulated an exacting programme of philosophical writing for the months ahead. His productivity included one nearly completed manuscript, Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy, and full notes for another, The Analysis of Mind.

In four and a half months, Russell also wrote at least 104 prison letters. These Brixton letters are of enormous historical interest, and recipients attested immediately to their literary quality. Some passages have become almost famous. Russell was not the first distinguished thinker to produce writing of lasting value under conditions of some duress. He was conscious of his place in that unhappy but venerable tradition of political persecution. His letters provide revealing autobiographical insights and illuminate a state of mind that veers from boundless hope about his future intellectual and personal life to listless anguish and jealous recriminations.

43 Years Later, Russell Would Be Sentenced to Another
Visit to Brixton Prison for This Anti-Nuclear Protest

Russell's letters are long rambling affairs filled with personal messages for the principal recipient to pass on,  his personal financial matters, observations about life in prison, status reports on his daily writings, and much about the progress of the hated war. Here are some excerpts from his 3 June 1918 letter to his brother Frank that I found interesting.

. . . In writing to Lady C[onstance Malleson], please thank her for biscuits which are a solace. — Tell C.A. [Clifford Allen]  he must come South to see me — tell him my moral condition is parlous and needs a sermon from him. 

. . . my income, apart from earnings,  after deducting income tax and life insurance, is very little over £100 a year. . . Is there any possibility that those who wish me to do philosophy could establish a research fellowship for me? This would also have the advantage of being something definite to put before [Minister for National Service Sir Auckland] Geddes. If this is impossible, could you inquire as to ways of earning £200 a year which would leave some leisure for philosophy?

. . . Existence here is not disagreeable, but for the fact that one can’t see one’s friends. That one fact does make it, to me, very disagreeable — but if I were devoid of affection, like many middle aged men, I should find nothing to dislike. One has no responsibilities, and infinite leisure. My time passes very fruitfully. In a normal day, I do 4 hours philosophical writing, 4 hours philosophical reading, and 4 hours general reading – so you can understand my wanting a lot of books.

. . . I have been reading [French Revolutionary] Madame Roland’s memoirs and have come to the conclusion that she was a very over-rated woman: snobbish, vain, sentimental, envious — rather a German type. Her last days before her execution were spent in chronicling petty social snubs or triumphs of many years back. 

. . . I have given up the bad habit of imagining the war may be over some day. One must compare the time with that of the Barbarian invasion. . . For the next 1000 years people will look back to the time before 1914 as they did in the Dark Ages to the time before the Goths sacked Rome. Queer animal, Man!

Your loving brother

Bertrand Russell.

The full collection of letters courtesy of the Bertrand Russell Research Centre at McMaster University can be found online HERE The Centre's website was the main resource for this article.