Additional Notes to Fourth Edition [excerpt]
Page 2. The Regenticide.—During
recent years a particular variety of political offender has in all
civilised countries acquired peculiar importance: the anarchist
who kills a king, governor, or political leader, and is termed a
regicide, or, more comprehensively, a magnicide or regenticide.
Such regenticides have, since the present book was first published,
been responsible for a long series of murders: notably, President
Carnot in France, President McKinley in the United States, King
Humbert in Italy, Canovas in Spain. The murder of Sir Curzon Wyllie
in England scarcely belongs to the same class; it may be said to
be intermediate between the old class of political crime and the
new class of so-called anarchist crime; resembling the former in
being inspired by ideas of national liberation rather than of a
new social order, and resembling the latter by its method of striking
at a person whose death merely calls attention to the end desired,
and by no means contributes to the attainment of that end.
There is some difference of opinion
as to whether the regenticides are properly classed among political
offenders. They are so classed by Proal, Sernicoli and others. But
some, like Krafft-Ebing, Mendel, Régis, and Talbot, consider that
they very frequently belong to the class of insane criminals. (See,
e.g. Régis, Les Régicides dans l’Histoire et dans
le Present; E. S. Talbot, “Degeneracy and Political Assassination,”
Medicine, December, 1901; and, in opposition to this view,
E. C. Spitzka, “A Question of Figures,” Alienist and Neurologist,
April and August, 1902; and by the same author, “Remarks on the
Czolgosz Case,” Medical Critic, January 1902.) Others, again,
like Van Hamel, Aubry, and Bérard, class the regenticides with common
law criminals, and their crime with ordinary murder. There are still
others, like Garraud, who place the regenticides in a class by themselves.
On a question of classification, concerning
which men who speak with authority differ so widely, it is evidently
impossible to decide with complete assurance. It may be said, however,
that it is difficult to accept either of the two extreme views.
However frequently insanity may be found among regenticides [412][413]
some of the most typical regenticides have certainly not been insane
in any technical sense. Nor, at the other end, is it possible to
identify the regenticide with the ordinary criminal. The latter,
however false his calculations may be, is moved by self-interest;
he reckons that he has a fair chance of personal gain. But the regenticide
is perfectly well aware that—putting aside posthumous fame or infamy—he
has no chance of personal gain; he deliberately sacrifices his life
for the sake of an ideal, for what he believes is for the benefit
of humanity; this alone seems to place him entirely apart from the
criminal against the common law. It would seem that we must either
place the regenticides in the class of political offenders, in which
case our conception of that class must be somewhat modified or enlarged,
or else we must regard them as constituting an allied but distinct
class.
Regenticides are usually considered
to be anarchists, and frequently claim to be such. It is necessary
to understand the relationship of the regenticide to the anarchist.
The common law offender frequently claims to be an anarchist; he
regards anarchism as a plausible philosophical excuse for his exploits.
But his claim is sufficiently refuted by the fact that his crimes
have an obvious motive in purposes of gain.* As
a matter of fact there are very few anarchists among common law
offenders, even in regions where anarchism abounds (see ante,
p. 190). Crimes of violence following robbery, and usually committed
merely in self-defence, have also no connection with anarchism,
though the perpetrators are often popularly termed “anarchists.”
The genuine anarchist attacks rulers or leaders in the social state;
far from seeking personal gain he knows that he is almost certainly
devoting his own life to the cause he has at heart, and he seeks
to justify his act by regarding it as a protest against a social
system which is responsible for an incalculable amount of misery
and death. No doubt it may be maintained that such acts of violence
and such a standpoint are not strictly compatible with anarchism;
the anarchist holds that the evils of the present social state are
due to its violence and its forcible suppression of spontaneous
social activity. Therefore by adopting the method of assassination
he is accepting in its very worst form the evil he condemns. It
has to be recognised, however, that the declarations of certain
anarchist leaders may be plausibly [413][414]
interpreted as justifying assassination. This has been the case
ever since in 1876 Cafiero and Malatesta proclaimed the desirability
of propaganda by act, in order to affirm the principle of
anarchism and to spread abroad a knowledge of the natural laws of
social life. (This has, for instance, been set forth in a temperate
article by Eugenio Calon on “La Delincuencia Anarquista” in La
Lectura of Madrid, July 1908.) It was inevitable that ignorant
and hot-headed youths—often of abnormal temperament to start with,
and roused to feverish enthusiasm by the spectacle of social misery
and contact with an environment of revolt—should be fatally driven
to acts of violence, which seem to them likely to speed on the regeneration
of the world as well as to ensure a martyr’s crown.
The modern regenticide in his most
typical aspects is well represented by Caserio, the murderer of
President Carnot, and Czolgosz, the murderer of President McKinley.
Caserio was minutely investigated
by Dr. Lacassagne, who in 1894 published a book about him which
has passed through several editions (also Archives d’Anthropologie
Criminelle, 1894); his behaviour in prison has been described
in detail by M. Raux, the honorary director of the prison (“Les
Actes, les Attitudes et le Correspondence de Caserio en Prison,”
Archives d’Anthropologie Criminelle, 1903, pp. 465-506).
Régis has pointed out that regenticides are usually young; Caserio
was only twenty-one. His father, otherwise an ordinary working man,
seems at one time to have been epileptic, and it was said that an
uncle was insane. Caserio’s mother seems to have been a woman of
good heart and fine feelings. Caserio had little education, and
his intelligence, though quick, was superficial; he was a baker’s
assistant, and was dismissed shortly before his crime. His predominant
quality was character; he had a strong will, with great energy and
persistence. He was emotional, with ready sympathy; as a child,
he said, he could not even kill a fly. If the President’s mild eyes
had been fixed on him before, instead of after, he struck him, the
dagger would have fallen from his hand. But the thought of human
suffering always drove Caserio to frenzy, and his eyes would become
inflamed with savage anger. From the age of fourteen he had often
been moved to tears by the spectacle of the drudgery to which even
the children of the poor are subjected in Italy in the endeavour
to earn a miserable wage. Victor Hugo, on account of his pictures
of suffering, was Caserio’s favourite author. He thus offered a
favourable soil for the crudest anarchistic ideas to germinate in.
He was a fanatic, says Raux, “une espèce d’illuminé.” Lacassagne
calls him “un fanatique assassin,” and thinks he cannot altogether
be ranged among the regicides as understood by Régis. This is no
doubt correct, since Régis regards the regicide as necessarily in
some degree insane. [414][415] There
were no signs of insanity in Caserio, and even stigmata of degeneration
were few and slight. He was not epileptic, and he had no psychic
anomalies or defects. In appearance, Caserio was rather tall, with
mild, frank eyes of greenish tint; the Italian type was not specially
marked. His lips were thick, but he had an open and almost constant
smile. On the whole, it was a not unintelligent but yet not significant
face. He was not loquacious, but was always prepared to defend his
opinions and his crime. In the letters he wrote from prison he constantly
sets forth his feelings and ideas, and reaffirms his own attitude.
The day before his execution he wrote in a letter to his sister:
“Do not believe those who tell you that I am an assassin, but remember
that it is for a great ideal that I am dying.” He went docilely
to execution, though trembling slightly. “Courage, camarades, vive
l’anarchie!” were his last words beneath the knife of the guillotine.
The reliable information concerning
the personality of Czolgosz is small but authoritative, consisting
of a psychiatrical investigation by Dr. Carlos F. Macdonald and
a report of the post-mortem examination by Professor E. A. Spitzka
(“The Trial, Execution, Autopsy, and Mental Status of Leon F. Czolgosz,”
American Journal of Insanity, No. 3, 1902). It should be
said that Dr. Macdonald’s mental examination was made at the wish
of both prosecution and defence, who desired to have the opinion
of an independent expert. Czolgosz was at this time twenty-eight
years of age, unmarried, a labourer by occupation, born in Michigan
of Polish parents. He was of medium height, blue-eyed, with light
curly brown hair. He was mild-mannered and good-looking, with a
pleasing expression of countenance which is noted alike by Macdonald
and Spitzka, and distinctly confirmed by his photographs. His head
and face were singularly symmetrical, and his body generally was
almost entirely devoid of any stigmata of degeneration. Nor were
there any tremours, inequality of pupils, abnormal reflexes, or
other indications of a disordered nervous system. Czolgosz spoke
little, but he was ready to answer questions; and though his manner
was quiet his answers were firm. He showed no signs of exaltation,
and made no claim to any “mission.” He mere said that he had “done
his duty,” for McKinley was “an enemy of the good people—the good
working people,” and he was not sorry. He declared himself an Anarchist,
and said that he had associated with Anarchists and studied their
doctrine. He met his death by electricity calmly and courageously,
with defiant determination. All five of the mental experts who examined
Czolgosz were of opinion that he was, without question, absolutely
sane. The careful post-mortem examination by Professor E. A. Spitzka
revealed nothing inconsistent with this conclusion. Czolgosz’s body
was normal, healthy, [415][416] well
proportioned, and well nourished, though not coarsely developed.
The skull was sub-brachycephalic, as would be expected in a Pole,
and not more than normally asymmetrical. The brain was entirely
healthy and normal, and its individual peculiarities—such as are
found in all brains—were not specially remarkable or significant.
Its weight (1415 grs.) was a little over the average, but the two
halves showed nothing of the special lack of symmetry commonly found
in highly-endowed individuals. On the other hand, it showed no marked
evidence of arrested development or atavistic anomalies.
In order to realise the distinct physiognomy
of the true anarchist criminal it is only necessary to place him
beside the ordinary criminal, even when the latter affects the airs
of the anarchist. A typical example of this latter class is furnished
by Ravachol, and we have the advantage of possessing a detailed
picture of his last days by the same director, M. Raux, who has
described Caserio, a picture which is all the more instructive because
M. Raux himself is content to regard Ravachol as an anarchist, even
in the extreme degree. (Raux, “Étude Psychologique de Ravachol,”
Archives d’Anthropologie Criminelle, 15th Sept. 1903.) Ravachol,
who was of Prussian origin (his real name was Königstein), though
born in France, was the son of an artisan who drank and who ran
away from his wife with another woman. Young Ravachol, after being
put to various occupations, embarked on a career of crime, was a
coiner, a smuggler, etc., and finally, with the aid of accomplices,
committed a series of murders on old people (one ninety-two years
of age) who were suspected of having accumulated in their dwellings
a little horde of money. These crimes finally brought him to the
scaffold at the age of thirty-two. In all respects Ravachol’s crimes
were in absolute contrast to the acts of a genuine anarchist; he
was not a regenticide; he was actuated entirely by self-interest
and laziness; he was prepared to commit any atrocity in order to
escape detection or arrest, and far from feeling sympathy with the
poor and suffering he was himself ready to rob them, and when still
a youth he had decamped with the funds of a small circle of working-men
of whom he had been made treasurer. Yet he prated volubly of his
“political principles,” had actually frequented the society of anarchists,
and even to the last was regarded by many anarchists as a “comrade.”
The saddest and most disquieting feature of the trial of Ravachol
consisted in the crass ignorance and stupidity of those who acclaimed
him as a hero; many letters of admiration were sent to him hinting
at wild schemes for saving him from prison or revenging his fate;
in more than one of these letters he was compared to Christ. In
reality Ravachol was the type of the born-criminal or moral imbecile,
a brutal, insolent, and cynical bully, whose character was [416][417]
clearly written on his face. As happens with such men, his ferocity
was unsupported by courage, and his blatant pretension forsook him
in the end. He was dragged ignominiously to the guillotine in a
state of abject terror. There was nothing here of the quiet and
determined courage of Czolgosz, convinced even to the end that he
had merely “done my duty.”
The investigation of two such typical
and yet unlike regenticides as Caserio and Czolgosz clearly shows
that they are absolutely distinct alike from the insane group of
criminals and from ordinary criminals against the common law. In
typical cases, though not in all cases, the regenticide is sane,
though imperfectly educated; he has no delusions, though he often
over-rates the influence of his act in modifying social conditions.
He not only shares the ordinary feelings of humanity, but he possesses
them in an exaggerated degree. It is the very excess of his sympathetic
sensibilities that impels him to his deed of violence. He execrates
the few because he loves the many. The spectacle of the contrast
between the poverty and suffering of the many and the luxury and
heartlessness of the few arouses in his youthful and uncultivated
brain the conviction that the present social system must be destroyed
to give way to a better. It thus comes about that in the regenticide
sanguinary violence is allied to the most exalted and self-sacrificing
altruism. (This view of Anarchistic crime has been well set forth
by the Spanish criminologist, Bernaldo de Quirós, in Las Nuevas
Teorias de la Criminalidad, 1908, pp. 57, 221 et seq.,
and Hamon, in his instructive work, Psychologie l’Anarchiste
Socialiste, well shows the anarchist’s hyperæsthetic altruism.)
He is, as Bourdeau puts it (art. “Anarchie,” Say’s Nouveau Dictionnaire
d’Economie Politique), a “philanthropic assassin.” He is a social
fanatic who slays in order to save, just as the religious fanatics
of old, the Torquemadas and others, similarly slew men’s bodies
in order to save men’s souls. This attitude is not essentially insane
or inhuman, though it is sufficiently abnormal to be easily allied
with insanity. It most easily arises in young, narrow, and ill-trained
minds, unable to see that no individual, however highly placed,
is a necessary prop of the present social system, and that in any
case it is useless to oppose violence to violence. In many cases,
probably, if these regenticidal youths could be preserved from violence
for a few years longer, until their knowledge increased and their
vision of life widened, they would become respectable and even estimable
members of the social state they once wished to destroy.
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