Chapter: INTRODUCTORY


WHAT IS THE SALVATION ARMY?

If this question were put to the ordinary person of fashion or
leisure, how would it be answered?

In many cases thus: 'The Salvation Army is a body of people dressed up
in a semi-military uniform, or those of them who are women, in
unbecoming poke bonnets, who go about the streets making a noise in
the name of God and frightening horses with brass bands. It is under
the rule of an arbitrary old gentleman named Booth, who calls himself
a General, and whose principal trade assets consist in a handsome and
unusual face, and an inexhaustible flow of language, which he
generally delivers from a white motor-car wherever he finds that he
can attract the most attention. He is a clever actor in his way, who
has got a great number of people under his thumb, and I am told that
he has made a large fortune out of the business, like the late prophet
Dowie, and others of the same sort. The newspapers are always exposing
him; but he knows which side his bread is buttered and does not care.
When he is gone no doubt his family will divide up the cash, and we
shall hear no more of the Salvation Army!'

Such are still the honest beliefs of thousands of our instructed
fellow-countrymen, and of hundreds of thousands of others of less
degree belonging to the classes which are generally typified under the
synonym of 'the man in the street,' by which most people understand
one who knows little, and of that little nothing accurately, but who
decides the fate of political elections.

Let us suppose, however, that the questioner should succeed in
interesting an intelligent and fair-minded individual holder of these
views sufficiently to induce him to make inquiry into the facts
concerning this Salvation Army. What would he then discover?

He would discover that about five and forty years ago some impulse,
wherever it may have come from, moved a Dissenting minister, gifted
with a mind of power and originality, and a body of great strength and
endurance, gifted, also, with an able wife who shared his views, to
try, if not to cure, at least to ameliorate the lot of the fallen or
distressed millions that are one of the natural products of high
civilization, by ministering to their creature wants and regenerating
their spirits upon the plain and simple lines laid down in the New
Testament. He would find, also, that this humble effort, at first
quite unaided, has been so successful that the results seem to partake
of the nature of the miraculous.

Thus he would learn that the religious Organization founded by this
man and his wife is now established and, in most instances, firmly
rooted in 56 Countries and Colonies, where it preaches the Gospel in
33 separate languages: that it has over 16,000 Officers wholly
employed in its service, and publishes 74 periodicals in 20 tongues,
with a total circulation of nearly 1,000,000 copies per issue: that it
accommodates over 28,000 poor people nightly in its Institutions,
maintaining 229 Food Depots and Shelters for men, women, and children,
and 157 Labour Factories where destitute or characterless people are
employed: that it has 17 Homes for ex-criminals, 37 Homes for
children, 116 Industrial Homes for the rescue of women, 16 Land
Colonies, 149 Slum Stations for the visitation and assistance of the
poor, 60 Labour Bureaux for helping the unemployed, and 521 Day
Schools for children: that, in addition to all these, it has Criminal
and General Investigation Departments, Inebriate Homes for men and
women, Inquiry Offices for tracing lost and missing people, Maternity
Hospitals, 37 Homes for training Officers, Prison-visitation Staffs,
and so on almost _ad infinitum_.

He would find, also, that it collects and dispenses an enormous
revenue, mostly from among the poorer classes, and that its system is
run with remarkable business ability: that General Booth, often
supposed to be so opulent, lives upon a pittance which most country
clergymen would refuse, taking nothing, and never having taken
anything, from the funds of the Army. And lastly, not to weary the
reader, that whatever may be thought of its methods and of the noise
made by the 23,000 or so of voluntary bandsmen who belong to it, it is
undoubtedly for good or evil one of the world forces of our age.

Before going further, it may, perhaps, be well that I should explain
how it is that I come to write these pages. First, I ought to state
that my personal acquaintance with the Salvation Army dates back a
good many years, from the time, indeed, when I was writing 'Rural
England,' in connexion with which work I had a long and interesting
interview with General Booth that is already published. Subsequently I
was appointed by the British Government as a Commissioner to
investigate and report upon the Land Colonies of the Salvation Army in
the United States, in the course of which inquiry I came into contact
with many of its Officers, and learned much of its system and methods,
especially with reference to emigration. Also I have had other
opportunities of keeping in touch with the Army and its developments.

In the spring of 1910 I was asked, on behalf of General Booth, whether
I would undertake to write for publication an account of the Social
Work of the Army in this country. After some hesitation, for the lack
of time was a formidable obstacle to a very busy man, I assented to
this request, the plan agreed upon being that I should visit the
various Institutions, or a number of them, etc., and record what I
actually saw, neither more nor less, together with my resulting
impressions. This I have done, and it only remains for me to assure
the reader that the record is true, and, to the best of his belief and
ability, set down without fear, favour, or prejudice, by one not
unaccustomed to such tasks.

Almost at the commencement of my labours I sought an interview with
General Booth, thinking, as I told him and his Officers (the Salvation
Army is not mealy-mouthed about such matters) that at his age it would
be well to set down his views in black and white. On the whole, I
found him well and vigorous. He complained, however, of the difficulty
he was experiencing, owing to the complete loss of sight in one eye,
occasioned by an accident during a motor journey, and the possible
deprivation of the sight of the other through cataract.

Of the attacks that have been and are continually made upon the
Salvation Army, some of them extremely bitter, General Booth would say
little. He pointed out that he had not been in the habit of defending
himself and his Organization in public, and was quite content that the
work should speak for itself. Their affairs and finances had been
investigated by eminent men, who 'could not find a sixpence out of
place'; and for the rest, a balance-sheet was published annually. This
balance-sheet for the year ending September 30, 1909, I reprint in an
appendix.[1]

With regard to the Social Work of the Army, which in its beginning was
a purely religious body, General Booth said that they had been driven
into it because of their sympathy with suffering. They found it
impossible to look upon people undergoing starvation or weighed down
by sorrows and miseries that came upon them through poverty, without
stretching out a hand to help them on to their feet again. In the same
way they could not study wrongdoers and criminals and learn their
secret histories, which show how closely a great proportion of human
sin is connected with wretched surroundings, without trying to help
and reform them to the best of their abilities. Thus it was that their
Social operations began, increased, and multiplied. They contemplated
not only the regeneration of the individual, but also of his
circumstances, and were continually finding out new methods by which
this might be done.

The Army looked forward to the development of its Social Work on the
lines of self-help, self-management and self-support. Whenever a new
development came under consideration, the question arose--How is it to
be financed? The work they had in hand at present took all their
funds. One of their great underlying principles was that of the
necessity of self-support, without which no business or undertaking
could stand for long. The individual must co-operate in his own moral
and physical redemption. At the same time this system of theirs was,
in practice, one of the difficulties with which they had to contend,
since it caused the benevolent to believe that the Army did not need
financial assistance. His own view was that they ought to receive
support in their work from the Government, as they actually did in
some other countries. Especially did he desire to receive State aid in
dealing with ascertained criminals, such as was extended to them in
certain parts of the world.

Thus only a few weeks before, in Holland, the Parliament had asked the
Salvation Army to co-operate in the care of discharged prisoners and
gave a grant of money for their support. In Java the tale was the
same. There they were preparing estates as homes for lepers, and soon
a large portion of the leper population of that land would be in their
charge.

General Booth told me the story of a celebrated Danish doctor, an
optician, who became attracted to the Army, and, giving up his
practice and position, entered its service with his wife. They said
they wished to lead a life of real sacrifice and self-denial, and so,
after going through a training like any other Cadets, were sent out to
take charge of the medical work in Java. A recent report stated that
this Officer had attended 16,000 patients in nine months, and
performed 516 operations.

In Australia, the Government had handed over the work amongst the
Reformatory boys to the Army. In New Zealand, the Government had
requested it to take over inebriates, and was now paying a
contribution to that work of 10s. per head a week. There the Army had
purchased two islands to accommodate these inebriates, one on which
the men followed the pursuits of agriculture, fishing, and so forth,
and the other for the women. In Canada there was an idea that a large
prison should be erected, of which the Salvation Army would take
charge. He hoped that in course of time they would be allowed greatly
to extend their work in the English prisons.

General Booth pointed out to me with reference to their Social Work,
that it was necessary to spend large sums of money in finding
employment for men whom they had rescued. Here, one of their greatest
difficulties was the vehement opposition of members of the Labour
Party in different countries.

This party said, for example, that the Army ought to pay the Trade
Union rate of wage to any poor fellow whom they had picked up and set
to such labour as paper-sorting or carpentry. Thus in Western
Australia they had an estate of 20,000 acres lying idle. When he was
there a while ago, he asked the Officer in charge why he did not
cultivate this land and make it productive. The man replied he had no
labour; whereon the General said that he could send him plenty from
England.

'Yes,' commented the Officer, 'but the moment they begin to work here,
however inefficient or broken down they may be, we shall have to pay
them 7s. a day!'

This regulation, of course, makes it impossible to cultivate that
estate except at a heavy loss.

He himself had been denounced as the 'prince of sweaters,' because he
took in derelict carpenters at their Institution in Hanbury Street
(which I shall describe later), to whom he did not pay the Trade Union
wage, although that Institution had from the first been worked at a
loss. In this case he had made peace with the Parliamentary Committee
by promising not to make anything there which was used outside the
Army establishments. But still the attacks went on.

Passing from this subject, I asked General Booth if he had formed any
forecast of the future of the Salvation Army after his own death. He
replied that there were certain factors in the present position of the
Army which seemed to him to indicate its future growth and continuity.
Speaking impersonally, he said that the present General had become an
important man not by his own choice or through the workings of
ambition, but by the will of Providence. He had acquired a certain
standing, a great hold over his community, and an influence which
helped to concentrate and keep together forces that had grown to be
worldwide in their character. It was natural, therefore, that people
should wonder what would happen when he ceased to be.

His answer to these queries was that legal arrangements had been made
to provide for this obvious contingency. Under the provisions of the
constitution of the Army he had selected his successor, although he
had never told anybody the name of that successor, which he felt sure,
when announced, was one that would command the fullest confidence and
respect. The first duty of the General of the Army on taking up his
office was to choose a man to succeed him, reserving to himself the
power to change that man for another, should he see good reason for
such a course. In short, his choice is secret, and being unhampered by
any law of heredity or other considerations except those that appeal
to his own reason and judgment, not final. He nominates whom he will.

I asked him what would happen if this nominated General misconducted
himself in any way, or proved unsuitable, or lost his reason. He
replied that in such circumstances arrangements had been made under
which the heads of the Army could elect another General, and that what
they decided would be law. The organization of the Army was such that
any Department of it remained independent of the ability of one
individual. If a man proved incompetent, or did not succeed, his
office was changed; the square man was never left in the round hole.
Each Department had laws for its direction and guidance, and those in
authority were responsible for the execution of those laws. If for any
reason whatsoever, one commander fell out of the line of action,
another was always waiting to take his place. In short, he had no fear
that the removal of his own person and name would affect the
Organization. It was true, he remarked, that leaders cannot be
manufactured to order, and also that the Army had made, and would
continue to make, mistakes up and down the world. But those mistakes
showed them how to avoid similar errors, and how and where to improve.

As regarded a change of headship, a fresh individuality always has
charms, and a new force would always strike out in some new direction.
The man needed was one who would _do_ something. General Booth did not
fear but that he would be always forthcoming, and said that for his
part he was quite happy as to the future, in which he anticipated an
enlargement of their work. The Organization existed, and with it the
arrangements for filling every niche. The discipline of to-day would
continue to-morrow, and that spirit would always be ready to burst
into flame when it was needed.

In his view it was inextinguishable.

 Dr. W. H. R. Rivers, a military psychologist at the Craiglockhart mental facility in Scotland, reads a letter published by Siegfried Sassoon, a British second lieutenant. In his missive, Sassoon decries the meaningless violence of the interminable Great War. Rivers then discusses the letter and Sassoon, a potential patient, with his supervisor, Bryce. Evidently, the normally skeptical military board has declared Sassoon mentally ill in order to undercut the effectiveness of his critique. Rivers wearily agrees to treat the outspoken soldier. Some time before, Robert Graves, Sassoon's good friend and fellow soldier, convinces Sassoon to agree with a diagnosis of mental illness and comply with orders to undergo treatment at Craiglockhart, a progressive center for the treatment of officers. Sassoon, however, is hoping that his letter will force the military authorities to court-martial him, which will make him a much-needed martyr before the apathetic British public. Graves lies and tells his friend that he is unlikely to be court-martialed. Graves further argues that Sassoon's hallucinations--of decomposing corpses in London streets and faces of long dead soldiers--suggest he is actually mentally ill. Graves claims that if Sassoon does not cooperate and appear before a mental health board, he will be thrown into a common lunatic asylum. Sassoon, trusting Graves, relinquishes. Once committed, Sassoon arranges to travel by train to Craiglockhart with Graves, but his friend does not arrive at the station on time. Sassoon therefore arrives at the hospital alone. He pauses briefly outside of the intimidating facade but eventually forces himself to enter. Dr. Rivers quietly watches Sassoon arrive at Craiglockhart and mulls over his newest patient, whose writing and behavior seem coherent and logical. He reflects that it is convenient for the military authorities to assume that Sassoon is mentally ill because his words are most dangerous to them. Rivers observes the lieutenant pause before entering the building, noting Sassoon's "small private victory over fear"

