Confrontations like these made both the workers and the converts bolder than ever. Many poor people embroidered Bible verses they could not even read onto their clothing, and a chair mender changed his chant from “Bring out your broken chairs to mend” to “Bring out your broken hearts to mend.”
A new headquarters at 272 Whitechapel Road meant that some of the East London Christian Mission papers were moved out of the Booths’ house and the children were able to spread out a little more. However, it was a constant strain finding people who could read and write well enough to help staff the new headquarters. At one point William had only a young boy and an ex-cook to handle all the paperwork. Debts were often left unpaid, and urgent letters slipped behind the mail desk. Whenever possible, William’s oldest children were pressed into service, but even they could not keep up with the growing work. What William needed was a private secretary, though he had no idea where to find one.
Chapter 9
Introducing the Salvation Army
It was a cool autumn day in 1872 when William Booth eased his tired body into a warm mineral bath at Matlock. When he felt ill, William often came to the baths to relax his aching joints and enjoy the quiet atmosphere. He had just settled onto a wooden seat at the edge of the bath when the proprietor, Mr. Smedley, walked in, escorting a stranger to the pool that William was in. As soon as he saw William, he stopped and smiled. “Ha, the Reverend William Booth,” he said. “May I introduce you to the Reverend Launcelot Railton. You should have a lot in common to talk about. The Reverend Railton is a Methodist minister.”
William nodded as Mr. Railton climbed down the stone steps and into the bath.
“Are you the Reverend William Booth of the East London Christian Mission?” Launcelot Railton asked nervously in his Scottish brogue.
“That is I,” William replied. “How have you come to hear of me?”
The Reverend Railton swirled the water with his hand, waiting a long time to reply. “My younger brother George speaks of you,” he said disapprovingly. “He has read some of your pamphlets and finds himself in agreement with your methods.”
“He does?” William said. “Do I take it from your tone of voice that you do not?”
Launcelot Railton took a deep breath. “If you had been subjected to the antics of my younger brother, you would be less than willing to give him any encouragement. Really, it’s hard to imagine he will ever grow into a responsible adult. He’s twenty-three, but he has the harebrained notions of a thirteen-year-old!”
“How so?” William asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Well, there is his infamous trip to Morocco. I am not against missions, sir. Let me tell you that our parents were missionaries to Antigua before George was born. But George does everything to extreme. He took all the money he had to his name—a grand sum of twenty pounds—and bought a steamship ticket to Morocco. When he got there, he made a banner that read, ‘Repentance, Faith, Holiness,’ and walked the marketplaces holding it high above his head.” The Reverend Railton paused for a moment before he went on. “Of course he ran out of money in the end, but he kept parading that foolish banner, with nowhere to stay and no food to eat. Thank goodness the British consul got wind of his predicament and insisted he stop making such an exhibition of himself and shipped him back to England on the first available steamer.”
“He sounds like a dedicated young man!” William said. “What is he doing now?”
Launcelot Railton snickered. “He’s living in Middlesbrough, preaching every Sunday in, of all things, a butcher’s shop! He goes in after the shop is closed on Saturday afternoon and scrubs down the chopping block so that he can use it as a pulpit. Can you imagine that?” He looked at William and continued dryly. “Well, I imagine you can! He talks of becoming a Methodist minister, but I doubt we would take him on. Far too radical…unbalanced, really.”
The two men then sat in silence, steam from the bath wafting up between them.
In the weeks that followed, William often thought back to the conversation and wondered about George Railton and his efforts at evangelism. Just after New Year’s, he found out firsthand. It was late at night, and William had just finished preaching when a young man waving a copy of How to Reach the Masses emerged from the crowd.
“I have to talk to you, Reverend Booth!” the young man called to William. “I have read this book many times, and I am convinced you and your East London Christian Missionaries are the people for me.”
William studied the young man as he pushed through the crowd to the front. The young man, who was tall and stocky with piercing blue eyes and an auburn beard, took off his hat when he reached William. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am George Railton.”
“Would you be the brother of the Reverend Launcelot Railton?” William asked.
The young man stepped back. “Yes,” he said, and then added hastily, “but we have very differing views on missionary work.”
“I am sure you do,” William said. “Tell me, George, where are you staying tonight?”
“I don’t have anywhere particular in mind,” George replied.
“Then you must come and meet my wife and spend the night with us,” William said.
William and George walked back to the Booth home on Gore Road together. George talked enthusiastically most of the way, explaining that William’s pamphlet had convinced him he belonged among the East London Christian Mission workers.
William had meant for George to stay at his house for only a few days, but much to his surprise he discovered that the young man had an amazing knack for office work. Within a week George had rearranged the filing system for the mission’s office and put the regular bills in order. As William watched George work, he knew one thing—he had found the private secretary he so desperately needed.
The two youngest Booth children were moved into the attic. George was then given their bedroom as his own and a hearty welcome into the noisy Booth household, which by now included not only a dog but also white mice, guinea pigs, birds, and even a pet monkey named Little Jeannie.
Within a short time George understood William’s ideas on evangelism, especially the notion that it was not money that would reach the poor masses in England. Only the poor themselves, motivated by the love and power of God, could do that. The East London Christian Mission’s job was to mobilize the poor to reach out to each other. Understanding this, George was able to help write the hundreds of letters that took up much of William’s time. He also threw his enthusiasm behind the mission’s small newsletter, now called the Christian Mission Magazine. Within a year the publication had doubled in size and subscriptions.
William tried not to dictate the tone of the magazine, and soon George was sprinkling it with military terms. The Civil War in America had ended eight years before, but it was still fresh enough in the public’s mind to give military words and phrases an air of excitement. So instead of writing about opening a new preaching station at Southsea Common, George wrote about “the opening of a new battery of artillery on Southsea Common” that would no doubt “develop into a regiment.” William approved of these phrases when he read them and even more so of a new song George published, entitled “Our War Song.”
George also reported on the many new developments in the mission. Some of them happened so quickly that it was difficult for William to keep up with them all. There was a new Whitechapel People’s Hall, seating two thousand people, while a beerhouse and brewery in Stoke Newington were purchased and turned into a preaching center. And on Bethnal Green permission was granted for a huge railway arch to be bricked in and the space used for evangelism. Other branches of the mission were opened in Hastings, Tunbridge Wells, and Northumberland. It was obvious that the East London Christian Mission was reaching out and “occupying much enemy territory.” The mission also expanded into the poorest cities of Wales.
During this time of exhilarating expansion, one sad event occurred. In January 1875 William’s mother, Mary, died after being bedridden for several years following a fall. Even though she was eighty-four years old, William felt sure she could have lived much longer had it not been for the accident. His sister Emma had died four years earlier, leaving only his sister Mary alive.
By 1876 William and the mission were recruiting an ever-growing number of converts, and because of this, William was always on the lookout for potential evangelists. On a warm night in August he had just finished preaching at the Whitechapel People’s Hall when he came face-to-face with one of the most dynamic men he had ever met. The man introduced himself as “Fiery Elijah” Cadman, and he immediately reminded William of a coiled watch spring—ready to burst forth at any moment. He was wearing a well-cut suit and a tall silk hat, but those symbols of middle-class respectability did not hide his cockney accent.
“You might have heard about me,” Elijah told William. “Around Warwickshire I’m known as ‘The Saved Sweep from Rugby.’”
“Is that so?” William replied. “Tell me more.”
Soon the two men were sitting on a bench, where Elijah poured out his story. His father had hired him at age six to a chimney sweep, and at 4 A.M. each day, Elijah donned a calico mask and was hoisted up some well-to-do person’s fireplace to scrape the soot off the insides of the chimney. It was frightening work for a young child, and Elijah often lost his footing and crashed down into the fire grate below. From the very beginning, his employer paid him with beer, and Elijah seldom went home sober.
At eighteen years of age, Elijah was far too large to climb around inside chimneys, and he had turned to a life of prize boxing to feed himself. During that time he went to see a public hanging at the Warwick jail. As he saw the criminal swaying from the hangman’s noose, he was struck by the thought that if he did not change his ways, he could well face the same fate. Without any further prompting, Elijah surrendered his life to God and set about preaching to his friends. Over time he had married and built up a small business. His brother-in-law told him about William Booth, and Elijah declared that he was anxious to join the mission.
William listened carefully to all the young man had to say and then invited him to preach at a meeting in Wellingborough. The event was a wonderful success. William was astonished at how well this short, stocky man could hold an audience spellbound—especially after he “read” from an upside-down Bible. It turned out that Elijah could not read a word but had memorized large portions of Scripture to preach from and would hold an open Bible up to give the illusion that he was reading from it. He did not always hold it up the right way, however. As he preached, he was in constant motion, even straddling the penitent rail as he made the point that it is difficult to sit on the fence, being a Christian but not one who truly puts God first in his or her life. Just as he had with George Railton, William soon became convinced that Elijah Cadman would prove to be a special asset to the mission.
Just over a year later, in October 1877, Elijah was preaching in the small Yorkshire town of Whitby. William took the train north to visit him there. When he arrived, he found that “Captain Cadman,” as he now called himself, was “waging war with the Hallelujah Army” and that he had over three thousand followers. William was most impressed with this, and he soon noticed how much the poorest fishermen and factory workers rallied to the same sort of military language George Railton had introduced in the mission’s magazine. Posters around town announced, “WAR! WAR! 200 MEN AND WOMEN WANTED AT ONCE TO JOIN THE HALLELUJAH ARMY.” Another read, “THE MIDDLESBRO’ ARTILLERY IS TO ARRIVE AT 9:30 A.M. WITH THEIR BIG GUNS…AND HOSPITAL FOR THE WOUNDED AND ALL WHO WANT TO BE HEALED FROM SIN.”
William found one more poster stuffed behind a radiator in Elijah’s parlor. It was the most startling of all. In large red letters it declared, “COME AND HEAR THE GENERAL OF THE HALLELUJAH ARMY!” As soon as Elijah returned, William asked him about the hidden poster. “What does it mean?”
