THE BISHOP DURING WARTIME
It was a singular thing that in 1909 the Bishop of London issued a
volume of addresses entitled “Into the Fighting Line.” He little
dreamed that five years later that title would have to represent the
attitude of the whole nation and of himself as one of its prominent
leaders. It was so. In 1914 the Great War began, and the testing time
of the Church came. It had to inspire the nation to a high-minded line
of policy, to fill the sailors and soldiers with fortitude and courage,
to give them abundant provision for the spiritual and sacramental help
they needed; to set an example of self-sacrificing service; to visit
the sick and wounded; to comfort mourners who were at home and to
lead day and night the intercessions of the people. The Church rose
nobly to the call. Within the first fortnight of the war, in addition
to those who placed their services at the disposal of the Admiralty,
it offered two thousand men to the War Office to be Chaplains--that
is, to share the risk of danger and death with the rest of the Army.
Further, the Church encouraged every young man under its influence to
volunteer at once as a duty to God. Seventy per cent. of the new army
were Churchmen. The Bishop himself was not long before he paid a visit
to the Front; and spent two months in visiting the camps at home; but
he declared that “I look upon the nine and a half months spent at the
daily grind of Diocesan work as far more ‘heroic’--if such a word is to
be used at all.”
During his visit to the Front in August and September of 1914, he spent
every day with his own men--the Rifle Brigade of which he was the Hon.
Chaplain.
From the very beginning, the Bishop in his public addresses, sounds
a clarion note of conviction as to the righteousness of the cause of
the Allies, and in the strength of that conviction urged upon all to
take some personal part in the struggle. The addresses he published in
1915 will be a storehouse of incident and statement for some future
historian to draw upon, when he seeks information as to the point of
view of our nation during the struggle, and the ways and habits of the
soldiers.
During all this time and the years of protracted struggle which
followed, he was busy holding quiet days for the clergy at home on
the one hand, and organising help for those abroad on the other. He
had to face the problems in the Churches at home, whose finances were
depleted, whose congregations were thinned down; and to find a sweet
reasonable faith for those who were in the audiences, which would
enable them to go on when there seemed nothing for them to go on
for. He did it and laboured through the wearying days because of his
absolute conviction that the Allies were fighting for the cause of “The
Nailed Hand against the mailed fist.”
At a great meeting at the Guildhall, the Bishop of London said, after
he had listened to the addresses of the Statesmen, who were with him
on the platform: “The Church is behind the nation in this war, and I
am prepared to offer to place the whole organisation of the Church in
London at the disposal of the Government.”
As for the impression that he produced while he was in France, we have
the testimony of the Field-Marshal Commanding in the Field at the
Front, who wrote:
“The Bishop of London arrived here and left during April. During
the course of his visit his Lordship was at the Front every day,
and I think I am right in saying that there was scarcely a unit
in the Command which was not at one time or other present at his
services. Personal fatigue and even danger was completely ignored
by his Lordship. The Bishop held several services virtually under
shell-fire, and it was with difficulty that he could be prevented
from carrying on his ministrations under rifle-fire in the trenches.
“I am anxious to place on record my deep sense of the good effect
produced throughout the Army by the self-sacrificing devotion on the
part of the Bishop of London, to whom I feel personally very deeply
indebted.”
Out yonder at the Front, as he passed through the trenches, there was
one touching incident which connected him with his old days at Bethnal
Green. One young man, little more than a boy, who was carried in from
the trenches shot through the shoulder, and who was being carried to
hospital, held out his arm to the Bishop with a radiant smile. The
Bishop thought for a moment that he was in a delirium, but he turned
out to be an East End lad, a communicant in the old Bethnal Green
Church, who saw the Bishop passing, and knew him at once, and thus
welcomed him.
In the lines at the Front the Bishop made a great point of regarding
himself as having a first call upon all his efforts from the
London Rifle Brigade, and insisted upon keeping his time free for
administering Holy Communion to them. But, none the less, he placed
himself at the disposal of many others, and amongst those others
were the Canadians. The Bishop, owing to his previous visits to the
Dominion of Canada, was well known to many of the Canadian soldiers,
and he once took occasion to address the troops from the balcony of
the Town Hall in the town where they were located. There were 10,000
of the Canadians, and the volume of welcoming sound which greeted him
indicated their cheery recognition.
“This is a sight,” he began, “which reminds me of Montreal and Toronto!”
“How about Winnipeg?” several shouted.
The Bishop was not slow to let them know that we in Great Britain
rejoiced to feel that the men of Canada and Great Britain were standing
shoulder to shoulder.
They cheered.
“Yes, you may cheer that,” he replied.
He passed on to speak of the great cause of Freedom for the world for
which they were fighting, and they cheered again.
“Yes, you may cheer that too!” he cried, “while I get breath again.”
And then, after he had turned to deeper thoughts, he closed by adding:
“Now, we will say together the Lord’s Prayer.”
The sound of the deep-toned voices of the men as they uttered the words
was like the voice of many waters. Then, in absolute silence, the
Bishop gave the blessing, and as he left the balcony a Staff Officer
turned to the Bishop’s Chaplain, and said:
“That is a really great man!”
That was the impression he produced upon all with whom he met.
Probably it was deepened by the sight of his lifeguardsman height and
princely presence; but it was chiefly occasioned by the simplicity and
directness and simplicity of his speech and the winning nature of his
ways.
So the years passed, and at length there came the day when the Great
City of which he was Bishop met for thanksgiving in St. Paul’s
Cathedral; and once more the Bishop was able to confine his attentions
to the ever old problems of his diocese; with those added which now
emerged in the time of unsettlement of all classes, which has ever
since followed the war.