THE GREAT MEETING
'Can't we go down to Devonshire to-night?' cried Edgecumbe, as our
train reached London.
'Impossible, my dear fellow,' I replied.
'But why not?' and I could see by the wild longing look in his eyes
what he was thinking of.
'Oh, there are a dozen reasons. For one thing, she may not be able to
get away from the hospital; for another--I don't think it would be
wise.'
'I simply must go, Luscombe! I tell you something's going to happen,
something great. I feel it in every breath I draw. We must go--go at
once.'
'No,' I replied. 'I wrote her last night, and told her that we should
step in London at the National Hotel till we heard from her. If she
wants us to come we shan't be long in getting her reply.'
He gave a long quivering sigh, and I could see how disappointed he was,
but he said no more about the matter, and when we arrived at the hotel
he had seemed to have forgotten all about it.
'Look here,' he cried, pointing to a paragraph in an evening newspaper,
'that's on the right lines. I'm going.'
The paragraph which interested him was a notice of a big meeting that
was to be held that night for the purpose of discussing certain phases
of the Army, and consequently of the war, about which newspapers were
usually silent. The fact that a Cabinet Minister of high rank, as well
as a renowned general, were announced to speak, however, caused the
news editor to give it prominence.
'It's on the right lines,' he repeated. 'Yes, I'm going.'
'Better go to some place of amusement,' I suggested.
'Nero fiddled while Rome was burning,' was his reply.
A little later we found our way to a huge hall where some thousands of
people had gathered. It was evident that the subject to be discussed
appealed strongly to a large portion of the population, and that the
audience was much interested in the proceedings.
I could see, however, that Edgecumbe was disappointed in the meeting.
None of the speakers spoke strongly and definitely. Each enlarged on
the difficulties of the situation, and spoke of the impossibility of
making men pure by Act of Parliament, but no suggestion was made
whereby the evils mentioned might be grappled with and strangled.
While all admitted that a frightful state of things existed, and
declared that something ought to be done, no one had the courage to
demand drastic reforms, or strike a prophetic note. The Cabinet
Minister enlarged in a somewhat stilted fashion upon what the
Government had done to check drunkenness, while another speaker told of
the magnificent work of the Y.M.C.A., and of the hostels and huts which
had been provided, both in England and on the Continent; but all felt
that the heart of the matter had not been touched. It was not until
the General spoke that the audience was anything like aroused, and even
he failed to get at close quarters with the evils which all admitted.
Indeed I, who could not see how more could be done than had been done,
felt that the meeting was a failure, and as, when the General sat down,
the reporters were preparing to leave, and the audience grew restless,
I felt that the whole thing was in the nature of a fiasco.
'Let's go, Edgecumbe,' I said.
'No, not yet,' and I saw that he was much excited.
'But the meeting is practically over. There, the chairman is going to
call on somebody to propose the usual vote of thanks.'
But he took no notice of me. Instead he rose to his feet, and his
voice rang clearly throughout the hall.
'My lord,' he said addressing the chairman, 'I am a soldier just home
from the front. May I say a few words?'
It was only then that I realized what a striking figure Edgecumbe was,
and although I was almost stunned by his sudden action, I could not
help comparing him, as he was now, with the first occasion on which I
had seen him. Then, with his nondescript garments, his parchment-like
skin, and the look of wistful indecision in his eyes, he was a creature
to be pitied. Now, in the uniform of a major, he stood stalwart and
erect. In spite of the fact that his left arm was in a sling, there
was something commanding in his attitude. His eyes no longer suggested
indecision, and his bronzed skin was no longer wrinkled and parchment
like. He looked what he was--a tall, strong, capable man, instinct
with life and energy.
There was something, too, in the tones of his voice that aroused the
interest of the audience, and thousands of eyes were turned towards him.
The chairman adjusted his eye-glasses, and looked at Edgecumbe, who
still stood erect, the cynosure of all eyes.
'I am sure,' said the chairman, 'that in spite of the fact that it is
growing late, we shall be glad to hear a few words from a soldier just
back from the front. Will he kindly come to the platform.'
The audience, doubtless noting Edgecumbe's wounded arm, gave him a
cheer as he left his seat, while the reporters, probably hoping for
something good in the way of copy, again opened their note-books.
'I asked permission to say a few words, my lord,' he said, 'because I
have been deeply disappointed in this meeting. This is a great
audience, and it is a great occasion; that is why the lack of an
overwhelming conviction, the lack too of anything like vision of the
inwardness of the problem under discussion is so saddening. I had
hoped for a message to the heart of the nation; I had waited to hear
the Voice of God, without which all such gatherings as this must be in
vain.'
He hesitated a second, and I feared lest he had lost thread of his
thought, feared too lest after his somewhat flamboyant commencement his
appearance would be only a fiasco. I saw, too, that the chairman
looked at him doubtfully, and I had a suspicion that he was on the
point of asking him to sit down.
But his hesitation was only for a moment. He threw back his shoulders
as though he were on the battlefield and was about to give an important
command.
'I speak as one who has been a soldier in the ranks, and who knows the
soldier's hardships, his temptations, his sufferings. I also speak as
one who knows what a fine fellow the British soldier is, for believe me
there are no braver men beneath God's all-beholding sun than our lads
have proved themselves to be.'
He had struck the right note now, and the audience responded warmly.
There was something magnetic in Edgecumbe's presence, too, something in
his voice which made the people listen.
'I want to say something else, before getting to that which is in my
heart to say,' he went on. 'We are fighting for something great, and
high and holy. We are contending against tyranny, lies, savagery.
Never did a nation have a greater, grander cause than we, and if
Germany were to win----'
In a few sentences he outlined the great issues at stake and made the
audience see as he saw. It was evident, too, that the occupants of the
platform became aware that a new force was at work.
Then followed the greatest scene I have ever seen at any public
gathering. For some time Edgecumbe seemed to forget who he was, or to
whom he spoke; he was simply carried away by what seemed to him the
burning needs of the times. He spoke of the way thousands of young
fellows were ruined, and of the facilities which existed for their
ruin. He told of scenes he had seen in France, scenes which took place
when the men were 'back for rest,' and were 'out for a good time.' He
described what we had witnessed together in London. He showed, too, in
burning words that the two outstanding evils, 'Drink and Impurity,'
were indissolubly associated, and that practically nothing was done to
stem the tide of impurity and devilry which flowed like a mighty flood.
'I say this deliberately,' he said, 'it is nothing short of a blood-red
crime, it is blasphemy against the Holy Spirit of God, to call men from
the four corners of the earth to fight for a great cause like ours, and
then to allow temptations to stand at every corner to lure them to
destruction. Some one has described in glowing terms the work of the
Y.M.C.A., and I can testify the truth of those terms, but ask Y.M.C.A.
workers what is the greatest hindrance to their work, and they will
tell you it is the facilities for drink, drink which so often leads to
impurity, and all the ghastly diseases that follows in its train.
'How can you expect God's blessing to rest upon us, while the souls of
men are being damned in such a way?'
'What would you do?' cried some one, when the wild burst of cheering
which greeted his words ceased.
'Do?' he cried. 'At least every man here can determine, God helping
him, to fight against the greatest foe of our national life. You can
determine that you will leave nothing undone to strangle this deadly
enemy. Personally, after seeing what I have seen, and knowing what I
know, I will make no terms with it. Even now, if a fortune were
offered me, made by drink, I would not benefit by it. But more, you
can besiege the Government, you can give it no rest until it has
removed one of the greatest hindrances to victory.
'What England needs is to realize that God lives, and to turn to Him in
faith and humility. Just so long as we remain in a state of religious
indifference, just so long will the war continue; and just so soon as
we give our lives to Him, and put our trust in Him, just so soon will
victory be seen. God has other ways of speaking than by big guns. God
spoke, and lo, all the pomp of the Czars became the byword of children!
God will speak again, and all the vain glory of the Kaiser will become
as the fairy stories of the past!'
I know that what I have written gives no true idea of Edgecumbe's
message. The words I have set down give but faint suggestions of the
outpourings of a heart charged with a mighty purpose. For he spoke
like a man inspired, and he lifted the whole audience to a higher level
of thought, and life, and purpose. People who had listened with a
bored expression on their faces during the other speeches, were moved
by his burning words. Club loungers who had been cynical and
unbelieving half an hour before, now felt the reality of an unseen
Power.
Then came the climax to all that had gone before. No sooner had
Edgecumbe sat down than the chairman rose again.
'You wonder perhaps,' he said, 'who it is that has been speaking to us.
You know by his uniform that he is a soldier, and you know he is a
brave man by the decoration on his tunic, but few I expect know, as I
have just learnt, that this is Major Edgecumbe, the story of whose
glorious career is given in to-day's newspapers.'
If the meeting was greatly moved before, it now became frenzied in its
enthusiasm. Cheer after cheer rose, while the great audience rose to
its feet. All realized that he spoke not as a theorist and a dreamer,
but as a man who had again and again offered his life for the country
he loved, and the cause in which he believed--a man, not only great in
courage, but skilful in war, and wise in counsel.
When the excitement had somewhat ceased, an old clergyman, who had been
sitting at the back of the platform, came to the front.
'Let us pray,' he said, and a great hush rested on every one, while he
led the multitude in prayer.
When the meeting finally broke up, the General who had spoken earlier
in the evening came and shook Edgecumbe by the hand.
'This meeting is worth more to win the war than an army corps,' he said.