(October, 1882.)
We all remember how that clever showman, Barnum, managed to fan the
Jumbo fever. When the enterprising Yankee writes his true autobiography
we shall doubtless find some extraordinary revelations. Yet Barnum,
after all, makes no pretence of morality or religion. He merely goes in
for making a handsome fortune out of the curiosity and credulity of the
public. If he were questioned as to his principles, he would probably
reply like Artemus Ward--"Princerpuls? I've nare a one. I'm in the show
bizniz."
General Booth is quite as much a showman as Barnum, but he is a pious
showman. He is a perfect master of the vulgar art of attracting fools.
Every day brings a fresh change in his "Walk up, Walk up." Tambourine
girls, hallelujah lasses, converted clowns and fiddlers, sham Italian
organ grinders, bands in which every man plays his own tune, officers in
uniform, Davidic dances, and music-hall tunes, are all served up with
a plentiful supply of blood and fire. The "General" evidently means to
stick at nothing that will draw; and we quite believe that if a pair
of Ezekiel's cherubim were available, he would worry God Almighty into
sending them down for exhibition at the City Road show.
Booth's latest dodge is to say the least peculiar. Most fathers would
shrink from trafficking in a son's marriage, but Booth is above such
nice scruples. The worst deeds are sanctified by love of God, and
religion condones every indecency.
Mr. Bramwell Booth, whom the General has singled out as his apostolic
successor, and heir to all the Army's property, got married last week;
and the pious showman actually exhibited the bridegroom and bride to the
public at a shilling a head. About three hundred pounds were taken at
the doors, and a big collection was made inside. Booth's anxiety for the
cash was very strongly illustrated. Commissioner Bailton, who has had
a very eccentric career, was enjoying his long deferred opportunity of
making a speech, when many of the crowd began to press towards the door.
"Stop," cried Booth, "don't go yet, there's going to be a collection."
But the audience melted faster than ever. Whereupon Booth jumped up
again, stopped poor Railton unceremoniously, and shouted "Hold on, we'll
make the collection now." This little manouvre was quite in keeping
with the showman's instruction to his subalterns, to have plenty of good
strong collecting boxes and pass them round often.
Booth's facetious remarks during his son's marriage according to the
Army forms were well adapted to tickle the ears of his groundlings. The
whole thing was a roaring farce, and well sustained the reputation of
the show. There was also the usual spice of blasphemy. Before Bramwell
Booth marched on to the platform a board was held up bearing the
inscription "Behold the bridegroom cometh." These mountebanks have no
reverence even for what they call sacred. They make everything dance to
their tune. They prostitute "God's Word," caricature Jesus Christ, and
burlesque all the watchwords and symbols of their creed.
One of Booth's remarks after the splicing was finished is full of
suggestion. He said that his enemies might cavil, but he had found out
a road to fortune in this world and the next. Well, the Lord only knows
how he will fare in the next world, but in this world the pious showman
has certainly gained a big success. He can neither write nor preach, and
as for singing, a half a dozen notes from his brazen throat would empty
the place as easily as a cry of "Fire." But he is a dexterous manager;
he knows how to work the oracle; he understands catering for the mob; in
short, he is a very clever showman, who deals in religion just as other
showmen deal in wild animals, giants, dwarfs, two-headed sheep, fat
women, and Siamese twins.
Fortune has brought to our hands a copy of a private circular issued
by "Commissioner" Railton, soliciting wedding presents for Mr. Bramwell
Booth. With the exception of Reuben May's begging letters, it is the
finest cadging document we ever saw. Booth was evidently ashamed to
sign it himself, so it bears the name of Railton. But the pious showman
cannot disown the responsibility for it. He will not allow the officers
of the Army to marry without his sanction; he forbids them to accept
any private present; he keeps a sharp eye on every detail of the
organisation. Surely, then, he will not have the face to say that
he knew nothing of Railton's circular. He has face enough for almost
anything, but hardly for this. There is one damning fact which he cannot
shirk. Bailton asks that all contributions shall be made "payable to
William Booth, as usual."
Bailton spreads the butter pretty freely on Booth and his family. He
says that their devotion to the Army has "loaded them with care, and
often made them suffer weakness and pain." As to Mr. Bramwell Booth,
in particular, we are informed that he has worked so hard behind the
scenes, as Chief of the Staff, that many of his hairs are grey at
twenty-seven. Poor Bramwell! The Army should present him with a dozen
bottles of hair restorer. Perhaps his young wife will renew his raven
head by imitating the lady in the fable, and pulling out all the grey
hairs.
In order to compensate this noble family in some degree for their
marvellous devotion to the great cause, Bailton proposes that wedding
presents _in the shape of cash_ should be made to Mr. Bramwell Booth on
the day of his marriage. Whatever money is received will go, not to the
young gentleman personally, but to reducing the Army debt of £11,000.
But as the Army property is all in Booth's hands, and Mr. Bramwell is
his _heir_ and successor, it is obvious that any reduction of the debt
will be so much clear gain to the firm.
The General evidently saw that the case was a delicate one; so Bailton
sends out a private circular, which he excuses on the ground that
"any public appeal would not be at all agreeable to Mr. Bramwell's own
feelings." Of course not. But we dare say the wedding presents will
be agreeable enough. As this is a strong point with the firm, Bailton
repeats it later on. "I do not wish," he says, "to make any public
announcement of this." The reason of this secrecy is doubtless the same
as that which prompts the General to exclude reporters and interlopers
from his all-night meetings. Only the initiated are allowed in, and they
of course may be safely trusted.
With the circular Bailton sent out envelopes in which the pious dupes
were to forward their contributions; and printed slips, headed "Wedding
Presents to Mr. Bramwell Booth," on which they were asked to specify
the amount of their gift and the sin from which the Salvation Army had
rescued them. This printed slip contains a list of sins, which would do
credit to a Jesuit confessor. Booth has we think missed his vocation. He
might have achieved real distinction in the army of Ignatius Loyola.
The circular is a wonderful mixture of piety and business. Nearly every
sentence contains a little of both. The cash will not only gladden the
hearts of the Booths, but "make the devil tremble," and "give earth and
hell another shock." This last bit of extravagance is rather puzzling.
That hell should receive another shock is very proper, but why is there
to be an earthquake at the same time?
We have said enough to show the true character of this cadging trick.
It throws a strong light on the business methods of this pious showman.
Booth is playing a very astute game. By reducing the Army to military
discipline, and constituting himself its General, he retains an absolute
command over its resources, and is able to crush out all opposition and
silence all criticism. He wields a more than Papal despotism. All the
higher posts are held by members of his own family. His eldest son is
appointed as his successor. The property thus remains in the family, and
the Booth dynasty is established on a solid foundation. Such an impudent
imposture would scarcely be credible if it were not patent that there is
still amongst us a vast multitude of two-legged sheep, who are ready
to follow any plausible shepherd, and to yield up their fleeces to his
shears.