WHO WE ARE HISTORY
Forged in the fires of
persecution The suffering of early Salvationists
I
t’s springtime and your local Salvation Army is about to have an outdoor Christian worship service. Just imagine: you meet at a bandstand in a nearby park or in a bustling town square. The band sets up and then plays a few introductory notes to warm their instruments. The audio/visual person quickly connects a microphone, a small soundboard, and a pair of speakers. As the band plays, a few passersby approach, sit on nearby park benches, chat quietly, and listen to the music. The melodies are followed by a Scripture reading, a guitar and vocal duet, and then a short devotional by the speaker. The listeners, who cycle in and out, are greeted by Salvationists who engage them in conversation as they offer SACONNECTS magazines and other literature. They tell them about the services that are available through their local Salvation Army. Later, after hearing the closing song and prayer, the church folk pack everything away. They thank God for allowing them to make a few but precious contacts. They’ve enjoyed an exciting experience, to say the least. After all, what’s better than an open–air service?
Growing pains Now, go back in time and imagine yourself at a Salvation Army open–air service in the 1880s. This band is led by a 19–year– old pastor. Dressed in her blue uniform, she marches out of the church hall and into the street, to the beat of a bass drum. A small band of Salvationists, also in blue, follow her to the town center. As they pass a tavern, men with eyes made red from drink, watch. They and other men in public houses quickly file out after the marchers. Grinning wickedly, they descend on
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the Salvationists and block their path. But in response, the band, that has been playing brass instruments for only a week or two, strikes up a tune. As their strain of “Onward Christian Soldiers” fills the air, a man from the tavern grabs a horn from one of the players, and throws it in the mud. Another bleary–eyed drunkard rips the flag from the corps sergeant major’s (deacon) hands. Undaunted, the teenaged corps officer bravely plants her feet in front of the two biggest ruffians, and prays. In a surprisingly loud, confident voice, she asks God to change the hearts of these people. But even as she prays, a well–aimed bottle strikes the trombone player. He rubs his head in pain. Despite the mob’s egging, no fists are raised in retaliation from the men and women in blue. Instead, the Salvationists form a circle and pray even more. This is what open–air ministry looked like in the early days. It is quite a contrast between then and now. Back then, open–air work was brutal. Yet, the Army was refined in those fires of persecution. As one of the most trusted charitable organizations in America today, many people are surprised to learn that The Salvation Army was once a persecuted movement. Born in London’s East End, William Booth’s Christian Mission (a precursor to The Salvation Army), provoked the ire of many a violent mob. Such opposition intensified when, in 1878, Salvationists, under the newly formed banner of The Salvation Army, began to wear uniforms, and attracted even greater attention from people who were spoiling for a fight.
The Skeleton Army In England there arose an organized movement whose very existence was to harass
by ROB JEFFERY
and attack the ever–growing Salvation Army. In mockery, they styled themselves as the “Skeleton Army,” whose motto of “beef, beer, and bacca (tobacco),” countered the Salvationist’s motto of “soup, soap, and salvation.” While most skeleton army groups were formed by beer brewers and tavern owners, called publicans, some were organized by high–ranking members of society such as the mayors of Eastbourne and Folkestone. A book from long ago entitled The Old Corps, by Edward Joy, tells the harrowing story of the soldiers of Folkestone who battled the Skeletons frequently, as the latter group tried to steal the local Army’s flag. Sometimes the physical assaults were so severe that some Salvationists were swiftly and tragically “promoted to Glory.” In 1889, Salvationist Susannah Beaty became the Army’s first martyr. Members of a mob in Hastings, England hit her with a rock and violently kicked her in the stomach. She died soon after from her injuries. At first, the police did little to protect Salvationists from the horrific violence of the mobs. In many cases they arrested the peaceful soldiers and officers whom they blamed for agitating the townspeople with their marching in the streets and open–air music. Journalist Bethan Bell (BBC News), in a story about the Skeleton Army in the UK entitled “Menace to sobriety: when Salvationists fought Skeletons,” notes how the English right to freedom of expression came about when they began to challenge in court the arrest of Salvationists. Bell wrote that the police tried to “… ban marching with music on a Sunday because it attracted Skeleton troublemakers. But it was later ruled that a lawful activity (marching with music on a Sunday) was not
Volume 9 Number 3, 2023