Booths’ not-so-secret weapon, used time and again to extraordinary effect as trailblazers in commencing new operations. Social mores of the time deemed that work and the public sphere were the domain of men, while women belonged (or were imprisoned) in the home and private sphere, being considered emotional, morally weak creatures incapable of rational thought. Catherine Booth had long challenged the fatuous chauvinist notions that underlay the exploitation of her gender, debunking them through her own highly successful ministry. Inspired by his wife, William did not hesitate to take clever advantage of male prejudice and many a gifted woman, longing to prove herself – yet hitherto destined to become an adornment of some man’s respectable home – was given a bonnet and Bible and sent out, as a Hallelujah Lassie, into the most vile and corrupt corners of the cities. The novelty value of those Salvationist women was an irresistible magnet to the people and the sight of their Christian beauty in the most ugly of environments was a sermon in itself. The Hallelujah Lasses in Glasgow were Sister Eliza Milner and Sister Prentice and their first reports to William Booth, though brief, were informative. Eliza wrote: ‘Glad to tell you we had a pretty good opening, though not so good as I would have liked, but we had good open-air meetings. Bless God for what he has done already. Fifteen came out to my loving Saviour, and found peace.’ The next day she was disappointed to report ‘no souls inside’ but, as to Tuesday: ‘I am so glad to tell you better news. Last night we had a grand time of it; twenty-one precious souls came to Jesus. More people last night. Collection better.’ The work took root and grew despite opposition from certain sectors. After ten days Eliza wrote: ‘Fourteen souls for Jesus. Collection 8s 2d. Bless God for ever. I talked about Holiness the other night….’ Then the next day: ‘Last night it was a real old hallelujah meeting. Bless God, five souls. Collection 15s… We are so troubled with the roughs. This will be a grand station, I believe.’ The disturbers, in fact, managed to stop some people from entering the hall the following Sunday, but reporting on the Thursday, Sister Milner was so excited that she forgot to mention the collection: ‘Large congregation, and quite a break down. Twenty-one precious souls – fine big Scotchmen and women – seeking Jesus.’ The Salvationist concluded its reports from Eliza with a daring declaration of faith: ‘The Salvation Army has crossed the border. May God subdue all on both sides of the Tweed to Himself. He will. God save Scotland!’ Having successfully begun the work, Sisters Milner and Prentice were soon replaced by two more Hallelujah Lasses: Nellie and Suie Cope, who presumably were sisters. After a month, writing from 131 Main Street, Anderston, they sent their first report to London: ‘Hallelujah! The past month has been one of power and real blessing; in point of number the meetings have been a thorough success. As many people attend as we can well command, and although some of the rougher order have repeatedly tried to disturb us, the whole of our gatherings have been moderately quiet of late. Our hall, which accommodates 2,000, has been filled on Sunday, while during the week the attendance will average 900. The after meeting has always been very blessed and productive of the best results. Very many helpless sinners each evening find their way to the penitent form… Glory to our King! 25 and 30 in a night profess to get blessedly saved.’9 They went on to commend the pluck of the converts who boldly confessed their faith in the street meetings and processions. On account of ‘the satanic element’ which prevailed in the district, those gatherings were frequently the object of abuse, ridicule and violence and, on one occasion, one of the Hallelujah Lasses was herself knocked to the ground, but rose to sing triumphantly, ‘I do believe, I will believe, that Jesus died for me’. But the attacks and disturbances did not always go unpunished: in June, Alex Stewart, who had disturbed a meeting, was sentenced to a fortnight’s imprisonment and in 1881 and 1882 The Scotsman reported the convictions of well over a dozen men for assaults on Salvationists or disorderly conduct in Army meetings. Of the converts it was later said: ‘Nearly the whole of those who have been reached by our agency were, previous to their conversions, given to drink in some degree or other, and a large proportion, alas were known as drunkards.’ This was hardly surprising, for 50 years earlier it had been estimated that the average Scot aged over 15 drank almost a pint of whisky per week and, although alcohol abuse was mainly a male vice, by no means were women averse to drink. Both Edinburgh and Glasgow had a pub for every 130 people and, in addition, there were scores of shops that sold drink, not to mention 9
The Salvationist, 1/7/1879, p.178.
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