-------..-- • A CURATE'S PROMISE '' A STORY OF THREE WEEKS (SEPTEMBER 14-0CTOBER 5, 1917) BY JOHN LAW WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY GENERAL BOOTH HODDER AND STOUGHTON LIMITED : 1921 : LONDON INTRDDUCTION HERE is a story of considerable human interest covering three crowded weeks in the life of a young Curate of the Church of England. Amongst other things depicted in the story, the author has iucidentally presented a living picture of the remarkable way in which The Salvation Army is touching and influencing the life of the people iu many classes. I feel that there is in these pages strong encouragement for all who are interested in the progress of the work of Jesus Christ, 1. particularly amongst the common people. BRAMWELL BOOTH. LONDON, E. C. 4 . • April, 1921. • • CONTENTS CHAPTER I OHAl':lEB PA.GE A LETTER FROM FRANCE I. A LETTER FROM FRANCE; 1 II. UPSET BY THE WAR 5 FRANCE, Ill. THE BEGINNING OF THINGS 12 September 14, 1917. IV. A CITY COLONY 18 DEAR BENJAMIN,-Herewith I send you a blank V. AMONG THE SALVATIONISTS 26 cheque, which please fill in and forward to the VI. UNCLE J"AMES 37 right quarter, when you have read this letter. VII. BOMBS ON WHITECHAPEL 47 A fortnight ago I was on my way to London with VIII. A SALVATION ARMY BONNET 56 dispatches, and in the middle of the night my car IX. THE J,JEUTENANT' S STORY 67 broke down and I had to foot it to Boulogne, through X. MIDNIGHT WORK 74 country known to me only by the map. I lost my way, XI. THE SLUM SISTERS 83 and wandered about, finding most people asleep and XII. A CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR 93 some dozing who ought to have been awake; and in the small hours of the morning I came to a place that XIII. DEEDS JAIL 98 called itself a town, and there I ran into an over­ XIV. IN THE TRAIN 104 zealous Tommy, who wanted to shoot me. xv. SALVATION ARMY OFFICERS 108 Tommy was so much upset when he discovered his XVI. THREE GENERATIONS OF SALVATIONISTS 116 125 mistake, that I could get nothing out of him for a time; XVII. THE C.O's ADVICE but at last I made him understand that I had lost my MEETING 133 XVIII. A SALVATION ARMY way, that I was hungry and thirsty, and that if I 141 XIX. BACK IN LONDON could not get something to eat and drink his King and 147 XX. FOLKESTONE country would suffer. Then he took me to a Salvation Army hut, where I managed to wake up the manager of the place; and half an hour afterwards I was eating eggs and bacon and talking to the Salvation Army man, who proved to be quite an interesting person. 2 A. CURATE'S PROMISE A. LETTER FROM FRANCE 3 A.nd now comes the curious part of my story. else, you are upset by the war. There never was a When I asked to pay for the midnight meal the Salva­ war like this war, for every one, and everything, seems tionist pointed to a tariff hanging on a wall, and to go into it. refused to take more than a Tommy would have given I wish you could be with us in France, for we are him in the middle of the day. 'I got up because you all here now but yourself and that young blighter had lost your way and were hungry, not because you who calls himself ' a conscientious objector,' and who are a staff officer,' he said. ' I1will walk with you to is in Deeds jail-the pr_oper place for him ! Boulogne, if you like.' · But, of course, the only way that you could come A.nd so he did; and thanks to him and his eggs here would be as an army chaplain. Have you asked and bacon I caught the boat train, and arrived to time the Bishop about \bat? I don't think he would refuse in London. anything to a member of tbe fighting Digby family Now, apart from that little personal experience, I -do you? If you like, I will write to him myself. would like to show my appreciation of the good work He knows tbat you are to have the family living when the Salvation A.rmy people are doing in France. uncle James has finished with it. 'rheir huts are well managed and very popular with Evelyn says uncle J ames is getting shaky, and the boys, who say that the home-cooking is what they means to resign after the war is over. Seems he asked like, buns and scones baked on the premises, to say for help a short time ago; but the Bishop said there nothing of fried fish. Only yesterday I saw dozens of are not enough curates to go round, and hinted that Tommies running out of a Salvation A.rmy hut, and if he can't look after a parish of three hundred people, nearly every one of them had the tail of a herring he had better let some one else do it. hanging out of his mouth! Now, Benjamin, as you are doing nothing in Then the Salvation Army men make good soldiers. particular, I think it is up to you to help uncle James. They will go anywhere and do anything. They excel You need not stay with him at the Vicarage, for Evelyn as stretcher-bearers; in fact, a doctor here says that will, I know, be only too glad to have you at the they ' juggle with death.' I am glad that the Victoria Mallows. She is far from well, poor girl. I went Cross has been given to a Salvation A.rmy stretcher­ home for a few hours when I brought over the bearer. dispatches, and I was shocked to see the change in So fill in my cheque for the amount you think fit; Evelyn. This war comes hardest on the women. We and send it to the Salvation A.rmy with my good men have change and excitement; but tbe women, wishes and thanks. poor things, must jog on alone, waiting for letters that A.nd now, Benjamin, what about yourself? Evelyn are often lost in the post, and having always the tells me that you have given up your curacy, and you fear of a War Office telegram hanging over their are now in London. Well, I suppose, like every one heads. 4 A CURATE'S PROMISE So, Benjamin, go to the Mallows, help uncle James, say cheerio to Evelyn, and keep an eye on the pheasants. All the gamekeepers have been called up, and Evelyn writes that the farmers are shooting the partridges. Ever since Brown left the Mallows things there have been upside down. He was determined to CHAPTER II join up, and although he was (lver military age when UPSET -BY THE wAR I engaged him as an agent, they have taken him now, and he has been sent to the Isle of Man, to help with THE Rev. Benjamin Digby was having breakfast the German prisoners. in a London hotel when his brother's letter Of course, you can't remain idle at a time like this reached him. A pert-looking little waitress brought -I am sure you yourself would not wish it. So go to it with coffee, toast, and a small slice of ham, and laid the Mallows for a few weeks; and if you ' tip me the it on his plate, saying:- wink,' as old farmer Jones puts it, I will bring pressure ' Something from France!' to bear on the Bishop, and you shall be out here before He read the letter twice, looked at the blank cheque, Christmas. and then put the letter and the cheque in his pocket. Your affectionate brother, After he had finished breakfast and lighted a cigarette, he walked to an open window and looked LIONEL DIGBY. down on the Thames embankment, where an autumn wind was busy with falling leaves and naked branches of mottled trees pointed to a round, red sun in a dull, cloudy sky. He was a tall, well-built young man, very straight and upright. Thick, fair hair fell on his forehead, and he pushed it back from time to time while watching a barge, with a red sail, making its way slowly towards Westminster bridge. A clear skin, together with a mop of yellow hair, gave him a boyish appearance, and although he had been ordained in 1914 he looked little more than twenty years old. His grey eyes had a straightforward, steadfast expression; and if his mouth was too sensitive, then a strong chin made up for that defect. He was clean-shaven, like most 6 A CURATE'S PROMISE UPSET BY THE WAR 7 modern young clergymen, and he wore a clerical collar ' Why did she ask for that promise?' and a grey morning suit. ' And why did I give it?' he asked himself. While looking out of the window, Digby wished, Impatiently, almost angrily, he drew inside the with all his heart, that he were a French priest, one room and shut the window with a bang. Then he took who by the law of his country must go into the army up a white straw hat, with a black band round it, and and fight in war-time, like any other man. went out of the hotel and into the Strand. ' If only the Bishop wouldf let me join up for the Heavy rain was falling; so he turned into Charing period of the war!' he said to himself.