Catherine Booth Part 11

But at last, on October 4, 1890, all could see that she was on the brink of the River, and even those who loved her the most tenderly could not wish to hold her back.

'O Emma, let me go, darling,' she whispered; and hearing the reply, 'Yes, we will, we will,' she said, 'Now! Yes, Lord, come, Oh, come!'

The singing of The Army songs seemed to comfort her; and once she raised her suffering arm, and pointed to the text, '_My grace is sufficient for thee_,' which hung on the wall. It was lifted down and placed at the foot of her bed, so that her eyes could often rest on it during those last hours.

'Soon after noon,' says the present General, 'I felt that the deepening darkness of the Valley was closing around my dear mother, and a little later I took my last farewell. Her lips moved, and she gave me one look of unspeakable tenderness and trust which will live with me for ever.

Again we sang:--

My mistakes His free grace doth cover, My sins He doth wash away; These feet which shrink and falter Shall enter the Gates of Day.

And, holding her hand, The General gave her up to G.o.d. It was a solemn and wonderful scene.'

The Chief of the Staff and Mrs. Bramwell Booth, Mrs. Booth-Tucker, and the Commander, and her three daughters, Marian, Eva, and Lucy, knelt round the bed, upon which were placed photographs of the other members of her family who were unavoidably absent. Near to her stood her faithful nurse, Captain Carr, and others of the household, the dear General bowing over his beloved wife and companion in life's long strife, and giving her up to the keeping of the Father.

One by one the members of the family tenderly embraced her; then a gleam of recognition pa.s.sed over the brightening countenance as The General bent over her. Their eyes met---the last kiss of love on earth, the last word till the Morning, and without a movement the breathing gently ceased, and a warrior laid down her sword to receive her crown.

You may have heard of those wonderful days from Tuesday morning till Sunday night, when the coffin containing the precious remains of our Army Mother lay at the Congress Hall, Clapton, and when more than fifty thousand people came to have a last look at her dear face.

A piece of gla.s.s had been let into the plain oak coffin. It was just large enough to show the head and shoulders, and she lay as if in a sweet sleep.

You wonder if many came merely from curiosity. Some did, of course, but most of the people came because her life and example and words had been so blessed to their souls; and they came as they would come to look at the dead face of their own mother. It was the most wonderful tribute to a woman's life and words that London had ever seen.

For all kinds of people came--rich and poor, good and bad, people of many different religions, and many with no religion at all. Working men came in their dinner-hour, with their tools on their backs and tears in their eyes; mothers lifted up their little children to look at the one who had taught them the way of life; and, best of all, by the side of her coffin knelt many a wanderer and backslider to give themselves afresh to G.o.d.

More than one poor girl went direct from the Congress Hall to the Rescue Homes, to begin to live 'as she would have wished'; and the Cadets on guard were all the time dealing with drunkards and helping those who desired to begin from thenceforth to live a new and different life.

Even to-day, twenty-four years later, we often meet those who date their conversion, or their first step in the Narrow Way, from their look at that face lying in its simple coffin.

One of Mrs. Booth's own grandchildren, Mary, the present General's second daughter, looks back to that scene as the time when G.o.d in an unmistakable manner sealed her as His. She was only five years old as she knelt by the coffin, but nevertheless she decided there, in her childish consecration, like Ruth of old, that 'Thy people shall be my people, and thy G.o.d my G.o.d'; and in the spirit of this consecration she lives to-day.

In order that some of the crowds who wished to share in the funeral service might be present, the largest hall in London, the Olympia, was taken. Twenty-six thousand people filled it; and though it was, of course, impossible for them all to hear, they followed the service given on printed papers with reverent sympathy.

The coffin was carried down the immense hall by Officers; The General and his family followed.

Those who arranged for this last mighty gathering remembered that Mrs.

Booth, when with us, was never happy to leave a Meeting unless it had been brought to a point, and something definite had been done; and therefore, when the songs and prayers and readings were over, the huge crowd was asked to kneel and make a solemn covenant with G.o.d.

It was a beautiful covenant, and ended with these words:--

'And now, in this solemn hour, and in the presence of death, I come again to Thy footstool, and make this covenant with Thee.'

Then all who had made the covenant from their hearts rose and sang together:--

Just as I am Thou dost receive, Dost welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve, Because Thy promise I believe, O Lamb of G.o.d, I come!

It was just such an ending to the wonderful service as our Army Mother would have chosen had she been still on earth with us.

The next morning was dry and bright. 'I shall ask G.o.d to give you a fine day for my funeral, Emma, so that you mayn't take cold,' our Army Mother had said, for she was ever thoughtful for others; and her prayer was answered, for though the white mist crept up from the river to the Embankment, where the procession was forming up, there was no rain nor wind.

Tens of thousands of our dear Soldiers would gladly have sacrificed a day's work in order to follow in the funeral procession of one they so dearly loved; but, so as not to gather too large a crowd, only Officers were allowed in the march, which pa.s.sed through countless throngs of people from International Headquarters to Abney Park Cemetery, a distance of about five miles.

All along the route the crowds stood in dense ma.s.ses, and roofs, windows, and every nook and corner were packed with human beings. Nothing had been seen like it, said the police, since the Duke of Wellington's funeral, forty years before.

It was a wonderful march. I wish you could have seen it! Sometimes it seemed as if every one was weeping; and when the open hea.r.s.e, with its plain oak coffin, crowned by The Army bonnet and well-worn Bible, pa.s.sed, all heads were bared, all voices hushed, and tears filled all eyes.

The General, standing alone in his open carriage all along the long, sad way, must have felt that he had the people's sympathy and love with him in his grief, for scores of heartfelt 'G.o.d bless you's!' came from lips that are unused to such words.

And at last the yellow evening sun shone out as the great procession reached the gates of Abney Park Cemetery and wound towards the open grave.

Only a part of the mighty throng could hear The General's beautiful words, so strong and yet so tender, from which I have already quoted, but all joined in the song, 'Rock of Ages,' which seemed to roll up to the heavens themselves.

Several leading Officers and members of The General's own family prayed and spoke, wonderfully upheld in spite of their deep grief and the strain of the last days. And then by the open grave the present General led all hearts to make a fresh consecration, the whole a.s.sembly promising, with G.o.d's help, that they would be

'Faithful to Thee, faithful to one another, and faithful to a dying world, till we meet our beloved Mother in the Morning. Amen.'

If ever you are in Abney Park Cemetery you should visit her grave. It is very simple. Around the little piece of earth runs a grey stone, with these words carved on it:--

CATHERINE BOOTH,

MOTHER OF THE SALVATION ARMY

More than Conqueror, through Him that loved us, and gave Himself for all the world and for you.

Do you also follow Christ?

and above are two small beds of flowers.

Do many people go to see it? you wonder.

Oh, yes. All round it a path is worn in the gra.s.s, made by the tread of many feet; for mothers bring their boys and girls to see it, and tell them what a mother she was, and men and women of all creeds and races pause beside it, and remember.

Many Officers, too--from distant lands, and speaking strange tongues you could not understand--come to The Army Mother's grave when they visit our sh.o.r.es. For she was their Mother as well as ours, they say.

They kneel beside the stone, and spell out the name, and then they consecrate themselves afresh to G.o.d and the needs of the heathen lands, and they claim His grace to follow in her steps.

For our Army Mother is not dead. True, her body lies in the quiet grave at Abney Park, and her spirit is in Heaven; but her life and influence still live among us, her words are treasured, and our greatest prayer and desire for the girls and wives and mothers in our ranks is that they may live to be worthy daughters of Catherine Booth.