The next group were clustered round a little man in a somewhat clerical dress, holding up a written paper, perhaps eight inches square, with the word “£2000” in large figures at the top, and smaller writing underneath; but he was quite inaudible.
Then came a typical specimen of the tub-thumper, hat on head. Had he been having a course of Sandow, I wondered, so fast did he move his arms and hands. In the space of a few minutes the groups had swelled so much that the outer circle of one touched that of the next. Unitarians, Catholic Defence League, Christian Evidence Society, an Evangelist, Wesleyans (who had erected a kind of pulpit, with harvest decorations), and Mr. Carlile’s much respected and ever-practical Church Army, all found room and listeners in that corner of the Park. Besides these there were two or three other speakers who were holding forth, and who had no banners, but from a word or two that reached me I gathered that each was evidently representing some special sect.
Apart from these I saw a unique case of unrequited perseverance under difficulties. A workman who had evidently tidied up his working clothes for Sunday, and highly waxed his dark moustache, was standing alone, speaking rapidly, and apparently with earnest purpose. But alas! his audience consisted of a very old woman, a toddling little boy, a baby in a perambulator, and a small girl who had to reach up to push it along. But still he talked, looking straight in front of him, his hands at his sides; and half an hour later when I passed the spot again he was in the same position, still talking with the same energy, still looking straight before him, but this time there was no audience at all. I was not able to distinguish the words, and so remain ignorant of the theme of so much eloquence.
A lady sang a solo in the Wesleyan group, from a rival gathering rose the strain of the “Old Hundredth,” and close at hand voices were raised to a third tune; but everybody seemed to like the musical combination.
There was yet another group about a hundred yards farther on. A long sort of cart, with its horse taken out, formed a platform for five men. Four sat behind the speaker, looking grave as the proverbial judge, while a lively promoter of the meeting hammered the atmosphere, and poured forth oratory in the following strain:
“So it was done, gentlemen! there was the platform with chairs on it, and I making my way straight to it ...” (claps from the four gentlemen behind, who looked graver still).
“Gentlemen, that was the way the thing was done, that was the way the officials treated me” (greater agitation of the atmosphere at each word). “That—was—the—way—it—was—done, at Exeter Hall, gentlemen ...” (pause with reference to notes). Then a violent attack on the management and speakers at a recent meeting at Exeter Hall, and on the officials who prevented this open-air orator from reaching the platform, which he declared was packed.
Only last year the Park was put to better uses. It is hardly an exaggeration to say that 80 to 90 per cent. of the congregation of an ordinary London church is composed of women. Realising that as the people (or at least the men) did not come into the churches, the Church must go out to the people, the Bishop of London bethought himself to utilise Hyde Park. Thus it was that in the spring of 1907 open-air meetings were organised in Hyde Park, under the auspices of his Evangelistical Council. These services took place on Monday nights. About seven o’clock the bulk of the aristocracy have left the Park and are wending their way homewards to dinner. But at that time another class of people is free, the most of the shops are closed. Young men and young women before going home to their supper take a stroll through the Park to enjoy the fresh air.
This is the propitious moment.
These young people have nothing to do. It does not matter to them whether they are home an hour earlier or an hour later. All they want is a little fresh air and exercise, with a little amusement thrown in. Some stop and listen to the band, which plays every evening and is always well attended. Others lounge about and watch the smart vehicles bearing their gaily dressed occupants homewards. Others, with no particular object in view, stroll across the grass. Of course, a crowd always attracts attention, and the moment it is noticed that any small throng of people has assembled at one particular spot, others go to see and hear what it is all about.