Now! Then! The South African speaker Samuel Cronwright meets Marion Rowntree among other anti-Boer War activists waiting to run the gauntlet of a riotous Tory mob at Scarborough

12 March 1900: The South African speaker Samuel Cronwright meets Marion Rowntree among other anti-Boer War activists waiting to run the gauntlet of a riotous Tory mob at Scarborough

Samuel Cron Cronwright-Schreiner. 1906. The Land of Free Speech. London: New Age Press. Get it:

Excerpt

She looked about 20 years old, and stood leaning easily against the wall. I went up to her and addressed her, saying that if she would walk out she would be safe. I had no sooner spoken than I saw I had misjudged her, for she was as cool as though in her own house, and by way of answer just smiled. I went and spoke to one of the men and asked why she did not go. He answered, “Because you, the guest, and her father are in danger. She will go out with us.” We decided to leave at once, and sallied out by the back. The moment we passed the policemen, the wild mob gathered round us, yelling and waving flags – one particularly big one on a long pole almost over my head. From that moment, I lost sight of the other men, and found the lady at my side. The reason of this did not occur to me at the time, but I am sure now that this was part of their plan for my escape from a mob that would have handled me very roughly if it had recognised me. Alone, I was fairly safe; with the lady, doubly so; that would be the last thing the mob would expect. And that brave girl walked at my side, calm and unmoved amid the storm. We had not gone far when the mob began its attack. The stronger men caught hold of the youngsters and hurled them against us. Two were hurled against me with considerable violence, but I am strong and an old football player, and so kept my balance and my course. My companion, however, was naturally not so tough and experienced; so, when a boy was hurled at her from behind with great violence, striking her half on the side, she was knocked off the pavement into the street, where she strode along alone, calmly passing through the imperialists, who mobbed and surged and yelled around her, as I have seen a big dog stride through a pack of yelping curs. I at once went up to her and gave her my arm, and walked with her back to the pavement. It was necessary to act quickly, in view of the growing impudence and violence of the mob, but I had no idea where we were, being a total stranger to the place. Without quickening our pace we walked down to a cab stand, to which she directed me, and up to a cab whose driver was in a considerable state of perturbation. I opened the door, and the lady got in, and sat on the seat facing the horse. I took the seat opposite and closed the door. A man poked his head in through the window at my left shoulder, looked at the lady and withdrew again. Turning my head and looking out of the window to my right, as the driver lashed his horse and drove off at a great pace, I saw Mr Richard Cross on the pavement, but recognised no others.

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To facilitate reading, the spelling and punctuation of elderly excerpts have generally been modernised, and distracting excision scars concealed. My selections, translations, and editions are copyright.
Abbreviations:

ER: East Riding
GM: Greater Manchester
NR: North Riding
NY: North Yorkshire
SY: South Yorkshire
WR: West Riding
WY: West Yorkshire

Comment

Footnotes omitted. The Rowntrees didn’t press charges or seek damages for the riot, as you will see in the full piece. George Rowntree also deals with the events in his Reminiscences (Rowntree 1936).

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Original

CHAPTER XIII.

SCARBOROUGH, 12TH OF MARCH, 1900.

Part I.
The Attacked Cafe.

Before the outbreak of the war, a crowded and orderly meeting had been held in the Town Hall of Scarborough, the most famous watering place in the North of England, and one of the oldest parliamentary boroughs in the kingdom. This meeting memorialised the Government in favour of peace. Soon after, a branch of the South African Conciliation Committee was formed, of which Mr. Joshua Rowntree, J.P., a magistrate and an ex-M.P., was President.

I was asked to deliver a lecture there, and arrangements were made for holding the meeting on Tuesday evening, March 13th. Mr. J. A Hobson and I were, however, asked to come over on Monday, the 12th, to meet some people Mr. Joshua Rowntree had asked to take tea together in the evening.

As I have said, no one in Scarborough knew by which train I should arrive. But early in the afternoon a crowd gathered at the railway station to give me a “reception.” When Mr, Hobson and one of the Rowntrees arrived from York at 3.45, they put the crowd off the scent by parting on the platform. Mr. Hobson was not known, but Mr. Rowntree was hooted When I arrived later, a considerable crowd was still waiting, which scanned, with sinister intent, the people who alit from the train. I ignored them, and walking quietly through them, got into a cab and drove up to Mr. E. R. Cross’s house, at South Cliff, where I was to stay.

I have good reason to know that I have had several fortunate escapes because I do not look like the “Boer” which the mob have in their mind’s eye. They look, I have no doubt, for a rough “boor,” with unkempt beard, antiquated badly-fitting clothes, and a slouch hat If one goes about unconcernedly, the crowd, which is never very intelligent, suspects nothing. There is a certain fascination in rubbing shoulders and exchanging remarks under such conditions with a number of people who are after your scalp.

The Monday evening’s “At Home,” given by Mr. Joshua Rowntree, was to be held at the Café of Mr. J. W. Rowntree, 21, Westborough, because more people were invited than a private room could conveniently hold.

The card of invitation was as follows: —

“SOUTH AFRICAN CONCILIATION COMMITTEE.
Scarborough and District Branch.
The President, Mr. Joshua Rowntree, desires the pleasure of the company of
……………….
at the Café, 21, Westborough, on Monday evening
next, March 12th, 1900, from 8.30 to 10.30, to meet
Mr. Cronwright Schreiner and Mr. J. A. Hobson
R.S.V.P. to 73, Newborough.”

The Café in question is situated in the principal thoroughfare, and is one of the most tastefully arranged and furnished in the provinces.

In the evening, we drove in a cab into Huntriss Row, and, alighting near the General Post Office, walked to the archway near Simpson’s shop, and entered the Café by the back entrance. This was rendered necessary by the fact that a large and noisy crowd had already gathered in front of the Café, which it would not have been advisable to pass through. The crowd extended up close to the archway, and we passed along its edge as we entered. Just at the comer of the archway, some one recognised my companions, and a few of the mob in the immediate neighbourhood, responding to the shout of some one, “Here they are, boys!” rushed towards us. But it was too late; we had passed under the arch; and, some uncertainty existing as to our presence, the police had no difficulty in preventing anyone following us. Only one man, a rough navvy-looking fellow evidently under the influence of liquor, got close to Mr. Hobson, and, addressing him by my name, hurled a foul and savage oath at him.

A good many people were already in the Café, and others continued to arrive, until, in all, about fifty ladies and gentlemen were assembled. Notwithstanding the mad mob without, and the deafening bombardment that was in progress, most of those within kept remarkably cool, some of them with admirable self-control partaking of refreshments and chatting. The quiet steadfastness of many of the ladies was very striking. One had to be inside the Café to realise what this meant.

In view of the threats that had come to the ears of the anti-war party, the proprietors of the Café had decided to take such precautions as they thought necessary for its safety; and late in the afternoon shutters within the lower windows were hastily improvised. This was fortunate, for although they were insufficient to save the windows, they undoubtedly prevented those who attended in the evening from receiving serious injury.

About ten minutes after our arrival, the first stone was thrown. It struck the leaded window front and broke some of the panes of glass. This was the signal for a general bombardment. The noise soon became so great that conversation was scarcely possible. Stones came into the room through the arched windows above the door. The roar outside was like the wind and thunder of a South African up-country storm, and the pattering of the stones like large hail on a corrugated iron roof: the resemblance struck me at once. The shutters failed to save the windows downstairs, every one of which was broken, but they prevented the stones from coming through. Upstairs, where the windows were unprotected, the stones crashed through and into the tastefully furnished rooms, as we could hear distinctly above the noise on the panes and shutters of the room in which we were.

It soon became evident that the whole of the front of the beautiful Café had been wrecked, and that the gathering could not be proceeded with, and people began to wonder what was going to happen, and what was to be done.

About nine o’clock — that is, about twenty minutes after the bombardment began — the Chief Constable (Mr. H. Riches) and the Chairman of the Watch Committee (Councillor Valentine Fowler, J.P.) came into the Café, and urgently appealed to Mr. Joshua Rowntree and those standing by him to give up the “At Home,” and leave the building, and also to make it known at once that the public meeting called for next evening would be abandoned The Chief Constable said the crowd could no longer be controlled; it was too large and too angry, and had got quite out of hand; if the “At Home” were not abandoned at once, he said, the police could not prevent the destruction of the Café building, which would be rushed and destroyed, nor could they in such a case be responsible for what would occur to persons and property. Mr. V. Fowler emphatically supported the Chief Constable, repeating in alarm that the authorities had lost all control of the crowd, and were powerless to avert disaster unless the guests at once dispersed, and the public meeting for next evening were abandoned In his agitation he volunteered the damaging admission, “I told our fellows to go to the (Tuesday) meeting, but to content themselves with singing patriotic songs”; but no one, he said, was prepared for what was now happening. And indeed it was hardly safe to remain longer on the ground floor. No one would have been surprised to see the front suddenly give way and the frantic crowd pour in.

In response to the urgent solicitations of the Chief Constable and the Chairman of the Watch Committee Mr. Rowntree then asked such members of the local South African Conciliation Committee as were present to go upstairs with him, where they could hear one another speak (which the din downstairs made almost impossible) and consider the matter. They met in a back upstairs room where the noise was not so deafening, Mr. Hobson and I being also present When all were assembled, Mr. Rowntree said it was most humiliating that two Englishmen who came to Scarborough as visitors should not be allowed to speak on a matter so complex and so important But, he added, the responsibility of preserving order rested with the authorities, who now informed them that the mob was so large and so violent that they no longer could control it, and refused to be responsible for anything that might happen if the meeting were not at once abandoned. The Committee adopted the only possible course: it was decided to disperse at once, and to abandon the public meeting for next evening. This decision was communicated to the Chief Constable and Mr. Fowler, who, much perturbed, at once left to make it known to the Imperialists outside. The lights were then turned down, leaving the front of the Café in darkness, and the guests left amid a storm of groans and hoots, but without personal injury except in one or two cases. It was suggested that the few of us who were left, and whom the mob particularly wanted, might be able to get out unobserved over a wall at the back with the aid of the police, but the project did not find much favour: it did not seem quite the thing.

Meanwhile the roar of the crowd and the force of the bombardment increased. The noise was like a hurricane. In the hope that perhaps the mob might begin to disperse when it knew the gathering had been abandoned, some half dozen of us waited a while. As far as I remember, we were Mr. Joshua Rowntree, Mr. J. A. Hobson, Mr. E. R. Cross, Mr. W. S. Rowntree, and his daughter (Miss Marion Rowntree), and myself. Mr. J. W. Rowntree, the owner of the Café, who did not intend leaving, was also present with one of his assistants.

As we stood waiting, I for the first time noticed that a lady was one of our number. She looked about twenty years old, and stood leaning easily against the wall. Acting without much thought on the first and most obvious idea that she might be afraid of the wild mob outside, and knowing that as time went on, the mob, if it did not disperse (and I did not think it would), would become more and more mad, until a woman’s sex would not be much protection to her, I went up to her and addressed her, saying I did not think she had anything to fear at this stage, and that if she would walk out she would be safe. I had no sooner spoken than I saw I had misjudged her, for she was as cool as though in her own house, and by way of answer just smiled in the most unconcerned manner. I think I never saw a better example of good tempered self-reliance and determination. One sees this so often in the faces of Quakers: no bitterness, but iron determination, coupled with a serene and unassertive courage, as beautiful as it is rare among humans; and I think I may safely say I never saw it better exemplified than in that girl on that horrible night, But I was much concerned about her, feeling that to some extent I was the cause of her danger, and, with the object of getting her safely away, went and spoke to one of the men (Mr. Hobson, I think) and, pointing out that she should not stay any longer but should go away at once, before the mob got quite mad, when she might be in real danger, asked why she did not go. He answered, “She won’t go, because you, the guest, and her father are in danger. She will go out with us.”

Exchanging a few words, we decided to leave at once, and without delay sallied out by the back entrance we had come in by. The mob – or rather one wing of it – was now waiting for us there, and policemen stood across under the arch to prevent them from coming in. The moment we passed the policemen, the wild mob gathered round us, yelling and waving flags – one particularly big one on a long pole almost over my head. We turned to the right and walked down the pavement away from the hall. From the moment we passed the policemen, I lost sight of the other men, and found the lady at my side. The reason of this did not occur to me at the time, but I have got to understand the “Friends.” I am sure now that this was part of their plan for my escape from a mob that, to put it mildly, would have handled me very roughly if it had recognised me. My safety was the one object of these unselfish people. The Rowntrees and Mr. Cross were well-known public characters, whereas I was quite unknown to the mob, and so, for all practical purposes, was the lady. If the men had kept near me, that would almost certainly have indicated me to the mob. Alone, I was fairly safe; with the lady, doubly so; that would be the last thing the mob would expect. I am confident that all my men friends watched me with untiring care, ready to help should I be recognised; but they kept dear of me. And that brave girl walked at my side, calm and unmoved amid the storm — and one has to be an unpopular person in a mad mob to know what that means.

We had not gone far when the mob, knowing we were among the last to leave the café, began its attack in a cowardly way as usual. The stronger men caught hold of the youngsters and hurled them against us. Two were hurled against me with considerable violence, but I am strong and an old football player, and so kept my balance and my course, walking along with apparent unconcern, but intensely and alertly watching all that took place. My companion, however, was naturally not so tough and experienced; so, when a boy was hurled at her from behind with great violence, striking her half on the side, she was knocked off the pavement into the street, where she strode along alone, calmly passing through the Imperialists, who mobbed and surged and yelled around her, as I have seen a big dog stride through a pack of yelping curs. I at once went up to her and gave her my arm, and walked with her back to the pavement. It was necessary to act quickly, in view of the growing impudence and violence of the mob, but I had no idea where we were, being a total stranger to the place. Without quickening our pace we walked down to a cab stand, to which she directed me in answer to my inquiries, and up to a cab whose driver was in a considerable state of perturbation. I opened the door, and the lady got in, and sat on the seat facing the horse. I took the seat opposite and closed the door. A man poked his head in through the window at my left shoulder, looked at the lady and withdrew again. Turning my head and looking out of the window to my right, as the driver lashed his horse and drove off at a great pace, I saw Mr. Cross on the pavement, but recognised no others. Some one had knocked his hat off, and it looked as though he might be hustled a bit, but there was not, as far as I could see, any real violence against him. My first instinct was naturally to pull up the cab and go to his assistance in case he should need it, but a moment’s thought showed me the unwisdom of such an act I argued to myself that he would probably not fare very badly if dissociated from me, being an important official and well known, but that if I went to help him and were recognised, as no doubt in such a case I should soon be, a fray of a serious nature would inevitably result; for the others from the café would have come in to save me, with the result that there would have been a real fight, the outcome of which no one could foretell It was clear in a moment that lie was much safer without me. Besides which, I had seen enough of my companion to know with perfect certainty that if I got out she would do so too. So I let the cabby go on, as he did at a hand gallop, till he had left the mob far behind. Soon all was quiet around us. At one time we drove along close to the shingly beach of the sea, whose “untumultuous surge” peacefully lapped the shining stones.

When we got down at Mr. Cross’s residence, while paying the cabby, I asked him why he had driven off so hurriedly. “Well, sir,” he answered, “They’d have turned my cab over, they was that mad. And I drove off in a wrong direction, too, because I was a-feared to turn the horse, which is why I was so long a-getting here.”

We were the first arrivals at the house, and were welcomed by Mrs. Cross. A few others arrived a little later, among them Mr. Brough, the famous breeder of blood-hounds. Mr. Cross and Mr. Joshua Rowntree had been hustled a bit, but not seriously hurt I learnt this afterwards, for, with delicate refinement, not a word was said about it that evening, my inquiries being brushed pleasantly aside with a smile. We had a quiet chat on South African affairs. The lady who had so staunchly stood by me, I now for the first time learnt, was Miss Marion Rowntree. I heard afterwards through a friend that the man who put his head into the cab had asked her excitedly, “Where’s that Boer, Schreiner? I want to kill him.” To which she replied quietly, “I’m Miss Rowntree.” ” Oh, I beg pardon,” said the man, and disappeared. In his excitement he had not seen ‘” that Boer ” who was within two feet of his head; while, his face being turned away from me, the noise was so great that I had not heard a word he said. Miss Rowntree’s cool and ready answer perhaps prevented an ugly affair.

Later on, when the guests were leaving, they encountered a noisy gang of youths on their way to Mr. Cross’s house. Over a fire, we were smoking a cigar before turning in, when there was a ring at the front door. Mrs. Cross quickly arose and said “I’ll see who it is,” and went out. Soon she came back and with a smile told us these young men had asked if Mr. Schreiner was there! But, as in the case of Miss Rowntree, they did not score, for Mrs. Cross had promptly and indignantly asked how they dared come and disturb her household at such a late hour. Thereupon, the would-be assailants, baffled, beat a shame-faced retreat

During the evening, the Chief Constable looked in to see if all were safe. He was in a very excited state, and gave us an alarmed description of what was happening — how the property was being wrecked, how the police had been stoned (he himself having been struck on the head!) and how the whole town was at the mercy of the mob. He was really alarmed at the state of affairs. He asked what Mr. Hobson and I intended to do in the morning. I replied: “We are not known; we’ll just walk down to the station and get into the train.” Mr. Hobson was quite prepared to do this. But the Chief Constable, with considerable excitement, said he couldn’t allow such a thing; we’d be mobbed and perhaps killed. He’d let us know later what plan he’d made for getting us safely away. Later, he came again and said that, accompanied by the Chief Detective, he’d come in a closed cab with four horses at nine o’clock next morning, and drive us to Ganthon Station, eight miles out, where we could catch the train to York. Then we turned in and went to sleep.

Part II.
The Riot in the Town.

The scenes in the streets that night were unprecedented in the annals of Scarborough.

As early as seven o’clock groups of people began to assemble in Westborough, in the vicinity of the café, and long before eight o’clock, the crowd had assumed such dimensions that it was with difficulty the footpaths could be kept dear, and it was being added to every minute. The arrival of a large body of police, who formed a cordon round the entrance to the café, tended rather to attract than diminish the crowd, and soon the street was blocked from Aberdeen Walk to Huntriss Row. The arrival of a Union Jack brought a further augmentation of the crowd; then came a big standard heading a band of riotous men and boys, who caused great disturbance by pushing and jostling violently. The police kept the mob from entering the cafe, but were powerless to prevent the stone throwing. Volleys of missiles were hurled; huge stones, pieces of bottle, etc, shore through the windows like tissue paper. Then the lights were turned down, and all the guests departed, except the proprietor of the café, Mr. J. W. Rowntree, and a head-waitress, who remained on the property until the mob had been dispersed at 2 a.m.

I have related how I got home. Mr. Hobson walked home alone, unrecognised and unhurt Others were not so fortunate. Of these, Mr. W. S. Smith, editor of the Advertiser, fared worst. On entering Huntriss Row, he was seized by two men, one of whom cried “Here is Smith, the bloody pro-Boer; let’s take him into the Club, and teach him a lesson.” (That is the Constitutional, a Tory Club.) One of these two men was in a military uniform. Mr. Smith was struck and severely mauled and dragged to the Club door, and would have been carried inside but that someone within slammed and locked the door. Mr. Jonathan Harwood, a Friend, who pluckily remonstrated, was at once brutally assaulted. Mr. Smith was then released, and proceeded home as well as he could, followed by a mob. In the mob was a man who when he got a good opportunity struck Mr. Smith in the face with a stone which he held in his hand, and felled him to the ground. Eventually, helped by friends, Mr. Smith reached home at 9.30.

I have mentioned that Mr. Joshua Rowntree and Mr. Cross were hustled. So serious was the attitude of the mob towards Mr. Rowntree, that he had to seek temporary shelter in a hotel. Mr. Rowntree’s integrity and benevolence have made him many friends, even among those who differ strongly from him on the war. This was exemplified that night. On two occasions, while Mr. Rowntree was being hustled by the unclean and cowardly mob, a young man (one of these young men had a brother fighting in South Africa) interfered on his behalf. One of them pluckily stemmed the torrent in Mr. Rowntree’s rear, and addressing those most prominent in the assault said, “I don’t agree with Mr. Rowntree, but I won’t stand by and see him struck.” He was promptly assaulted, but he fought like the man he was. Mr. Rowntree did not know of these young men till next day, and I do not know that he has ever heard their names. All this occurred before 9 o’clock, and before the mob had become mad, or the results would have been much more serious.

Soon after 9 o’clock, the mob stretched from Vernon Place to North Street, a seething, struggling mass. Every window had a complement of excited cheering people; every coign of vantage on the Bar Church was occupied, hundreds crowding the cold grey stone for half its height, cheering themselves hoarse; and on one of the topmost ledges a small boy waved a Union Jack amid the plaudits of the Imperialists.

At the café the riot waxed hotter and hotter; “half bricks, coping stones, macadam, pebbles, pellets, crockery from adjoining houses, and what not,” says a writer to the local Imperialist paper, “went crashing through the windows and against the woodwork.” Here and elsewhere catapults must have been used, as even the highest windows and in some cases the skylights were shattered; while boys did a thriving trade in selling stones to throwers at six a penny. On one occasion, a number of the mob joining hands surrounded the police at the café, and rushed them. “The blue-coated giants pushed and struggled and shouted,” says the same correspondent, “but the crowd was too strong, and the wave of humanity flung against the railings police, volunteers, soldiers, sailors, militia, and civilians, all in one huge olla podrida.” Women fainted in terror. Not a pane of glass was left in the café and the beautiful leading
was twisted and contorted. An attempt was made to wreck the verandah of the café, and it would seem that some of the mob were bent upon burning the building, for a tin of paraffin was actually hurled in through the windows. Town councillors, magistrates, and leading citizens, were to be seen countenancing or urging the mob on to its work of assault and destruction.

When the café was a wreck, there was a lull, which, however, was but momentary and presaged an increased wave of destruction. “Go round to York Place,” said a well-dressed man, ” there are big windows there.” The crowd were being incited and similar advice was being given in other parts by responsible persons who ought to have known better, with the result that the mob, now about eleven thousand strong, moved off with what appears to have been a well-concerted plan of campaign, which was of the nature of war upon the promoters of the meeting and their relatives — persons also prominently associated with the anti-liquor movement. Attention was first devoted to their business premises within the town. A few doors higher up the street, some handsome grocery premises belonging to the owners of the café were attacked, and in a short time the plate glass windows and the smaller panes above were smashed. Then the mob moved further up to the furnishing and drapery establishment of Messrs. Wm. Rowntree and Sons. This is architecturally the handsomest building devoted to business in the town, with the largest plate glass windows. This also was ruthlessly destroyed.

It being evident that the police were quite unable to cope with the mob, although every available policeman was on duty, and as the mob was rapidly becoming more and more violent and reckless, the mounted police were called out. A dozen mounted men rode through the mob endeavouring to disperse it. But the mob was now thoroughly aroused; it closed up every time the horses passed through, and then attacked the mounted police with stones with such effect as to render all their endeavours useless. Most of these men received injuries more or less severe, and one of them was so seriously hurt that he was confined to his house next day.

The café and other business premises of the Rowntree interest having been quite wrecked, sections of the crowd breaking off set out, in accordance with what appears to have been the general plan of campaign, to wreck their private residences. Mr. W. Smith, a strong opponent of the war, had his door battered and his windows broken. Between 10 and 11 o’clock the drawing room windows of Mr. Joshua Rowntree’s house in Ramshill Road were smashed in. Then came Mr. Wm. Rowntree’s turn. This venerable gentleman, the patriarch of the Quaker community and the senior magistrate of the town, was in his ninety-fifth year, and his wife in her ninetieth. His splendid record goes back to the time when he refused to be a party to any glorification of Wellington. He and his wife lived a retired life in a detached house with Mr. J. H. Rowntree, an unmarried son. After their long years of consistent and all-embracing usefulness, some exemption from the hostility of even extreme partisans might have been expected But this was not to be. Their garden was invaded about one o’clock in the morning, the door leading to the front of the house was broken open, and the gas lamp over the door and the windows of the house were smashed in by the Imperialists. Mr. J. W. Rowntree, the senior partner of the firm owning the café, a member of the Town Council, was still in the café building. At his dwelling house, “The Rowans,” three-quarters of a mile away, his wife was alarmed between one and two o’clock by brickbats coming through the windows. She went to protect two young children, one of them a cripple unable to move, and, while trying to muffle the sound from a terrified little girl, was further startled by the smashing of crockery in the servant girl’s bedroom, into which stones were being hurled from the street. Mr. Allan Rowntree, of Broom Lodge, and family were away from home, but the maids were awakened by bricks coming through the bedroom windows. The assailants, finding a scarcity of missiles, broke considerable portions from the garden wall, with which they smashed the conservatory and the windows in nearly all the rooms. The nature of the attack may be gathered from the fact that next morning bricks by the barrow-load were lying about on the floors of the sitting and bed rooms.

The huge mob was now simply running riot, the full strength of the local foot police and the mounted police combined being unable to quell the disturbance; rather, the police tended to aggravate it, and, by showing their helplessness, encouraged the mob to greater excesses. Long before the work of destruction was completed, it had become apparent that the situation was desperate and required drastic measures. A consultation was held by the local authorities as to the advisability of reading the Riot Act. Councillor Valentine Fowler, Chairman of the Watch Committee, was first asked as a Justice of the Peace to read it, then the deputy Mayor, Councillor Pirie, was asked, but the authority of the Town Clerk was needed. So Mr. D. A. Nicholl was sent for and arrived about 11.30. Meanwhile, as a last resource, it had been decided to call out the military. Telephone messages sent to Burniston Road Barracks found the men asleep, but they were at once aroused, and, shortly after Mr. Nicholl’s appearance, about eighty men of the Royal Artillery and the Artillery Militia, armed with carbines, were marched down into Scarborough, under the command of Captain W. E. Fell. They were halted at the Police Station, where they remained for some considerable time, whilst a further discussion as to the reading of the Riot Act took place. It was evident that there was a tendency of the mob to proceed to further destruction; but before resorting to the extreme measure of reading the Riot Act, it was decided to see what effect the marching of the soldiers through the streets would have. After marching about for some time, the men were halted in Castle Street, where they waited while the matter was further discussed between the local authorities and Captain Fell. They were then marched about again, until, at the bottom of Albemarle Crescent, a sufficiently impressive display of force having been made to show that extreme measures would be resorted to if necessary, Captain Fell appealed to the crowd to disperse. The two arguments – the display of force and the appeal – had their due effect on the mob, which had cheered the soldiers enthusiastically. The less rowdy element had already largely disappeared, seeing things were taking a serious turn, and the remainder now gradually dispersed until, at about two a.m., the town was at last free from the mob which had infested it, and comparative quiet reigned where so much passion and rioting had held sway for about seven hours.

The direct damage done to the Rowntree property (very little else was damaged), amounted to about £500, but the indirect loss was very much larger. The loss to the great cocoa manufacturing firm of Rowntree would have been enormous but that both the great cocoa firms of Cadbury and Fry (also Quakers), with a magnanimity as rare in business as beautiful, issued instructions to their travellers to take no advantage of the unjust impopularity of the Rowntrees owing to their disapproval of the war.

In addition to the damage to property, some half-dozen police were injured, and a considerable number of private persons more or less severely. Five men were arrested during the night, but all were released.

Part III.

HOW MR. HOBSON AND I LEFT SCARBOROUGH.

About eight o’clock next (Tuesday) morning, the Chief Constable appeared at Mr. Cross’s house to inform Mr. Hobson and myself that, accompanied by the Detective Inspector (Bowerman) in plain clothes, he would come in a closed cab and four horses to drive us to Ganthon, a quiet country railway station eight miles out on the road to York, where we could catch the train. He said he would first drive past and ascertain whether the “coast was clear” (for he thought the house might be watched and an organised gang be in readiness to attack us); then, if all was quiet, he would halt the cab some little distance up the street and come down and tell us. We were, he said, to be quite ready to come out at once, and, if we had any heavy luggage, we were to leave it to be forwarded — he would see to it.

About the appointed hour, a two-seated closed cab with four fine horses (which would have given a good account of themselves if chased – a contingency which, I think, the Chief Constable considered not quite improbable) drove past. We rightly guessed this might be our cab. A minute or two afterwards, the Chief Constable appeared; all seemed clear, he said, but he urged us to come quickly before any attention was attracted. Bidding our kind hosts a hurried good-bye, and taking our bag in hand, we were soon in the cab, which stood a little distance up the street. The windows were drawn up, and away we went at a swinging trot, the detective, who sat on the opposite seat with Mr. Hobson, stealing glances at me with great curiosity. We avoided all thoroughfares likely to be frequented, and soon were out of the town in the beautiful peaceful country. It was a pleasant drive to Ganton, and the horses were urged on so briskly that we arrived at the station nearly half an hour before our train was due. We were put down and the carriage drove away. As I shook hands with our escort, I knew I was saying good-bye to one of the few constables that had fulfilled their duty as custodians of the public peace to the very best of their ability.

We took our tickets for London and waited for the train. The vehicle and the horses and the liveried driver constituted so pretentious a turn-out that I felt certain it would attract attention at so rustic a spot, and that the half hour we had to wait would give the few workmen about there time to ruminate. After about fifteen minutes, I left Mr. Hobson at the door of the little waiting room and went in to consult a time-table. While thus employed, I heard a violent voice outside. Suspecting something wrong I stepped out and found Mr. Hobson indignantly regarding a rough-looking man who was standing close up to him in a most threatening attitude and armed with a heavy crook stick, while in a loud and agitated voice he was calling Mr. Hobson a “Bo-er.” I took him to be a farm labourer or navvy. He was a powerfully made man about 5 feet 8 inches or 9 inches in height, dressed in rough well worn clothes, with his trousers tied with bands below the knee so that they just topped his heavy boots. When I joined Mr. Hobson, his excitement increased, and be loudly and repeatedly shouted that we were “Bo-ers.” Mr. Hobson had already addressed some words to him. I think it not unlikely that, if I had not come on the scene, he might have attacked Mr. Hobson, for he was capable of anything being almost demented with excitement and anger. I addressed a few words of warning to him, and he stood a little further off, gazing at us as though mad, with his blazing eyes almost starting from his head; but he could ejaculate nothing except that we were “Bo-ers.” He was thoroughly convinced that at last he had before him two of those awful creatures, and he regarded us with mingled amazement and horror. If the Prince of Darkness had suddenly appeared, or if horns and tails had sprouted forth on us^ he could not have looked more fascinated and horror-struck than he was. I cautioned him that if he persisted I should report him to the station master and have him removed; whereupon he walked along the railway platform and shouted to some workmen on the line that we were “Bo-ers,” brandishing his stick excitedly, watching us with one eye, as though he expected we might disappear in a sulphurous flash, while with the other eye he looked for the train. “This is awkward,” said Mr. Hobson, “he’ll give us away.” And so he did, for when the train pulled up, he shouted madly to the passengers that “Bo-ers” were there, indicating us with his stick. The station master spoke sharply to him, but he only sheered off a little, and shouted louder than ever even after the train moved away. In the carriage Mr. Hobson remarked that, although this man reminded him of demented peasants he had read about, he had nevertheless shown considerable power of intuition in inferring that we were “Boers.”

It must be confessed that the situation was not pleasant. The train had to stop at one station on the way, and we had about half an hour to wait at York. We decided that it would be wise to erase our names from our portmanteaus, and also to part immediately on the railway platform at York as though strangers.

When the train stopped at the intermediate station, it at once became clear that our demented peasant had aroused suspicion, for a number of people gathered at our carriage window and regarded us curiously. We both read with glasses, and we were shaven and quietly dressed. As we sat quietly with our books, and were so unlike the mythical Boer that was in the mind of the average Englishman, the onlookers were evidently puzzled. “I don’t know,” said a man, in answer to some query; “but they got in at Ganthon.” A tall, moustached man was prominent and foremost. Looking up from my book and putting my head to the open window, I asked, with a smile, “What is the matter?” It happens that, being English, I speak my native tongue without any foreign accent. The man smiled foolishly and turned and said something to a companion at his side. Just then someone further back shouted “Three cheers for Schreiner;” but there was no response; instead, the station master came and told them to behave themselves, and soon after the train steamed out.

But we had York before us, with the knowledge that our presence was suspected. Immediately on arrival there, we stepped out independently. Mr. Hobson went in one direction, and, giving my portmanteau to a porter and telling him I was for London, I walked off in another. Next instant I saw Mrs. Arthur Rowntree. I had left a wire to be forwarded from Scarborough (without my name) telling her, as I had prophesied I should, of the destruction of the café, and that I was going through to London. On receiving it she had pluckily come across to meet me. We went into the town to have a cup of coffee at the house of one of her friends. We passed a considerable number of railwaymen in the street, and Mrs. Rowntree remarked with a chuckle what a time we’d have if they only knew I was amongst them! The London train was actually moving off as I stepped into it. There was no sign of my luggage, but I guessed it would be all right. Opposite to me sat a pleasant-faced, portly old gentleman, reading with absorbing interest a full account of what had occurred last evening at Scarborough. I amused myself with speculating on the start the old gentleman would get if he knew the dreadful ogre was actually sitting by him. At the first halt, I found Mr. Hobson with my luggage, and joined him in his compartment As we drove off in a cab from King’s Cross to Victoria, I agreed that it was pleasant to get into London and be buried for a while among its seething millions.

Early on Tuesday morning notices to the effect that the meeting for that evening had been abandoned were posted up outside the old Town Hall at Scarborough; and the café and the other wrecked premises were well barricaded. Yet, notwithstanding the formal abandonment of the meeting, it was considered necessary by the authorities^ in view of the temper of the crowd the previous evening and the rumours and threats which filled the air, to take every precaution to prevent another riot The whole of the police force, except three men injured the previous night, were on duty, and, in addition, the military were held in readiness. At seven o’clock, one hundred men from the Burniston Road Barracks arrived in the town and were quartered at the Town Hall, while another hundred men were kept at the barracks ready to be called out. Colonel Burton, R.A., the officer in command, was in attendance at the Town Hall, and the chairman of the Watch Committee remained for the evening in Scarborough instead of going to his residence at Scalby. The police paraded the streets from seven o’clock, and promptly stopped any tendency to rowdyism or flag-waving or congregating in any spot. With these elaborate precautions, the thousands of people that thronged the streets were dispersed by eleven o’clock, after which the town resumed almost its normal appearance.

PART IV.

THE ORGANISATION OF THE RIOT; THE LOCAL AUTHORITIES; THE POLICE.

A riot quite unprecedented in the annals of Scarborough, one of the worst that occurred during the height of the war frenzy, a riot with which the full force of the borough had been unable to cope, the mob having stoned both the foot and mounted police, held possession of the town for seven hours, assaulted persons and destroyed £500 worth of property, and necessitated the calling out of the military — took place on the 12th of the month. It might have been expected that the local authorities would have met promptly and investigated the matter. Not so, however. It was actually not until the 23rd that the Watch Committee met for the first time. When it did meet, the Chief Constable presented a report which the Town Clerk advised should be sent to the Public Prosecutor. This was, however, rejected by the Tory members, who carried an amendment proposed by Councillor Sanderson, “that the Committee do not send any communication whatever to the Public Prosecutor, but that the police be instructed to give any facility to private persons in any proceedings which they might institute against known offenders.”

The bearing of this resolution will be seen when the following fact is considered. On the 21st of the month, the Rowntrees and Mr. Smith (the sole severe sufferers, and the only people likely to institute private proceedings) had addressed a letter to the Press (the full text of which is given later on in this chapter), saying that they had no intention of proceeding against anyone, or of claiming any compensation for the damages sustained, but would bear such damages themselves. Consequently, there being no likelihood of any private proceedings being instituted, the Committee perhaps thought it had blocked off all further developments by shirking its obvious duty.

But this practical condonation of the riot was not to go quite unchallenged. On the 26th, another special meeting was called, this time hurriedly. Only three Councillors were present. It appears that what was said on the 23rd was intended to be kept secret; the only intimation given to the Press being that an adjournment had been agreed upon for a week, and no resolution adopted. But something of what actually happened had leaked out apparently, somewhat to the consternation of the Committee, which now met in some alarm to consider a letter from a firm of solicitors, placing before the authorities sworn evidence implicating certain persons. These depositions practically forced the local authorities into action, under penalty of being suspected of hushing up a criminal case. It appears that the Committee had been advised that their resolution of the 23rd was ultra vires, and that they now began to fear the police grant might be stopped. Thus were the Committee forced to take action; but, as might have been expected action taken under such circumstances did not prove as effective as it might have done under more honourable conditions.

On the 7th of April claims for compensation by the owners of the property adjoining the Café* were submitted to the Committee, which had already been advised by Mr. E. H. Carson, Q.C., M.P., that those who had suffered damage were clearly entitled to compensation. A special Committee consisting of Councillors Fowler, Pirie, and Sanderson, was appointed to report on the matter. For some months this Committee (on which, it may be inferred, Mr. Pirie had not much power) actually declined to pay for the damage done to the premises adjoining those of Messrs. Rowntree, on the ground that there had been no riot! But eventually they climbed down, admitted the riot, and paid the damages. At last, also, pressure induced the Watch Committee to send the Chief Constable’s report to the Public Prosecutor.

On the 2nd May, nearly two months after the riot, twenty-one persons were arraigned before the magistrates. The Chairman of the Watch Committee presided, presumably with satisfaction to the defendants. The members of the Town Council who incited the weaker brothers were not so much as named during the proceedings. Five persons were convicted of stone-throwing and fined, in the aggregate, £3 5s., including costs, and two men were bound over to keep the peace. The majesty of the British Law was vindicated; people in high positions again breathed freely; and the “unco’ guid” of Scarborough flaunted their virtue and impartiality before a public that winked its eye. It was the Raid farce over again on a small scale.

It will be remembered that the riot occurred in connection with a purely private social function to which a few ladies and gentlemen had been invited by Mr. Rowntree — as private a gathering as if it had been held in Mr. Rowntree’s own house.

But, with regard to the meeting which was to have been held next evening, it should be noted that this was simply a public lecture, at which no resolution on the war or anything else was to have been proposed. A lecture by a British South African with a thorough knowledge of his subject was to have been delivered on the conditions for obtaining a durable peace to South Africa. The meeting had been got up by leading men, among them a Magistrate, an ex-M.P., a Town Councillor, and the Magistrate’s Clerk (Mr. E. R Cross, LL.B.). The constitution of the Committee was an earnest that no violence was expected. The question of the settlement of South Africa was being generally discussed, and I had advocated no more than, before the war began, the Ministry had repeatedly said they desired.

The newspapers had been violent against me. making, as usual, the most untruthful and mischievous insinuations. Not only did the leaders of the Press stir up feeling against me and those who were responsible for my coming, but they were ably seconded, if not surpassed, by the leaders of the club room, the bar-parlour, and the Church. Notwithstanding this, the Committee had no direct evidence to lead them to think there would be a riot. They received no warning until the day before the private gathering, when information reached Mr. Rowntree which, however, was of a kind he could take no notice of. But a significant circumstance occurred on the Monday. At the Council meeting. Councillor Topham gave himself away somewhat. Several Councillors were in doubt as to whether the “Peace” meeting, as they called it, which had been arranged for the following evening, had been abandoned. Some asserted that it had, others that it had not Councillor Topham, however, set them all at rest by loudly declaring “Whether it has been abandoned or not, there will be no meeting.” It will be remembered, too, that when Councillor V. Fowler, Chairman of the Watch Committee, came into the Café with the Chief Constable, he said in an apologetic tone, losing his reticence in his agitation, “I told our fellows to go to the meeting but to content themselves with singing patriotic songs.” Who were “our fellows,” and where did they meet? Were they of the Constitutional Club? Was the plan of
campaign organised there? Why was one of the chief assailants of Mr. Smith a prominent member ot that club? And why was an attempt made to drag Mr. Smith into the Club to deal with him there in that resort of the gentlemen of England? “The whole affair,” says the Eastern Morning News, “it is freely stated, was arranged within the walls of a party club.” It appears that the arrangements were so complete that a band had actually been engaged to play patri- otic airs outside the old Town Hall from a car decorated with lamps and Union Jacks. The systematic manner, too, in which the business and private houses of the promoters of the meeting, often far apart, were sought out and wrecked, seems to point to a systematically prearranged plan. The Yorkshire Morning Post remarked that the “demonstration” was “deliberately undertaken and of set purpose.” Prominent men incited the mob in its work of destruction. Affidavits, it was stated, were made by two persons of good standing to the effect that a Town Councillor offered them a sovereign to begin breaking the windows of one of the Rowntree premises. These indications, coupled with the action of the Watch Committee and the trial farce, seem to indicate that there
was a systematically organised riot, and that prominent men were connected with it.

As to how the Tories viewed it all afterwards, let Charles Legard, President of the Constitutional Club speak. In proposing success to the Scarborough Constitutional Sports Club, a few days after the riot, he said:

“When he took up his morning paper on Tuesday, he felt that the loyalty and patriotism of the borough had been vindicated. (Applause.) He had been closely connected with the borough for nearly thirty years, and he was glad to see that Scarborough had not failed in its duty on that occasion. (Applause.)”

Of course he qualified this by the pious declaration that “he was not one who advocated rioting.” His reference to the “chaos” he saw on Tuesday morning produced “laughter,” while his joy that the town was not to pay the damage, and his sneer at the Rowntree letter, were greeted with “hear, hear.” Such is Imperialism! A short time before, this fine old English Tory had expressed a wish to see the Rowntrees “drummed out of the town.”

The ideas that centred round myself may be illustrated by three facts. One correspondent to the Press said that “to entertain and support a man like Mr. Cronwright Schreiner is perilously near acting the part of a traitor.” Another said, “we have a right to ask our Government to order that Dutch fire-brand, Schreiner, to leave these islands within twenty-four hours,” and went on to refer to my wife as an “hysterical spit-fire,” But the horror with which I was regarded is perhaps better illustrated by a letter I received at breakfast on the morning after the riot. It bore the postmark of the 13th, and ran as follows:-

” We — the two girls that assisted you last night — wish you to know that it was only an act of charity, and that we are truly British. We do not in any way agree with you or your up-holders. We think you should be warned not to try elsewhere. In no other country would you be allowed to do this kind of thing, and do you not think it is taking a mean advantage of the freedom of our land? What would have been said to emissaries or agents of ours if sent to either of the African Republics? They would have been arrested at least; if not shot!”

The letter was undated and unsigned.

I was a bit puzzled, until Mr. Hobson explained that, while walking up during the riot, two girls, seeing him undecided as to his course, came and told him where Mr. Cross lived. They had evidently mistaken him for me.

The letter is further interesting as showing how good-hearted, well-intentioned people had been misled by the Imperialist Press.

I conclude this chapter, which relates so disgraceful a riot and so low a standard of manliness and honour and justice, with the Rowntree letter, which almost redeems the fair fame of Scarborough. It was almost worth having the riot to have so fine a document laid before the public. It had a wide circulation.

“To the Editor of the Evening News.

“SIR, — It is our desire that the sores arising from the recent visit of Mr. Cronwright Schreiner to Scar- borough may speedily be healed, and as one contribu- tion to this end, we wish to state that it is not our in- tention to make any claim against the Borough Fund for property damaged or destroyed during the riots which occurred on the night of the reception given by one of our ntmiber.

“The loss of property, though not light to some of us, is as nothing compared with the peril to which some of those dearer to us than life were that night exposed; or with the loss of free speech won for tt9 by brave men and women of old.

“We respectfully submit to our fellow-countrymen of all creeds and parties that the wreckage of build- ings, and especially midnight assaxilts on the homes of women, children, and aged persons, are acts of cruel lawlessness which nothing can justify.

“Inquiries made §eem to show that the violence was chiefly the result of the delusion that the visitor to our town, a colonial fellow subject of British blood, who had come to lecture on ‘The conditions of a durable peace in South Africa,’ was a Boer, whose life might fairly be taken; and that it was encouraged by some who are supposed to know better. Edmund Burke’s entreaty to his fellows — ‘so to be patriots as not to forget to be gentlemen,’ seems still to be needed.

“We are at one in desiring the honour and greatness of our country; we are intensely anxious for the good name of the British Empire amongst the nations of the earth. But we hold that the fostering of prejudice and enmity, even against our foes, is in the long run hurtful to ourselves; and that injustice to strangers never leads to justice to our own people.

“Our convictions on some great questions are, we know, different from those of the majority of our fellow-countrymen; but for these convictions we must render our account not to men but to God.

“If we are wrong, resort to lynch law will not set us right, whilst it inflicts serious injury on the whole community.

“We desire to acknowledge, with sincere thanks, many expressions of support and sympathy from both strangers and friends. History often has to reverse the popular verdicts of the day, and we believe it will reverse the verdict of violence which has been given against us.

Yours truly,

“William Rowntree,
“Joshua Rowntree,
“W. S. Rowntree,
“James H. Rowntree,
“Allan Rowntree,
“John Watson Rowntree,
“George Rowntree,
“William Smith.
“Scarborough, 21st March, 1900.”

Such people are the soul of a nation.

At the General Election in October, 1900, a Liberal, an anti-Chamberlain man, was elected for Scarborough with a majority larger than that of the Liberal member at the previous election. The successful candidate had the support of the Rowntree interest. The election agent, when asked the reason for this unexpected increased majority, said it was due to my visit! Thus did time bring its revenge.

9781 words.