The time had now come for such an extraordinary career and such an
extraordinary man to be recognized, and he was. He had made an
impression and his work, humble as it was, had made an impression.
Moreover, Mr. Holcombe himself was now growing impatient to get into a
position more favorable to his usefulness. It was not the selfish
impatience that could not longer endure the humiliation and manifold
disagreeablenesses of his position at the engine house. He had overcome
all that. It was the noble impatience of love and zeal. Oh, how he did
long to get into a place where he could help somebody and serve somebody
and love somebody.
He had been very kindly treated by his old friends, the gamblers, during
all this time; and though he was loath to allow it and at first declined
it, yet fearing lest his refusal might alienate them, he had, more than
once, accepted substantial help from one or two particular friends among
them. Encouraged by assurances from some of these and by the promise of
all the help his pastor could possibly give him, financially and
otherwise, he had made up his mind to rent a room in the central part of
the city and to open a meeting for the outcast classes. But on the very
day when he was engaged in making these arrangements, his remarkable
conversion and character and career were the subject of discussion at
the Methodist Ministers' meeting. The result was that before the week
had passed, the Rev. Jas. C. Morris, pastor of the Walnut-street
Methodist church, visited him at the engine-house and informed him that
the Official Board of his church had authorized him to take measures for
the establishment of a mission in the central part of the city and to
employ Mr. Holcombe to take charge of it at an assured salary sufficient
to meet the wants of his family. He at once accepted it as a call from
God and gave up his position in the fire department, with no great
degree of reluctance.
A vacant store in the Tyler Block, on Jefferson street between Third and
Fourth, was offered free of rent. Regular noon-day meetings were held
there in charge of Rev. Mr. Morris and Mr. Holcombe. It was a
phenomenon. Within two blocks of the two faro banks which Steve Holcombe
used to own and run, he was now every day at high noon declaring the
Gospel of the grace of God. The people came to see and hear. They found
it was no mushroom fanatic, but a man who for forty years was a leader
in wickedness and for four years had been almost a pattern of
righteousness. He spoke no hot words of excitement, but narrated facts
with truth and soberness. Many of his old time friends, the gamblers,
their timidity overcome by their curiosity, joined the crowd and heard
the man. Poor drunkards, too far gone for timidity or curiosity, dragged
themselves to the place where the famous gambler was telling about his
conversion and his new life. And the power of God was present to heal,
and great grace was upon them all. Among those who were saved at that
time and place were Mr. Ben Harney, son of the distinguished editor of
the old _Louisville Democrat_, who lives again in happiness and
prosperity with his beloved family, and Mr. D. C. Chaudoin, at one time
a Main-street merchant, who remained faithful until death.
When the supporters of the movement saw that it promised so much, they
took steps at once to make larger provision for it and to secure its
permanence. They sought a suitable house in a convenient place, and
finally decided to take the room at No. 436 Jefferson street, between
Fourth and Fifth streets, which had formerly been used as a
gambling-house. Mr. Holcombe took possession of it, and found some of
the gambling implements still there. A Board of Managers was elected,
consisting of John L. Wheat, James G. Carter, P. H. Tapp, C. P. Atmore
and George W. Wicks. Some friends from the Walnut-street church and
others volunteered as singers; the room was supplied with hymn-books, an
organ was secured, and the meetings commenced under the most promising
circumstances. At first, meetings were held three nights in the week,
and the attendance was large. Soon after, meetings were held every night
and on Sundays. People of all classes came. The services consisted of
singing, prayers, reading of Scripture, a short, earnest address from
Mr. Holcombe, and sometimes testimonies from the men who had been helped
and saved--among whom were drunkards, gamblers, pick-pockets, thieves,
burglars, tramps, men who had fallen from high positions in business and
social circles, and in short, men of all classes and kinds. Many of
these gave unquestionable proofs of conversion, "of whom the greater
part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep," faithful
unto death. Among those who were converted during that period were
Robert Denny, Fred Ropke, Captain B. F. Davidson and Charles Wilson,
whose testimonies will be found elsewhere in this book--besides others,
some of whom are residents of Louisville and some of other places.
By request, the Rev. James C. Morris, D. D., now of Kansas City, Mo.,
has written a brief account of Mr. Holcombe's work from the beginning to
the point which we have now reached in this narrative. And, as no part
of it can well be omitted or changed for the better, it is here
introduced entire, with a part of the genial letter which accompanied
it:
"KANSAS CITY, MO., August 14, 1888.
"_My Dear Brother_:
"I inclose the notes for which you ask. You see they are in a
crude state. But do not judge from that that I have no interest
in the work you have in hand. My Father in heaven knows I keep
it very near my heart. I felt it would be sufficient for me to
furnish you the matter in a crude state, and let you work it
into your plan rather than give it any literary shape myself.
Besides, I am pressed, pressed to my utmost, and I therefore
send you this imperfect sketch with an apology. I am glad you
are doing the work. It will surely do good. Brother Holcombe's
work ought to be known. I wish in my heart of hearts that every
city and town had such a man in it to work for God and souls.
Praying God to bless you and your work, I am,
"Yours affectionately,
"JAMES C. MORRIS."
"In the year 1881, while I was pastor of the Walnut-street Methodist
church, in Louisville, Ky., I heard of Steve Holcombe, the converted
gambler; of his remarkable career; of his remarkable conversion, and of
his unusual devotion and zeal in the cause of religion. I heard also of
his efforts in the line of Christian work and of his desire for better
opportunities. I mentioned his case to the Official Board of the
Walnut-street church, and suggested that he might be usefully employed
by our churches in the city in doing missionary work. The matter was
kindly received, but the suggestion took no practical shape. As I walked
home from the meeting one of the stewards said to me: 'Why could not we,
of the Walnut-street church, employ Brother Holcombe ourselves?' This
question put me upon a course of thought about the work we might be able
to do, and at the next meeting of the Board I made the suggestion that
we organize some work of the kind and employ Brother Holcombe to take
charge of it. They unanimously accepted the suggestion and directed me
to investigate the case. If anything could be done, they were ready to
enter upon the work and support it. I lost no time in seeing Brother
Holcombe. He was then employed at the engine-house, on Portland avenue.
I found him rubbing the engine. It took but a moment to introduce
myself, and in a short time we were up-stairs, alone, talking about
religion and work for Christ. He told me how his heart was drawn out in
solicitude for the classes who never attended church--the gamblers,
drunkards and the like. It was easy to see that the movement
contemplated was of God. We talked and rejoiced together; we knelt down
and prayed together for God's guidance in all our plans and
undertakings. I then told him how I came to call on him, and laid before
him our plan. His eyes filled with tears--tears of joy--at the thought
of having an opportunity to do the work that was on his heart.
"At once I reported to the Board, and recommended that Brother Holcombe
be at once employed and the work set on foot without delay. God breathed
on them the same spirit that he had breathed on us together at the
engine-house. With unanimity and enthusiasm they entered into the plan
and pledged their support. They fixed his salary at nine hundred dollars
a year and authorized me to do all that was necessary to carry the plan
into effect.
"Early the next morning Brother Holcombe gave up his place at the
engine-house, and we went out to look for a house in which to domicile
our work. I can never forget that day. What joy there was in that heart
that had waited so long and prayed so fervently for an open door of
opportunity. Now the door was opened wide, and a song was put in his
heart and in his mouth. We walked miles to find a suitable place, while
we talked much by the way as our hearts burned within us.
"At length we found a vacant storeroom on Jefferson street, between
Third and Fourth, and as we looked in the window, we said: 'This
would make a grand place to begin in.' We went to see Mr. Isaac Tyler,
the owner, and he gave us a favorable answer and the key. The next day
we began a meeting which continued through three months. And who can
write the history of that work? Only the All-seeing God; and He has the
record of it in His book. We had a noon-day service every day, except
Sunday, and a Saturday evening service every week.
"The services were advertised and men stationed at the door invited the
passer-by to come in. At the meetings all classes of men were
represented. There were strong, wise, honorable business-men and there
were tramps and drunkards with all the classes that lie between these
two. No man was slighted. Many a man was brought in who was too drunk to
sit alone in his seat. Many were there who had not slept in a bed for
months. There were gamblers and drunkards and outcast men from every
quarter of the city. The gathering looked more like that in the police
courts of a great city on Monday morning than like a religious meeting.
The workers did literally go out into the highways and into the lowways
and compel them to come in. And marvelous things took place there.
"Steve Holcombe was known all over the city, and such a work done by
such a man who had lately been a noted gambler in the community drew men
who, for years, had had no thought of attending church. The old
companions of his worldly life came, the worst elements of the city
came, good men from all the churches came. Brother Holcombe was in his
element. His soul was as free to the work as that of an Apostle. Daily
he trod the streets inviting people to come, and daily, as they came, he
spoke words of deep feeling to them, urging them to be saved. No man
ever had a more respectful hearing than he had. No man ever devoted
himself more fully in the spirit of the Master to doing men good than
did he. His devotion to the poor outcast who showed any willingness to
listen or any wish to be saved was as marvelous as his own conversion. I
never saw such in any other worker for Christ.
"In the progress of the work we often spoke of keeping a record of those
who professed conversion there. I am sorry it was not done. Hardly a day
passed without some case of exceptional interest. Men were saved who had
been for years in the very lowest stages of dissipation and vagrancy.
Not a few of those who were thus saved were men who had belonged to the
very best social, and business circles of the city. Many of them are
bright and blessed lights in Christian circles to-day. Many homes were
built up out of wrecks where only ashes and tears remained. Many
scattered families were brought together after long separation. God only
knows the results of that three months' work. I remember some
conversions that were as marvelous as that of Saul of Tarsus. I could
tell of some of them but perhaps this is not the place.
"This meeting in the Tyler block was a feature of a meeting which was in
progress at the Walnut-street church and to this it was tributary. In
the evening those who had been reached by the services at the mission
were invited to the church. They were largely of a class not often seen
in the church but they came, and when they came the church welcomed
them.
"Then there was rejoicing in the presence of the angels, for many
sinners were repenting and returning. I saw the Gospel net dragged to
the shore enclosing fish that no one would have been willing to take out
of the net except Steve Holcombe. But it is far different with them
to-day. Changed by the power of God, these repulsive creatures are
honored members of the various churches, heads of happy families and
respected and useful citizens of the community.
"At the end of three months the meetings in the storeroom were
discontinued. Mr. Holcombe had won thousands of friends, hundreds had
been put in the way of a new life and the whole city was in sympathy
with the work.
"We were now to select and secure a suitable place for the permanent
home of the mission. Another search brought us to the room on the south
side of Jefferson between Fourth and Fifth streets, No. 436. It had been
occupied as a gambling room, and the gambling apparatus was still there
when we took possession of it. In a few days the house was fitted up and
the 'Gospel-Mission' was opened.
"The work was now thoroughly organized. There was, in addition to the
regular services, a Sunday-school for the children whose parents never
went to church. Colonel C. P. Atmore was superintendent. The 'Industrial
School' also was organized, where Christian women taught the girls to
sew, furnishing them the materials and giving them the finished
garments. It is especially worthy of remark that the old associates of
Mr. Holcombe, the gamblers, contributed more than $500 toward the
expenses of this work.
"This house became an open home for any weary, foot-sore wanderer who
was willing to come in, and through the years many were the hearts made
happy in a new life.
"The year following the organization of the work, Rev. Sam P. Jones
conducted a meeting at the Walnut-street church, and his heart was
strangely drawn to that mission. He himself conducted many services
there and he was more impressed with the character of the work and of
the man who was in charge of it than with any Christian work he had ever
seen. During this meeting of Mr. Jones a programme of street-preaching
was carried out by Mr. Holcombe and his fellow-workers. Mr. Holcombe
himself preached several times on the courthouse steps, and, even in the
midst of the tumult, souls were converted to God."
This is the end of Dr. Morris' account of the beginnings of Mr.
Holcombe's work, though the reader will probably wish it were longer,
and even more circumstantial.
Mr. Holcombe's family lived in the same building, over the mission room,
and whenever men in need or distress applied, he gave them board and
lodging. Mrs. Holcombe says that for three months they had never less
than twenty men eating two meals a day. Of course, among so many there
were, doubtless, some imposters, but it took a pretty keen man to play
imposter without being spotted by the keen man who was in charge of the
enterprise. Mr. Holcombe had mixed with men long enough to know them. He
had spent most of his life among bad men. He had studied their ways and
he knew their tricks. And it is not necessary to say to the reader who
has perused the foregoing pages, that Mr. Holcombe was not afraid of any
man. His former experience in sin and his former association with
sinners of every sort led him to see that it was necessary for him
rigidly to protect the work he was now engaged in and he determined to
do so. Men would come into the meetings, sometimes, in a state of
intoxication; sometimes lewd fellows of the baser sort would come in for
the purpose of interrupting the service and still others for other
purposes; but when Mr. Holcombe had put a few of them out, they saw that
this man in getting religion had lost neither common sense nor courage,
and that Steve Holcombe, the converted gambler, was not a man to be
fooled with any more than Steve Holcombe, the unconverted gambler; so
that all such interruptions soon ceased. But nobody should get the
impression that Mr. Holcombe was harsh or unsympathetic. On the
contrary, he is one of the most tenderhearted of men, and few men living
would go farther, do more or make greater sacrifices to save a drunkard
or a gambler or an outcast of any sort, than Steve Holcombe. For days he
has gone without meat for himself and his family that he might have
something to help a poor drunkard who was trying to reform. Indeed, his
pitying love for wretched men and women of every class and degree,
manifested in his efforts to look them up and to do them good in any
possible way, is the chief secret of his wonderful success in dealing
with hardened and apparently inaccessible cases. The following account
of his last and perhaps most desperate case is taken from one of the
Louisville daily papers and will illustrate what has been said:
[Illustration: JAMES WILLIAMS AS HE WAS.]
DRUNK TWENTY-THREE YEARS.
REMARKABLE STORY OF "WHISKY JIM'S" WASTED LIFE AND FINAL
CONVERSION. HOW THE WORK WAS EFFECTED.
The work that Steve Holcombe is doing is well known, in a general way,
but the public understand but little of the wonderful good that man is
doing. The reformations he has brought about may be numbered by the
hundred, and the drunkards he has reclaimed would make a regiment.
But of all the wonderful and truly startling examples of what Mr.
Holcombe is doing, the case of James Williams is the climax. Williams
has been known for years as "Whisky Jim" and "Old Hoss," and there is
not a more familiar character in the city. Until the last two or three
weeks no man in Louisville ever remembers to have seen Jim free from the
influence of liquor. He was always drunk, and was looked upon as an
absolutely hopeless case, that would be able to stand the terrible life
he was leading but a year or two longer.
The story of his life and reformation as related to a _Times_ reporter
is very interesting. He had asked Mr. Holcombe when his protege could be
seen, and was told at nine o'clock at the mission. Williams was seen
coming up the steps, his face clean shaven, his eyes bright and his gait
steady. Mr. Holcombe said: "There he is now, God bless him; I could just
kiss him. I knew he'd be here. One thing I've learned about Jim is, that
he is an honest man, and another is that he will not tell a lie. I feel
that I can trust him. He has had the hardest struggle to overcome the
drinking habit I ever saw, and I feel sure that he has gained the
victory. I began on him quietly about one month ago and got him to
attend our meetings. But here he is." The reporter was introduced, and
Mr. Williams readily consented to tell anything concerning himself that
would be of interest to the public and calculated to do good in the
cause of temperance. He said: "I was born in Paducah, Ky., and am
forty-eight years old. My father's name was Rufus A. Williams. While a
boy I was sent to school, and picked up a little education. I was put at
work in a tobacco manufactory, and am a tobacco-twister by trade. My
father died when I was nine years old, after which our family consisted
of my mother, now seventy-five years of age, my sister and myself. We
now live on the east side of Floyd street, near Market. Shortly after I
grew up I found work on the river and have been employed on nearly every
boat between Louisville and New Orleans. That is what downed me. I began
to drink little by little, and the appetite and habit began to grow on
me until I gave up all idea of resistance. Up to yesterday a week ago, I
can truthfully say that I have been drunk twenty-three years, day and
night.
"In 1862 I got a job on the 'Science,' Number 2, a little Government
boat running the Ohio and Cumberland rivers. Coming down the Cumberland
on one trip I was too sick to work, and the boat put me ashore about
twenty miles above Clarksville. The woods where I was dumped out were
full of guerrillas, but I managed to secure a little canoe in which I
paddled down to Clarksville. There I sold it for three dollars and with
the small sum I had already I came to this city, where we were then
living. I then drank up every cent I could rake and scrape. I could get
all sorts of work, but could keep no job because I couldn't keep sober.
I finally depended on getting odd jobs along the river front, such as
loading and unloading freight, etc. But the work was so hard I could
scarcely do it, and finally I had to give that up, especially after
falling and breaking my leg while at work on the old 'United States'
several years ago. That accident laid me up in the Marine Hospital for
several months, and just as I felt able to get out I broke the same leg
again at the same place. After recovering I yielded entirely to the
appetite for strong drink and cared for nothing else. As I say, for
twenty-three years I have not known what it is to be sober until a few
days ago.
"For the past six years I have earned my drinks and some free lunch by
picking up old boxes and barrel staves which I would dispose of to the
saloon-keepers along the river front who knew me. I did not often ask
any one for money with which to buy whisky, for I could always earn it
in this manner. I usually slept at my mother's house. As to eating I did
not eat much and was getting so I could scarcely eat at all. I am
getting over that now, and have a good appetite, as Mr. Holcombe can
testify.
"Well, about one month ago Mr. Holcombe came to me and gave me a little
talk. He did not say much, but he set me to thinking as far as I was
capable of thinking. He saw me the second time, and then several times.
Of course, I was always drunk but I understood him. Finally he said
to me 'Jim, if you're bound to have whisky, come around to the Mission
and let me give it to you.' I promised him I'd come around, and I did
so, for I wanted some o' the liquor. After I had gone around several
times and he had given me a few drinks, not to make me drunk, of course,
but to help me get sober, if possible; he invited me to go in and attend
the religious services. I did so and he invited me to come again, which
I did. At last he insisted that I should take my meals at the mission,
and I have been doing so for some days. Finally I made up my mind to
quit drinking altogether, and I intend to stick to the pledge I have
taken. I was full last Sunday week for the last time. I was trying to
taper off then, but a saloon-keeper on Market, just below Jackson,
knowing my condition and knowing that I was trying to quit, gave me a
bucket of bock beer. I knew he meant no good to me, but I couldn't help
drinking it. Other saloon-keepers have been trying to get me to drink
again, and I think they are trying to get me to do a great wrong.
"I went to church yesterday for the first time since I was a boy. Heard
Dr. Eaton preach.
"My poor old mother is greatly rejoiced at the change in me, for I have
given her a great deal of torment and misery. As soon as the Murphy
meetings are over Mr. Holcombe and I will spend a couple of weeks at
French Lick Springs."
[Illustration: JAMES WILLIAMS, AS HE IS]
During this period, when the mission occupied rooms at No. 436 Jefferson
street, the meetings were not confined to that single place, but
services were held in other parts of the city, on the streets and even
on the courthouse steps. Many strangers, as well as citizens of
Louisville, attended these, and some were so powerfully impressed that
after going away to their distant homes they wrote back to Mr. Holcombe
acknowledging the good they had received, and in some instances giving
an account of their conviction, repentance and conversion. The Holcombe
Mission became one of the "sights" of the city, so that strangers
visiting the city would look it up and attend services there.
In 1884 a new feature was added which, in turn, added much to the
efficiency and usefulness of the mission. It was suggested by the sight
of the poorly clad children who attended the mission with their parents,
and who seemed willing and anxious themselves to do better and be
better. This new feature was the Industrial School, an account of the
origin, history and methods of which is furnished by Mrs. Clark, the
Superintendent. A Sunday-school was organized also, with C. P. Atmore,
Esq., as Superintendent, and some of the most earnest Christian people
of the city as teachers and helpers. A little later the Kindergarten was
also organized and is now in successful operation.
[Illustration: THE INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL. 1. CUTTING GARMENTS. 2. BOYS
MAKING CARPETS. 3. GIRLS SEWING.]
THE INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL AND THE KINDERGARTEN.
In order to enlarge the mission work and better reach the homes of the
needy, both spiritually and temporally, the Union Gospel Industrial
School was opened in April, 1884, with six little girls and three
teachers in attendance. In May following it was formally organized as
The Union Gospel Mission Industrial School with
Mrs. J. R. Clark, Superintendent;
Mrs. L. G. Herndon, Assistant Superintendent;
Miss Ella Downing, Secretary;
Miss Ella Harding, Treasurer.
In June, 1884, it closed for the summer with twenty-two pupils and five
teachers. In September following it opened for the fall and winter term
with the same teachers and a small increase in the number of pupils, all
from the neglected classes. The school was organized in the old mission
room, at No. 436 Jefferson street, between Fourth and Fifth, and
continued there for three winters. The children came, however, from all
parts of the city, some of them from garrets and cellars. Their ages
ranged from five to eighteen years.
In May, 1886, the school was removed to its present spacious rooms in
the Union Gospel Mission building on Jefferson street, above First. The
work has steadily increased, each year bringing in a larger number of
the neglected children. Those who come are so interested and benefited,
they become missionaries, so to speak, to other poor and neglected
children. There is one class of girls, however, who are not
charity-scholars, but come for the purpose of learning to sew. Their
work is done, not for themselves, but for the younger children of the
poorer class who are not yet old enough to sew. For this reason, the
class just mentioned is called The Missionary Class, and it is one of
which the school is justly proud. They not only do their work for
others, they do good in other ways and in general exert a good influence
over the other children who are less fortunate.
The children are first taught all the different stitches that are used
in sewing. Then work is cut out for them by a committee of ladies who
attend for that purpose, and the children are taught to make all kinds
of garments. When the garment is completed and passes examination, it is
given to the child who made it.
There is a class of boys, sixty in number, ranging from five to twelve
years of age. These are first taught to sew on buttons and to mend rents
in their own clothes and then other things follow. They are at present
engaged in making a carpet for Mr. Holcombe's office. The teachers in
charge of them endeavor to train them to habits of industry,
self-reliance, cleanliness, truthfulness, etc. Some of the boys are very
bright and promising and some of them seem hopelessly cowed and broken.
Their histories would, doubtless, be full of pathos and of pain, if they
were known.
The school meets every Saturday morning at 9:15. The opening services
consist of--
1. Singing (Gospel Hymns).
2. Responsive recitation of a Psalm, or the Beatitudes or the Ten
Commandments.
3. Prayer.
4. Distribution of work-baskets.
The sewing continues for one hour and a half, then, at the tap of the
bell, the work is folded nicely, replaced in the basket and taken to
another room. The children then return to the large room and join in the
closing exercises, which consist of--
5. Singing.
6. Repeating of Scripture texts, each teacher and child repeating a
verse; or this is sometimes replaced with a chalk-talk, sometimes with a
short address on the Sunday-school lesson for the following Sunday,
sometimes with a short earnest appeal to the children by some visitor
who is known to be an effective speaker for such occasions.
7. The Lord's Prayer is recited in concert.
8. Dismissal.
The teachers, besides instructing the children in the art of sewing,
converse with them on pleasant and profitable topics and upon the
subject of religion in seasonable times and ways.
Quite a number of families have been brought under Christian influence
through the pupils of the Industrial School. Several parents as well as
children have been converted. Mr. Robert Denny, the account of whose
conversion is given by himself in another part of this volume, was
induced to attend the meetings of the Holcombe Mission by what his
children told him of the things they learned at the Industrial School.
One of the members of the first class of six and her mother are now
acceptable members of the First Presbyterian church. The daughter has
become an artist and is employed in retouching pictures in one of the
city photograph galleries. Three or four of the girls connected with the
school have died. Two of them, one aged twelve and the other fourteen,
gave every evidence of being Christians. One of these when asked when
she learned to love God and to pray, answered, "At the sewing school;
Jesus is always there."
Many when they began to attend did not even know the little prayer
beginning:
"Now I lay me down to sleep."
The ignorance of these poor children led the superintendent to open a
"Mothers' Meeting," for the mothers of these children and any others who
might wish to attend. The results have been wonderful. So many homes
have become changed, and are now neat, clean, orderly and happy. In the
rounds of the superintendent's visits she found a very sick woman who
said to her:
"Oh, I'm so glad you have come, Mrs. Clark. I want you to pray with me."
Mrs. Clark said, "Can't you pray yourself?"
She replied, "I don't know what to say. I did not know 'Now I lay me
down to sleep,' till my little Jennie learned it at the sewing school,
and I learned it from her."
"But can't you say 'Our Father who art in heaven?'" asked Mrs. Clark.
"No; not all of it, I know only a little of it."
Mrs. Clark was much moved at the ignorance, helplessness and need of the
poor woman, and was praying with her when the husband came in. She
talked with him and he was deeply impressed, and before she left
promised he would try to live a better life. A position as street car
driver was gotten for him, and for a while he did well, but after a time
he fell into his old ways and was dismissed. But, through the
intervention of the friends who had helped him before, he was restored
to his place, and to-day he is a sober industrious man and a member of
the First Christian church in the city.
[Illustration: KINDERGARTEN, THANKSGIVING DAY]
Perhaps a score of similar instances could be cited.
The sewing school closed May 12, 1888, with the annual picnic. The
following is the report for the year just past:
Average weekly attendance of girls, 162; average weekly attendance of
boys, 21; total average attendance of pupils, 183; average attendance of
officers and teachers, 32; average attendance of visitors, 4; total
average attendance, 219; total number of garments made by, and given to,
the children, 848.
The officers for the past year were as follows: Mrs. J. R. Clark,
superintendent; Miss Mary L. Graham, assistant superintendent; Mrs. L.
G. Herndon, superintendent of work; Miss Lithgow, treasurer; Miss Ella
Gardiner, secretary.
THE KINDERGARTEN.
In January, 1885, there were so many little boys and girls between the
ages of three and five years that the teachers did not know what to do
with them. The superintendent, who had some knowledge of the
kindergarten system, believed that its introduction here was what was
needed. She could not see her way clear, however, to incur any more
expense. But in answer to prayer the way was opened. Money was given for
the appliances and Miss Graham, an excellent teacher, offered her
services freely. The class at first averaged twenty-four pupils, met
each Saturday morning in connection with the sewing school, and was
called the Kindergarten class.
The interest increased till February, 1886, when the board of directors
of the Holcombe Mission consented that the superintendent should open a
regular kindergarten for every day in the week except Saturday. More
money was raised and a trained kindergarten teacher from Cincinnati was
employed. In June, 1886, the school closed with sixty little children in
attendance and four young ladies training for kindergarten teachers.
Arrangements were made for the following year and several hundred
dollars pledged. In September, 1887, the kindergarten was re-opened with
Miss Bryan, of Chicago, as teacher of training class and superintendent
of the school. In the following October a large and enthusiastic meeting
was held in the Warren Memorial church and the Free Kindergarten
Association was formally organized. In February, 1888, a second free
kindergarten was opened in another part of the city. The year's work
closed in June, 1888, five young ladies graduating as kindergarten
teachers. The number of children enrolled for the year was one hundred.
The kindergarten, it will be noticed, is thus distinct from the
industrial school.
In 1885, another department still was added to meet a want which had
been developed in the progress of the work. The great number of
broken-down men and tramps that came to Mr. Holcombe for food and help
of one sort or another made it impossible for him to give them lodging
in the mission rooms or board in his own family. And it encouraged
indolence in unworthy men to feed and lodge them as a mere charity. And
yet, if anything was to be done for their souls, they had for a time to
be cared for. Mr. Holcombe conceived the idea, therefore, of
establishing some sort of a place in connection with his work, where
these men might earn their food and lodging by the sweat of their brows
and at the same time be brought under the powerful religious influences
of the Mission.
[Illustration: MRS. J. M. CLARK.]
The result was the establishment of the "Wayfarers' Rest." Mayor Reed
and Chief of Police Whallen gave Mr. Holcombe a police station building
free of rent and Mr. J. T. Burghard gave the money to furnish it with
bunks, stove, cooking utensils, facilities for bathing, etc., and it
became at once an established feature, and a very admirable one, of the
Union Gospel Mission.
When Mayor Jacob came into office he gladly continued the use of the
building free of rent, and the institution has continued in successful
operation up to the present time--a space of three years.
The rooms are arranged for the accommodation of sixty men. All who come
are required to do some sort of work for whatever they receive, whether
it be food or lodging. The men do various kinds of work, according to
their several ability, but the chief employment is sawing kindling wood
out of material provided by the superintendent. Each man is required to
work an hour for one night's lodging or for a meal. The kindling wood is
sold all over the city, and under the excellent management of Mr. W. H.
Black, the present superintendent, the enterprise has become more than
self-supporting, bringing in enough to pay the salary of the
superintendent and the book-keeper, and leaving a surplus. It should,
perhaps, in justice be added, that donations of food are made daily and
have been from the beginning, by the Alexander Hotel Company.
During the winter of 1887 Mr. Black fed and lodged an average of fifty
men a day. He has never turned one away. The average income per day from
the sale of kindling wood is, in winter, ten dollars. The rules for the
government of the inmates requiring registration, cleanliness, bathing,
etc., are wisely conceived and strictly carried out.
This institution has proved in Louisville the solution of the vexed
question as to the proper treatment of tramps and beggars. The citizens,
instead of encouraging indolence and pauperism by feeding tramps at
their houses, some of whom are burglars in disguise, can now send them
to the Wayfarers' Rest, where they are always sure of finding food and
lodging, and, what is better, the opportunity of earning what they get
by honest work. And Mr. Holcombe's experience as a tramp in Colorado
leads him to take a brotherly interest in all these unfortunate men.
In 1886, the work had expanded beyond its quarters and beyond all
expectations. It was predicted that Steve Holcombe would hold out three
months. He had now held out three times three years, and that through
unprecedented trials and discouragements. During these nine years he had
helped many and many a man, almost as bad as he, into the blessed life
that he was living. He had established a unique institution in the city
of Louisville which had been the means of helping and uplifting and
blessing men and women and whole families. But the end was not yet. The
man and his work had so won the confidence of the people of the city
that in 1886, a formal request was made by the Evangelical churches of
the city that they be allowed to share with the Walnut-street Methodist
church in the expense and the care and the usefulness of the Mission. It
was changed then into a Union Mission, and representatives from the
Presbyterian, Baptist, Episcopal, Christian and Lutheran churches were
added to the board of directors.
In the same year, when Mr. Holcombe was feeling the need of more
spacious quarters for his expanding work, the large and elegant house on
Jefferson street above First, known as the "Smith Property," was
advertised for sale. Mr. Holcombe saw it and liked it. It was the very
sort of a building he needed for his work and all its various
departments.
He procured the keys and went through the building alone, from cellar to
garret, stopping in every room to pray that, in some way, God would put
it into his hands, with a firm persuasion, moreover, that his prayer
would be answered. An interesting letter written by Mr. Holcombe in
February, 1886, contains a reference to the project of purchasing the
new house. It is addressed to one of the converts of the Mission, Mr. S.
P. Dalton, of Cleveland, Ohio, and, as it shows also Mr. Holcombe's
interest in his spiritual children, it is given entire:
LOUISVILLE, KY., February 3, 1886.
_Dear Brother Dalton_:
Your welcome and encouraging letter is just received. I
acknowledge your claim, so gently urged, to something better
than a hasty postal in reply. When I write you briefly, it is
because my work compels it. My soul delights to commune with
spirits like yours, consecrated to God, and with brothers who
live in my memory as associates in our humble work here. Our
mission is being abundantly blessed of God, although meeting,
from time to time, with those drawbacks which remind us of our
dependence and the need of constant prayer. We are having good
meetings and conversions are numerous, and, as a rule, of such
a character as to make us believe they are genuine and
permanent. As I write, our friends are canvassing the city for
the collection of means to purchase the old Smith mansion on
Jefferson street, for our use, and believing all our work to be
of God I have no doubt that it will be ours within a week. Then
shall we do a great work for Louisville and for souls. Our
sewing-school and our Sunday-school, having outgrown our
present quarters, will be greatly enlarged, and every
department of our work also.
I am truly glad you are having such opportunities of doing
good in Cleveland. May God bless you and your dear wife, my
dear brother, and in His own time bring you back to us and to
the work which always needs such help, is the prayer of
Your brother,
S. P. HOLCOMBE.
An incident that occurred in connection with the purchase of this
elegant property will show how Mr. Holcombe and his work were looked
upon in Louisville even by those who were not Christians.
[Illustration: THE WAYFARER'S REST. 1. EXTERIOR. 2. OFFICE. 3. SLEEPING
APARTMENT. 4. TAKING MEALS. 5. AT WORK. 6. ON THE LEVEE.]
A German singing society was negotiating for the building at the same
time, and had offered a higher price than the friends of the Mission
thought they could give. Mr. Holcombe went to the leader of the society
and told him he desired the building for the Mission, and, though the
man was an unbeliever, he said: "Mr. Holcombe, though I am not a
Christian and do not believe in Christianity, I do believe in the work
you are doing. I will not be in the way of your getting that building."
He withdrew his bid at once, and the Directors of the Holcombe Mission
purchased it for $12,500.
Mr. Holcombe at once took possession. He fitted up the rooms of the
lower floor for the various departments of the mission work. The large
and elegant double-parlors were thrown into one and arranged for the
audience-room. This has a seating capacity of two hundred or more. The
other rooms of the lower floor are used, one for Mr. Holcombe's office,
two others for the Kindergarten, another for a cloak-room, and so on.
The second floor, with its seven large, bright, airy rooms, is occupied
by Mr. Holcombe's family, and, for the first time since his conversion,
they are in comfortable quarters.