From babyhood Kate Lee had been a delicate little mortal; she was so
timid that even the visits of relatives to her home were a kind of
torture to her, and she would hide in any corner rather than come forward
and entertain or be entertained.
Her delicacy inclined her to selfishness, and her timidity to reserve and
aloofness. She bid fair to grow up an insular, somewhat unlovable woman;
but child though she was, conversion meant a radical change in character
and purpose. She realized at once that as a follower of Jesus she might
not live to please herself. She became interested in other people, their
well-being and sorrows and needs. Then the joy of the Lord became her
strength. It was so glorious to know that her soul was saved from sin;
that she was at peace with God; that He had promised to be with her, and
guide her, and help her through life, and give her Heaven at last. And
this promise was for all the world; but people were still sinful and sad.
Surely they did not know about Salvation. She must tell them!
Straightway she wanted to wear an Army bonnet, so as to silently witness
for Jesus as she walked the streets. But opposition against Salvationists
was strong in those days, and Mrs. Lee was fearful lest Kate should be
roughly handled going to and from the meetings. In the matter of uniform,
she had to content herself with a badge of Army ribbon. This she wore on
her dress to school, and drew upon herself the ire of uncouth lads who
noticed it; some even pelted her with mud. She used to remain behind
after school hours to talk to her schoolmates about Salvation; some she
won, but others resented her message. Invited to the birthday party of a
school friend, she went, wearing as usual her Army badge. During the
evening this was torn from her breast.
Kate's eyes began to be opened concerning the attitude of the world
towards Christ. She found that most people did not want to know of His
will, much less do it, and that if she intended to devote her life to
seek and to save souls she must be prepared to suffer with her Lord. Far
from repelling her, the challenge called up the reserves of love and
courage that until now had lain dormant in her spirit, and once and for
all she took sides with Christ.
The shy little recruit, with eyes as blue as the sky, golden curls
reaching to her waist, and a complexion like pink rose petals, sang her
testimony in the meetings until she gained courage to speak. She was ever
planning ways by which she could direct people's thoughts toward God, and
to arouse them to a sense of their spiritual state. An ingenious method
she hit upon was to write carefully-worded little letters to the postmen
and drop them into various pillar-boxes.
The family removed to Hornsey, and soon afterwards Lucy heard the 'call'
to officership in The Salvation Army. This was the first real trial Mrs.
Lee had felt in connexion with her daughters' association with The Army.
Though herself anything but a woman of war, she had not interfered with
their choice of religion, for they were 'such good girls.' But to break
her home circle was not in her reckoning. It was a pain that went deeper
than the parting which caused tears to sting Lucy's face as, on a snowy
New Year's day, she said good-bye to mother and sister and left home for
the Training Garrison; but in her heart rang the words, 'If any man love
father or mother more than Me, he is not worthy of Me.' She must put
God's call first, and trust Him to bring all right.
Kate's health remained frail, but her spirit grew stronger and stronger.
Whenever able, she hied off to The Army hall, carrying her tambourine in
a little green baize bag, and, as often as not, a bundle of 'War Crys'
under her arm. In the Army papers she saw a powerful means of spreading
Salvation, and she became a fearless Herald. [Footnote: One of a
voluntary brigade of regular sellers.]
There are comrades at Wood Green who recall how on Wednesday nights Kate
would go to the hall, fold a large bundle of 'War Crys,' and sally forth
to the streets to sell them. The first time she ventured out on this
service she saw a great, drunken navvy lounging against the door of a
public-house. Mustering all her courage, the girl advanced and offered
the paper to the drunkard. She felt she had scored quite a victory when
the navvy bought a copy. By degrees she became braver, and would even go
into the saloons to sell the periodicals. Then, noticing how the newsboys
boarded buses with their papers, she thought that in the Lord's service
she should be as eager and enterprising as they, and she became quite
agile, running up and down the iron steps as she joined the buses and
offered her papers for sale to the passengers.
Veteran soldiers also recall Kate's spiritual, earnest face, as she sat
in side seats--known as 'the boxes'--at the Wood Green hall, whence she
could study the congregation. As she recognized how people fell under
conviction of sin during the progress of the meetings, she felt that she
might help girls of her own age, who 'didn't look saved,' if she sat
beside them in the hall, and spoke to them when the prayer meeting was
begun.
She was still shy, still nervous, but she suffered no excuse for herself
when the heavenly vision made clear a path of duty. In later years, a
corps cadet asked her if, in those days, she never said 'I can't.' 'Yes,'
she replied, _'I often said "I can't, but I MUST,"'_ and so she
conquered.
To wear full Army uniform was still the desire of Kate's heart. When she
needed a new dress, she prevailed upon her mother to let it be a blue
one, and by dint of great perseverance she made a uniform herself. Now,
if she might but have the bonnet!
Lucy had passed through the Training Garrison, and was now an officer in
the Field. A great Salvation demonstration was held at that time at the
Alexandra Palace, and Lucy, with her captain, came to London for the
important event. The mother and sisters met in the ground of the Palace.
Lucy's eyes were sparkling with quite extraordinary delight, and, needing
a wash and brush up, she asked her mother to excuse Kate, and the girls
slipped away.
'Guess what I've got for you, little dear,' Lucy exclaimed when they were
alone. Kate laughed, but shook her head. Then, from a box, the elder
sister drew a small Army bonnet. 'Oh!' gasped Kate, 'where did you get
it?'
'I've been saving and saving for it, and at last here it is; and you're
going to wear it right off.' Kate's hat was transferred to the box and
the bonnet tried on. 'Darling, you look lovely; now come to mother,'
cried Lucy. Kate's face was pink with pleasure, and her eyes shining with
anticipation when the girls returned to Mrs. Lee. She looked a moment in
surprise, then her eyes filled with tears. There was a beauty not of this
earth about the child. She would not mar it. Kate might wear the bonnet.
And thus it was that the mother, herself unreached with revelation, and
untouched by inspiration, followed slowly but surely in her daughters'
steps.
Whilst Lucy was stationed at Folkestone it was a great joy to the sisters
when it was arranged for Kate to visit her. To work amongst the people
all day long, get them to the meetings at night, and 'land' them at the
mercy-seat, seemed to Kate service that the angels might envy. One day
she begged to be allowed to 'visit' [Footnote: Visiting the people in
their homes--usually from house to house.] as her sister and the captain
did. The captain consented somewhat reluctantly, but afterwards doubted
the wisdom of allowing this child of fifteen to go alone into all manner
of houses. Seeing Kate enter the home of a drunken sweep, she stepped
along to the door and listened. Kate was dealing with the man as
earnestly and directly, if not as skilfully, as she herself could have
done. She smiled and turned away. When Kate had visited her street of
houses, she returned to the quarters radiant. The sweep had promised to
come to the meetings, and, 'Just look what he gave me for tea,' she
announced triumphantly, and produced a currant loaf, a luxury in those
days.
A kind-hearted woman soldier, touched by Kate's delicate appearance, felt
that the child needed the air of the hills, and abundant nourishment, and
begged Lucy to allow her to take Kate to her home. Lucy, ever alive to
Kate's welfare, joyfully sent her off, and the child spent several
health-giving months in the country. To help her happily to occupy her
time, the good friend bought Kate a cheap concertina. By the hour she
would sit in the sunshine, mastering the keyboard, and soon she could
play simple Army tunes. How richly our Heavenly Father blesses the gifts
of love! All unconsciously, the good soldier was preparing the Angel
Adjutant of the future to win the hopeless and despairing of many great
cities for God.
Kate had an extraordinary love for music. Her ambition had once been to
make music her profession; but after her conversion she realized that
there were higher things to live for than a successful career, and lest
music should be a snare to her, she gave it up. This determination to
allow nothing to interfere with her entire devotion to the will and
service of God was a sure foundation for her spiritual life, but as she
grew in the knowledge of God she realized that every gift may be
consecrated to God's service. She worked at the piano again; now she
wrestled with the concertina, then tackled the banjo. Later they all
became useful aids to her in her work amongst the people.
Soon after Kate's return home from the country she wrote to Lucy telling
her privately that for the upkeep of the home it was necessary that she
should seek employment. This prospect caused Lucy much anxiety. Her own
experience of earning her living in so seemingly irreproachable a
business as photography returned to her with horror. The manager of the
firm for which she had worked had been a dissolute man. Much of his
conversation in the presence of the girl employees was incomprehensible
to Lucy, who did her work faithfully, was pleasant and obliging, but
lived her life largely apart from the others. Her later experience in
moving amongst the people had enlarged her knowledge of life, and now she
realized that, as a certain white flower with smooth petals remains
unspotted at the mouth of coal pits, so by the innocency of her mind and
the purity of her spirit, she had been preserved from dangers worse than
death. The thought of Kate in such company was intolerable. With her
usual motherliness towards her sister, she replied, 'On no account must
you take a situation without my approval. Surely, there must be some
godly place in London for you. I am going to pray hard that the Lord,
will direct you to it, and you must wait till the right thing turns up.'
While Lucy was praying 'hard,' a representative of The Army Outfit
Department visited her corps. He carried uniforms and books, set up a
stall, and sold his goods before and after the meetings. Lucy knew little
about the Outfit Department, but she was inspired with an idea. People
must be needed to make the uniforms, she mused, and to sell the books,
keep the accounts, and write letters. Why should not Kate be employed by
The Army? She made inquiries of the salesman and was encouraged to write
to Headquarters. God had heard Lucy's prayer, and in a little while her
sister found herself installed as a clerk at the Outfit Department at
Clerkenwell.
Kate realized that a knowledge of shorthand would be to her advantage,
and, obtaining the necessary books, she began to study, rising in the
bright summer mornings at four o'clock and plodding her way along in
spare minutes until she attained a speed of the coveted 'hundred.'
So reliable was she found to be, that before long she received the title
of lieutenant. She was very happy. All her time was now occupied in work
for the Kingdom of Heaven; indirectly by day on correspondence and
accounts, at night at the corps, she sought for souls, and she was ever a
comfort to her mother.
So matters might have continued until to-day; indeed, one comrade of
those years, a godly woman, 'content to fill a little space if God be
glorified,' still continues in the hidden but important duty of getting
out uniform for the Salvationists. But deep in the silence of her soul
Kate heard the call of God to leave this quiet post and seek the lost.
Humanly speaking, there seemed to be every reason why she should not
embark upon the life of a field officer.
When Kate mentioned her call to her mother, the little woman was overcome
with sorrow and apprehension. She had become reconciled to Lucy's
absence, and even took pleasure in her work, but to part with her 'ewe
lamb,' to allow her to leave the shelter of her love and care and pour
out her life in Army field service, was more than her faith could accept.
She consulted the family doctor; he shook his head and declared that six
months of such a life would kill her daughter.
Not one single voice was raised to encourage Kate Lee in obeying the
Divine call. Even Lucy thought she was going 'before the time.' The
soldiers of the corps expected her health would fail. Colonel Laurie,
under whom she worked in the Outfit Department, says, 'She was a
thoroughly good girl, conscientious and faithful in her work, but quiet
and very frail. When she told me of her call, I would not discourage her
faith, but I hoped she was not mistaken. The thought that she would ever
become a spiritual leader in The Army never once occurred to me.' Mrs.
Lieut.-Colonel Moore, then Sister Stitt, Kate's friend in the home corps,
with many misgivings watched her go away. 'The home arrangements seemed
so sensible; this fresh undertaking and her breaking away, so foolish!
She was so good, always loving holiness, always sweet and unselfish, but
terribly shy; and the idea of her roughing it, or becoming anything more
than a behind-the-scenes officer, seemed impossible,' said Mrs. Moore in
passing on some reminiscences of her friend.
The day of farewell arrived, and with aching heart, conscious only of
obeying the heavenly vision, Kate exchanged her title of lieutenant for
that of cadet, took leave of her mother, and crossed London to the
Training Garrison at Clapton.
General Bramwell Booth writes of this step, 'Her beginning was a great
act of faith. She put her hand in her Master's hand, and went out on the
great adventure of Salvation Army life--stepping on to the waters with
much tremulousness and many questions--but her faith carried her
through.'
In those days the cadets were trained in small groups placed at certain
corps, and to the Chalk Farm Garrison, under Ensign, now Brigadier,
Elizabeth Thomas, Kate was appointed.
The brigadier, who has now retired from active service, delights to look
back upon those days of rough fighting which tested the mettle of cadets,
some thirty years ago. She says:--
When Kate came to me she was a sweet, fragile girl of about twenty.
There was a look of indescribable tenderness about her, and a faraway
look in her eyes. She might have been a sentimentalist, but there was
no room for dreaming in that fight. From the first Kate showed an
appreciation of her calling and a spirit that was determined to go
through to the end. I have seen her lips quiver before we set out
upon some bombardment, but her eyes were steadfast. She never refused
a duty, nor failed in a charge. Every ounce of her was devoted to the
work of the moment and to her own improvement for the future. She
gave herself to every duty as it arose--boot-blacking, scrubbing, or
scullery work--as readily as to her field training.
At one and the same time I had two cadets of exceptional
promise--Kathleen Harrington and Kate Lee. Kathleen Barrington was a
beautiful Irish girl, well educated, and from a home of wealth. She
was full of enthusiasm, dash, and courage, and possessed a deep
spiritual experience. Kate was not brilliant, and had merely an
elementary education, but she was gentle and calm and refined by the
grace of God, which seemed to permeate her whole nature. These two
girls were kindred spirits. They were one in purpose, in outlook, and
consecration. They delighted in each other's company; and yet, so
that there should be nothing that savoured of a clique in the
Garrison, they devoted themselves to the other cadets, particularly
linking up with those who were dull or timid and indulging their
friendship only on occasions when the sign of preference for each
other's company would excite no jealousy.
Kathleen Harrington, after a brief service as a single officer and
then as an officer's wife, her life beginning to fulfil its brimming
promise, radiant with happiness and victory, was promoted to Higher
Service, while Kate Lee was left to wage warfare on earth.