The captain was going to take charge of her first corps, and as the
train sped along her heart beat faster as each stop brought her
nearer her destination. Would anyone be there to meet her? What was
the town like? And the people? Above everything else, what about
the lieutenant? These were the thoughts that came racing through her
brain as the train dashed along.
The train slowed down. A porter's voice announced the station, and
she looked but of the window for a Salvation welcome, but no
friendly face was there. Leaving her baggage, except for her
handbag, at the station, she trudged off to find the quarters. There
was no welcome there. After securing the key from a neighbour she
entered the dwelling. Fortunately, there was sufficient tea in the
caddy to make the longed-for cup, and with the lunch that had been
forgotten on the exciting journey, she refreshed herself. There was
no letter; no news of the lieutenant, and the indifferent neighbour
could only say that she had been asked to hold the key until the
new captain arrived.
The time for the meeting drew near, but no Salvationist called, and
a feeling of strangeness and loneliness came upon the captain.
Falling on her knees, she called upon God to help her. The
realization of His Presence, the prospect of having a little corps
of her very own, enabled her to smile at her fears, and to sally
forth to seek The Army hall. At last it was discovered. Such a tiny
place! A small burying ground surrounded it, giving it a dismal
appearance. The door was closed, so the captain went and inquired
for the key, and was informed that the hall would be opened in time
for the meeting. After waiting for some time, a girl appeared, and,
in a sullen way, opened the door. 'If only the lieutenant were
here,' the captain thought. By 8:30 two lads and a few children had
mustered. Her first meeting in her own corps was one of the most
difficult she had conducted. There was a strange something, a
mysterious atmosphere which she could not understand.
The last train did not bring the lieutenant, and the captain,
committing herself to God, decided she must make the best of the
circumstances. She had no desire for supper and went to bed.
Awakened next morning by a stream of beautiful sunshine, she
realized where she was, and the dreariness and coldness of the
past night's experiences returned. 'If only the lieutenant were
here,' again she sighed. 'If--but this will not do,' she cried
aloud, 'I must not let the first little struggle discourage me.
Perhaps I was cold and tired last night, and perhaps the people
did not really expect me--or perhaps--! Anyway, I am going to do
my very best for God and souls here.' Looking up to her Heavenly
Father, she sought strength for the day. She made a scanty
breakfast, then set about, righting the quarters. Her box had
arrived, and from it she took her knick-knacks; a few cheery
texts for the wall, and her beloved books, helped to make the
place look homelike. Then she scanned the visitation book, making
a plan for the afternoon.
That first visitation was a trying experience. 'How strange and
cold these people seem to be!' There was no answer to her knock
from two or three houses. Everybody appeared to be out. At the
next house she was sure she heard a sound that indicated that
some one was at home, so she knocked with a determination that
secured an answer. An upstairs window was thrown open. 'What do
you want?' snarled an angry voice. 'Does Mrs. S---- live here?'
'Yes, what do you want with her?' 'I'm the new captain, and I've
come to see her, is she at home?' 'I'm Mrs. S----, but I'm too
busy to come down. Good-day!' The captain turned away, sick at
heart, but determined to have another fry. Still, that afternoon
was a very disappointing one, and she brought it to a finish with
another visit to the station to inquire if there was a likely
train that might bring the lieutenant. At night she went alone
again to the hall, opened the door, but waited in vain for even
the sullen girl and the little children.
On returning to the quarters, she found a letter awaiting her from
the Divisional Commander regretting that the lieutenant was ill,
and could not join her for at least a month. 'A month alone in
this cold atmosphere!' It seemed an endless age to anticipate, but
now she faced the worst, and was determined to fight through to
victory.
Saturday night found her at the open-air stand, waiting and hoping
that some one would turn up, when to her relief, she espied a
brass instrument glistening in the distance, and she rejoiced to
greet her first bandsman. He approached in an indifferent way, but
she was becoming more used to the 'cold climate.' When other
bandsmen appeared she felt that, in spite of the stiffness, she
loved her corps already. She would have been quite happy had the
lieutenant been there, but to walk in front of that band without
the satisfaction of knowing there was one sister in the rear,
_was_ a trial.
She put her best into the meetings; gave the address that had been
prepared with tears and care, but her words seemed to fall flat.
The prayer-meeting was hard and no souls came to the mercy-seat. At
the end of that first week-end, she exclaimed to a local officer
her surprise that no sisters attended the open-air meetings, and
that everybody seemed strange. 'Oh, so you don't understand?' he
said. 'You have got on the wrong clothes!' 'What do you mean?' the
captain inquired. 'Well, we are all disappointed. We wanted men
officers. You have got on the wrong clothes.' The captain did not
reply, but determined that she would make those soldiers want her
before she concluded her stay amongst them. She had a difficult
task, the people were clannish, and their prejudice was not easily
overcome.
Her first move was to arrange a social cup of tea. She prepared a
dainty little spread, although the funds were low, for she did
the baking herself. Every soldier was invited personally, and she
felt rewarded when twenty-five out of her fifty soldiers responded.
The little venture seemed to break the ice, and this first sign of
success was followed by a tea for sisters only, and the
disappointed sisters became quite reconciled to their girl captain.
The long month at last came to an end. With great happiness the
captain welcomed her lieutenant. A bright fire was in the grate,
the kettle singing on the hob, as over their first cup of tea they
rejoiced that love had conquered. In the lieutenant's welcome
meeting, the break came, when a number of soldiers reconsecrated
themselves to God. On the following Sunday night, the address was
cut short by a woman rushing to the penitent-form, followed by
several others. The soldiers were stirred, and the fires of love
and enthusiasm burnt up the smallness and prejudice. Their cup ran
over when they saw a poor drunkard of their town changed by the
power of God.
Prejudice is a difficult thing to overcome. It starves the soul
and withholds the blessing of God; but the fire of love can
overcome it and enable one to triumph even over the ban of 'wrong
clothes.'
After commanding three corps, giving to the people of each town her best
service, a sharp attack of pneumonia carried Captain Lee away from corps
work, and for a time it seemed that a constitutional bronchial weakness,
now aggravated, would bring her regular public work to an early
termination.
A term in the Naval and Military Department at Headquarters in London
introduced Kate to a new sphere of Army service. Hitherto, her vision of
the Salvation battlefield had been limited to the particular corps at
which she soldiered or commanded, but contact with men who went to the
ends of the earth and found The Army at almost every port, blessing them
in soul and body, lifted her horizon until it became world-wide. Kate Lee
began to realize the greatness of the organization to which she belonged.
A breakdown in the Naval and Military Home at Chatham placed Captain Kate
in charge of that institution, with full responsibility for the catering,
house-keeping, and meetings, and the visitation of ships in the harbour.
A sister Salvationist writes:--
When first I saw her at the Naval and Military Home, I was impressed
by her innocence, youth, and fragile appearance. For such a girl to
bear the responsibility of so large an institution, was a marvel in
my eyes. With one or two other comrades I used to accompany her to
the ships in the Medway, to sing to the men. When a good crowd had
gathered on the deck, Captain Kate would speak to them and invite
them to come to The Army Home when they were ashore. The Home was
packed out. She conducted bright meetings, and many soldiers and
sailors were converted. Despite her youth, the men looked to her as
an elder sister; gave into her keeping their bank-books and money,
and sought her advice in their difficulties. So greatly did the Home
succeed during the captain's stay, that she had the pleasure of
seeking for a site on which now stands the Home which does such
excellent service in Chatham to-day.
With health fully restored, the call of the field was insistent, and
Captain Lee begged to be allowed to take a corps again. She was appointed
to Whitstable, Kent, and for the next fourteen years she poured out her
life as a ceaseless offering for the souls of the people in town and
city, in various parts of the United Kingdom.
V