Soon after she arrived here she gave me a list of questions,
including, 'How many saloons in the town? How many houses of
ill fame? How many places of worship? What proportion of people
go to church? When she compared these figures with the population
she was able to estimate the grip of evil on the town, and the
efforts made by the people of God to combat it. She reckoned all
the godless people of the town were her concern, and laid her plans
accordingly. She called upon the police, the civic authorities, and
the ministers, intimating that she was there for the good of the city,
and asked to be allowed to co-operate with them. It was not long
before the governing people realized that an uncommon force for
righteousness had come among them.
Says another of her local officers, 'Our city had never been so conscious
of the presence of The Salvation Army as a regenerating force in its
midst, as during her stay.'
Her ministering spirit played like a flame upon every section of the
corps until the whole organization pulsated with life. Every evening of
the week the citadel was ablaze with light and humming with activity, the
soldiers unwilling to stay away one night for fear of missing a good
thing.
In order to promote a spirit of prayer in a corps, the Adjutant's plan
was to form a prayer league. She chose the most spiritual amongst her
soldiers and adherents, and pledged them to spend a portion of each day
in prayer for an outpouring of the Spirit of God upon the corps and town.
These comrades became a great strength in the battles for souls which
developed. At some of her corps a few of these comrades remained in a
room praying during the whole of the service on Sunday night; and when
the prayer meeting began, they quietly made their way to either side of
the penitent-form; their earnest pleading for the unsaved having much to
do with the victories gained. Others were formed into a "Fishing
Brigade." [Footnote: Salvationists selected to speak personally with
those likely to be brought to decision for Christ.] These were posted
about the hall, and, at a given signal in the prayer meeting, moved
amongst the unsaved and urged them to decision.
Soldier-making was Adjutant Lee's object. A full penitent-form meant
little to her unless the kneeling penitents became fighters for God. To
this end she visited, and 'nursed' and trained and commanded--and with
good results. But while she had a keen eye for the new recruit, she
mourned and battled for the deserters. She had taken to her heart the Old
General's counsel on this score, part of which reads:--
The Field Officer must watch against heart backsliding. When soldiers
drop off from knee-drill; when they are not found in the ranks in bad
weather; when they no longer remain to the prayer meetings; when they
come only now and then to the week-night services; and when they
cease to testify as frequently, heartily, and definitely as in former
days, the F.O. should conclude there is something wrong; decay has
commenced. He should deal with such at once, and give them no rest.
No officer should refuse to seek the restoration of a backslider
because of the disgrace he has brought upon the corps by his falling
into old ways; old habits of drunkenness or uncleanness, fighting or
thieving, or any other vulgar form of sin. The F.O. should consider
the shame of the man himself, if he is permanently left to rot in
the ditch of corruption, and the sorrows that burden the heart of
His Master, for one for whom He has given His precious Blood.
Heart backsliders or open backsliders were all the same to her--deserters
to be followed down and brought back to loyal service. One tells that he
had been away from the fight for six years. She heard of him by a casual
remark one comrade made to another, got his address and surprised his
home by a visit.
'After that,' says this comrade, 'she slipped into our house for a few
minutes every day until she won us back to God and The Army. Sometimes
she might not even sit down; just kneel a moment and pray with us. At
other times she merely put her head round the door and smiled; said, "God
bless you," and was gone. Her loving interest broke us down, and we
hungered to get back into the fight.'
Another comrade had fought so successful a fight that the devil thought
it worth while to centre his heavy guns upon him; he was so smashed
spiritually that he seemed past mending. But not to Kate Lee's faith. She
prayed over him, believed for him, refused to give up his soul as lost
until at length he again began to hope in God for deliverance. He was
fully restored and became a devoted bandmaster.
Some backsliders who withstood her pleadings in life were brought home by
her death. 'The last time I saw her,' said an old man with broken voice,
'she held an open-air service in our street, came into my house, wept
over me and prayed for me. I used to serve under her. When she died----.'
He is fighting the good fight now as in his best days.
The bandsmen of The Army are a remarkable body of men. They are all
converted, many from lives of desperate sin. Others have grown up in The
Army; almost all have learned what they know of music in the ranks.
Twenty years ago, the latter remark might have been received with a
smile. Not so to-day, for while the object of Salvation Army music is the
same as when it was first admitted as an auxiliary in our efforts to
attract the unsaved, it has passed from the crudeness of its beginnings
to a high standard of excellence. The bands of The Salvation Army now
rank amongst the best in the world, and are an appreciated institution in
most towns and villages. The bandsmen, who find their own uniforms and
receive neither fee nor reward for their services, devote much of their
leisure to Salvation Army service. They carry the message of salvation by
music and song into city streets and slums, into the lanes of the
country; to hospitals and asylums, and, besides, lead the singing in The
Army citadels.
As might be expected amongst a body of clean-living, energetic men, there
are occasions when matters of contention arise which require careful
handling. More than once Kate Lee 'scented' trouble in her bands and
resorted to a night of prayer, as a preparation for dealing with the
problem. She would come from her little sanctuary, clothed with such
meekness, tact, and strength that never once did she fail to stem the
difficulty and to hold the men to the highest ideals of Salvationism.
If a whole band were affected, she saw the men one by one before she met
them together. At one corps where the inclination to worldly amusement
threatened serious loss, the Adjutant held a meeting which lasted until
midnight. Lovingly, faithfully, firmly, she reminded the men of the high
purposes of The Salvation Army, the condition of the world in relation to
God, the spiritual danger of mixing with the ungodly in their amusement.
Quietly, the men viewed the matter in the light of eternity and made
their choice. It was according to the Adjutant's standards. Not, as she
was careful to explain, because they were hers as the commanding officer,
but because they were standards of The Army, based upon the changeless
principles of the Kingdom that is not of this world. She found, as many
another servant of God has found, that, 'Strongly-formed purposes can be
changed and men's hearts influenced by prayer alone, and that surrenders
made and principles accepted at such a time make for the permanent change
of character.'
The wives of Salvation Army bandsmen make their sacrifices. Sunday is
seldom a rest-day for Salvationists. Bandsmen are required to be present
at six engagements, three out-door and three in. Their wives see to the
children and the meals and send their husbands to their God-given
labours. They were not forgotten by the Adjutant. She took a delight in
preparing a pretty tea for them at her quarters, and inviting them to a
little party all of their own. Serving them herself, she spent an evening
of music and song amongst them, speaking words in appreciation and
gratitude of their unselfish service, and making them feel that their
part in the War was well worth while.
There are few rich people in The Salvation Army. Soldiers and adherents
are trained to give according to their ability towards the upkeep of
their respective corps; but when the best that may be is done in this
direction, there is, in most cases, a considerable deficit remaining
which must be met by public contribution.
As an example of the financial responsibilities which Kate Lee
successfully discharged, the Brighton Congress Hall might be taken. Here
the expenses for the year ran into some four thousand dollars. The
Adjutant desired to give all her time to 'pulling sinners out of the
fire.' But there was the rent; the upkeep of a great hall and her
quarters, fire and lighting, printing, advertising, in addition to the
modest allowance for herself and her two lieutenants. To cope with such
problems, Kate Lee brought the qualities of prayer and plan. 'A model of
method,' is how her treasurer here describes her. 'She ascertained the
full extent of her liabilities, and probable income, and laid plans to
meet the obligations with the least possible hindrance to spiritual
effort.'
She never allowed lack of money to hinder her in a forward movement.
Going to the charge of another large corps, she had decided upon an
immediate campaign for souls. But awaiting her was a debt of five hundred
dollars! However, in her Welcome meeting, she committed herself to the
spiritual campaign, and enlisted the soldiers' interest. The following
morning she received a letter of welcome from her Divisional Commander,
who incidentally informed her that the Division was financially in rather
difficult circumstances, and that he was looking to her to assist him by
reducing the debt on the corps as soon as possible. She was seized with
the temptation, for a moment, to attack and dispose of the debt at once,
but convinced that her first decision to be of God, she committed the
money matter to Him, and began to organize the corps for a revival.
The month's effort was to include house-to-house visitation, the
'bombardment' of saloons, and a Sunday Salvation campaign in a theatre.
Her faith was tried; money was difficult to raise, and as she went
forward with her plans for soul-winning her liabilities increased. 'The
theatre will be a fizzle, and you will have a big deficit there,'
discouraged the Tempter. But Kate would not be moved from her purpose.
The special Sunday proved to be a day of victory. At night, two notorious
characters knelt at the penitent-form in addition to a number of
promising young people. The expenses were met, and the soldiers enthused.
The following morning, as the Adjutant was seeing a visitor off at the
railway station, a gentleman accosted her cheerfully, 'Adjutant, I have
some encouraging news for you,' he said. 'A friend of mine was present at
the theatre last night, and he was so impressed with what he saw and
heard that he intends to give you two hundred and fifty dollars!' 'Oh,
praise the Lord!' responded the Adjutant. When she met her soldiers with
the news, and showed them how God was honouring faith and obedience, they
united forthwith to wipe out the debt. In came promises of different
amounts. Ten days later the debt had vanished and a glorious work of
soul-saving went forward.
Kate Lee's lieutenants have lively memories of her methods and enthusiasm
in conducting the annual Self-Denial Appeals. Says one:--
The first "S.-D." I was with her, she said to me one morning, 'Now,
dear, I must get this all planned out and see my target on paper
before I meet the corps. I'm going upstairs, and I don't want to see
anyone or be disturbed for anything.' Dinner time came, and I
wondered what to do, and thought I had better take her dinner to
her. When I appeared at her door with the tray, she laughed heartily
with and at me, carried the tray down and we had dinner together.
After the scheme was launched she kept in touch with the whole corps,
encouraging and holding each up to his or her share in the effort,
until it finished successfully.
She had settled ideas about personal self-denial. Another of her
lieutenants tells that, during one Self-Denial week, a friend, thinking
that the officers might be depriving themselves of nourishing food, left
a basket packed with fresh goodies on the doorstep. The Adjutant smiled,
sold the goods and the basket, and put the money to the fund.
The soldiers who fought under Kate Lee revere her memory. Volumes of
tributes to their love and appreciation of her spirit, her ability and
service, could be given.
'What I thought she was when she came to us, I was sure she was when she
left.' A testimony from a village comrade all unconscious probably of its
full significance!
'Like a specialist she was; always a queue of people waiting to see her
after the meetings,' says one of her city hall-keepers. 'What did they
want? Spiritual help, guidance, advice, about all manner of things; they
knew her heart was big enough to take in all the troubles they could
bring, and they never thought that her body might crack up.'
Another recalls her love for the Colours, and her loyalty to the
standards of her General.
'My, but she loved the Flag! Once the colour-sergeant was away, and it
was suggested we should go to the open-air meeting without the Flag. "Oh,
no! The General wouldn't like to see the march without the Flag," she
said; so a sister carried it.'
The following sidelights are contributed by a sister soldier of keen
observation and sweet spirit. 'When the Adjutant died, I felt I had lost
a dear and close relative, though as a matter of fact I had never caught
much more than glimpses of her. My husband was one of her local officers
and she frequently came to our home, but she did her business and went,
never remaining even for a cup of tea unless it were poured out and she
could take it without waiting. The most time I spent with her was once
when she returned to conduct some special services here, and was
billetted with us.
'She was too full of her mission to make friends for herself, but
although so busy she did not rush. She never had too many irons in the
fire to listen to a sorrow; and the few moments she could spare you knew
were all your own.' This characteristic is laid away in scores of hearts
like a sweet perfume which gives out fragrance every time it is stirred.
"She took time, she always took time to listen," whispered one of her
converts looking into my face with an adoring love in her eyes that was
almost anguish. The story of her wonderful deliverance, more full of
romance and tragedy than any novel, may not appear here for obvious
reasons.
Continuing this soldier says, 'She seemed to put the work of two lives
into one. Such a brisk walk she had! People pulled themselves to
attention and things began to move faster whenever she came on the scene.
"This is quite a feminine little bit"--I never saw her look into a shop
window! She had not time for even the innocent interests of most good
women.
'She lived in the spirit of the command, "Be pitiful, be courteous." The
graciousness of her spirit always reminded me of Christ. She did not seem
to understand the meaning of sarcasm.
'Her health was very frail. Whilst stationed here, she was often fighting
bronchitis, but she never spoke of herself. Never even said she was
tired. There was not a trace of self-pity or self-love about her.'
From many sources one hears of this continual fight with and triumph over
physical weakness. A woman hall-keeper tells, 'One evening I caught her
creeping like an old woman, through the dimly lighted hall, bent almost
double with bronchitis. "Oh, Adjutant," I cried, "you're ill. You should
go home to bed." When she knew I had seen her, she steadied herself to
take breath, smiled sternly, then waved me off, and presently walked
briskly into her converts' meeting.' A lieutenant tells, 'Sometimes in
the morning she looked so ill and old, and I would beg of her to let me
take her breakfast to bed. But she would laugh and say, "What's the good
of giving way to feelings? I'll be all right when I warm up to work."
Though ever a spartan to herself she was always tender in her treatment
of others.'
The following extracts from an article by the late Mrs. Colonel Ewens
appeared in 'The Officer' under the title of 'My Ideal Field Officer.' It
indicates the high esteem in which Adjutant Lee's Divisional Commanders
held her:--
For some years now, a woman Officer who is still in the field, has
been the living embodiment of my 'Ideal Field Officer.'
I was conducting a Junior meeting at her corps when the bandmaster
stepped into a side room for his instrument. I prepared to accompany
him to the open-air meeting and casually remarked that the officers
had gone on. 'You may trust our captain; I have never known her
late,' was the rejoinder.