"At once I reported to the Board, and recommended that Brother Holcombe be at once employed and the work set on foot without delay. G.o.d 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 G.o.d; and He has the record of it in His book. We had a noon-day service every day, except Sunday, and a Sat.u.r.day evening service every week.

"The services were advertised and men stationed at the door invited the pa.s.ser-by to come in. At the meetings all cla.s.ses of men were represented. There were strong, wise, honorable business-men and there were tramps and drunkards with all the cla.s.ses 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 pa.s.sed 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. G.o.d 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 cla.s.s 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 sh.o.r.e 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 G.o.d, 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 a.s.sociates 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 G.o.d."

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 circ.u.mstantial.

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 a.s.sociation 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 n.o.body 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 cla.s.s 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 ill.u.s.trate what has been said:

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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, G.o.d 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 appet.i.te 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 c.u.mberland rivers. Coming down the c.u.mberland on one trip I was too sick to work, and the boat put me ash.o.r.e 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 sc.r.a.pe. 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 appet.i.te 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 appet.i.te, 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."

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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, a.s.sistant 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 cla.s.ses. 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 s.p.a.cious 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 cla.s.s 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 cla.s.s who are not yet old enough to sew. For this reason, the cla.s.s just mentioned is called The Missionary Cla.s.s, 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 st.i.tches 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 pa.s.ses examination, it is given to the child who made it.

There is a cla.s.s of boys, sixty in number, ranging from five to twelve years of age. These are first taught to sew on b.u.t.tons 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 Sat.u.r.day morning at 9:15. The opening services consist of--

1. Singing (Gospel Hymns).

2. Responsive recitation of a Psalm, or the Beat.i.tudes 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.