The Rev. Dr. E.C. Scudder submitted his resignation as pastor of Madison Square Presbyterian Church in April 1889 to take effect on June 17. The records don’t specify exactly why; Scudder’s resignation letter only notes “a number of circumstances (that) have let me to feel that it is best for us to leave San Antonio.”

One very probable reason was a continuing dispute over Scudder’s increasingly uncertain salary. For the previous several years, the church’s finances had been rocky. One of the main sources of income – individuals and families “renting” pews – had fallen off, and a growing number of members of the congregation were not meeting their pledges. Money was getting tight, and this was despite the Board of Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church was still sending $750 a year to help support the fledgling church’s operations.

There are no reasons given for the lapse. While it could have been economic hardship for some, one of those who didn’t pay for the entire year of 1888 was Miss Eleanor Brackenridge even though her brother, G.W. Brackenridge, a successful banker and businessman, was head of the Board of Trustees, the business committee of the church.

On the books, the assets of the church in 1888 totaled $17,010, and debts – a loan to Texas National Bank for reconstruction of the church following the 1886 storm – were given as $900. The problem was that the assets weren’t liquid: They consisted of the church itself, including its property and furniture.

The damage done by the storm of 1886 was by this time largely repaired, the church rebuilt and the sanctuary had even been expanded. But because of the costs, construction of the church tower and steeple, it was decided, would still have to wait.

Despite the tight times, during 1888 there was some discussion of building a pastorate. Part of the reason was that such a church-provided home for its minister was expected in those days – but a more important reason was that it was a smart economic move: If the church could built a home for the pastor, it wouldn’t have to pay him a housing allowance. This could add up if a minister stayed with a church for several years. As the Madison Square elders debated the issue, a design was even selected, a two-story building constructed of brick and wood with an indoor bathroom and a wide porch. And there was a discussion how much of Rev. Scudder’s salary he would have to give up to live in the home – if it was ever built.

In October 1888, Scudder, obviously fed up, wrote a letter to the board, which was read to members by session clerk John E. Myers. “The letter set forth the many annoyances to which the Pastor had been subjected in consequence of the failure on the part of the church to pay his salary promptly,” read Myers, “that, in justice to himself, he could not continue the pastorate under such uncertain conditions and would look for another field if the church felt it could not continue to meet its obligations in the future under the existing contract.”

The board immediately consulted its books, and found that real liabilities of 1888, including water service, maintenance and the pastor’s salary, exceeded the church’s liquid assets by more than $600. Committees were immediately formed to look at raising the pew rentals and subscriptions, now known as pledges, to try and make up the difference – and pay the pastor. They even polled each other as to how much board members would subscribe. The board came up with a pledge of $230 from its own pockets. It was not noted if any of those pledges were ever paid.

At the congregational meeting on Jan. 2, 1889, changes to the church’s constitution were made to make it easier to raise money from the membership, which by then totaled 75. One change was to abolish the pew rental plan and switch to the “envelope plan,” meaning regular pledges that could be dropped in the offering plate in a plain envelope. The right to vote was also changed “to all who contribute to the expenses of the church, a right now restricted to pewholders,” according to the minutes taken at the time.

But things didn’t get better very quickly, and Dr. Scudder turned in his resignation in April “to work in other fields” even though Myers and others had tried to talk him out of it. Scudder returned to Asbury Park, New York, to head a church near his family home. He was still owed $200 from Madison Square.

Eventually, however, Scudder was paid. In June, the board of trustees voted to borrow $220 from the Texas National Bank – for 90 days at 8 ½ percent interest – to handle that obligation. (George W. Brackenridge, president of the board of trustees, owned the rival San Antonio National Bank, but the church already had loans outstanding there.) The trustee who made the motion to borrow the money was James Roley.

A chaplain from Fort Sam Houston, Rev. George Robinson, was asked to fill in until a new pastor could be found.
Banker and railroad investor John C. French and his wife Sarah had joined the church in March 1888. Born in the 1820s, he and his brother Samuel had moved to San Antonio in the 1840s and he joined the firm of Lewis and Groesbeck, which sold groceries and handled banking transactions.

The firm became Groesbeck and French in 1854 and was later handled completely by French, who even built his own building in 1858. The French building was the city’s first regular bank until French, born in New Jersey or Pennsylvania and probably holding northern sympathies, pulled out of the banking business during the Civil War. The large stone building became headquarters of the conquering Union forces in 1865, was the Bexar County Courthouse in 1868 and served as San Antonio’s City Hall in 1879. French is also identified as the president of the San Antonio Gas Company in an 1861 court case where he was a witness.

French obviously had some investment capital even before becoming a notable businessman and banker. In 1850, he and seven other local businessmen, including a local rancher named Samuel Maverick, were granted a charter to found the San Antonio and Mexican Gulf Railroad Co. which was to connect San Antonio and Victoria with the Gulf Coast.
Sam Maverick is a famous name in San Antonio history. He served as a guide for the Texian volunteers when Ben Milam led his 300 men to seize San Antonio from Santa Anna’s brother-in-law General Martin Perfecto de Cos. That is why the Texans were inside the Alamo when, two months later, General Santa Anna laid siege to the old mission.

After the founding of the Republic of Texas, Maverick, a lawyer and land speculator, served as one of the first mayors of San Antonio and representative to the Republic’s Congress. He was also the man who, believing in an open range, didn’t brand his cattle, so all unbranded cows eventually became known as “maverick’s.”

But historically significant people didn’t always make the best businesspeople. The railroad investment of Maverick, French and others came to a bad end. Actual building of the rail line occurred in fits and starts and stopped completely during the Civil War. During Reconstruction, the federal government rebuilt the war-damaged line for $45,000, billing the owners. Unable to repay the levy, government agents foreclosed on the railroad in 1870 when French was serving its president. The stockholders lost all of their money.

French himself, returning to his banking career, died in May 1889, but not before purchasing land at Richmond and Camden streets near Madison Square’s sanctuary for a proposed manse. His wife remained as a member of the congregation and would play an important role in the life of the church.

In July 1889, church leaders believed they had found a pastor. Rev. J.W. Miller was elected by a unanimous vote and declared to be the pastor-elect at a salary of $1,200 a year.

And, in the shadow of French’s death, officers resolved “whereas a manse or parsonage is of vital interest to this church, not only giving a permanent home to the pastor but placing the church in a position of independence and self support, therefore it is the sense of this meeting that earnest and continued efforts should be made to erect a suitable building on the lot given by our deceased brother, Mr. John C. French.”

But, new house or not, Rev. Miller declined the call. He was, by that time, living in England, he wrote. Apparently, moving to Texas, still considered part of the Wild West, was too much of a change for him.

In October, after a service conducted by Chaplin Robinson, another nomination was called for. There was some discussion whether or not this was the right move, and the congregation was polled to decide if another pastor should be called. It was close, but, by a vote of 23 to 22, Madison Square decided to seek out another new pastor.

Almost immediately, the Rev. F.F. Barrett was named and was officially called as pastor-elect. The session was authorized to offer him a year’s contract at a salary of $1,500 – $1,100 from the congregation and $400 from the Board of Home Missions in Philadelphia. Barrett’s name shows up in church minutes as participating in votes and financial issues prior to this date, so he might have been immediately available. In any case, he apparently accepted the call very quickly.

At the same meeting, Mrs. French was offered official condolences for the death of her husband and the record was directed “to record our appreciation of his Christian character and worth and his loving interests in our church.”

Sarah – who was nicknamed Sally – French was rapidly becoming a force in the church, serving on a number of important committees and, in April 1890, she proposed that she pay for a new roof for the church as well as a new tile sidewalk and curbing around the property and neighboring parsonage lot. The board of trustees quickly accepted with thanks.

Barrett was installed May 4, 1890. And, although the requested funding from Philadelphia was received, along with it came a warning. The Board of Home Missions informed Madison Square in October that, after nearly eight years of sending funds to the church, it was time for it to become self-supporting.

“The board has, at times, exceeded its ordinary rules of administration in the amounts of aid grant this church and for the past three years has done so in extending the time for which it was entitled to aid under the said rules,” the notice said. It added, almost parenthetically, that the board itself was currently in heavy debt. The bottom line: No more funding from Philadelphia after Oct. 10, 1890.

Church leaders responded with a resolution of thankfulness to the board and voted to pass a piece of paper among the congregation to raise $100 to pay Barrett the remainder of his salary covering October to January 1891. Subscriptions totaled $123.50.

May 1892 brought more bad news. The church, it was reported, was in bad physical shape and needed repairs valued by a local contractor at $450. Mrs. French and a number of other ladies had given “an entertainment” at the San Antonio Opera House that raised $107, but that still left nearly $350 to be raised. A “committee of ladies” was appointed to find the money.

Meanwhile, session clerk John Myers reported – it appears he had this duty often – that Rev. Barrett asked that relationship between he and the church be dissolved. Barrett had been in place for more than two years and it had been his understanding that he was only going to serve a single year. His resignation was accepted May 1, but it nearly wasn’t accepted at all. The motion to grant the reverend’s request was passed by a congregational vote 28 to 27.

“Rev. F.F. Barrett, our Pastor, having requested us to unite with him in asking the Presbytery of Austin to dissolve his pastoral relation to us as a church and congregation. In reluctantly granting this request, we desire to express our confidence in his high Christian character, and in his ability and fidelity as a minister of the gospel. It is not without sincere regret that we yield to the breaking up of a relation, which has been to us a source of so much help and encouragement in the Christian Life, as well as of prosperity to the church,” wrote church secretary J.J. Olsen Jr.

“We recognize with gratitude his personal worth, and his kind and loving spirit as our pastor and friend, and into whatever field the Providence of God shall call him, our prayer will ever be, for his prosperity, usefulness and happiness.”

It is not noted who occupied the pulpit from May to August, but Aug. 14 a call was extended to the Rev. Lewis H. Morey.
Morey had been pastor of First Presbyterian of Stillwater, but according to that church’s history, resigned because of ill health in 1892. Perhaps that was the reason, but he joined the San Antonio church with vigor. He was offered $1,400 a year for the first year and $1,500 a year after that.

What’s more, a manse would be built for him “as soon as possible” on land now occupied by the Assembly Hall. The new home was to cost $1,822.50, a figure that did not include plumbing fixtures, fences or a stable. Elder James Roley quickly donated the missing elements.

Morey was enthusiastic about the project — he no doubt wanted someplace to live in his new city — and loaned the church $1,000, nearly a year’s salary, at 8 percent interest to be repaid in two years, all to get construction of the pastor’s home started. The board of trustees, in turn, found Morey and his family a nearby house and rented it for $30 a month until the manse was completed.

By early 1894, church membership stood at 173 and Sunday School enrollment was 153.

But more financial difficulties were coming. The years 1893-94 signaled a sweeping national depression and a report in March 1893 caused Rev. Morey to express disappointment that “there was such a deficiency in pledges towards supporting the church for the year.” He suggested that the session and board agree on some action at that very meeting to increase subscriptions. He then increased his subscription to $100 a year. Several elders, including S.D. Scudder and James Roley promised to increase their contributions as well.

Early in 1894, Texas National Bank, which then held some of the church’s notes and had been such a regular source of money for Madison Square, was declared insolvent and closed its doors. While the bank held loans due from the church of nearly $1,000, it also held the church’s liquid funds. Lost to the church was $80 in cash collections, $165 in funding set aside for music and $100 contributed by Mrs. French for a horse and buggy for the pastor. Church trustees cut a deal with bank officials to have those amounts lost credited against the debts, and pledges were made to meet the remaining $643.
But, trustees Drs. Milton and J. Bliem reminded the congregation in March 1894, there was still $1,000 due on the parsonage that was secured by a mortgage and $325 in notes due to the San Antonio National Bank. Luckily, the bank’s president was Col. Brackenridge, who extended the terms of that loan another year, into spring of 1895.

Session clerk John Myers died on May 28, 1894. While he probably died rather suddenly – he was still recording the session minutes as late as May 13 – it is also likely that his death came from some long illness or disability. “In his patience and fortitude under years of constant suffering, he displayed the heroic qualities of a true soldier never surpassed on any field of battle,” the session noted in a tribute to Myers.

The financial problems, however, remained. In November, a special request had to be made to the congregation to come up with $300 owed to Rev. Morey as salary. A December meeting brought news that the church would have a year-end deficit of nearly $400. Another congregational meeting was called to raise the money.

In 1895, more money was needed. The east wall – today the front of the church – was showing cracks that were widening, and contractors and architects called to examine the damage and provide repair estimates reported that the wall had been so poorly constructed (probably after the huge windstorm nearly a decade before) that it would have to be torn down to the foundation and rebuilt. Estimated costs: $2,260. The board turned again to Henry Lodger, the agent for “our devoted Mrs. S.R. French, to borrow as much of the (funds) as was necessary at 6 percent interest.”

December’s trustee meeting started like many others. Reviewing the books for the year, trustees found that, while the congregation pledged $892.50 toward the needed repairs, only $552.50 had been actually paid – and the church treasury only had $106 in it. This did not include the loans from Mrs. French which totaled $2,165.

In the midst of the grim news came a gift. Mrs. French, at her own expense, had “put a beautiful spire on the tower (finally replacing the one the storm blew down in 1886) and place therein a 2,600-pound McShane bell.” Her generosity came to “upwards of $3,000.”

But even with that bountiful bequest, the bills still needed to be paid. The board of trustees had gathered that Dec. 3 to vote for a congregational meeting to authorize sending Mrs. French a note on her outstanding debt. But before they could make a move, a letter was read from Mr. Lodger, saying that the widow had decided to cancel the $2,165 debt altogether.
The board enthusiastically decided to call a congregational meeting for the following Sunday to clear up yet another debt – $1,000 still owned on the parsonage construction – and use the outstanding pledge of $340 or whatever could be collected as the nucleus for a parsonage debt fund.

In addition, “the deepest gratitude to Mrs. French was expressed and the secretary was instructed to present a suitable resolution to the congregation for their endorsement.” The renovated church sanctuary reopened Jan. 3, 1897, with a sermon from Rev. D. Little, a synod missionary, and “universal appreciation was expressed of the beautiful and appropriate decoration of the interior and the complete safety of the building,” wrote church secretary M.J. Bliem.
Well, perhaps not complete safety. The board of trustees met in March and voted to put a lightening rod on the steeple.
Despite Mrs. French’s generosity, the money problems continued for Madison Square. The same March the lightening rod was approved, a motion to cut the pastor’s salary by $150 a year, and to cut the organist’s salary by $10 a month. Professor C.S. Filler, the organist, agreed to continue his duties and volunteered to donate another $10 a month for expenses. The chorustess – basically, a song leader – saw her position eliminated. Altogether, the savings came to $400 a year.

But it wasn’t enough. In September, the board met again, and forecasted a deficit of $550, even with the cutbacks. Professor Filler appeared before the group and asked to enlarge the church’s music program. Instead, the board closed down the pipe organ – which ran on water which had to be paid for – and dismissed Filler. That saved another $230 a year.

Professor Filler’s reaction was not recorded but, a year later in early 1899, the board did vote him a gift of $40 to be sent to his new residence in New York. The organ was reconnected later that year to the city’s sewer system and presumably was operational again.