One of the most unusual funeral services in Cincinnati took place in 1882 when a Baptist preacher opened his ministry to the “fallen women” of the Queen City by holding a religious service for a departed “cyprian.” The city was scandalized, but his next service was packed.

Kitty Clifford, the cyprian in question, died mid-song in the parlor of Kitty Bennett’s brothel at 297 Elm Street on Sunday, 22 January 1882. A lively group had gathered, and Ms. Clifford announced that she was going to see Gilbert & Sullivan’s new opera, “Patience.” It could not possibly, she said, compare with Edmond Audran’s “Olivette” of a few years earlier. With this, she sat down at the piano and began to sing the Farandole from the conclusion of Olivette’s second act:

Love is a draught divine

Rarer than the rarest wine

“Suddenly she fell from the stool to the floor in a swoon,” reported the Enquirer, “and the blood gushed from her mouth.” The gentlemen present, cads all, fled from the house. Kitty Bennett sent a servant to fetch a doctor but he arrived just as the poor girl breathed her last.

As the mortal remains of Kitty Clifford were sent to Epply’s funeral parlor, two odd developments emerged.

First, a “missionary Baptist preacher,” one Rev. John Morris, appeared at Kitty Bennett’s to offer a religious service for the young woman. He made no promises because it was uncertain that any church or respectable building would allow such a service for such a woman.

Second, Kitty Clifford’s past began to reveal itself. It had been known for some time that she came from a cultured family. As her friends pieced together anecdotes she had told, it came out that Ms. Clifford was born into a very respectable Baltimore family. Her real name was Lillie A. Hunter. She was 28 years old. It was said that her father had once been mayor [apparently untrue]. She was one of three sisters who had lost their mother in a horrible fire. Their father remarried and the stepmother drove the girls from the house. All had followed a path of “lapsed virtue.”

Kitty “took up” with a man who presented her as his wife and they had a daughter, now about seven. He occasionally visited when he was in Cincinnati, and Kitty kept a photo of her daughter - now being raised by a relative - on her bureau. After some time in the “sporting houses” of New York, she had entered several houses in Cincinnati, most recently with Kitty Bennett.

Rev. Morris was able to secure the auditorium of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union on Sixth Street, and there the funeral was held. The room, seating about 400 was packed.

“A few ladies of the Temperance Union occupied seats in the front of the hall and a few unnoticed may have scattered themselves throughout the audience. But the main portion was made up of women of the town. They were there collected from all the many houses, high and low - if such distinction be admissible - in the city,” according to the Gazette.

Rev. Morris warmed to his topic and preached mightily on forgiveness. Without addressing the sin most of the audience expected him to address, but stressed that all mankind had sinned and required salvation.

“One thing, however, the funeral did do, and that was it succeeded in getting to church people who are not accustomed to that sort of thing,” the Gazette opined.

They turned out again a few days later when word got around that Rev. Morris would be preaching on the topic of “The Saved Harlot.” This time, Murdock’s Hall was the venue, and it was standing room only.

“The sermon,” the Gazette reported in obvious disappointment, “was far from being of the sensational order, being mainly doctrinal.”

The saved harlot in question was Rahab, the prostitute of Jericho, and the text was Hebrews 11:31, “By faith the harlot Rahab perished not with them that believed not.”

This time, Rev. Morris made a direct appeal to the “women of the town” to depart their fallen lives and to repent. He had been told, according to the Enquirer, “by professed Christians that he was ruining the church by preaching to harlots, but those who had not departed from the paths of virtue and honesty, and whose characters are whiter than snow, and without a blot on their fair name, must perish, unless they have faith and believe, while the worn out harlot, who has become a nuisance on the street, believing, will be saved.”