Mr. Nation was correspondent for the Houston Post and he wrote

a letter speaking of the bad-influence and conduct of these young men the

night before; screaming about the streets and disturbing the peace generally.

He went down to meet the trains about twelve o'clock at night. The

next night after the article appeared in the Post, he came in and woke

me up saying: "Wife get up; I have been beaten almost to death;"

and lighting a lamp, I found that his body was covered with bruises.

I bathed him in cold water and otherwise tried to relieve him. He

was too faint to tell me the trouble, only the boys had beaten him. I knelt

down by the window to pray to God. I began by calling on God to send a

punishment on people that would do such a mean, cowardly act. I prayed

until I received perfect deliverance from that kind of a spirit, and when I

got up from off my knees, it was four o'clock in the morning.

In this crowd was a family of Gibson boys, whose father was an

infidel, and encouraged his sons in this matter and in all their bad ways.

There were also other boys, Peason, Little, Winston; twenty-one in all.

A man by the name of Henry George asked Mr. Nation to come and sit

on a bale of cotton on the depot platform, and talk with him; another one

of these boys came up and threw Mr. Nation backwards on the platform.

Then each one gave him a hit with a stick, or a cane. I don't think there

are but two or three of those boys living now. After moving to Kansas,

a few months after this I returned to Texas for a visit. I then looked,

upon the graves of four of the Gibsons. "Truly, vengeance is mine, I will

repay," saith the Lord.

Mr. Nation was very unpopular with the "Jaybird" faction, because

they said no Republican should stay in Fort Bend County. The bitterness

between these two factions broke out in a war. Garvey and Frost with

three others were killed. Before this animosity between them arose, Richmond

was a very pleasant place to live. A great deal of sociability existed

among the people, but from this time business and social relations were

almost entirely ruined.

I visited Richmond in 1902, and I never saw such a difference. The

Galveston storm greatly damaged many of the houses, and the ruins were

still there. A pall of death seemed to be over the whole place, and one

coming into the town would feel a desire to leave it as quickly as possible,

if there was not some interest independent of the town. God said: "They

shall eat the fruit of their own doing." Still in Richmond God has those

who have not bowed their knees to Baal.

Mr. Nation's life was threatened and we had to leave. He went to

Kansas where he had a brother. After an application he took charge of a

Christian church at Medicine Lodge, Barber County, Kansas. This is January,

1904, and we moved to Kansas about fourteen years ago.

We traded the hotel for property in Medicine Lodge. Charlien, Lola

and their husbands moved to themselves and mother Gloyd would consent

to stay away from me only until we could get settled in Kansas. She

had her trunk prepared for the journey. She was now eighty-six years

old, but had remarkable vitality. I said:

"Mother you had better stay here the rest of your life, for Kansas is

much colder than this climate."

But she replied: "I came from Vermont and it is very cold there."

She followed me to the train, and when I went to leave her she placed

her arms around me and her head on my breast. Her last words were:

"I have lived with you and I want to die with you." Oh, how I disliked

to leave her! This was the last time I saw her dear, sweet face. We

had lived together as constant companions for twenty-three years.

Before I left Richmond, I requested of two of my dear friends, Mrs.

Connor and Mrs. Todd, that if mother ever got sick, they would stay by

her until the last. In a year from this time she died, being sick only three

days. These dear friends stayed by her side until the last. A telegram

was sent to me when she was first taken sick, and I wanted to go, but I

had no money of my own, and Mr. Nation would not consent. I have

never ceased to be sorry for it.

I was very much pleased when I first went to Kansas, for it was a

great relief from burdens. We boarded six months. After the year was

up, Mr. Nation went to Holton, Kansas, and took charge of a church

there. He went before I did, and to save shipping our horse and buggy,

I drove through. In order to get a good start and directions for my journey,

I went to Bro. Ed. Crouce, who lived on a farm about five miles from

town. Our horse was not very safe for he had a way of balking. Bro.

Crouce told me to give him a severe cut across the back and give him the

reins if he attempted to balk. I tried this on two occasions, following his

directions. The horse reared up and acted in a way that terrified me, but I

conquered and for ten years I drove that horse. He was a noble beast

with almost human sense. This journey was four hundred miles. For a

hundred and fifty miles I was accompanied by a young girl of sixteen

years of age, who was a farmer's daughter and seemed to be afraid of

nothing. She was a great inspiration to me, preparing me to drive the two

hundred and fifty miles alone. The great difficulty was in finding places

to stop at night. I got so I did not look for large roomy houses for

entertainment, but the smaller ones. I found out that the friends of the

poor are the poor. Mr. Nation met me at Topeka and he was so pleased that

he said: "You shall have this horse and buggy for your own."

Holton was thirty miles north and we drove up together.

I began to have a contempt for popular preaching, keeping apart from

"clicks" and "sects". I knew that my husband ought not to be in the ministry.

I do not believe he was ever a converted man. This made me very

miserable, putting us in a false light before the people. It was my desire

to serve God in a simple, humble way. Before the year was out because

of some dissatisfaction in the church between Mr. Nation and the board,

we left Holton. I then drove back to Medicine Lodge alone, enjoying my

trip very much. Mr. Nation never took charge of a church again. He

was a man well versed in law, and at one time rendered valuable service

in prosecuting liquor cases in Medicine Lodge.

When I lived in Texas and was keeping hotel in Richmond, one cold

rainy morning, a lot of men came in from the train.

I took special notice of one man. His hands were that of a woman,

his face was very refined, but his clothes were shabby. He was sitting

by himself and I said to him: "You must excuse me but you

look so much like a catholic priest I once saw." I did not then dream he

was one. Next morning I sent one of the boys that waited on the table to

see what was the matter that he did not come down to breakfast. He was

sick. I went up to see him and he told me he often had attacks of heart

trouble; that he had fallen in a faint in the yard the night before. I asked

him if he had any friends. He said: "No." I asked him his business?

"You guessed it last night," he replied. Then he told me he was a catholic

priest. I was very much astonished for he had on a common suit with a

red necktie. I then knew he was in trouble somewhere. He told me he

had no money. I told him he was welcome to stay as long as he wished.

I gathered up some clean garments and did for him all I could. I felt

glad to have this catholic priest in my house. I resolved to ask him

concerning their faith. He was one of the saddest man I ever saw and it

made my heart ache to see him. I knew so well what it was to have "a heart

bowed down with grief and woe," and I saw in this poor creature desolation.

I asked him if he should die, what sin he would have to repent of.

He said: "I may have sinned in trying to fix up a home for poor priests

who come into disfavor with the bishops." His words were: "There is

no one so helpless as a catholic priest sent adrift. A boy ten years old

knows as well how to make a living for himself. I have been from a boy,

in a Jesuit College, St. John's, near New York. You do not know the

sorrows of a catholic priest. Few know that so many priests are dying from

heart disease. I am trying to get to San Antonio, for a priest there may

help me some." He stayed at the hotel five days. One evening he came in

the parlor where there was quite a company, and I was astonished to see

him so changed. He was no longer the shrinking, crest-fallen man, but he

seemed bright and joined in conversation; sang and played on the piano.

I soon found out he had been drinking. I wanted to shield him from the

scandal and made an excuse to call him from the room, and told him what

I did this for. Next morning he came down as "sad as night". I said:

"Are you going to leave?" "Yes," he replied. I wrote a note to the

conductor, whom I knew well; told him the condition of this poor man; told

him to pass him to San Antonio. I had just three dollars, this I gave to

him. Oh, the gratitude in the face of this poor man. He raised his

hands and asked "Christ, and his mother, the holy martyrs, and the angels

to bless me."

In a few days I heard of a priest from Cleveland, Ohio, who through

gambling and drinking, had spent thirty thousand dollars of the church's

money and he was sent adrift. The name of this priest was John Kelly

and on our hotel register the name of this priest was written "John Kelly."

CHAPTER VI.

WHY MY NAME IS NOT ON A CHURCH BOOK, AND WHY THE MINISTERS WITHDREW

FROM ME.--CLOSING THE DIVES OF MEDICINE LODGE.--CORA BENNETT,

AND WHY SHE KILLED BILLY MORRIS IN A DIVE IN KIOWA.--HER

RESURRECTION.--RAIDING A JOINT DRUGSTORE.

I soon saw that I was not popular with the church at Medicine

Lodge. I testified to having received the "baptism of the Holy Ghost," and

the minister, Mr. Nicholson, took occasion to say that I was not sound

in the faith. This church at this time had a board of deacons and elders,

who I knew to be unworthy, some of them addicted to intoxicating drinks

and other flagrant sins. There was one man whose sincerity I never questioned,

Mr. Smith, who had a good report from those in and out of the

church.

Mr. Nicholson, the preacher, used to go to a drugstore kept by a noted

jointist and infidel. He would sit with him in front of his drugstore. I

would rebuke him for "sitting in the seat of the scornful and in the way of

sinners."

Whenever I went visiting, I went where I felt I could do some

good for Jesus, and at Thanksgiving and Christmas I invited the poor,

crippled and blind, to a feast at my house as Jesus said to never invite

those who were able to make a feast.

There was a Mrs. Tucker, who was quite young and married to an

old man. She worked hard, washing, to care for her five children. I

would take her to church and it was not long before she joined. There

was rejoicing in Heaven, but none in the church at Medicine Lodge.

For two years she attended church, and not an officer or member ever

called to see her. I would visit her, and often take her clothes for

her children, also read the Bible, and prayed with her. I did not wish

her to notice the lack of all Christian fellowship, but she saw the

cool way in which she was treated and she stopped going to church. A

false report of treachery was told to this minister by her unfeeling, jealous

husband, and without going to see this poor woman, it was decided to take

her name from the church book.

One Lord's Day morning, before Mr. Nicholson commenced his sermon,

he said: "It is the painful duty of the church to withdraw fellowship from

Sister Tucker, who had been living in open adultery." I was sitting in

front, and I rose to my feet.

Mr. Nicholson said: "You sit down, the elders will attend to this."

I said: "No, the elders will not, but I will. What you have said is

not true about this woman. She has been a member of the church for two

years, and neither you nor the elders or any member of this church but

myself have been in her home. I do for that woman what I would want

some one to do for me, under the same circumstances. These elders never

reclaim the erring or pray with the dying, but this poor little lamb has

come in for shelter, and they are pulling the fleece off of her."

All this time Mr. Nicholson was telling me in angry tones to "sit

down". He then called on the elders to take me out, came down from the

pulpit, took me by the arm intending to put me out himself, but he could

not move me. I turned to the audience, told them what the preacher said

could not be proven. The Normal was in session and there were many

strangers present. I sat down as calmly as if nothing had happened out of

the usual, and waited until the close.

Mr. Nicholson came to me after service and said: "We will settle

your case."

I said: "Do your worst and do your best."

That afternoon the elders met in the church, and withdrew from me

because I was a "stumbling block," and a "disturber of the peace." This

was a grief to me, for my beloved father, mother, brothers and sisters

belonged to this society of Christians, and I had, since I was a child ten

years of age. I wept much over this, but I went to church as usual, not

so much to the Christian church, but the Baptist, where they were very

kind to me.

Bro. Wesley Cain had charge of that church and this man and his

wife were a tower of strength to me. What this man and wife did for the

people of Medicine Lodge will receive approbation on "That Day," at the

resurrection of the just.

Mrs. Cain was local president of the W. C. T. U. and she was at her

post; was self-sacrificing, and had such a sympathizing heart. The poor

never applied to Bro. Cain and his noble wife in vain. I have much to

thank them for.

I was Jail Evangelist at this time for the W. C. T. U. and I learned

that almost everyone who was in jail was directly or indirectly there from

the influence of intoxicating drinks. I began to ask why should we have

the result of the saloon, when Kansas was a prohibition state, and the

constitution made it a crime to manufacture, barter, sell or give away

intoxicating drinks? When I went to Medicine Lodge there were seven dives

where drinks were sold. I will give some reasons why they were removed.

I began to harass these dive-keepers, although they were not as much to

blame as the city officials who allowed them to run. Mart Strong was a

noted joint-keeper. He and his son, Frank, were both bad drinking characters,

and would sell it every chance they got. Mart had a dive and I

was in several times to talk to him, and he would try to flatter me and

turn things into a joke. When he saw I did not listen to such talk,

treated me very rude. One Saturday I saw quite a number of men

into his place, and I went in also. Saloons in Kansas generally have a

front room to enter as a precaution, then a back room where the bar is.

I didn't get farther than the front, for Mart came hastily, taking me by the

shoulders and said: "Get out of here, you crazy woman." I was singing

this song:

Who hath sorrow? Who hath Woe?

They who dare not answer no;

They whose feet to sin incline,

While they tarry at the wine.

CHORUS:

They who tarry at the wine cup

They who tarry at the wine cup.

They who tarry at the wine cup.

Who hath babblings, who hath strife?

He who leads a drunkard's life;

He whose loved ones weep and pine,

While he tarries at the wine.

Who hath wounds without a cause?

He who breaks God's holy laws;

He who scorns the Lord divine,

While he tarries at the wine.

Who hath redness at the eyes?

Who brings poverty and sighs?

Unto homes almost divine,

While he tarries at the wine?

Touch not, taste not, handle not:

Drink will make the dark, dark blot,

Like an adder it will sting,

And at last to ruin bring,

They who tarry at the drink."

I continued to sing this, with tears running down my face. When I

finished the song there was a great crowd; some of the men had tears in

their eyes as well. James Gano, the constable, was standing near the door

and said: "I wish I could take you off the streets." I said: "Yes, you

want to take me, a woman, whose heart is breaking to see the ruin of these

men, the desolate homes and broken laws, and you a constable, oath-bound

to close his man's unlawful business."

The treatment I got at the hands of this Mart Strong was told to the

mayor and councilmen, and there was great indignation. The councilmen

went to Mart's place that night. The door was locked and a number of

gamblers were in there. The mayor forced the door open and told Mart

Strong never to open business in the town again. He left next day; and

this closed up one of the worst places in the town. Then there was Henry

Durst, another jointist of long standing who was a German and had

accumulated quite a lot of property by this dishonest business. He was a

prominent Catholic. A Mrs. Elliott, a good Christian woman, came to my

home crying bitterly and between sobs told me, that for six weeks her husband

had been drinking at Durst's bar, until he was crazy. She had been

washing to feed her three children and for some days had nothing in the

house but cornbread and molasses. She said that her husband had come

in, wild with drink and run his family out and kicked over the table and

she said: "I came to you to ask you what to do."

I did not speak a word, for I was too full of conflicting feelings; but I

put on my bonnet and Sister Elliott asked me what I was going to do. I

told her that I did not know, but for her to come with me. We walked

down to Henry Durst's place, a distance of half a mile. I fell down on my

knees before the screen and began to call on God. There were five men

in there drinking. I was indifferent to those passing the street. It was a

strange sight to see women on their knees on the most prominent part

of the street. I told God about this man selling liquor to this woman's

husband, and told Him she had been washing to get bread, and asked God

to close up this den and drive this man out. Mrs. Elliott also prayed. We

then told this man that God would hear and that hell was his portion if

he did not change. In a short time he closed his bar, left his family

there, and went to another state. His property was sold gradually and he

never returned, except to move his family away, and I heard afterwards

he was reduced to poverty.

Another jointist was named Hank O'Bryan. In passing his place one

night from prayer-meeting, I smelled the horrid drink and went in. A

man by the name of Grogan was there, half drunk, and I said: "You have

a dive here." Mr. Grogan replied: "No, Mother Nation, you are wrong,

and I can prove it."

"Let me see what you have in the back room," I asked. "All right,

Mother," he said, and took me through several windings, until I came to a

very small room with a table covered with beer bottles, that had been

recently emptied, and in one corner sat a man, Mr. Smith, a man from

Sharon, who the W. C. T. U. had been talking of handling for selling

liquor in that town. Mr. Grogan introduced me to him, and he, Mr.

Smith, looked terrified and astonished. I took up one of the bottles

and asked what it had contained. His reply: "Hop Tea." I asked:

"What name is that on the label?" It was "Anheuser-Busch," but I could

get neither of them to pronounce it. I turned up one of the bottles and

put it to my lips and told them that it was beer, and that I could take an

oath that it was. Grogan threw up his hands saying: "Now, Mother

Nation, if you get me into trouble I will do something desperate." I

had visited this man Grogan in jail about a year before this, where

he was put for getting drunk and fighting. I said: "I do not wish

to get either of you in trouble, but want to get you out." I had my Bible

with me and I opened it to several passages where drink was condemned,

and told them where it would lead. I told them I would not speak of this

to anyone. When I said I would not "tell on them" the look of gladness

on their faces was pitiful to see.

I said, I am going to pray God to have mercy on you. Kneel down,

like two obedient little children--they knelt--some may smile at this,

but I was deeply affected and felt a compassion and tenderness toward

these poor men, whom the devil was leading captive at his will. That

prayer I offered, was heard.

In one week from that time this man Grogan came to my house; one

Sunday morning, and fell down at my feet crying and wringing his hands,

saying: "Oh! Mrs. Nation I am going to hell, but it is not your fault and

I came to ask you to pray for me." He was in great agony of soul.

He had been drinking until he was almost crazy. He left in about half

an hour, saying he "was going to hell," but I told him, no; to have faith

in God and He would save him.

This was the last I saw of him, but I heard afterwards that he had

a small store in Wichita and was living in the rear of it with his family.

The person that told me of him, said that he asked Mr. Grogan if he sold

liquor. His answer was: "No, I got enough of that in Medicine Lodge."

This Mr. Smith became a wreck for a time, and lost his business in Sharon.

After I came out of jail in Wichita the third time, I met a man on the

street and he made himself known as the Smith of Sharon. He looked

quite well and said he had quit drinking entirely and was a real estate

dealer in Wichita.

I soon heard of its being told around in Medicine Lodge that I drank

beer in a dive. So I went to Hank O'Bryan's restaurant and said: "Some

of these jointists are telling that I drank in a dive. Now if it comes to the

ears of the public, I will have to go on the witness stand and tell where I

drank beer." Hank turned pale, looked comical and I never heard any

more of that.

There was a saloon keeper in Kiowa, named "Billy" Morris and living

with him as his wife was a girl whose name was Cora Bennett. This

poor girl had been living an irregular life, but was true to this man, who

had promised her time after time to marry her, but was only deceiving

her. She entered his bar room one day and told him he must fulfill his

promise to her now, or she would kill him. He tried to laugh at her. She

fired a shot and killed him on the spot; then the poor girl fell on his dead

body screaming in a distracted manner. She was arrested and brought to

jail at Medicine Lodge; and was there six months. Being Jail Evangelist I

went to see her, sometimes twice a week. When I first saw her she was

reticent, and did not seem glad to see me. She was so nice, that I fell in

love with her and I asked the ladies of the W. C. T. U. to visit her, but

they thought her a hopeless case. She bought a Bible and we would read

and pray together and talked about the need of Christ in our lives. She

was a woman of great sympathy. I asked her once: "Did you ever love

anyone." She wept bitterly and said: "Yes, the man I killed."

Toward the last she seemed perfectly delighted when I came to her

cell. She, consented to go to a home where she would have friends who

would keep her, to make a change in her life. The morning she left I

went to the jail and rode with her in the hack to the depot and then to a

town about twenty miles east of Medicine Lodge, called Attica. On the

train from Medicine Lodge to Attica, the deputy sheriff had some man

to give this girl a letter from him, telling her to meet him at Wellington.

The girl's father lived at Attica, and an older sister of her's met us. I

could see the sister was not a good woman, and she took Cora to a room

and exchanged the modest hat and dress for a showy hat and elaborate

silk dress; and when I saw her it almost broke my heart. I said to her:

"Oh, Cora, all my work to save you is in vain." I had rather have seen

her drop dead, and I grieved all the way home. From Attica she went to

Wellington, instead of Olathe, Kansas, where she was to enter this home.

James Dobson was sheriff of Barber County and his brother kept a

saloon in Kiowa, the first saloon I ever smashed.

I heard no good news of Cora for some years; she led a bad life.

Five years later, through a W. C. T. U. lecturer, I heard that she was

married and living in Colorado; and she was an efficient worker as a W.

C. T. U. woman; among fallen women. She told of her past life and of a

Mrs. Nation visiting her. This woman said it was so incredible to believe

that Cora could have been so bad, and had taken a human life, that she

was anxious to see the place in Kiowa and to see Cora's prison cell and

myself. I was then in Oklahoma, and I certainly rejoiced over this news

from her I had learned to love. I saw in this wayward girl certain qualities

that would be a power for good, if once God could have His way

with her life.

There are diamonds in the slush and filth of this world. Happy is he

who picks them up and helps to wash the dirt away, that they may shine

for God. I am very much drawn to my fallen sisters. Oh! the cruelty

and oppression they meet with! If the first stone was cast by those who

were guiltless, those who were to be stoned would rarely get a blow.

O. L. DAY'S DRUG STORE.

There was a druggist, O. L. Day, in Medicine Lodge who was unlawfully

selling intoxicating liquor. He himself was drinking; also his clerk.

I got a knowledge of a deposit of this contraband goods. I put a little

boy on my buggy horse and sent a letter to our dear Sister Cain, who

was president of our local union. She called several of the women together

at our W. C. T. V. room and made known to them what I knew of

O. L. Day receiving these intoxicants. There was a great deal of discussion,

but at last it was decided that we should investigate. At that

time I was regarded as a fanatic, and many of these were afraid for me to

plan for them, so I kept very quiet. It was finally agreed that Mrs. A. L.

Noble and Mrs. Runyan should go first and see how matters were. Sister

Runyan finally said before we got there: "Let Mrs. Nation go in my

place." I said: "Thank God!" Oh, I was so glad, for I felt that I could

handle this case.

{illust. caption =

THIS IS A PICTURE OF A SOCIETY I ORGANIZED IN DEWEY COUNTY, OKLA., WHEN WE

LIVED IN DOUGOUTS. WE WOULD GO FROM HOUSE TO HOUSE, WASH, SEW, CLEAN HOUSE,

AND OTHERWISE HELP THE HELPLESS.}

O. L. Day was a real gentleman by nature. He was the man with

one fault, and that was alcoholism. Mrs. Noble said: "You do the talking."

While we were in the W. C. T. U. room discussing, Sister Runyan

said: "I will not have anything to do with this if Mrs. Nation does." I

kept still, praying for the raid to go through, even if I was not in it; and

when it came to the point, I had just what I wanted. I felt entirely equal

to the occasion. Sister Runyan did not understand me then, for we are

the best of friends and she has been true to me in my efforts to defend

the homes of Kansas. I told Mr. Day, we, as a W. C. T. U. thought he had

not been dealing fairly, and I looked at his little back room suspiciously,

as much as to say: "I would like to see what you have in there." He

said: "Ladies would you like to go in the room?" I said: "Yes." I

knew I could discover the secret. I saw behind the prescription case a

ten gallon keg. I said to myself: "That is a find." About this time the

rest of the women, accompanied by Sister Cain, came in the front door.

Mr. Day was as white as death all the time. As soon as he went to the

front I smelled the keg bung. I turned it on one side and rolled it to the

front saying; "Women, this is the whiskey!" Mr. Day's clerk caught

the end of the keg to turn it out of my hands and on the other side of it

was Jim Gano, the marshal, who I think hauled all the divekeepers' goods

to them. He was a Republican and in with the whiskey ring and a

"rummy" himself. I then placed a foot on each side of the keg and held

it firm with both feet and hands. Jim Gano sprang in front of me and

with his chest against my head, I thought certainly he would break my

neck. I called to the women to help me. Mrs. Noble caught him by one

side of the collar and some one the other side and held him back against

the counter until I could roll the keg out into the street. All this time

Sister Cain, like a general, was saying: "Don't any one touch these

women. They are right. They are christian women, trying to save the

boys of our state." I called for a hatchet from the hardware store of Mr.

Case. He was very angry and said: "No!" He also, was drinking too

much. I called to Mrs. Noble to get a sledge hammer from the blacksmith

shop across the street. She did and handed it to me. I struck with all my

might. The whiskey flew high in the air. The ladies came near to pour

it out, but I said: "Save some." So Sister Runyan got a bottle and filled

it. Then we poured it out and set it afire. I fell on my knees in the middle

of the street and thanked God for this victory. Dr. Gould, a man

"fit for treason, stratagem and spoils," was the one to help Day dispose

of these drinks, as many doctors do. This doctor gave out that this was

"California Brandy", costing seventy-five dollars, that he had advised Day

to get it for medical purposes.

Mr. Day was at this time getting a permit to sell it for medical purposes.

He appeared in court to prove he was a graduated pharmacist,

never drank, and never had a clerk that did. The W. C. T. U. were there

in a body. We contested his right to have the permit. Poor man. I

pitied him. He was very much under the influence of intoxicants. When

asked; "What that was in the keg the ladies rolled out of his drug store

on the 16th of February?" he said: "It was California brandy." When

asked: "If he knew the taste of whiskey and brandy," he said: "Yes."

We handed him a bottle of this that he said was brandy. He pronounced

it "a poor quality of sour mash whiskey." Sister Runyan was then put

on the stand and said: "It came from the keg that was smashed."

This man was so humbled that he sold out in a month and left Medicine Lodge.

There are parties in that town who are more responsible

than O. L. Day. They did every thing in their power to have him do that

which was his ruin. In retaliation for this the republican rum element

one night made an attack on Sister Cain's and my house, broke windows

and threw rocks, and broke my buggy. They also sent a negro to my

house, named Haskel, a noted bootlegger. He asked for an interview.

He had quite a tale to tell me about hearing some men say that if the

women appeared against Day that my house would go. I am so well

acquainted with the colored race I could read him from the first and knew

that these "Rummies" had put this negro up to intimidate me. I listened

as if I believed. Then I said: "Haskel you ought to know by this time

that such men as these will not prevent me from doing my duty, besides

should my home be burned, it would be a lecture in favor of my cause

that would be worth more to me than the home. Now Haskel you get in

the company of these men and you tell them what I have told you." This

negro pretended to me that he came to me as a friend. When I told him

what I did, his expression was amusing to see.

CHAPTER VII.

SPIRITUAL LEADINGS.--JESUS A CONSCIOUS PRESENCE THREE DAYS.--LOSS OF

LIBERTY BY COMPROMISING.--THE PRICE PAID TO BE REINSTATED.--DISGRACE

TO BE A MILLIONAIRE

I had once while in Medicine Lodge, a heavenly rapture for three

days. My Savior was my constant companion. I saw no form, heard no

word. But His dear face was just behind and looking over my right shoulder.

He was a conscious presence and the deep peace was beyond any

experience I ever had. I shunned the society of persons. I would talk

to Him, would sing and play the accompaniment on the organ. I was

particular about my home work. While I saw no face, or form, I realized

that His was a sweet, smiling, gratified expression, and it told me I was

pleasing Him. I did not seem then to think this anything wonderful, and

have often reproached myself for not setting more store by this at the

time.

There was a period of from six months to a year that I was terribly

haunted by a feeling as if hung over a precipice. I was hanging

only by a rope above my head held by a hand out of a cloud. At night or in

the day, it was the same uneasy dread of falling. The precipice below

was black and horrible. There were banks on each side. At last I swung

over, landing on the right side. Oh! the relief!

When I first began to pray in public I was very awkward, never could

make any but what one would call a disconnected prayer, that never seems

to be impressive in an audience.

I asked an old-fashioned sister, who I knew was a saint, to tell me

what was wrong in my testimony. "I do not have liberty when I speak."

She said: "You do not praise God enough." I began to pray for a spirit

of praise. Shortly after this I was at prayer-meeting, was praying for

a spirit of praise. It was put in my mouth I rose to my feet and

began to say: "Praise God; Praise God!" repeating it over and over.

Oh! how sweet to use and hear those words! I could scarcely repress the

impulse to use them all the time. For a long time after this, when the

Bible was read or testimony struck me as being just right, I would audibly

say: "Praise God!" This was a "gift", for I had never felt the

impulse before. I have in a measure left this off, but I use it all the time,

when I hear good news, or see what pleases me. "He led captivity (sin)

captive and gave GIFTS unto men." Ever since I received the "baptism of

the Holy Ghost," I have liked one church about as well as another. I go

to all even the Catholic. I fast on Friday and use the sign of the cross.

Fast, because my Savior suffered in the flesh on Friday; use the sign

of the cross, because in the cross is salvation. Meditations on the cross

always lift heavenward. 'Tis the royal way, I want to keep it always in

view, want it to be the last I see. We who bear the cross continually in

this transient life, will wear the crown continually in the eternal. I love

a picture of the cross or a crucifix. I am debtor both to the Jew and the

Greek. I do not feel the dislike to the Catholic church that some Protestants

do. I believe there are as many honest priests as there are other

ministers. God's church is invisible to the world, for it is set up in the

hearts of the children of men. I have been greatly edified by conversing

with Catholic priests. When I lived in Texas my spiritual condition was

such that I wanted some explanation. I went to see Father Hennesy, of

Houston, I explained to him my strange leadings, he said a wise and

good thing, told me to "read the scriptures and pray and God would lead

me right."

I was at church in Medicine Lodge one night, during a protracted

meeting held by Bro. Parker and Hodges. Two sisters came to me and

complained that I made so much noise, said they could not enjoy the

service. I said: "To please you I will try to keep quiet, but remember

it is my God and YOUR God I am praising. I would rejoice to hear

you praise Him." Next night something was said that was good to

me. I said: "Praise God!" caught myself when I saw one of the sisters

near, and from that time I felt little impulse and at last none. I went

to every meeting but lost my liberty and became so bound, I could not

testify or pray. I was very miserable, would weep from a desolation of

spirit. This continued for three weeks. The meeting was still going on.

My spiritual darkness became so great, I went up one afternoon to the altar.

I rose and told of how I had "lost my liberty and peace by withholding

praise to God by trying to please two sisters." While I was confessing,

the spirit fell in great power and I acted like I was beside myself, was

almost wild with delight. I seemed to fly home and back in the evening.

One in this state appears crazy to the world, even disgusting. No one

sees a reason for this unnatural overflow of feeling. At the beginning

of the service, opportunity was given for testimony. I rose eager to tell

of my returned joy; told of praying for, and getting what I prayed for,

then losing it, by compromise; closed by saying: "That never again

would I refuse to do the will of God even if it offended all and made me

appear a fool." My testimony seemed to be fanatical, for my manner

indicated one greatly moved. When I took my seat a "still small voice"

said. "You must sing a song." Bro. Osburn was sitting near. He had

the song book "Finest of the Wheat," in his hands. I took it then handed

it back. I felt like one in a dreadful dilemma--all joy had given place

to fear. Bro. Osburn again handed me the book. I felt then I must go

through this trying ordeal. I took the book, walked up to the front, all

were standing, the church crowded and Bro. Parker gave out the number

of the hymn "40". "No," I said, "We will sing No. 3." This song

was, "I know Not Why This Wondrous Grace To Me He Hath Made

Known." Bro. Parker gave out the number again. I said, "No," and

began to sing. Bro. Allen accompanied me with his cornet. Of course

one can imagine what an impression this would make on an audience.

I sang, two verses and the chorus. I then took my seat. Then a flood

of peace and heavenly companionship took possession of me. I then knew

what it was to have angels minister unto you. God took me at my word

and made me appear a "fool," and objectionable, to the whole people.

What a fatal result there might have been, if I had not obeyed God!

I know why people do not have power with God. They will not

abandon themselves to the whole will of God, because they will not suffer

the OFFENSE of the cross. Why care for the criticism of men that change

and die!

I had an experience once for eight months, when I felt that Christ

had turned his face from me, not in displeasure, but this was a trial of

faith. My prayers had no response, brought me no hope of having been

heard. But I prayed quite as much, if not more. Never got discouraged,

although I was in gloom, and my heart was like lead. All at once there

was a return of the conscious presence of God. 'Tis a poor servant that

serves only for hire. "Though He slay me yet will I trust Him." God

has kept me from following any but Him.

One dear friend thought that Haney was the great holiness teacher,

another one thought Carodine. They would quote their sayings, but

I always found better and clearer teaching in the word of God. I could

see errors in all the holiness teachers, but not one in the Bible. The

book of Job settled the question of the most perfect experience. Men can

be perfect men and not perfect saints. When Job was, "holding fast

his integrity" God did not bless him like He did when Job saw the perfection

of God and said: "Wherefore I abhor myself and repent in dust

and ashes." The Sermon on the Mount is the greatest lesson in holiness and is

from the only one that can teach holiness. Great lessons

can be taught by all persons, taught of God, but 'tis better to drink at

the fountain than out of a stale bucket. Besides all have imperfection.

"To the law and to the testimony if they speak not according to this

word it is because there is no light in them." "They shall all be taught

of God." "If any lack wisdom, let him ask of God who giveth to all

liberally and upbraideth not, and it shall be given."

From the time that my Christian experience began, I never wished

to be associated with rich people, or rather people that had wealth for

display. Would feel uncomfortable to go in a house filled with furniture

or bric-a-brac. It would be an evidence to me of the great waste of

money and time by the owner. Nothing had value to me only as it could

be used for the salvation of men and women, and the glorifying of God.

It mortified me to see a "swell dressed" woman. I noticed that those so-

called fashionable women really never had time or money to do charity.

Of course there are exceptions. The display of wealth to me is an evidence

of a depraved nature. The use of wealth, is in relieving the wants

of mankind. The time is coming when the millionaires will be the

despised of the people, for they are learning fast that people who amass

fortunes, and hoard them, are in that condition because they have ground

the face of the poor. They are not honest or good. A man or woman

now that can hoard money or goods and pass and repass the suffering

every day, has a cold, selfish heart, and instead of its being in the future

a letter of credit to say: "Mr. So and So is a millionaire," it will be a

disgrace as it should be, to live for wealth and self alone. Still

'tis well to get all the money in a good way, that you can and then use it

in a good cause. Job was a rich man but he was a friend of the "fatherless

and widow." "He dealt his bread to the hungry. He was feet to the lame

and eyes to the blind." Such rich men as Job are blessings, but those

men who boast of their hoarded treasures, spend their money in the

gratification of their lusts, to them God says: "Woe or curses unto you

rich men! Weep and howl for your miseries that shall come upon you!

Your garments are motheaten, your gold is cankered and the rust shall

eat your flesh as if it were fire." Yes, there is a class of rich men that

would now HOWL, and weep with all their money, if they knew their fate.

I have never had so light a heart or felt so well satisfied as since I

smashed those murder mills. For years I had an aching, weeping heart.

I would often put ashes on my head. I felt like wearing sackcloth. I can

see the hand of God in my life. From a small child I loved the world,

used to be fond of pets. It seemed that my pets always came to grief.

Then I was very anxious to be thought smart. Would try to write and

wanted a thorough education. I became almost an invalid. Could not

attend school. Was hindered on account of the circumstances brought

about by the Civil war. The man I loved and married brought to me

bitter grief. The child I loved so well became afflicted and never seemed

to want my love. The man I married, hoping to serve God, I found to

be opposed to all I did, as a Christian. I used to wonder why this was.

I saw others with their loving children and husbands and I would wish

their condition was mine. I now see why God saw in me a great lover,

and in order to have me use that love for Him, and others, He did not

let me have those that would have narrowed my life down to my own

selfish wishes. Oh! the grief He has sent me! Oh! the fiery trials!

Oh! the shattered hopes! How I love Him for this! "Whom the Lord

loveth He chasteneth and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth."

There are pages in my life that have had much to do in bringing me in

sympathy with the fallen tempted natures. These I cannot write, but let

no erring, sinful man or woman think that Carry Nation would not understand

this, for Carry Nation is a sinner saved by grace and I know He

can save to the uttermost, all that come unto Him. "Heaven is made for

redeemed sinners and hell for the proud and disobedient." When I

see the proud glance, the boastful manner, the display of, "I am better

than thou," I feel pity and commiseration for the poor dying creature and

see "behind the face a grinning skull". I like the companionship of the

servant in the kitchen more than the mistress in the parlor. I covet the

humblest walk. I wish for the power, often, to make the rich take back

seats, and give the front to the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.

I will not have a piece of fine furniture. I have no carpets on my floors.

I have two small rooms in Topeka in the building I desire to give to

the W. C. T. U. for prohibition work. The little cupboard I use is made

of a dry-goods box, with shelves in it, a curtain in front. My dishes,

all told, kitchen and dining-room, are not worth five dollars. This is what

the poor have, and better than some have. It is good enough. It is better

than my blessed Lord had. I desire nothing better. I would feel like

a reprobate to fill my room with expensive furniture, using money I could

feed the hungry with, clothe the naked, doing things that would please

my Lord. What a change! I used to delight in cut-glass, china, plush,

velvet and lace. Now I can say "vanity of vanity, all is vanity!" There

may be almost selfishness in this eager desire I have to give away the

means that are at my disposal. What I use or leave behind will never

be placed to my credit in the bank of heaven. What we give away for

the love of God and our neighbor is all we take with us. I will be so

delighted with a home that I can call mine, forever. I like nice wearing

apparel but I will not be deceived by spending my time and means for

that which will hinder me from having them where moth and rust doth

not corrupt and where thieves do not break through and steal. So I

wish to make to myself friends of the mammon of unrighteousness and

not enemies, for the hoarded dollars are bitter foes that will be witnesses

against these rich men at That Day. I am praying that God may send

me means to carry out a plan to save Kansas from traitors. The state has

made herself a name, that will endure forever, because she began a warfare

against a government at a time when few were wise enough to see

that this revolution meant defiance to the rum-soaked republican rule.

Every moral reform is a protest against this government we live under.

What does the W. C. T. U. mean? The mothers banding themselves together

to prevent the Government from slaughtering them.

From the beginning of my Christian experience I have devoted myself

to the poor. I prayed God to give me opportunity to be helpful to

those who were destitute of the comforts of life. The people of Medicine

Lodge were so good to aid me. I could go to the stores and ask

for flour, sugar and different kinds of eatables and get them. There

was one man I never asked in vain, when I wished aid for the poor,

that was C. Q. Chandler, a man who was able to help. I have taken

poor children to his house and he has given me orders at the dry-goods

stores to clothe them, so they could attend school. He has given me

money frequently to get fuel and clothes for those who needed them. One

Christmas he wrote me a letter, asking me for the names of all the poor

ones and asking me to name something they needed. I did, and all got

something useful. Such men are worthy to be stewards of God's

treasury.

For years I made it my duty, every fall, to go from house to house

to gather clothes for the poor families, wash women and others who

had not time to sew for their children. I never allowed a child to

stay out of day or Sunday school, for want of clothes. I would sort

out these clothes and distribute as needed. Persons would say, "I

would be afraid I would make people angry." I said if every one feels

that way I will say: "You are not the one I am sent to." I never hurt

any ones feelings by offering them these things.

There was a family by the name of French who came into a neighborhood

about three miles from town. I heard they were destitute. I

filled my buggy and went there and sure enough they were sadly in

need. I brought the things in just such as was needed. The family was

large. The woman cried like her heart would break, just for gratitude;

she could not thank me enough. It takes so little to make some people

happy.

I read of a miserable miser once who was on the verge of suicide

by the side of a river. A little girl came to him saying: "Please sir,

my mother is sick and hungry. Please give me something so I can get

her something to eat." The man said within himself: "I will do this

for the child before I die." He went to a bakershop and got her a full

basket. Then she looked so weak he carried it home to her mother. The

poor woman on the pallet of straw, kissed his hands and blessed him.

He thought of the money he might use to make people happy. He concluded

he would use it before he died for he had enjoyed for the first

time in his life the peace that comes from giving. After this his life was

a blessing to himself and others. He had found the best use of life.

I once read of a beautiful story of one of the early fathers of the

church. He gave away everything even to sufficient clothes to keep himself

warm. A rich kind hearted woman made him a coat of fur very

expensive. Next time she saw him he did not have it. "Where is that

coat father," she asked. He replied: "I thought so much of it I laid

it up in heaven. Where moth and rust doth not corrupt and where

thieves do not break through and steal." He had given it to the first

shivering man he met.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE DIVINE CALL.--THE JOINT DRUGGIST OF MEDICINE LODGE.--BEER A POISON.--

DOCTORS MAKE DRUNKARDS.--SMASHING AT KIOWA.--ATTITUDE OF SOME

W. C. T. U.'S OF KANSAS.--SUIT FOR SLANDER.--SMASHING AT WICHITA.--

CONSPIRACY OF THE REPUBLICANS TO PUT ME IN THE INSANE ASYLUM.--

SUFFERINGS IN JAIL AT WICHITA.--SLANDERS FROM THE RUM-SOAKED

PAPERS OF KANSAS.

At the time these dives were open, contrary to the statutes of our

state, the officers were really in league with this lawless element. I was

heavily burdened and could see "the wicked walking on every side, and

the vilest men exalted." I was ridiculed and my work was called "meddler"

"crazy," was pointed at as a fanatic. I spent much time in tears,

prayer and fasting. While not a Roman Catholic, I have practiced abstinence

from meat on Friday, for Christ suffered on that day, and 'tis well

for us to suffer. I also use the sign of the cross, for it is medicine to

the soul to be reminded of His sufferings. Jesus left us the communion

of bread and wine that we might remember His passion. I would also

fast days at a time. One day I was so sad; I opened the Bible with a

prayer for light, and saw these words: "Arise, shine, for thy light is

come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee." These words gave

me unbounded delight.

I ran to a sister and said: "There is to be a change in my life."

On the 6th of June, before retiring, as I often did, I threw myself face

downward at the foot of my bed and told the Lord to use me any way to

suppress the dreadful curse of liquor; that He had ways to do it, that I

had done all I knew, that the wicked had conspired to take from us the

protection of homes in Kansas; to kill our children and break our hearts.

I told Him I wished I had a thousand lives, that I would give Him all

of them, and wanted Him to make it known to me, some way. The next

morning, before I awoke, I heard these words very distinctly: "Go to

Kiowa, and" (as in a vision and here my hands were lifted and cast down

suddenly.) "I'll stand by you." I did not hear these words as other

words; there was no voice, but they seemed to be spoken in my heart. I

sprang from my bed as if electrified, and knew this was directions given

me, for I understood that it was God's will for me to go to Kiowa to

break, or smash the saloons. I was so glad, that I hardly looked in the

face of anyone that day, for fear they would read my thoughts, and do

something to prevent me. I told no one of my plans, for I felt that no

one would understand, if I should.

I got a box that would fit under my buggy seat, and every time I

thought no one would see me, I went out in the yard and picked up

some brick-bats, for rocks are scarce around Medicine Lodge, and I wrapped

them up in newspapers to pack in the box under my buggy seat. I

also had four bottles I had bought from Southworth, the druggist, with

"Schlitz-Malt" in them, which I used to smash with. I bought two kinds

of this malt and I opened one bottle and found it to be beer. I was going

to use these bottles of beer to convict this wiley joint-druggist.

One of the bottles I took to a W. C. T. U. meeting, and in the presence

of the ladies I opened it and drank the contents. Then I had two of

them to take me down to a Doctor's office. I fell limp on the sofa and

said: "Doctor, what is the matter with me?"

He looked at my eyes, felt my heart and pulse, shook his head and

looked grave.

I said: "Am I poisoned or in an abnormal state?"

"Yes, said the Doctor." I said: "What poisoned me is that beer

you recommended Bro. ---- to take as a tonic." I resorted to this

stratagem, to show the effect that beer has upon the system. This Doctor

was a kind man and meant well, but it must have been ignorance that

made him say beer could ever be used as a medicine.

There was another, Dr. Kocile, in Medicine Lodge who used to sell

all the whiskey he could. He made a drunkard of a very prominent

woman of the town, who took the Keely cure. She told the W. C. T. U.

of the villainy of this doctor and she could not have hated anyone more.

Oh! the drunkards the doctors are making! No physician, who is

worthy of the name will prescribe it as a medicine, for there is not one

medical quality in alcohol. It kills the living and preserves the dead.

Never preserves anything but death. It is made by a rotting process and

it rots the brain, body and soul; it paralyzes the vascular circulation and

increases the action of the heart. This is friction and friction in any

machinery is dangerous, and the cure is not hastened but delayed.

I have given space in this book to one of the most scientific articles,

showing how dangerous alcohol is to the human system.

Any physician that will prescribe whiskey or alcohol as a medicine

is either a fool or a knave. A fool because he does not understand his

business, for even saying that alcohol does arouse the action of the heart,

there are medicines that will do that and will not produce the fatal

results of alcoholism, which is the worst of all diseases. He is a knave

because his practice is a matter of getting a case, and a fee at the same

time, like a machine agent who breaks the machine to get the job of mending

it. Alcohol destroys the normal condition of all the functions of the

body. The stomach is thrown out of fix, and the patient goes to the doctor

for a stomach pill, the heart, liver, kidneys, and in fact the whole body

is in a deranged condition, and the doctor has a perpetual patient. I

sincerely believe this to be the reason why many physicians prescribe it.

I was doing my own work at the time God spoke to me; cooking,

washing and ironing; was a plain home keeper. I cooked enough for

my husband until next day, knowing that I would be gone all night. I

told him I expected to stay all night with a friend, Mrs. Springer. I

hitched my horse to the buggy, put the box of "smashers" in, and at half

past three o'clock in the afternoon, the sixth of June, 1900, I started to

Kiowa. Whenever I thought of the consequences of what I was going

to do, and what my husband and friends would think, also what my

enemies would do, I had a sensation of nervousness, almost like fright,

but as soon as I would look up and pray, all that would leave me, and

things would look bright. And I might say I prayed almost every step

of the way. This Mrs. Springer lived about ten miles south of Medicine

Lodge. I often stopped there and I knew that Prince, my horse,

would naturally go into the gate, opening on the road, if I did not prevent

it. I thought perhaps it was God's will for me to drive to Kiowa that

night, so gave the horse the reins, and if he turned in, I would stay all

night, if not, I would go to Kiowa. Prince hastened his speed past the

gate, and I knew that it was God's will for me to go on. I got there at

8:30 P. M. and stayed all night with a friend. Early next morning I

had my horse put to the buggy and drove to the first place, kept by

Mr. Dobson. I put the smashers on my right arm and went in. He and

another man were standing behind the bar. These rocks and bottles being

wrapped in paper looked like packages bought from a store. Be

wise as devils and harmless as doves. I did not wish my enemies to

know what I had.

I said: "Mr. Dobson, I told you last spring, when I held my county

convention here, (I was W. C. T. U. president of Barber County,) to

close this place, and you didn't do it. Now I have come with another

remonstrance. Get out of the way. I don't want to strike you, but I

am going to break tip this den of vice."

I began to throw at the mirror and the bottles below the mirror.

Mr. Dobson and his companion jumped into a corner, seemed very much

terrified. From that I went to another saloon, until I had destroyed three,

breaking some of the windows in the front of the building. In the last

place, kept by Lewis, there was quite a young man behind the bar. I said

to him: "Young man, come from behind that bar, your mother did

not raise you for such a place." I threw a brick at the mirror, which was

a very heavy one, and it did not break, but the brick fell and broke

everything in its way. I began to look around for something that would

break it. I was standing by a billiard table on which there was one ball.

I said: "Thank God," and picked it up, threw it, and it made a hole in

the mirror. While I was throwing these rocks at the dives in Kiowa,

there was a picture before my eyes of Mr. McKinley, the President, sitting

in an old arm chair and as I threw, the chair would fall to pieces.

The other dive keepers closed up, stood in front of their places and

would not let me come in. By this time, the streets were crowded with

people; most of them seemed to look puzzled. There was one boy about

fifteen years old who seemed perfectly wild with joy, and he jumped,

skipped and yelled with delight. I have since thought of that as being

a significant sign. For to smash saloons will save the boy.

I stood in the middle of the street and spoke in this way: "I have

destroyed three of your places of business, and if I have broken a statute

of Kansas, put me in jail; if I am not a law-breaker your mayor and

councilmen are. You must arrest one of us, for if I am not a criminal,

they are."

One of the councilmen, who was a butcher, said: "Don't you think

we can attend to our business."

"Yes," I said, "You can, but you won't. As Jail Evangelist of Medicine

Lodge, I know you have manufactured many criminals and this

county is burdened down with taxes to prosecute the results of these dives.

Two murders have been committed in the last five years in this county,

one in a dive I have just destroyed. You are a butcher of hogs and cattle,

but they are butchering men, women and children, positively contrary to

the laws of God and man, and the mayor and councilmen are more to

blame than the jointist, and now if I have done wrong in any particular,

arrest me." When I was through with my speech I got in my buggy and

said: "I'll go home."

The marshal held my horse and said: "Not yet; the mayor wishes

to see you."

I drove up where he was, and the man who owned one of the dive-

buildings I had smashed was standing by Dr. Korn, the mayor, and said:

"I want you to pay for the front windows you broke of my building."

I said: "No, you are a partner of the dive-keeper and the statutes

hold your building responsible. The man that rents the building for any

business is no better than the man who carries on the business, and you

are "particepts criminus" or party to the crime." They ran back and

forward to the city attorney several times. At last they came and told

me I could go. As I drove through the streets the reins fell out of my

hands and I, standing up in my buggy; lifted my hands twice, saying:

"Peace on earth, good will to men." This action I know was done

through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. "Peace on earth, good will

to men" being the result of the destruction of saloons and the motive for

destroying them.

When I reached Medicine Lodge the town was in quite an excitement,

the news having been telegraphed ahead. I drove through the streets

and told the people I would be at the postoffice corner to tell why I had

done this. A great crowd had gathered and I began to tell them of my

work in the jail here, and the young men's lives that had been ruined,

and the broken hearted mothers, the taxation that had been brought on

the county, and other wrongs of the dives of Kiowa; of how I had been

to the sheriff, Mr. Gano, and the prosecuting attorney, Mr. Griffin; how I

had written to the state's attorney-general Mr. Godard, and I saw there

was a conspiracy with the party in power to violate their oaths, and refuse

to enforce the constitution of Kansas, and I did only what they swore they

would do. I had a letter from a Mr. Long, of Kiowa, saying that Mr.

Griffin, the prosecuting attorney, was taking bribes, and that he and the

sheriff were drinking and gambling in the dives at Kiowa.

This smashing aroused the people of the county to this outrage and

these dive-keepers were arrested, although we did not ask the prosecuting

attorney to get out a warrant, or sheriff to make an arrest. Neither

did we take the case before any justice of the peace in Kiowa or Medicine

Lodge, for they belong to the republican party and would prevent

the prosecution. The cases were taken out in the country several miles

from Kiowa before Moses E. Wright, a Free Methodist and a justice of

the peace of Moore township.

The men were found guilty, and for the first time in the history of

Barber County, all dives were closed. Of course it took two or three

months to accomplish this and not a word was said about suing me for

slander, until after the dives were closed. Then I began to hear that

Sam Griffin was going to sue me for slander, because I said he took bribes.

The papers were served on me, but I was not at all alarmed, for I thought

it would give me an opportunity to bring out the facts of the case. I

knew little about the tricks of lawyers, and the unfair rulings of judges.

I will here speak of the attitude of some of the W. C. T. U. concerning

the smashing. Most of this grand body of grand women endorsed

me from the first. A few weeks after the Kiowa raid, I held a convention

in Medicine Lodge. I got letters from various W. C. T. U. workers

of the state that they would hold my convention for me. I said: "No,

I will hold my own convention."

Up to this time, no one had ever offered to hold my convention,

and I fully understood, although I did not say anything, that the W. C.

T. U. did not want it to go out that they endorsed me in my work at

Kiowa. The state president came to my home the first day of the convention.

I believe this was done, thinking I would ask her to preside at

the meeting, or convention. I was glad to see her and asked her to conduct

a parliamentary drill. She came to me privately and asked me to

state to the convention that the W. C. T. U. knew nothing about the

smashing at Kiowa and was not responsible for this act of mine. I did

so, saying the "honor of smashing the saloons at Kiowa would have to

be ascribed to myself alone, as the W. C. T. U. did not wish any of it. So

far as Sister Hutchinson, who is, and has been the president for some time,

is concerned, I believe her to be a conscientious woman, and whose heart

is in the right place. She and I have been the best of friends and love

each other, and she has often defended me and spoken well of my work.

But I think the W. C. T. U. would be much more effective under her

management, if she had understood that Stanley, the republican governor,

wished to handicap her in her prohibition work when he appointed

her husband as physician in the reformatory at Hutchinson, Kansas. Be

it said to the credit of this christian physician he never used alcohol in

his practice. And perhaps other bearings have prevented her from seeing

that the republican pressure has injured our work more than anything

else in Kansas. Many of the wives of these political wire-pullers

are prominent in the Union. A W. C. T. U. must of necessity be a

prohibitionist, for her pledge is a prohibition pledge, not a temperance

one.

The Free Methodists, although few in number, and considered a church

of but small influence, have been a great power in reform. They were

the abolitionists of negro slavery to a man, and now they are the

abolitionists of the liquor curse to a man. They were also my friends

in this smashing. Father Wright and Bro. Atwood were at the convention

I speak of. Father Wright, who has been an old soldier for the

defence of Truth for many years said to me: "Never mind, Sister Nation,

when they see the way the cat jumps, you will have plenty of friends."

The ministers were also my friends and approved of the smashing. Bro.

McClain, of the Christian church, was at the convention, and he was

trying to apologize for the smashing and defend me at the same time,

he said: "We all make mistakes and crooked paths, and Sister Nation

we all know, tries to do right, and even if she did some crooked things,

all the rest of us do the same thing."

I appreciated his motive, but for the sake of others, I replied: "I

could not see that the term 'crooked' should be used. I rolled up the

rocks as STRAIGHT as I could, I placed them straight in the box, hitched

up my horse straight, drove straight to Kiowa, walked straight in the

saloon, threw straight and broke them up in the straightest manner, drove

home straight and I did not make a crooked step in smashing." This

of course was pleasantry, but it was the way I took to justify myself, as

but few seemed to see the merit or result of this crusade.

I never explained to the people that God told me to do this for some

months, for I tried to shield myself from the almost universal opinion

that I was partially insane.

I will now speak of my persecution for so-called slandering the

prosecuting attorney. As I said, no one mentioned such a thing until

the dives were closed. Closing the joints, called attention to the perjury

of the county officials, for it was proven to be their fault, that we

have dives in Kansas. In order to direct the attention from themselves,

as perjurers, and to me as insane, and to be avenged, they put their heads

together to bring this suit against me. Mr. Griffin was no more to blame

in this matter than the rest of the republicans. A. L. Noble, Polly Tincher,

Edd Sample, and Mr. Herr, the city attorney of Kiowa, were all employed

by Sam Griffin. This practically took all the legal ability, leaving one,

G. A. Martin, whom I retained. I had witnesses enough to prove gambling

and drinking in these dives by Sam, and the sheriff; had sufficient

testimony to justify me in saying what I did. The republican judge of

Kingman, Gillette, ruled out my testimony right through. If my case

had been conducted properly by my lawyer, and proper exceptions taken,

I could have taken the case to the supreme court, and had it reversed on

several rulings. Judge Stevens and Judge Lacey, who were at the trial,

told me they never saw such determination on the part of any judge to

cut out the defense as the rulings of Judge Gillette. It was evident that

everything was cut and dried before going into court. Judge Gillette

had several pages of instructions to the jury, telling them their duty was

to convict and that the damages should be a large sum. I had these

instructions examined by a good lawyer, Mr. Duminel, of Topeka, and the

judge overleaped his perogative. He should have told the jury the facts

and the statute governing slander, but his instructions were an appeal and

command to convict me. This Judge Gillette has a reputation for being

a respected citizen, but his zeal to save from disgrace his republican

colleagues led him to thus persecute a loyal woman Home Defender of

Kansas, and protect the rum defenders, and republican schemers, who

have done more to injure prohibition in Kansas than any other party.

If a democrat wanted to carry on a dive, republicans would grant him

the permit to do so.

The jury brought in a verdict of guilty; but the damages to the character

of this republican county attorney was one dollar, and of course

I sent him the dollar, but the cost which was, including all, about two

hundred dollars was assessed to me and a judgement put on a piece of

property, which I paid off, by the sale of my little hatchets, and lectures.

Strange these trials never caused me to become discouraged,

rather the reverse. I knew I was right, and God in his own time would

come to my help. The more injustice I suffered, the more cause I had

to resent the wrongs. I always felt that I was keeping others out of

trouble, when I was in. I had resolved that at the first opportunity I

would go to Wichita and break up some of the bold outlawed murder

mills there. I thought perhaps it was God's will to make me a sacrifice

as he did John Brown, and I knew this was a defiance of the national

intrigue of both republican and democratic parties, when I destroyed this

malicious property, which afforded them a means of enslaving the people,

taxing them to gather a revenue they could squander, and giving them

political jobs, thus creating a force to manage the interest and take care

of the results of a business where the advantage was in the graft it gave

to them and the brewers and distillers.

In two weeks from the close of this trial, on the 27th of December,

1900, I went to Wichita, almost seven months after the raid in Kiowa.

Mr. Nation went to see his brother, Mr. Seth Nation, in eastern Kansas

and I was free to leave home. Monday was the 26th, the day I started.

The Sunday before, the 25th, I went to the Baptist Sunday school then to

the Presbyterian for preaching, and at the close walked over to the Methodist

church for class meeting. I could not keep from weeping, but I

controlled myself the best I could. I did not know but that it would

be the last time I would ever see my dear friends again, and could not

tell them why. I gave my testimony at the class meeting; spoke particularly

to members of the choir about their extravagant dress; told them

that a poor sinner coming there for relief would be driven away, to see

such a vanity fair in front. I begged them to dress neither in gold, silver

or costly array, and spoke of the sin of wearing the corpses of dead birds

and plumage of birds, and closed by saying: "These may be my dying

words." At the close Sister Shell, a W. C. T. U. said to me: "What

do you mean by 'my dying words?' for you never looked better in your

life." I said: "You will know later." I never told anyone then of my

intention of smashing saloons in Wichita.

I took a valise with me, and in that valise I put a rod of iron, perhaps

a foot long, and as large around as my thumb. I also took a cane

with me. I found out by smashing in Kiowa that I could use a rock but

once, so I took the cane with me. I got down to Wichita about seven

o'clock in the evening, that day, and went to the hotel near the Santa Fe

depot and left my valise. I went up town to select the place I would begin

at first. I went into about fourteen places, where men were drinking

at bars, the same as they do in licensed places. The police standing with

the others. This outrage of law and decency was in violation of the oaths

taken by every city officer, including mayor and councilmen, and they were

as much bound to destroy these joints as they would be to arrest a murderer,

or break up a den of thieves, but many of these so-called officers

encouraged the violation of the law and patronized these places. I have

often explained that this was the scheme of politicians and brewers to

make prohibition a failure, by encouraging in every way the violation of

the constitution. I felt the outrage deeply, and would gladly have given

my life to redress the wrongs of the people. As Esther said: "How can

I see the desolation of my people? If I perish." As Patrick Henry said:

"Give me liberty or give me death."

I finally came to the "Carey Hotel," next to which was called the

Carey Annex or Bar. The first thing that struck me was the life-size

picture of a naked woman, opposite the mirror. This was an oil painting

with a glass over it, and was a very fine painting hired from the

artist who painted it, to be put in that place for a vile purpose. I called

to the bartender; told him he was insulting his own mother by having

her form stripped naked and hung up in a place where it was not even

decent for a woman to be in when she had her clothes on. I told him

he was a law-breaker and that he should be behind prison bars, instead

of saloon bars. He said nothing to me but walked to the back of his

saloon. It is very significant that the picture of naked women are in

saloons. Women are stripped of everything by them. Her husband is

torn from her, she is robbed of her sons, her home, her food and her

virtue, and then they strip her clothes off and hang her up bare in these

dens of robbery and murder. Well does a saloon make a woman bare of

all things! The motive for doing this is to suggest vice, animating the

animal in man and degrading the respect he should have for the sex to

whom he owes his being, yes, his Savior also.

I decided to go to the Carey for several reasons. It was the most

dangerous, being the finest. The low doggery will take the low and keep

them low but these so-called respectable ones will take the respectable,

make them low, then kick them out. A poor vagabond applied to a bar

tender in one of these hells glittering with crystalized tears and fine

fixtures. The man behind the bar said, "You get out, you disgrace my place."

The poor creature, who had been his mother's greatest treasure, shuffled

out toward the door. Another customer came in, a nice looking young

man with a good suit, a white collar, and looking as if he had plenty

of money, The smiling bar tender mixed a drink and was handing it to

him. The poor vagabond from the door called out. "Oh, don't begin on

him. Five years ago, I came into your place, looking just like that

young man. You have made me what you see me now. Give that drink

to me and finish your work. Don't begin on him."

I went back to the hotel and bound the rod and cane together, then

wrapped paper around the top of it. I slept but little that night, spending

most of the night in prayer. I wore a large cape. I took the cane

and walked down the back stairs the next morning, and out in the alley

I picked up as many rocks as I could carry under my cape. I walked into

the Carey Bar-room, and threw two rocks at the picture; then turned

and smashed the mirror that covered almost the entire side of the large

room. Some men drinking at the bar ran at break-neck speed; the bartender

was wiping a glass and he seemed transfixed to the spot and

never moved. I took the cane and broke up the sideboard, which had on

it all kinds of intoxicating drinks. Then I ran out across the street

to destroy another one. I was arrested at 8:30 A. M., my rocks and

cane taken from me, and I was taken to the police headquarters, where

I was treated very nicely by the Chief of Police, Mr. Cubbin, who

seemed to be amused at what I had done. This man was not very

popular with the administration, and was soon put out. I was kept

in the office until 6:30 P. M. Gov. Stanley was in town at that time,

and I telephoned to several places for him. I saw that he was dodging

me, so. I called a messenger boy and sent a note to Gov. Stanley,

telling him that I was unlawfully restrained of my liberty; that I wished

him to call and see me, or try to relieve me in some way. The messenger

told me, when he came back, that he caught him at his home, that he

read the message over three times, then said: "I have nothing to say,"

and went in, and closed the door. This is the man who taught Sunday

School in Wichita for twenty years, where they were letting these murder

shops run in violation of the law. Strange that this man should pull

wool over the eyes of the voters of Kansas. I never did have any

confidence in him. When he came to Medicine Lodge to lecture a few

months before this, I would not go to hear him, telling the people that

he was an enemy.

Kansas has learned some dear lessons, and she will be wise indeed

when she learns that only Prohibitionists will enforce prohibition laws.

That republicans and democrats are traitors, and no one belonging to

these parties should ever hold office, especially in Kansas.

At 6:30 P. M., I was tried and taken to Wichita jail; found guilty of

malicious mischief, Sam Amidon being the prosecuting attorney, and

the friend of every joint keeper in the city. He called me a "spotter"

when I wanted to give evidence against the jointists.

The legislature was to convene in a few days and it was understood

that the question of resubmitting the Prohibition Amendment would come

up. Being a part of the constitution, the people had to vote on it, and it

was frustrating their plans to have such agitation at this time, and

these republican leaders were determined to make a quietus of

me, if possible. The scheme was to get me in an insane asylum,

and they wished to increase my insanity as they called my zeal, so as to

have me out of their way, for I was calling too much attention to their

lawlessness, at this time, when it might prove disastrous to their plots.

Two sheriffs conducted me to my cell. The sensation of being locked in

such a place for the first time is not like any other, and never occurs the

second time. These men watched me after the door was locked. I tried

to be brave, but the tears were running down my face. I took hold of

the iron bars of my door, and tried to shake them and said: "Never mind,

you put me in here a cub, but I will go out a roaring lion and I will make

all hell howl." I wanted to let them know that I was going to grow while

in there.

Three days after, on the 30th, there was brought in and put next to

my cell an old man, named Isaiah Cooper, a lunatic, who raved, cursed

and tore his clothes and bedding. He was brought from the poor farm

where he was waiting to be sent to the insane asylum. There were some

cigarette, smokers in the jail and the fumes came in my cell, for I had

nothing but an open barred door. I begged that I might not be compelled

to smell this poison, but, instead of diminishing, the smoke increased.

Two prisoners from across the rotunda were brought next to

my cell.

What an outrage, to tax the citizens of Sedgwick County to build

such a jail as that in Wichita. It holds one hundred and sixty prisoners.

There were thirteen there when I was put in. I have been in many jails, but

in none did I ever see a rotary, except in Wichita, a large iron cage,

with one door, the little cells the shape of a piece of pie. Perhaps there

were a dozen in this one. The cage rotated within a cylinder. This was

for the worst criminals, and the cells were only large enough for a small

cot, a chair and a table about a foot square.

{illust. caption =

JUST BEFORE I LEFT WICHITA JAIL A PHOTOGRAPHER CAME TO MY CELL AND ASKED

TO TAKE MY PICTURE. HERE IT IS IN THE POSITION OF KNEELING, READING

MY BIBLE, WHICH WAS MY USUAL ATTITUDE.}

Mr. Simmons was the sheriff and he told the prisoners to "smoke all

they pleased," that he would keep them in material, and he kept his word.

Tobacco smoke is poison to me and cigarettes are worse. The health-

board belonged to this republican whiskey ring, and was in conspiracy

to make me insane, so they put a quarantine on the jail for three weeks,

and I was a lone woman in there, with two cigarette smokers, and a

maniac, next to my cell. John, the Trusty, smoked a horrid strong pipe,

and he also was next to my cell. Strange to say, when that jail had so

many apartments, and so few in them, that four inmates should have been

put next to me; but there was "a cause." Mr. Dick Dodd was the jailor,

and for three weeks he was the only one who came in my cell and I was

not allowed to see anyone in that time, but Dr. Jordan who called once.

I cried and begged to be relieved of the smoke, for I do not think Mr.

Dodd realized how poisonous it was to me. I would have to keep my

windows up in the cold January weather, and the fire would go down at

night. I had two blankets, no pillow and a bed that the criminals had

slept on for years perhaps. I would shiver with cold, and often would lay

on the cement floor with my head in my hands to keep out of the draught.

Oh! the physical agony! I had something like La Grippe which settled

on my bronchial tubes, from which I have never recovered, and I

expect to feel the effect to my dying day. I had a strong voice for

singing, which I lost, and have never been able to sing, to speak of since.

Hour after hour I would lay on the floor, listening to the ravings of this

poor old man, who would fall on his iron bed and hard floor, cursing and

calling out names. One night I thought I could not live to see day. I

had in my cell sweetest of all companions, my Bible. I read and studied

it, and this particular night I told the Lord he must come to my aid. As I

often do, I opened my Bible at random and read the first place I opened

to, the 144th Psalm. I have often read the book through, but this chapter

seemed entirely new. It reads, Verse 1: "Blessed be the Lord my

strength, which teacheth my hands to war and my fingers to fight. 2. My

goodness and my fortress my high tower and my deliverer; my shield

and He in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under me."

God told me in this chapter that He led me to "fight with my fingers

and war with my hands;" that He would be my REFUGE and DELIVERER;

that He would bring the people to me.

David had just such enemies as these when be says in this chapter:

"Cast forth thy lightnings and scatter them; shoot out thine arrows and

destroy them."

7. Send thine hand from above; rid me and deliver me out of great

waters from the hand of strange children.

8. Where mouth speaketh vanity; and where right hand is a right

hand of falsehood.

12. That our sons may be plants grown up in their youth; that our

daughters may be as corner-stones polished after the similitude of a

palace."

Here is the motive: The drink murders our sons, and do not allow

them to grow to be healthy, brave, strong men. The greatest enemy of

woman and her offspring and her virtue is the licensed hellholes or saloons.

13. "That our garners may be full of all manner of store."

Our grain is used to poison; our bread-stuff is turned to the venom

of asps and the bread winner is burdened with disease of drunkeness,

where health should be the result, of raising that which, when rotted and

made into alcohol, perpetrates ruin and death; Our garners or grain

houses are spoiled or robbed.

14. "That there be no breaking in or going out; that there be no

complaining in our street."

What is it causing the breaking into jails, prisons, asylums, penitentiaries,

alms-houses? The going out of the homes, of hearts; going out

into the cold; going into drunkard's graves and a drunkard's hell?

"Complaining in our streets." Oh! the cold and hungry little children!

Oh! the weeping wives and mothers! Oh! the misery and desolation

of the drunkards! All from this drink of sorrow and death.

15. "Happy is that people that is in such a case; yea, happy is that

people whose God is the Lord."

"People whose God is the Lord," will not allow this evil. They will

smash it out in one way or another. This blessed word was a "light to

my feet and a lamp to my pathway." I rejoiced for the comfort it gave

me; for the Lord truly talked to my soul while I read and reread this.

I must say that "Little Dodds," the turnkey as I called him, was often

kind to me, but he was completely the servant of Simmons and his wife.

Once Mr. Dodds asked me if I would leave the jail; that Sam

Amidon would bring a hack to the back door of the jail and he, Mr.

Dodds, and his wife, would go with me to Kansas City.

John, the Dutch trusty, said to me one day: "There is something

in the wind; people are coming and going and talking to Dodds." Mr.

Dodds was supposed to be quarantined in the jail, but he went in and

out of the office and he would also go to his home; the prisoners saw

him from the window time and time again.

It was agony to hear the ravings night and day of the poor old

maniac. He would frequently fall on his iron bed and floor. He was a

large man of about sixty years of age or over. He was helpless; but had

no one to take care of him, but John, the trusty, who for the sake of

mercy, would give him some attention. The sanitary condition of his

cell must have been something horrible, from the smell that came into

my room.

One night the poor lunatic fell so hard on the floor, or bed that he

lay as one dead, for some time. The jailer and others were aroused and

before they dare have a physician come in, they had to scrub and clean

the cell. Then Dr. Jordan came, and the old man was finally brought

to life. This doctor was in the conspiracy to have me adjudged insane;

A woman fifty-five years old, who never broke a statute of Kansas.

Mr. Dodds told me that Sam Amidon would have a cab at the back

door of the jail and would take me out. I consented. John, the Trusty,

said to me, "Don't you leave this jail, there is some plotting going on,

and they mean mischief. I asked him to get me a wire to fasten my door,

which he did, and I wound it around the open places in the door and to

the iron beam it shut on, and then John brought me the leg of a cot.

I watched all night, listening for some one to come in my cell to drag me

out. With the cot leg I was going to strike their hands if they attempted

to open the door. I know what it is to expect murder in my cell. God

said, 'He would stand by me, and who but He, has."

I got so many letters from poor, distracted mothers, who wrote so

often: "For God's sake come here." In some letters there was money.

One letter from a United Brethren church in Winfield, Kansas; the minister,

Bro. Hendershot, wrote me that he took up a collection in their

church for me of $7.38. How I cried over that letter and kissed it! I

knew that I had some friends who understood me; and just after this

letter, one from a Catholic priest came, which was a great comfort. The

many letters I got from all kinds of vice was a great encouragement to

me. I must say: "All hell got hit, when I smashed the saloons." For

I never, until then, knew that people thought, or could write such vile

things; letter after letter, of the most horrible infidelity, cursing God,

calling me every vile name, and threatening me.

I was not allowed a pillow; I begged for one, for I had La Grippe,

and my head was as sore as a boil. Mr. Dodd frequently brought

me the papers, and nearly every time that Wichita Eagle would have some

falsehoods concerning me, always giving out that I "was crazy," "was

in a padded cell," "only a matter of time when I would be in the

insane asylum;" that I used "obscene language" and "was raving." The

bible says: "All liars shall have their part in the lake that burns with

fire;" so the Murdocks of Wichita ought to tremble. I associate the

name "Murdock" with murderer. The real depravity of such people

was shown, when a lone old woman with a love of humanity, was in a

cell suffering so unjustly, that these people should have left nothing

undone to prejudice the people against her. Even when my brother

died, this Murdock paper spoke of me "raving in jail," and I was not

privileged to go to him in his dying hours. Such people drove the nails

in the hands and the spear in the side of Jesus.

This Wichita Eagle is the rum-bought sheet that has made Wichita

one of the most lawless places in Kansas.

When first arrested in Wichita, in violation of the Constitution, I

was denied bail and compelled to bring a Habeas corpus proceeding in

the Supreme Court to get a trial or bail. Sam Amidon as attorney

for Simmons proposed a return to the writ, and filed a false certificate

from Dr. Shults, president of the Board of Health, stating that Board had

quarantined the jail. Rather than face the Supreme Court with a false

return the case was dismissed. I do not believe that history ever recorded

a quarantine of a jail before, for public buildings, such as post

office, court houses or jails cannot be made pest houses, and such buildings

are cleansed. There was not a meeting of the Health Board. This

was a conspiracy, signed by Dr. Shults and the sheriff, for the purpose

of keeping me in jail, preventing me from seeing my friends or lawyers,

and by persecution to get me in an insane asylum. Below is a copy of this

fraudulent notice:

ORIGINAL NOTICE TO O. D. KIRK, JUDGE, WARDEN EBEY,

CLERK, CHAS. W. SIMMONS, SHERIFF. SERVED

TUESDAY, JANUARY 15, 1901.

To O. D. Kirk, Judge, Harden Ebey, Clerk, and Charles W. Simmons,

Sheriff:

You, and each of you, are hereby notified that the following is a

copy of a paper purporting to be a statement made by J. W. Shults,

President of the Board of Health, of Wichita, Kansas, and attached to

the return of Charles W. Simmons in the The Matter of the Application

of CARRIE NATION for a Writ of Habeas Corpus now pending in

The Supreme Court of the State of Kansas, viz:

"Wichita, Kansas, December 29, 1900.

"At special meeting of the Board of Health, held in the City of

Wichita, Kansas, on the 29th day of December, 1900, at the office of Dr.

J. W. Shults, President of the Board of Health, the following resolution

was adopted and ordered spread upon the minutes kept by the said

board. 'Whereas it has come to the knowledge of the Board of Health

that the inhabitants of the jail of Sedgwick County, Kansas, have been

exposed to small pox and that one Isaiah Cooper confined therein has been

exposed to smallpox and is infected with said disease and that the said

Isaiah Cooper is a violently insane man and it is impossible to move him

from said jail and that all of the said jail have been exposed to the same

and that one W. A. Jordan, who is County Physician of Sedgwick County

and City Physician of the City of Wichita, Kansas, asked and desired

and demanded that said jail be quarantined or that said Isaiah Cooper

be removed therefrom and that said jail be fumigated, and whereas it is

impossible to remove the said Isaiah Cooper therefrom, the action of

said W. A. Jordan in recommending the quarantine of the said county

jail and in quarantining the same is hereby approved and the said

county jail is hereby declared quarantined and ordered quarantined for

the space of twenty-one days from this date and all persons in charge of

said jail and the health officer of said city are hereby directed to enforce

this said quarantine and the order of the said W. A. Jordan.

J. W. SHULTS, M. D.

President of Board of Health."

and that the above statement is not true; that there was no meeting of

the Board of Health on the 29th day of December, 1900 and that the

said jail has never been quarantined by the said board of health on the

said 29th day of December or at any other time.

Dated at Wichita, Kansas, January 14, 1901.

W. S. ALLEN,

RAY & KEITH,

ROBT. BROWN,

Attorneys for Carrie Nation, an Inmate of said Jail.

Served on O. B. Kirk, 9:20 a. m., Tuesday, January 15, 1901.

Harden Ebey, 9:20 a. m., Tuesday, January 15, 1901.

Chas. W. Simmons, 9:35 a. m., Tuesday, January 15, 1901.

I could tell of many interesting incidents in jail.

There were five singers, one a graduate of the conservatory of music

in Boston, and Mr. Dodd was a fine singer himself; he would often sing

with the prisoners and it was a great pleasure to me. One song he

would have the boys sing was: "My Old Kentucky Home." We had a

genuine poet there, and I here give you a poem he sent up to me one day,

by the trusty:

SOLEMN THOUGHTS.

'Twas an aged and Christian martyr,

Sat alone in a prison cell,

Where the law of state had brought her,

For wrecking an earthly hell.

Day by day, and night she dwelt there,

Singing songs of Christ's dear love;

At His cross she pray'd and knelt there,

As an angel from above.

In the cells and 'round about her,

Prisoners stood, deep stained in sin;

Listening to the prayers she'd offer,

Looking for her Christ within.

Some who'd never known a mother,

Ne'er had learned to kneel and pray,

Raised their hands, their face to cover,

Till her words had died away.

In the silent midnight hours,

Came a voice in heavenly strain,

Floating o'er in peaceful showers,

Bringing sunshine after rain.

Each one rose from out his slumber,

Listening to her songs of cheer,

Then the stillness rent asunder,

With their praises loud and clear.

Praise from those whose crimes had led them,

O'er a dark and stormy sea,

Where its waves had lashed and tossed them

Into "hell's" captivity.

Wine it was, the drink that led them,

From the tender Shepherd's fold,

Now they hear His voice call them,

With His precious words of gold.

Like the sheep that went astray,

Twice we've heard the story told,

They heard His voice, they saw the way,

That leads to His pastured fold.

The first time I was put in jail, after everything was quiet, I heard

some prisoner down below, swearing, and I called out: "What do you

mean boys by asking God to damn this place? I think he has done so

and we don't want any more damns here. Get down on your knees and

ask God to bless you." And all the rest of time I never heard an oath.

In a week or so I heard them singing hymns; and I called to them:

"How are you boys?"

"We have all been converted since the first of January," was their

reply.

One of those young men got out while I was there, and came to my

cell and told me that it was true about their conversion.

Oh! the sad hearts behind the bars! Oh! the injustice! I am glad

I have been a prisoner for one thing, I never see a face behind the bars

that my heart does not pity. I have heard so many tales of ruined lives;

have seen men with muscles and brain, bowed into tears. Oh, if we

would only love each other more; if we would feel as Paul: "To owe

love to all we meet, and pay the debt. 'Tis the most pleasant debt to

pay and the indebtedness blesses both parties, especially the one who

pays." I used to think that birth and other circumstances made one person

better than another. I do not see it that way now. The man with

many opportunities is not entitled to as much consideration as one with

fewer. I am the defender of the one who needs help most. The great

need of the world is Love.

CHAPTER IX.

OUT OF JAIL.--EGGS AND STONE.--SMASHING STILLING'S JOINT AT ENTERPRISE.--

WHIPPED BY HIRED PROSTITUTES.--PLOT AT HOLT BY HOTEL KEEPER

AND JOINTIST TO POISON AND SLUG ME.--AT CONEY ISLAND.--HAND

BROKEN AND HANDCUFFS.

I got out of Wichita jail about the last week in January, 1901, under

a writ of habeas corpus. I got bail,--I forget who went my bail, but God

bless them; and left on the evening train about seven o'clock.

While in jail I got a letter asking me to come to Enterprise, Dickinson

County, and break up saloons there. I said the name ENTERPRISE,

is good and I will go; so I left jail with the intention of going there.

It was dark when I started for the train. Many of the Salvation Army

were near me. The streets were almost impassable, and the whole city

seemed to be on the streets marching down to the station, yelling and

laughing.

Many said: "Are you not afraid?" Perfect love casteth out all fear

I love the people, I do not fear them.

There walked by my side, a man keeping the crowd back. "Are you

one of the Salvation Army?" I said to him.

He said: "No, I am only a tin horn gambler."

I asked him: "Why do you seem to be such a friend of mine."

He answered: "Because I intend that no one shall hurt you, for

you are a good woman, and I will see you safe. They all know me, and

they will not hurt you." He carried my valise and put me on the train.

There were several thousand at the depot and the crowding was

dangerous. I wanted to see the crowd, so I raised the window, waved

my hand and as the train pulled out, the eggs began to come; the window

fell down and I did not get a spatter. God said: "I'll stand by you."

explains this. In two minutes a rock the size of my fist came crashing

in at the window; shivered the glass, and the rock fell down at my side;

which was a miracle. Not once did I feel alarmed but smiled; while all

the passengers were on their feet with fright.

I got to Enterprise at night. I stayed all night with Mrs. Hoffman

and next morning, I went down to a dive kept by a man named Stillings.

He had closed to go out to a baseball game. The door was locked, so I

broke the front glass and climbed in. Several ladies were on the outside,

and were friendly to my smashing. I broke the place up. There were

twelve cases of beer and I destroyed them and piled them up in the center

of the room on the floor. At the close, the marshal came in, took me out

and would not let me break up the other dive near by. Neither did he

arrest me.

I came down on the corner of the street that night, to tell the people

why I did this, when Stillings passed, cursing and shaking his fist at me,

saying: "My wife will settle you." Just then a furious woman came

around the corner, rushed up to me and struck me a fearful blow in the

eye, then ran to her husband, Stillings, and in a frantic manner said:

"I have done what you asked me, now let us go home." I stopped speaking

long enough to go into a meat shop and have a piece of fresh meat

bound on my eye, which was already very dark and painful. Then I

finished my address on the street, and went up to a meeting in the church,

gave an address, and we organized a society to smash saloons, if they did

not close. Next morning we went down the street in a body, Mrs. Hoffman

and other women, and the other dive keeper talked to us and promised

to go out of business. This Stillings came to me again cursing and

threatening, saying: "His wife would fix me." Although this man was

disturbing the peace, disorderly and dangerous, no one offered to arrest

him. He held me, while four women ran from some place with whips

and sticks. One beat me with her fist, another with a whip, one with a

raw-hide, while one pulled my hair and kicked me into the gutter, nearly

killing me.

I said: "Women, will you let me be murdered." For although there

were men and women present, not one did a thing, until at last, an old

lady, the mother of the saloon-keeper's wife, picked up a brick and said:

"If anyone strikes that woman again I will hit them with this." Then all

rushed to defend me.

I was almost breathless. My hair was down, much of it being pulled

out. I went home with my friend, Mrs. Hoffman. These parties were

arrested. The trial brought out the fact that this dive-keeper, Stillings,

had hired these women. To the gambler's wife he was to give twenty-

five dollars, to use the raw-hide. Two women were prostitutes, whom

this Stillings had brought to town for this purpose. They were fined a

small sum, and the whole of them given a few hours to leave town.

My body was bruised and sore. My limbs were striped with bruises;

but I was only disabled two days.

While in Enterprise I got a telegram from Holt, signed by the "Temperance

Committee," it read: "Come here and help us break up dives."

This little town was only twelve miles from Enterprise. In going to

the train that night there seemed to have been some one hiding on every

corner throwing eggs. My dress was covered with them. I got to Holt

at midnight. When I got off the train, I then knew it was a plot to

injure me for no one was there to meet me, and I saw some suspicious

men keeping in the dark. I got in a hack and went to a hotel.

I asked for the women but all had retired. I went up to my room,

which was very small. It had one window which was raised an inch

with a lath under it, and I thought it strange at the time that the landlord

should have let the window down, but I was very tired and dropped

asleep almost as soon as I touched the bed. About two o'clock I was

awakened with a smothered feeling, struggling for breath. I jumped for

the window, which I threw up, for the room was full of the most poisonous

odor, as of cigarettes, and other smells. I knew that there were persons

at the door puffing the poison in. I sat at the window and listened

and in about fifteen minutes I heard some one whistling and saw

through the transom that a light was coming. A man stopped at my

door and knocked.

"What do you want?"

"I want to speak to you," he replied.

"What is it?"

"I want to speak to you."

God showed me in a vision two men crouched on each side of the

door ready to either catch or slug me, if the door was opened.

"I see you sluggers on each side of the door. You villain, you have

tried to murder me by throwing poison in my room and now you are

trying something else."

"There is a mob here after you."

"You are a liar," I answered.

"There is a committee wants to speak to you."

"You are telling lies in order to have me open my door."

He left and went down below, and for ten minutes there was a

great tramping of feet and I could hear the landlord making out as

if he was dispersing a crowd. I watched from my window and saw two

men walking away. I certainly was thankful for a lock on my door.

Next morning when ready to leave my room, I looked up and down the

passages well; then I hurried and did not feel safe, until I got on the

outside. I asked a little boy if there were any Christians in Holt.

"No, but there are some in the country."

I got my breakfast at a restaurant, and I called out on the streets

that I would hold a meeting in front of this hotel where I had stopped.

There was a crowd and I then told of the telegram and of how I was

treated. I pointed to the landlord, who was the picture of a villain, and

a coward. The two dive-keepers of Holt were at this meeting. They

asked me if I intended to smash the saloons there.

"Of course, I didn't come to Holt to do anything else."

One man told me that he would shoot me if I came into his place.

"I am not afraid of your gun. Maybe it would be a good thing for

a saloon-keeper to kill Carry Nation. It might be the means of causing

the people to smash the dives."

The one that talked to me was white with fear and anger, but at

last the color came back to his face, and soon he was in good humor; he

told me he never expected to open that saloon again. In less than ten

days from that time, the people of the county became so aroused, that

the prosecuting attorney closed every saloon in the county, which were

twelve in number.

From Holt I went to Topeka. I stopped with the United Brethren

minister there, and spoke in his church. The saloons were all over

Topeka. I went down town after dark, to see the condition of things.

It was soon learned that I was on the streets, and a crowd gathered.

I went to some dives and joints. I could not get in. One had his mistress

stationed at the door with a broomstick. She gave me four blows

before I could get away, poor creature. I met her niece after that, who

told how the saloon-keeper cast her off and that she died a miserable death.

While I was there the State Temperance Union had a meeting in

the First Presbyterian church. Capt. Cook, from Chetopa, got up in the

meeting and said: "Here is ten dollars towards giving a medal to the

bravest woman in Kansas, Carry Nation." One hundred and twenty

dollars was raised.

I said: "I would prefer that the money be used to pay my lawyers,

rather than be put into a medal as I did not wear gold in any way."

We held a good many meetings. I spoke in several churches and

held meetings in Dr. Eva Harding's office, where we prepared to take

measures to break up saloons in Topeka, where sworn officials were

perjuring themselves from governor down to constable. About this time

a certain woman pretended to be a friend of mine, but was a spy and

a traitor. I believe she was hired by the jointists to find out our plans.

She told me she knew where every saloon in the city was and would

show them to me. It was understood by a few of us that we would make

a raid one morning in February, 1901, and I called on this woman to show

us where the places were. We wandered around from street to street,

and I soon discovered that she was keeping me away from them. One

young boy said: "I'll show you a place."

I came to one dive. I lifted my hatchet to smash the door and this

woman grabbed at my hatchet and so did the man. He slammed the door

and left his hat in my hand. I passed on down to the "Senate" saloon and

went in. This was about daylight. The bartender ran towards me with

a yell, wrenched my hatchet out of my hand and shot off his pistol toward

the ceiling; he then ran out of the back door, and I got another hatchet

from a lady with us. I ran behind the bar, smashed the mirror and all

the bottles under it; picked up the cash register, threw it down; then

broke the faucets of the refrigerator, opened the door and cut the rubber

tubes that conducted the beer. Of course it began to fly all over the

house. I threw over the slot machine, breaking it up and I got from

it a sharp piece of iron with which I opened the bungs of the beer

kegs, and opened the faucets of the barrels, and then the beer flew in

every direction and I was completely saturated. A policeman came in

and very good-naturedly arrested me. For this I was fined $100 and put

in jail. Mr. Cook was sheriff and I was treated very nicely by him and

Mrs. Cook. Mrs. Cook's mother was visiting them at this time, a woman

thoroughly in sympathy with my work, and I believe that the influence of

this good woman was the cause of my being treated so well, for after

she left things were very different.

That republican conspiracy in Topeka determined to put me in the

insane asylum. One of them, Judge Magaw, swore on the witness stand

that he believed me insane. His examination brought out the fact that I

compelled him to turn some obscene pictures to the wall once, when I

called to see him in his office.