THE TRUE STORY OF ESTELLE RAMON OF KENTUCKY.
By Principal D. F. Sutherland, Red Water, Texas.
She is one to be pitied, and not slandered. She was as pure as the air
which she breathed in her humble home among the blue hills of the
winding Cumberland. "She was light of heart and gay of wing as Eden's
garden bird."
John and Amanda Ramon, after they were married, bought a little farm and
settled down near the battlefield of Mill Springs. John was one of these
great, big, good-looking, honest and hard-working men from the
mountains. His wife, Amanda Ramon, was a refined and well educated
Kentucky woman and a woman who loved to be with the "society" folks. She
loved to wear fine dresses and spent more in this way than her husband
could really afford, and this caused him to have to work very hard early
and late. He went to clearing and improving his little farm and
everybody was talking about what a noble fellow young John Ramon was and
how well he seemed to be getting along. His wife did not seem to be
satisfied to live in the hills. She wanted John to sell out and move to
Somerset.
Two years passed away on the little farm, and Estelle Ramon was born.
John promised Amanda when Estelle grew old enough to attend school that
he would sell out and move to town. Years passed on and John Ramon
continued to work hard, and by hard work and good management he began to
prosper. He built a new house and bought Estelle a piano. His wife still
wanted to move to town, but John didn't want to go. He told his wife
that he had nothing in town and no work there to do, that they were
beginning to get along fairly well and the best thing for them to do was
to let well enough alone, and that he wanted her to release him from his
promise to move to town, which by the entreaties of Estelle she
reluctantly did. John was happy in his home life with his wife and
little girl, who had now reached the age of fifteen years. She had from
the time she could toddle around been constantly with her father. In the
fields making the hay, gathering the crops, seeing after the stock, you
would find Estelle and her father always together. After supper she
would climb upon her father's knee and he would always tell her some
little story to please her. She would ride the horse to the pasture and
John would carry her back in his big, strong arms. She was essentially a
papa's girl, and her father almost idolized his child. When she was old
enough she attended the country school close by and was known as the
brightest pupil in the school. She learned music from her mother, and
it was her chief delight to sing and play in the evenings for her
parents. She was loved by everybody in the neighborhood, young and old.
At an early age she joined the church, and she could always be found in
her place in the church and in the Sunday school, first as a pupil of
the Sunday school and later on as a teacher of a class of little boys
and girls. It was said that in after years every boy and girl in her
class became model Christians.
[Illustration: A DIVE "BOUNCER" THRUSTING OUT A MISSIONARY
Every dive has a big, strong man, usually an ex-prizefighter, who keeps
order in the place. When a man has spent all his money he is thrown into
the street. All "undesirables" are treated the same way, including
missionaries.]
[Illustration: Daisy at fourteen]
[Illustration: Daisy at seventeen--"Young and so Fair."
"DAISY"
The top picture shows a pure, winsome girl of fourteen going to school
in a little country town. The bottom one is the same girl who left her
home town to take a position in the city. The man she trusted deceived
her.]
One day a messenger was sent in haste from the schoolhouse to John
Ramon's home to tell him to come at once, that Estelle had become
violently ill while playing on the school playground. John Ramon turned
white and came near fainting, strong man as he was, when this saddest of
all news reached him. In a few moments he had hitched up the horses to a
carriage and he and his wife were going as fast as the horses could take
them to their child, whom they found in a dangerous condition. She was
carried in the arms of her father to the carriage and driven home. In a
short time the doctor reached the Ramon home and was by the bedside of
Estelle. She had been stricken down with typhoid fever. John Ramon, with
his life almost gone out of him, waited for the doctor's report from the
sick room. When he came out he asked him what were the chances for his
child to get well. The doctor told him that she had a severe case of
typhoid fever, and the chances of recovery were against her, but with
close attention and nursing she had a chance to get well. John Ramon
said, "Doctor, I am willing to take that chance." Day after day and
night after night John Ramon sat by the bedside of his child as she
lingered between life and death. The doctor would come and shake his
head and say, "She is no better." For eight days and nights John Ramon
had eaten scarcely anything and slept not a wink. On the evening of the
eighth day the doctor came as usual. He told John Ramon that this night
would determine whether his child would die or get well, that there
would be a change before daylight for better or for worse. After giving
John Ramon directions and telling him to wake him up if he saw any
change in the child, the doctor lay down to get a much needed rest and
some sleep. The clock ticked off the hours and no change came. The clock
struck one, two, three. John Ramon had never, during all the long and
weary night hours, taken his eyes off his child. There he sat in great
trouble and sorrow, watching her. The clock struck three, and Estelle
opened her eyes, looked at John Ramon, and said, "Is this you, papa?" He
knew that she was better. He rushed into the room where the doctor was
sleeping and awoke him. The doctor, not knowing whether the change was
for the better or worse, hastened into the sick room and felt of
Estelle's pulse and said, "John Ramon, your child is better, the crisis
is passed. She will get well." The joy of John Ramon and his wife could
hardly be restrained. The doctor told them that they must be quiet, or
they might excite her and make her worse. The crisis had passed and
Estelle improved rapidly and was soon able to sit up and ride out with
her parents. John and Amanda Ramon were filled with joy and a great
weight seemed to be lifted from the whole neighborhood on account of the
recovery of Estelle, for she was dearly loved by all who knew her.
On an adjoining farm to John Ramon lived a neighbor by the name of David
Scott, as true a man as ever lived among the hills of the Cumberland
river. David Scott had one son, William Scott, as noble a lad as ever
lived. He was honest, true, and like Estelle, was loved by all. William
was just two years older than Estelle, and together they had played from
early childhood. During Estelle's sickness no one, unless her parents,
seemed more anxious about her than did William Scott. Never a day or
night passed but that William Scott called at the Ramon home to inquire
about Estelle during the whole time of her illness. After she got well
and took her place in the church and the Sunday school William Scott was
there too. He thought that there was none like her, and she thought a
great deal of him.
One day about three months after Estelle had recovered Mrs. Ramon said
to her husband, "John, have you noticed that William Scott is showing
too much attention to Estelle? I don't like it and we must stop it or
the first thing we know he will be coming here to pay his attentions to
her. Another thing, I believe that Estelle thinks a good deal of him."
"Well, suppose she does," said John Ramon, "is not William a good boy
and a good companion for Estelle, or anybody else?" "Yes, I know that he
is a good boy, but, if we continue to let Estelle associate with him as
she has been doing, the first thing we know he will be thinking of
marrying her, and I could not bear the thought of having William Scott
for a son-in-law." "I don't suppose there is any danger of our having to
lose our Estelle soon, but when she is old enough to marry, I would
rather she would marry William Scott than anybody that I know." "What!
Estelle marry Bill Scott? I would rather see her dead and buried."
"Well, Amanda, what objections can you find to William Scott?" "I have
no particular objection to him, but he is not good enough for Estelle. I
want her to marry a man who knows how to take her into society. I want
her to marry a professional gentleman, and not a greenhorn like William
Scott." "Well, Amanda, I don't care so much about Estelle going into
what some people please to call 'society,' but I want her to marry a
true man who can and will make her life happy. I have no fault to find
with William Scott. I know that he is thinking a good deal of Estelle,
and that she thinks quite well of him, and if they should want to get
married sometime I am not going to interfere." "You may not interfere,
but I tell you now that Estelle shall never marry William Scott."
Estelle came in from school, and this ended the conversation. Estelle
and William had told each other from childhood that when they got old
enough they were going to get married. On Sunday before the conversation
between John and Amanda Ramon, William Scott had reminded Estelle of
their long ago agreement, and Estelle had told him that they would carry
out this agreement some day when they were older. Estelle one day told
William that her father liked him, but that her mother hated him and
that it would be best that he quit coming to her home. It was on this
occasion that William and Estelle plighted each other their love and he
told her that nothing but death could ever separate him from her, and
that he would, if necessary, give his life for her. In after years they
both well remembered these words.
John Ramon continued to work hard and to prosper. One day when he came
home from town he told his wife and Estelle that rafting logs down the
river was dangerous, and that if anything should happen to him he wanted
to leave them a living, and, for this reason, he had his life insured
today while in town for $5,000. Heavy rains were falling up the
Cumberland and John Ramon was working hard, he and his hired hands, to
get the log raft ready to go down the river and carry his logs to
Nashville when the river got high enough.
One evening John learned that a head rise was coming down the
Cumberland, and he and all hands were making ready to cut the raft loose
and carry it to the saw mills in Nashville as he had been doing year
after year. Late on this evening John Ramon kissed his wife and Estelle
good-by. He lingered longer than was his custom, and said that somehow
he felt uneasy as if something was going to happen. At dark he reached
the river and at ten o'clock they heard the head rise coming. The raft
was cut loose and the rise struck it and carried it out into the middle
of the river. The rushing waters bore down so heavily on the raft that
it broke and went to pieces in the middle of the rushing waters. John
Ramon became entangled among some of the logs and could not loose
himself. He called for help, but no help could reach him in the darkness
of the night and the fury of the waters. His voice rang out above the
noise of the waters, and he cried out the last words he ever spoke on
earth, "William, I'm gone. Promise me that you will take care of
Estelle." The voice of William Scott rang out "I swear to you that I
will do it." John Ramon went down; others of the crew escaped on logs.
I shall not undertake to describe the great sorrow in the Ramon home
when, three days later, the body of John Ramon was found and brought
home for burial. Who can tell the heaviness which bore down upon the
heart of Estelle? He was buried, and week after week Estelle would carry
flowers and place them upon his grave.
A year now has passed away, and Estelle is seventeen, one of the most
loveable and beautiful girls in Southern Kentucky. The death of her
father had mellowed her life. She was a woman in ways, if a child in
years. William Scott had watched her faithfully as he had promised her
father in the hour of his death. Mrs. Ramon yet determined more than
ever that Estelle should never marry William Scott. She had set her
heart on some professional man for Estelle's husband who knew how to
make her a belle of society. She was the only counsellor of her
daughter, and in every way did she endeavor to cause her to break with
young Scott. She often pictured to her the grand life she might live
with some educated gentleman in the highest society; that her beauty and
training could and would make her admired by everybody, and that she
should not throw her chances away upon Bill Scott. She would never allow
Scott to call upon Estelle, and managed to keep Estelle for the most
part out of his company.
One day a well-dressed and handsome young man came into the Ramon
neighborhood. He gave it out that he was an artist from Cincinnati,
Ohio, and had come to make some sketches of the beautiful scenery along
the Cumberland. He was polite and gentlemanly in his manners, a good
conversationalist and entertaining. This artist, as he was thought to
be, was introduced into the Ramon home and soon became a great favorite
of Mrs. Ramon, and he did not fail to show every courtesy and attention
to the fair Estelle. This artist soon found out that his success
depended, not upon the girl, but upon her mother. He had been telling
Mrs. Ramon of the beauty and the accomplishments of her daughter, and
how she would shine in society if ever given an opportunity. He did not
fail to impress upon her his own importance and society connections.
This suited Mrs. Ramon exactly, and she determined to marry Estelle to
the artist. He declared to the mother his great and undying love for her
daughter, and how it would be the delight of his life to give her the
chance in the world to which her beauty so justly entitled her. Little
by little did the mother, her child's only adviser, succeed in winning
her over to her way of thinking. The artist had declared his love to
Estelle herself. She hesitated, and thought of young Scott, whose heart
she knew was breaking. Her mother persisted and the artist used his
blandishments, and soon it was given out that Estelle Ramon would be
married to the Cincinnati artist. When this reached the ears of William
Scott, he was nearly prostrated by the terrible blow. He wrote Estelle a
letter in which he told her of the promise that he had made to her dying
father, and that he was going to keep that promise. He warned her
against marrying this strange young man, of whom she knew nothing.
Estelle when she read this letter came near declining to marry the
artist. Her own heart told her that William Scott was right, but the
artist and the mother persisted. For fear that Estelle would yet refuse
to marry the artist, the wedding day was set for the following Sunday.
Sunday came, and Estelle, as pale as death, walked out on the floor, and
she and the artist were married. How happy was the mother; how sad were
Estelle and William Scott!
Soon the Ramon home and all the property were sold, preparatory to
taking Estelle and her mother to the city. The $5000 of insurance and
the $3000 which the home and other property were sold for were turned
over to the artist to invest in a home in the city. Mrs. Ramon was to
visit her people for a short while and Estelle and the artist were to go
on and make ready the home in the city. On the morning before Estelle
left she received a note from William Scott, saying that if ever she
needed his assistance she would get it. She and the artist took the
train at Somerset, and Estelle Ramon was whirled away to her doom. She
was carried to Cincinnati, Ohio, where her husband told her that they
would spend a week before looking out for a home. She spent this week in
a lodging house in the outskirts of the city. At the end of this week
the artist told her that they had better rest up another week before
they began looking around. The second week passed away as the first, and
when he tried to put her off again she grew suspicious and became
alarmed for the first time. She told him that he must get the home, or
that he had to take her back to her mother. He went out and pretty soon
came back with a telegram from, he told her, a friend of his in
Cleveland, inviting them to visit Cleveland and procure a home there.
Reluctantly she went with the artist to Cleveland, where they were met
by some one in a closed carriage and driven to a house, which she soon
learned was a house of ill-fame. On reaching this place she was carried
to a room in a secluded part of the building. Her husband then informed
her where she was and that here she would have to remain. That he was
done with her, and for her to give his regards to her mother if they
ever met again; that he was much obliged to her for the $8000 in cash,
and that he wished her a good time with the madam. Estelle fainted, and
this devil turned on his heels, walked away and has never been heard of
since. The madam knew how to treat girls who fainted, for she had seen
them faint in her house before, and she brought Estelle back to
consciousness. Who can picture now the horrors which rose up before
Estelle? It can not be done, and I must leave it for the imagination of
the reader. In vain did Estelle beg and plead to be let go. Useless were
her piteous moans for freedom. The madam told her that she had bought
her and paid for her, and that she was going to keep her; that the best
thing she could do was to quiet down and submit to her fate willingly,
and was informed of what she was expected to do and had to do. The madam
told her that she had often paid as much as $100 for pretty girls like
her, but that she only had to pay $50 for her by solemnly promising that
she would not let her get away. Three months she was confined in this
prison. It is beyond the power of man to describe the darkness, the
blackness, the fearfulness and the horrors of her life now. Her only
hope was the words of William Scott. She knew that he meant every word
he said, and would rescue her if possible. How could he find her, was
the question she would ask herself in her despair. Yet she hoped against
hope that in some way or other he would find her.
Three months had passed away and the mother of Estelle had heard no
tidings of her child. She was wild, she was frantic, she was mad. The
terrible strain had been more than she could bear. She became a maniac,
and in her ravings she would call for Estelle to come back to her. She
would talk of nothing but Estelle. Amanda Ramon had destroyed her own
life and the life of her child.
Where is William Scott, the child playmate, the youthful lover of
Estelle, the one who promised to defend her?
William Scott had believed that the "artist" was a scoundrel the first
time he laid eyes on him. No sooner had suspicions of foul play been
aroused in the neighborhood than young Scott took the train for
Cincinnati. There he employed a detective to aid him in his search for
Estelle. After one week of close search in every part of the city, the
place was found where the "artist" and Estelle boarded during their two
weeks' stay in Cincinnati. Where they went could not be learned from any
source, so well had the "artist" covered up his tracks. He advertised
for her in the newspapers and secured the services of detectives in
several cities. He concluded after a search of two months that she had
been killed or taken to New York City, and perhaps across the ocean to
some foreign country. His money was by this time all gone. He wrote home
to his father and told him to see his friends and the friends of Estelle
and send him money with which to continue the search, for he intended to
find her, if alive. The money was raised immediately and sent to William
Scott. He next went to New York, where he spent day after day and night
after night in searching for the lost girl, but with a sad heart he had
to give it up, for not the remotest clew could he get. He resolved to go
back to Cincinnati and see if he could find out anything more about her
in the neighborhood where she spent the two weeks. He learned nothing
new and had almost lost all hope. One night while sitting in the lobby
of a hotel he overheard a conversation between two gamblers. One of
them was telling the other about being in Cleveland and at a certain
place where he met the most beautiful girl that he ever saw. He went on
to describe her to the other gambler, and wound up by telling him that
she fought like a tiger, and showed him the scratches which he said this
girl had made on his face with her finger nails. The description given
by one of these gamblers to the other was that of Estelle. William Scott
later said that he could hardly keep from killing this man then and
there in the hotel. Young Scott took the first train for Cleveland, not
daring to seek further information from the gambler. He was fully
convinced that Estelle was in a house of ill-fame in that city. By this
time he had learned that it would not do him any good to tell his
troubles to the police, for some of them would be more likely to help
the madam secrete the girl than to help him get her away. On reaching
Cleveland, he determined to tell no one of his mission or why he was
there. He determined to form his own plans and carry them out. He felt
sure that he and Estelle were now in the same city and the thought
almost made him wild. He knew that if she was in a house of ill-fame she
was there against her will and was forced to remain there. He determined
to visit every house of prostitution in the city or find her.
The third night of his rounds he visited one of these houses and was
admitted into the parlor. The madam came in and asked him if he wished
to see some of the girls. He told her that he would not object if she
had one real pretty. She told him that the girls were all out now except
one she called the "fighting girl from the country." He told her that he
didn't guess that she was much of a fighter and that he didn't mind her
fighting. He could hardly control his feelings. He paid the madam $5 and
went upstairs. "What if she screams when she sees me and gives the whole
thing away?" thought young Scott to himself. He felt sure that she was
Estelle, and that he was going to meet her now. The door was unlocked,
and he entered. She had dozed off into a sleep. He locked the door and
waited till the hall was clear before waking her. He turned on the
light, looked into her face. She was Estelle! He pulled two revolvers
out of his pockets and laid them where they would be handy, for he had
resolved to take her out of this place this night or die in the attempt.
The light shone on her face and showed him how pale and troubled she
looked. He could see the great sorrows of her soul written in her face
as she lay there sleeping. He bent over her, touched her face and
whispered, "It is William Scott, from Mill Springs, Kentucky, who has
come to take you home. For your life, don't make any noise." She opened
her eyes and saw him and knew him and fainted away from joy. He bathed
her face and soon returning consciousness came to her. She realized at
once how necessary it was for her to keep quiet. They held a whispered
conversation as to how to escape. He did not want to raise any scene,
for this might lead to his arrest and defeat all his plans of getting
away. He determined to steal her out of the house quietly and get away.
He opened the door to see if there was any one in the hall, as there was
no chance to escape through a window from the room. He went out in the
hall and carefully locked the door behind him so as to make no noise. He
then went to a window at the far end of the hall; it was open. He went
back to the room and tied some bed covers and sheets together and they
went out again, locked the door as before, went to this window and tied
one end of the sheet and covers to a radiator and threw them out.
Estelle went down and he followed. In the alley where they landed it was
dark and they were soon out of sight of this building. He told her that
he was afraid to take her to the depot in the city, so they walked on in
the darkness till they came to the railroad. They took down this road
and walked till they reached the next station, some miles away, reaching
it just a few minutes before the southbound train came along. Here they
took the train for Cincinnati and for home. Who could tell of the joy
which Estelle now felt on being rescued from her prison house, from the
worst slavery ever known to the world? At Cincinnati William Scott and
Estelle took the train for Somerset and soon reached home. Great joys
oftentimes have great sorrows, and such awaited Estelle. William had
not told her about her mother on the trip home. He knew that she would
learn it soon enough. Mrs. Ramon's people thought, perhaps, if Estelle
could be found, that she might come to her right mind, but such was not
to be. Soon after the marriage of Estelle and William Scott Mrs. Ramon
died in an insane asylum.