16.
CHAPTER XVI.
IN NEBRASKA.—WHAT I DID WITH THE FIRST MONEY I GAVE TO THE LORD.—AT
CONEY ISLAND.—WHAT I SAID OF MR. MCKINLEY.—IN CALIFORNIA.
"CRIBS" AT LOS ANGELES.—ARREST IN SAN FRANCISCO.—CONDEMNED BY SOME
MINISTERS.—WHISKEY AND TOBACCO ADVERTISEMENTS,
I told my manager James E. Furlong, to give W. C. T. U. and
Prohibitionists the preference, and not to charge them as much. I tried
to get into churches, but only a few would open to me. I had many
inducements financially to go on the stage but I refused to do so for
sometime. Like a little child I have had to sit alone, creep and walk.
I paid my fines by monthly installments and in December, of 1902, I
settled with the court at Topeka for the "Malicious destruction of
property," when, in fact, it was the "Destruction of malicious
property."
In the spring of 1902, I went to Nebraska, under the management
of Mrs. M. A. S. Monegan. This woman had also made dates for J. G.
Woolley and other prominent prohibition lecturers. She was a thorough
prohibitionist and by conversing with her I for the first time found the
remedy for the licensed saloon. This is "National Prohibition".
I held a debate in Lincoln with Bixbee, of the Journal, a
rank republican, who used only ridicule and satire, for he had no
argument of course. I lectured for and with the "Red Ribbon Alliance"
there who were so faithfully working and praying for the abolition of
the saloon. The spring election in Lincoln was for prohibition but lost
by sixty votes. William Jennings Bryan lives there and if he, the man
who poses as a friend of the people, had opened his mouth against the
saloon he could have made this great cause more than the sixty votes.
From that time forth I knew Bryan was for Bryan and what Bryan could get
for Bryan.
I lectured at the parks and chautauquas in the summer and fairs in
the fall, and at the end of the year of 1902, I had the sum of five thousand
dollars which I used to build a mission on Central Ave., Kansas City,
Kansas. In that vicinity were several dives and I told those poor criminals
that we would soon run them out. I had my brother, Campbell
Moore, to manage the erection of this brick building. The liquor men
tried to buy the ground to hinder the work, but at last the building was
finished. I was offered seventy-five dollars rent for the hall but refused
it. Then I went to the Salvation Army barracks in Kansas City, Mo.,
and offered to give it to them free of rent if they would start a mission.
They did not see their way clear to accept it. My brother told me of a
property that would suit me better for the purpose of a "Home for Drunkards'
Wives and Mothers", which I was trying to arrive at through the
mission. I went to see this property, and found it to be about two acres,
with a twenty room brick house and a good brick stable on it, nice drives
and forest trees, and while it is in the city, it is on a high elevation and
as much retired from the dust and crowd as in the country. Mr. Simpson,
the owner, sent me ten dollars while I was in jail at Wichita, and he
was anxious to let me have this home of his that he had improved himself.
I purchased this with the money I got from the other place, paying
him five thousand five hundred dollars, owing the rest. This place
is situated on Reynolds and Grandview Aves. It was not possible for me
to begin this enterprise myself, and in speaking to Myron A. Waterman,
of the Savings Bank of Kansas City, Kansas, he suggested that the "Associated
Charities" of Kansas City, Kansas, would put it to the use I
intended. I liked the idea. The society became incorporated so they
could receive the deed, which was a trust, for should the property be
used for other than what it was given for, it will revert.
The society took possession in December, 1903, and at this writing,
February, 1904, it is full, the Home of many poor and destitute, who now
have a good shelter, warmth and light free. They are expected to make
their own living. Mr. Simpson gave forty dollars to furnish one room.
The local W. C. T. U. have furnished their room and have their two
drunkards' wives in it. I here make a plea of help to enlarge this Home.
As stated there are two acres of ground and one who would give money
to this would fulfill the command to feed the hungry and clothe the naked;
these are the orphans and the widows; every dollar will be put in the
bank of Heaven.
My motive for doing this was twofold. I wanted to furnish a home
for these, the innocent results of the saloon, whose sad condition is beyond
words to describe. The people burden themselves with taxes to build
jails, penitentiaries, alms houses, insane ayslums, and reformatories to
care for the guilty results of the saloon. They pay millions to prosecute
these criminals, the result of the saloon, but no one has ever thought
of a building, or shelter for these women who are worse than widows,
who are free from any fault in this matter, but are the greatest sufferers.
I have been asked by my friends not to call it a "Home for
Drunkards' Wives and Mothers", for it would be a reflection on the
inmates. Not at all. The condemnation is on the party which makes
a demand for such a home, by voting for saloons. The question, Why?
will arise in the minds of all who see on the arch over the entrance to
this place, "Home for Drunkards' Wives and Mothers". Why? "Because
of the saloon. Let us smash the saloon and not these women's homes
and hearts." Miss Edith Short is the secretary and is at the home all
the time, and she is the right woman in the right place.
There are many persons who would like to donate to such a place.
We are waiting for funds to enlarge the place, making rooms or flats
for these dear ones. A letter directed to "Drunkards' Wives Home",
Kansas City, Kansas, will reach the place, for there is no other of the
kind in the world. It was such a relief to me when I saw that what
means I could control was used in a manner God would bless, and it was
a great source of joy to me to do something for this class. I have been
a drunkard's wife myself and I know the desolation of heart they have.
This is a worse sorrow than to have one's husband die. A wife always
feels that she might have done something to cause her husband to drink
or to quit. I believe that some men have been led to drink by women,
but it is a cowardly resort, or excuse, and the man who would make this
as an excuse is as bad as the woman that caused him to drink, if not
worse. The thief, the murderer, or any other class of criminals could
just as well blame others for their own wrong doings.
When I was at Coney Island, I was asked, what I thought of William
McKinley's administration? I said: "I was glad when McKinley
was elected for I had heard that he was opposed to the liquor traffic.
I did not know then that he rented his wife's property in Canton, Ohio,
for saloon purposes, and after his election he had been a constant
disappointment to me; that he was the Brewers' president and did their
biddings; that we as W. C. T. U. workers, sent petitions, thousands of them
to Mr. McKinley to have him refuse to let the canteen run. That we
were willing to give our boys to fight the battles of this nation, to die
in a foreign land, but we were not willing that a murderer should follow
them from their home shores to kill their bodies and souls." This
was said at the time that he was thought to be convalescent from his
death-wound. I said: "I had no tears for McKinley, neither have I any
for his assassin. That no one's life was safe with such a murderer at
large." This roused hisses; some left the hall and there was a murmer
of confusion. One man threw a wad of paper at me, but I said: "My
loyalty to the homes of America demand that I denounce such a president
and his crowd." It was a common thing to be hissed. Once I
spoke in Sioux City, Iowa, in the church where the martyred Haddock
preached. The crowd was so large, the church was filled and emptied
three times. I had cheers and hisses at the same time. At the first
meeting I was talking at the top of my voice, the audience was clapping
and hissing and a good evangelistic brother by my side kept pounding
his fist of one hand into the palm of the other and shouting: "She is
right! She is right!" That was a great meeting, and I shall never forget
it, neither will anyone who was there. I spoke three times to audiences
that night. I have been hissed, and after giving the people time
to think, have been applauded by the same parties. "Oh, fools and slow
of heart to understand," Jesus said.
Murat Halstead, who wrote the book called, "Our Martyred President
or the Illustrious Life of William McKinley", wrote some positive
falsehoods concerning me. This Halstead has always been a defender
of anarchy or the licensed saloon.
William McKinley was no martyr. He was murdered by a man who
was the result of a saloon and could not tell why he murdered the President.
I could tell of many amusing incidents, indeed. I could fill a book
of interesting anecdotes. Once when I was among the Thousand Islands
of the St. Lawrence, in the summer of 1902, a characteristic woman with
a very low dress, with a very long train, the whole a mixture of paint,
powder, lace, flashy jewelry and corset stays, with as much exposure
of person as she dare, came to me in an affected manner, handed me a
roll saying: "I am a temperance lecturer, here is one of my bills." I
replied: "If you are such, you had better make a practical application
of temperance and cover up yourself." The change of her countenance
was instantaneous and she with a queer almost startled look said: "You
go to He—l."
Once in Elmira, N. Y. the streets were so crowded that we had to
leave the Salvation Army Hall. I climbed in a farmer's two horse wagon.
He came out of a saloon and gathered up the reins and laid the whip
to his horses, which were caught so as to let me out.
Mr. Furlong, my manager, had a keen sense of the ridiculous and
would let me alone when I started out. He said he knew I could take
care of myself. Often when I would rise to speak to the thousands in
the parks, there would be yells and groans, and a manager at Youngstown,
Ohio, said to Mr. Furlong: "She will not get a chance to speak."
Mr. Furlong said: "You watch how she will handle them." I would
always quiet them for at least a time. Once they were determined not
to let me talk. I at last went to one side of the stage and began talking
very explanatory to some parties in front. The rest wanted to hear,
so they were quiet. Then I gave them the hot-shots of truth. I always
invited interruptions by questions. I had no set speech and these questions
would bring out what the crowd wanted to hear. I like especially
the questions from those who oppose me. I have bad men to shake their
fists at me saying: "You are an anarchist and ought to be in the lunatic
asylum." One agent of a brewer in Hartford, Conn., kept on disturbing
the meeting; at last he said: "Why did Christ make wine?" I said:
"the wine that He made did not rot. His was the unfermented juice of
the grape. God made healthy fruit and grain. The devil rots them and
makes alcohol, which rots the brain, rots the body and rots the soul, and
that is what is the matter with you."
When I first began my lectures I was not taken seriously by the
people. They did not see the great principle back of the work. My
manager said: "We must make all the dates this year, for next year
it will not be so easy." I said: "You will find it easier, for I will be
more popular." He shook his head, but sure enough it was easier. We
could not fill the dates, and now the calls are more and more all over
the country.
In the winter and spring of 1903, I was in California. I was employed
by the theatrical manager of the "Chutes." Beer was sold at this resort.
Some W. C. T. U. were very much horrified that I would go to such a
place. Mrs. Hester T. Griffith, the president of the Federation of Unions
in Los Angeles, came to see me. She had been a staunch friend of mine
from the first and she went with me to the "Chutes" and introduced me.
This she did time and again saying: "If she had the opportunity to
speak at the "Chutes" she would do as Carry Nation does." This woman
was a blessing to me. She helped me to see that the stage was a mission
field. I was severely criticised by the newspapers, and especially by some
of the ministers. One from Rockford, Ill., a Rev. Dr. Van Horn wrote
a very slanderous article which I heard of through my friends there.
I was arrested in Los Angeles for some advertising my manager did
which was contrary to a city ordinance.
In Los Angeles I saw what was called the "Cribs", one of the most
disgraceful conditions. No one stayed there during the day; they were
there just for the night only. These poor degraded girls would pay two
dollars a night to the owners. I said to the women: "These city officials
are at the bottom of this. Let us go to the Chief of Police," whose
name was Elton. He would not talk to me at first. He said: "If we
close these places, these degraded girls will be over the town, when in
fact the girls only stayed there at night. I have seen so much of the
corruption of the officials that when conditions are bad in any place I
know it to be their fault.
We went as a band of missionaries to these dens of vice. At first
an officer would go before us and have the girls pull their blinds down
to prevent us from seeing or speaking to them. We found hundreds
of them who could not speak the English language, they had been brought
over by procurers for the purpose of swelling the ranks of this vice.
Mrs. Charlton Edholm who wrote "Traffic in Girls", was there helping
to rid the city of this disgrace. Her book should be in the hands of every
girl in the world. This grand woman has devoted her life work to the
rescue of girls. She is in Oakland, California, where she has a "Rescue
Home". Any one can get the book by writing her. I also met Mrs.
Sobieski, wife of Col. John Sobieski. Sister Sobieski is one who never
tires in the work for God. She is a terror to evil doers. God bless these
women for their zeal. I found some of the most aggressive christian
W. C. T. U. women I have ever seen in Los Angeles, California. I am
glad to say that in less than a year from the time I was there the "Cribs"
were closed.
I was arrested in San Francisco and spent most of the night in jail,
was put in for destroying a bottle of whiskey on this wise: A certain
saloon-keeper had just finished a very fine "criminal factory" and he
wanted to advertise it. He sent me word by my manager to call and
smash this place up. He had a fine mirror he paid one hundred and fifty
dollars for that he wanted me to smash. I knew that all he wanted was
an advertisement, but I went, not saying what I would do. He had
reporters and the house was crowded. I got up on a table to make a
speech, which, I did in this fashion: "This man has opened a place to
drug and rob poor victims. There are no clothes, no food, no books here,
nothing but what degrades men and women. Some one handed me a
large empty bottle. I said: "No I want a bottle that has some of that
fiery poison in it." I was given a quart bottle of whiskey. I held it up
and said: "None but God knows the sorrows in this bottle, the headaches,
the heartaches, the desolation, but there is no blessing or happiness
connected with it. I will do with this what ought to be done with all
its kind." So I threw it as quickly as I could behind the bar on the floor.
It fell in with some others and made a great smash. I said: "The man
wished me to make a hole in that large mirror so that curiosity would
draw others into this snare to catch our boys." I gave the best rebuke
for the occasion I could, then I went to my hotel, retired, and about
twelve o'clock an officer came to my door. I dressed and went with him
to the station. I stayed there until nearly three in the morning. While
there I saw one continual stream of poor, drunken wretches, men and
women, brought in. My manager came and took me out on bail. Next morning
I appeared in court, was my own lawyer. The case was put off two
days, then I was discharged. The saloon keeper withdrew the charge.
This was done, to advertise this man but the way that I advertise has
never done the whiskey business any good.
There is a great art in advertising. Jacob was the first one I
read of in the Bible who was aware of this art and science, when he
placed the rods before the cattle. The eye is the window by which the
inner man, who does not think, is mostly taught. There is no business in
America so much advertised as the whiskey and tobacco business. Both are
destructive in their influence on the morals and the health of the
people. We would be better off without these articles. The interest of
these manufactories are built up in proportion as they can catch the
unwary who see these signs that are suggestive. One of the most
notorious signs is "Wilson's Whiskey That's All". Yes that is all it takes to ruin your homes. That is all it takes to break a mother's heart. That is
all that is needed to build houses of
prostitution and that is all that it
requires to break up every impulse of justice and love and happiness.
That is all that it takes to fill hell. How
my heart is stirred when I see this: "Remember me, Oh, my God!"
Whiskey or tobacco never introduce their products by reason or
arguments, they never appeal to thought, but suggestion or temptation,
and as oft as the eye is lifted, as one walks up the streets of our cities
there are hundreds of advertisements to meet the gaze; most every one
has a false basis. For instance there is a sign: "Old Crow Whiskey."
This is slandering the crow, for there is not a crow or vulture that will
use a drop of this slop. There is: "Chew Bull-dog Twist," and "Bull
Durham Tobacco." There is not a dog or bull that uses tobacco. There
is the, "Royal Bengal Tiger Cigarettes." This is taking advantage of these
animals because they can not defend themselves. There is the: "Robert
Burns and Tom Moore cigars." There was not a cigar in England when
Burns or Tom Moore lived. I have seen a life-size picture of Abraham
Lincoln advertising cigars, when Lincoln was a teetotaler from cigars or
any intoxicating drink. He promised his mother that he would never
use them and kept his promise to his death. This is slandering the dead.
I never remember seeing the "Grant Cigar". He died with tobacco cancer.
It is said that Mr. McKinley would have recovered but his blood
was bad from nicotine.