University of Virginia Library

5. CHAPTER V.
THE BAPTISM OF THE HOLY GHOST.—REJECTED AS A BIBLE TEACHER IN METHODIST AND EPISCOPALIAN CHURCHES.—TAUGHT IN HOTEL DINING-ROOM.—VISION, WARNING AND BLESSING.—ENTERTAINING ANGELS.—THE JEWS.—PRAYER FOR RAIN AND ANSWER.—GOD'S JUDGEMENTS ON THE WICKED.—MOVED TO KANSAS.—DEATH OF MOTHER GLOYD.—SERMON OF A CATHOLIC PRIEST.

In this chapter I will tell of God's leading. I say of my life, "This is the Lord's doings and marvelous in our eyes." A Methodist conference was held in Richmond, Texas, about the year 1884. I attended. The minister read the sixty-second chapter of Isaiah. From the time he began reading I was marvelously affected. Paul said it was not "lawful" or possible to utter some things. There was a halo around the minister. I was wrapt in ecstacy. My first impression was that an angel was talking and that the house was ascending to heaven. I felt my natural heart expanding to an enormous size. I looked to see what impression was made on the people in the audience. I saw one man nodding. I was surprised, for no one seemed at all astonished or delighted.

At the close of the meeting I tried to find out the meaning. No one felt as I did. I went to a saintly woman, Mrs. Ruth Todd, and asked her

about the sermon. She had felt nothing remarkable. I had never been taught that anyone but the Apostles in Jesus' time got the gift of the Holy Ghost, or I would have understood this wonderful state. I then and there openly consecrated myself to God, telling my friends that "from henceforth all my time, means and efforts should be given to God." (Mr. Nation in his petition for divorce said that up to this year I had been a good wife.) I was often considered crazy, on the subject of religion. When I spoke to people I would ask them, "if they loved God;" I could not refrain from this; the servant in the kitchen, the guest, the merchant, the market man; I felt impelled by divine love for the souls of men.

God had given me an intense love for souls, and one was as precious as another to me. I now see what the enlarging of my heart meant. Once an old colored man brought in the kitchen some eggs to sell. I said: "Uncle, do you love God?" He turned to my cook Fannie and said: "Hear dat". Fannie said: "Oh! Mrs. Nation knows the Lord." Uncle said: "Thank God one white woman got ligen," clapped his hands and praised God. It used to be and is now the sweetest music to have anyone praise God. I am at church often, when I long to hear a loud shout of praise go up to the giver of every good and perfect gift. It is torture to attend the cold, dead service of most of the churches.

I was a teacher in the Methodist Sunday school and had given perfect satisfaction up to this time; but things changed. The minister said from the pulpit that the teachers should be Methodists, and spoke so pointedly that all knew he meant me. The superintendent at the Episcopal Sunday school asked me to teach in their Sunday school. (This was Judge Williams, the husband of Lola, Mr. Nation's daughter.) I did so, and things went smoothly for a while.

Father Denroach was the minister, and one morning he asked the school questions out of the catechism. My class could not answer. I arose and said: "Father Denroach, I do not teach my class the catechism, I use only God's word." "What objection do you find to the catechism?" he asked. I replied: "I cannot teach the Bible and catechism, for one contradicts the other. The gospel is to be believed and obeyed and a Christian is a follower of Christ. The catechism in the first lesson asks this question: What is your name? `Bob, Tom or John.' `When did you get that name?' `In my baptism, when I was made a Christian.' "Baptism never did make a Christian. Infants cannot be made Christians, they cannot follow Christ, cannot believe or obey the Gospel. Jesus said: `Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven! Now if I teach my class that the state of being a Christian is something they get without the exercise of their will, I contradict what I have been teaching." The dear old man walked up and down the aisle shaking his robes. I said: "A house divided against itself cannot stand." You must have an Episcopalian teacher to teach your doctrine." So I was shut out from teaching in the only two churches in Richmond.

I could not be satisfied. I tried to get the Methodist church for a Mission school in the afternoon, but failed. I got plank for seats and after

dinner on Lord's Day I had my hotel dining-room seated and gathered all the little ones I could. These were largely children who went to no Sunday-School. I got five Catholic children to attend. We had an attendance of from thirty to forty. We bought an organ, had our charts and maps. One poor saloon keeper named Frost came several times and always gave a dollar. He was killed in the fight between the Jaybirds and Peckerwoods in Richmond. This work was a blessing to my soul and I have seen happy results from that little school. I kept this up until I left there for Kansas. The last Sunday we all went to the graveyard to study our lesson. I wished by this to impress the little ones with the purpose of the Gospel.

I have had visions and dreams that I know were sent to me by my Heavenly Father to warn or comfort or instruct me. I notice my dreams, not all, but I can tell the significant ones, usually by the impression they make on me. The dream that comes to me just before waking up generally means something to me. To dream of snakes has always been a bad omen to me. When I first started out smashing, while in Wichita jail, I dreamed of two enormous snakes, one on one side of a road, the other on the other; one raised to strike me, the other made no move. I was impressed that the one that was the most venomous and in the attitude of striking me with its fangs was the Republican party, and this has been my deadly foe.

I will here relate a vision I had. One cold night in March, 1889, I heard a groan across the hall. It was about three o'clock in the morning. I found the sufferer to be an old gentleman who was having very severe cramps, so I went down to the kitchen to make a mustard plaster. The hotel was a number of frame buildings, one having twenty-one rooms, and about five or six cottages around the main building. We carried no insurance, and so many would say we had a "firetrap" there. We had a mortgage on the place, and I was kept in terror constantly for fear of fire, and would often spring out of bed at night in my sleep, expecting to see a fire.

I lit a candle, went down stairs through several dark halls. Then I went upstairs again and gave the old man the plaster; afterwards returned to the kitchen, thinking probably I left the candle burning. Things were all dark, but when I started up the stairs, there seemed to be a light shining behind me, which would come and go in flashes, as I ascended. I looked everywhere to see where it came from, but discovered it to be an, unnatural manifestation, for I could not see to step nor move by it. It followed me until I got to my room door. It did not alarm me. I felt the sweet, peaceful presence of God, I prayed to him and I could think of no reason for having this blessing from God, except that I had gotten up in the cold to relieve this suffering man. I stood by my bed for a short time praying to God, and thanking him for his goodness to me. I thought Mr. Nation was asleep, but he afterwards told me that he heard me whispering. I slept until late, and when I did go down to breakfast, Mr. Nation and Alex, my son-in-law, were at the table. I told them I had a warning last night, and if I had a Daniel or Joseph they could

interpret a vision I had. The peculiar vision of the light was repeated to them, but they paid very little attention to it; being very busy I thought no more of it that day.

Just about three o'clock the next morning, I was awakened by the cry of fire. Charlien screamed from the next room: "Mamma, the town is on fire." I ran out and the whole heavens seemed to be on fire. It had originated in a drugstore and was sweeping towards the hotel. I immediately ran upstairs and began to pray. I told God "There wasn't a dishonest dollar so, far as I knew in the house, and that He told me "to call on Him in a day of trouble," and said, "this is my day of trouble, and begged He would hear me. Many of the guests passed by, some of them with baggage in their hands and some still dressing. I prayed until I seemed to get an answer of security. One lady, Mrs. Moore, the wife of a physician, who had boarded with me a long time, had a very elegant set of furniture, and she called to me several times to take my things out of the hotel. She had two colored men moving her furniture I heard her say to several persons: "That woman has lost her mind." All the boarders had their trunks out and everyone was saying to me: "Why don't you try to save your furniture?" I would take hold of some things to take out, but it seemed something would intimate, "Let it be." I walked down the street and Mr. Blakely, one of the men who was killed in the Jaybird and Peckerwood battle in Richmond said: "Are you insured?"

I said: "Yes, up there," pointing to Heaven.

All fear was gone, and now in the time of almost certain danger I was confident of deliverance, when before I had been nervous, in time when all was secure. At last the cry came in: "You are saved." I went in the hotel office, sat down by the stove and Alex, my son-in-law, was by me. I said to him: "Oh, Alex, my vision!" He looked almost paralyzed, for I had told him it was a warning and all the circumstances. From that day to this I have never had any fear of fire.

ENTERTAINING ANGELS UNAWARES.

One noon I was busy with the guests and waiting on the tables, and going to the kitchen I saw sitting on the wood-box a poor dejected looking creature, a man about twenty-four years of age. He asked me if I had any tinware to mend. I told him, "No, but you can have your dinner." He said. "I don't want any." He looked the picture of dispair. I said: "Don't go until I can speak to you."

When I had time I told him I wanted some one to wash dishes. He consented to stay, and I felt at that time I must care for that poor creature or he would die. He stayed with us three years and proved to be a jewel. All the rest of my help was colored, and generally speaking, white and colored help do not assimilate, but they all had profound respect for Smith. He soon owned his horse and did the draying for the hotel. Then he got to be a clerk, and bought pecans for the northern market. All his family had died from consumption, and he was traveling for his health. He left us for Pierce's Sanitarium, Buffalo, N. Y., and stayed there some

time for treatment. He ran a little booth by the Niagara Bridge, and soon accumulated quite a little sum. He became a Christian and married. I often got letters from him expressing so much gratitude. He was an infidel when he first came, and he said it was my influence that made him a Christian.

I often had the Orthodox Jews to stop with me. They ate nothing that contained lard; their food was mackerel, eggs, bread and coffee. The rates were two dollars a day, but I charged them only one dollar, and allowed them to pay their bills with something that was in their "pack." My other guests would often regard them with almost scorn, but when they were at their meals I would wait on them myself, showing them this preference, for I could not but respect their sacrifice for the sake of their religion. I have always treated the Jews with great respect. Our Savior was a Jew and said: "Salvation is of the Jews." They are a monument to the truth of the Scriptures, a people without a country; and though they are wanderers upon the face of the earth, they retain their characteristics more than any other people have ever done. If an Italian, German or Frenchman comes to America, in a hundred years he becomes thoroughly an American, losing the peculiarities of his descent. But wherever a Jew goes no matter how long be stays he remains a Jew. This can be said of no other people on earth.

I know by experience that the Jews are tricksters, but they have almost been forced into their cupidity in getting money, yet the greatest promise of deliverance in the Bible is for that nation. The foundation stones of heaven and the pearly gates are named for the twelve tribes. No Christian should scorn a Jew.

One day I was driving down the street of Richmond in a buggy, and Mr. Blakely the merchant I dealt so much with, and also a member of the Methodist church, stopped me, saying that he had something to say to me:

"Your friends are becoming very uneasy about the state of your mind. You are thinking too much on religious subjects, and they asked me to warn you." This gave me a blessed assurance, and I laughed very heartily, saying:

"Your words are indeed a blessing to me, for if I have a religion that the world understands, it is not a religion of the Bible."

I was naturally ambitious and was very fond of nice furniture, china and dainty things, but I have lost all taste for these, and stopped making fashionable calls, for I have seen the vanity and wickedness in fashionable society and costly dressing. I educated myself to look at things as I thought God would, and this change came about after that transaction between my soul and God, at the Methodist church, which I know was the "Baptism of the Holy Ghost;" but did not know then what it was. I had been born in the Christian church, and was taught that only the Apostles had received that gift. I never knew what to call this experience until three years after when I went to Kansas, and had it explained to me by the Free Methodists, and where God gave me a witness that it was true.

We had quite a drought in Texas, everything was parched and burning up, and great concern was felt by all. Charlien said to me one day: "Mamma why don't you pray for rain?"

I was so struck with the idea that I went to the church that night and proposed that we pray for rain. So four ladies were elected to appoint a special meeting. The minister's wife, Mrs. Todd, Mrs. Blakely and myself were the four. We met and we said the first thing is to agree. The minister's wife began to cry and said:

"I have read of so many thunderbolts lately, that I am almost afraid to pray;" and Mrs. Blakely repeated the same, but I told the women this was doubting God in the beginning.

" `If you ask for bread, will He give you a stone.' I am willing to trust God who said: `Ask and ye shall receive,' and let Him send the rain any way He pleases." This was finally agreed upon, and the next afternoon the citizens of the town were called to the church to pray for rain.

After the meeting, we were standing on the platform in front of the church, and a sprinkle of rain out of a cloudless sky fell on the platform, and on the shutters of the house. This was nothing but a miracle, and was very astonishing to us all. The next day the clouds began to gather in the sky, and the moisture began, at first, to fall like heavy dew. There was no lightning or thunder and the rain came down in the gentlest manner and continued in this way three days. With this marvelous manifestation in direct answer to prayer, many people said "we would have had the rain any way." Truly the ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib, but my people doth not know, my people doth not consider."

I began to think what I should do to fulfill my vow to God, for I vowed to return to Him something for rain, to show my gratitude that I had seen done. There was an old man, about seventy years old, entirely destitute, whose name was Bestwick. I went to see him, asked him to come to the hotel and make his home there. There was also a poor German girl, named Fredricka. I also gave her board at the hotel. These two stayed with me free of charge as long as I lived in Richmond.

There were two political factions in Richmond at this time, one called the "Jaybirds" and the other "Peckerwoods". The latter were people that were in favor of the negro holding offices. This party had control of the country for some time. The head of this party was Garvey, the sheriff. The head of the former was Henry Frost, a saloon-keeper, and to this belonged nearly all the young men of Richmond.

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."