The Use and Need of the Life of Carry A. Nation
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