OLD-TIME PERSECUTIONS

Arrested Three Times in Lakeland, Fla., for Preaching on the Street -- The Lousy Old Jail -- The Inner Cell -- The False Trial -- The Final Deliverance

No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord. -- Isa. 54:17.

     The beautiful city of Lakeland, Fla., well deserves the significant name, for it is surrounded by nine little bodies of sparkling water on the banks of which are luxuriant orange groves, whose golden fruit forms a pleasing contrast with the long rows of olive green foliage extending down to the water's edge.

     In the midst of this little city are to be found some of the nicest of people and some of the best schools of the South. No saloons mar the beauty of its streets or the peace of its homes, for Lakeland is a cultured town, and, in many respects, a moral one.

     It was at this place that we opened up meetings in the old opera house in the year 1911, holding services in the hall and sometimes on the street. People were kind to us and seemed to appreciate our labors, and when in the spring we started North we were met at the depot by a number of our friends, and laden with luscious Florida fruit.

     In the fall we returned, commencing operations in a large tent. Bishop Sellew and wife ably assisted in the meetings that winter, preaching with us on the streets at night and sometimes on Saturday afternoons.

     During the winter we had held a public debate on the street with a Mormon elder, and so signally won the victory that he left on the midnight train. The daily paper came out the next day, lauding us for our services to the city, and complimenting us in general. But this popularity did not last long.

     It was at this juncture that we were to be tested. How should it come? By sickness and death? By mobs, such as John Wesley had? Was it to hear the creaking of prison doors, with Bunyan and Madame Guyon? Let us see!

     After a street meeting the chief of police informed us that if we wished to hold any more such services it would be necessary to obtain a permit, and he added, "I doubt if you will be able to get one."

     Accordingly, I went several times to the mayor (who was a Baptist deacon) to try to obtain one, but he put me off evasively; then I tried again, praying with him in his office. He said he would let us know later, but did not.

     I told him we were now ready to hold our meeting, and would like to have his permission, but he said he was not prepared to grant it. I asked him what he would do were the Salvation Army to come to town. He said he supposed he would have to grant them a permit.

     "Well, if you can give them one, why not give us one, since we are doing the same kind of work?"

     "Because you have a church in which to worship."

     "Very well, but the Salvation Army have a hall: We are not after nickels and dimes, but we want to lead men to Christ."

     "Well," he said, "I believe street meetings, if conducted properly, do a great deal of good, and if I had my way about it I would grant you a permit, but the ordinance is so drawn up that I cannot do it. I could grant you a 'license for $5.00 a day, the same as I grant to circuses and barbecues, but there is no provision made for issuing permits for preaching the Gospel on the streets."

     I replied, "I am very sorry then, for we will have to go without it."

The First Arrest

     Since our own efforts had been fruitless, also the solicitations of some of our friends, including business men, we felt very clear to go ahead, whereupon the chief appeared and ordered us to stop. Neither the street nor sidewalks were blocked, and a drummer spoke up protesting, saying that there was no call for it and that they were enjoying our meeting.

     He answered, "I have got to do it or lose my job." A number of voices rang out, "I'd lose my job then rather than arrest a preacher for preaching the Gospel." But he arrested me, and started for jail.

     I turned around and said, "Wife, you go ahead and finish the meeting."

     "No, she won't."

     "Yes, we are one and you are commissioned to stand by me."

     The courageous little woman stepped out and began speaking, and the crowd cheered.

     We had gone only a little way toward the jail when a business man intercepted us and offered bond for my appearance at court. Public opinion was running high in our favor, and men denounced the arrest as an "outrage and a disgrace to civilization."

     The next Monday morning we appeared for trial, and after a lot of palaver by the tobacco-soaked judge, I was fined $5.00 and costs; but the fine was "suspended" on "good behavior" that I preach no more!

     The judge himself, along with the attorney and the editor of the daily paper, who was a Catholic, declared that they doubted whether such an ordinance was constitutional and thought it should and would be repealed; but until then it should be respected.

     Moreover, they said they were satisfied that if I shod appear before the city council, provision would be made for resident pastors to bold street meetings: that the ordinance was drawn up particularly for "wild-eyed, tramp preachers," and not for honorable men.

     I thanked them kindly, and answered that if the ordinance was drawn up for a certain class, it should be applied to them and not to me. I did not belong to that crowd, but to a church that, from the bishop down, believed in open-air preaching, like the early Methodists.

The Second Arrest

     In the interim of our first arrest and the next council meeting, three weeks hence, public sentiment ran high, and the good citizens felt ashamed of the manner in which we had been treated. Strange to say, not one of the pastors of the city ever peeped in our favor; they must first "feel the pulse of the people," for this is the way to look after their butter and bread.

     The Methodist pastor said that whichever position he took he would offend some of his members. I replied, "He should have the courage to take his stand for the right, regardless of consequences."

     In order to show that we were law abiding, we now declined to hold any more street meetings, though urged to do so.

     A Roman Catholic came to our home and earnestly requested us to hold another meeting. "For," said he, "I want the satisfaction of knocking the policeman down when he comes to arrest you, for I am from South Carolina" (the mob state). I answered that we could not afford to hold a meeting in order to give him such satisfaction.

     At last the time arrived for the city council to meet. The mayor was not present, so by virtue of his office the president of the city council (a Unitarian), became mayor pro tem, and presided. He treated me with contempt, though he knew me to be a minister of the gospel. After they disposed of much of their other business, calling to me he said:

     "Have you anything to say to this body?"

     Whereupon I arose and, bowing to the chairman, said, "Gentlemen, I heartily approve of an ordinance regulating preaching on your streets, but I have appeared before your honorable body to request that you so modify this ordinance that it will not exclude resident pastors who are preaching a good gospel."

     The chairman retorted, "So you want us to make a special provision for you, do you?"

     I replied, "I have asked nothing of the kind. What I request for myself I request for all evangelical ministers of your town."

     Leaning back, he said, "It is the opinion of the chair that this ordinance remain just as it is." With but little said, the motion was put, and the preacher ruled out.

     It is needless to say that I walked away with less exuberance than when I came. Now our last hope was gone, and we must either submit to this unjust and unconstitutional legislation, or go ahead and act as though it did not exist.

     Having resorted to prayer, and having conferred with a number of our friends, also some business men, we felt clear to hold another meeting.

     The noble little band had sung a couple of songs and I had taken my text when the chief appeared for duty and, without any preliminaries, arrested me the second time.

     A number of business men were ready to go my bond, but the answer was, "I have orders to lock him up." Accordingly, he started with me for the old, lousy jail, above which was the city hall. While on the way, bond was offered for from $100 to $500; then to $1,000; then to $1,500; but all was refused as though I had been guilty of murder or treason.

     I had been locked up but a short time when the door opened and in came one of our preachers who had continued the meeting after I had been arrested.

     The town was stirred and a number of business men, headed by a Presbyterian elder, signed a protest and demanded our release. The feeling ran high and the jail was threatened to be torn down. The officials saw that the only thing to do was to turn us loose, to appear at court Monday morning. We warned the people not to hold any malice toward the officials, but to repent and flee from the wrath to come.

The Second Trial

     The next Monday morning, the yard, court room, and stairway leading to it were all crowded. We had to press our way through the crowd and were given seats near the judge. When my case was called and the charges were read, the judge asked me if I pleaded guilty.

     I replied, "Yes and no. I answer in the affirmative, concerning the preaching on the street, but in the negative as to being guilty of any misdemeanor."

     "Then," the judge continued, "I am not here to pass upon the justice or legality of this ordinance, but since it has become a law it becomes my duty to defend the law. Hence I must fine you, and it being the second offense, I must impose upon you the limit of the law, which will be $20.00 and costs; also, the former suspended fine must be added to this."

     I waited a moment, then arose and addressed the judge as follows

     "Your honor: If I have been guilty of doing anything to mar the peace or dignity of your city, if I have been drinking or quarreling, or using bad language, I ask you to send me up. But for preaching the gospel -- for trying to lead men to forsake sin and become better citizens -- for this, I feel I have done no wrong; and to pay a fine would be equivalent to an acknowledgment of guilt: therefore, I cannot conscientiously pay such a fine, nor will I allow any one else to pay it for me."

     When I sat down there was deep silence and men were weeping. Finally, the pause was broken when a business man proposed to appeal the case to a higher court and pay all the expenses. The judge jumped at this opportunity to escape censure and responsibility, saying'. "Thank you: thank you, Mr. Smith. I am glad somebody wants to see this tested in a higher court." This looked like Pilate of old, trying to wash his hands.

     I replied, "Thank you, Mr. Smith, for your courtesy, but when my trial is called again I may be up North or out West in a revival meeting, and I could not afford to stop and come down here then. Therefore, I prefer to have it settled here and now."

     After some parleying on the part of the lawyers, my request was granted, and thus the "pestilent fellow" was again on the hands of the judge for disposal.

     There was such strong feeling that the judge did not dare remand me then and there to jail or the chain gang.

     The next day, while I was down town the chief said "Well, what about paying your fine?"

     I replied, "I cannot pay a fine for preaching the gospel."

     "Well." said he, 'the only thing to do then is to go to jail." "Very well; here I am," and he locked me up.

     As soon as we entered our new "thirty days' " home, we began to prepare for the worst. In one corner of our apartment, which was 12x14 feet, stood an old sanitary bucket which had no cover, and had not been emptied for some time. Through the bars, in the colored department, stood another, and the odor was so "sickening that I gagged when I tried to eat a lunch. There were two little windows, 2x4 feet in size, nine feet above the cement floor, through which we were to receive our sunlight and a little fresh air With considerable effort we could climb the wall and crouch in the window facing the street. While sitting here I announced to the passers-by and those who were standing" in groups outside that there would be preaching from that pulpit at 7 p, m.

     When the hour arrived, a good crowd had gathered. After singing we announced that we had preached on the streets of Brooklyn, Pittsburgh and other large cities in this and foreign countries, and were protected by the officers, but we had to come to Lakeland to be locked up in a filthy old jail.

     My little wife, who was sitting in the buggy outside, was ordered by the chief to move away. The citizens protested, saying he could not drive her off the street. Finally, he led her away, only to have her turn around, come back and show her fidelity as a true wife should.

     At the close of the service, the chief entered and said, "The next time you preach from the window I have orders to lock you in the inner cell; more than this, you must work the streets tomorrow."

     At this I mounted the window and said, "Good-night, wife; please send down my old clothes early in the morning, for the order is that I must work the streets tomorrow."

     One man spoke out from the crowd, "No, you will not. I will work in your place."

     I replied, "We must work or live on bread and water."

     Another voice said, "No; you will not; we will see that you get something to eat."

     Again I answered, "Do you see the signs recently posted, saying no one is allowed to hand us fruit or speak to the prisoners?"

     Another voice called out, "Tell us the moment you want out, and the door will come down."

     I replied, "Don't resort to violence, men, for we will not come out unless the officer takes us out."

     At this, one influential man raised his fist and said, "Every man who is a man, let me see your fist." A score or more arms went up. The order was, "Swing into line and follow me." They marched two by two to the mayor's home and awoke him, saying, "We have just come to tell you to come down and let that preacher out of jail, and if you do not know how to unlock it, we will show you how it is done."

     It is needless to say that he did so, and we were released.

     When we stepped out we said, "Well, it is nice to breathe free air again; suppose we sing, 'Praise God from whom all blessings flow.'

     This was the first time we ever heard a crowd of men who were fighting-mad sing the doxology, but they were ready to do anything we suggested. It sounded so well the first time that we repeated it.

The Third Arrest

     The fight was now on in earnest.

     The Catholic editor joined hands with the Unitarian "city boss," in creating sentiment against us. The majority of business men were for us in spirit but, being without grace, like the Jews of old, were afraid to openly espouse our cause. There were only a few who dared to do so, and as a result were boycotted, and suffered loss in business.

     About this time a couple of new brethren came to the city, and as it was Thanksgiving Day they thought every person would feel more or less religious, and there would be no objection to their going out on the street and at least singing a song or two. But the police did not feel overly religious, so marched them off to jail. The fact that they were strangers in town and did not have much prestige left them without the sympathy of the people at large. Knowing something of the filthiness of the old jail, I went and bailed them out until their trial should be called. This, of course, identified me with them and made it appear that it was a "put-up game to defy the laws of the city." The judge was "sick"(?) and could not preside, hence the president of the city council was pleased to take his place. Each of the prisoners was promptly fined and given the full extent of the law -- $2000 and costs. As they did not feel clear to pay, they were summoned to jail for thirty days.

     We were now convinced that it was useless to try to hold any more meetings under these conditions, for we no sooner got started than we were arrested. Now I felt clear to take out a license (for which I paid $5.00 per day) and thus keep within the bounds of the city ordinance.

     Anyone can readily see that such an ordinance was drawn up purposely to keep the gospel off the streets, as the originators did not suppose that "street preachers" were able or willing to pay such a sum. Accordingly, when we began singing, the people came running to see the preacher arrested. We soon allayed their fears by showing a little slip of paper and saying,

     "Friends, do not get excited; some of you have come to see me arrested, but you will not see it today, for this little paper protects us. In Lakeland you can do almost anything; climb a telegraph pole, sing lewd songs, and cheat the people out of their money, if you can only dig up $5.00. This little paper cost me $5.00 and it is good for but one day. Preachers generally expect money to be coming their way, but this time it is going the other way." We continued:

     "In this city you can do dray work and it will cost you but $5.00 a year; or if you wish to run a grocery store and pile barrels, boxes and hen coops on the sidewalk, throw decayed vegetables out where people have to walk -you can do all this and more, too, for $15.00 a year; but understand, friends, if a man wants to preach the gospel and thereby lead drunkards and sinners to Christ, he cannot have this privilege without paying $5.00 a day, or, in other words, $1,825.00 per year. Now, if this is not legislating against a certain class, yea, against the gospel of Jesus Christ, then tell me, what under the sun do we call it!"

     By this time the crowd were so wrought up that they began throwing money at me until I had to tell them to stop; we had enough.

     We did this for three consecutive Saturdays, and were then refused even this privilege, though we shook $5.00 at the city clerk. One man sent us $100.00 saying. "This will give you twenty licks at them, and if they cut you off use it for living expenses."

     The city boss, who was the spokesman for the officials, finally came out and revealed the spirit that formulated the ordinance, when he said, "We do not want preaching on the streets of Lakeland. This is a moral town. If you want to do that kind of work, go down to Plant City or Tampa, where they have saloons."

     I replied, "Yes, but you see men staggering along these streets, just the same." Public sentiment prevailed and they were compelled to change the ordinance, the thing for which we had contended from the beginning.

     During this time the two brethren who were still in jail were one day singing and preaching from the window with telling effect. We drove down and listened to them.

     The order was given that if they preached from the window again they should be locked in the inner cell. When the hour arrived, wife and the writer were sitting in the carriage just outside the jail. Our brother was commenting on the thirty-seventh Psalm when the "chief" appeared and ordered him down. The preacher answered that he would come down as soon as he had finished his Psalm; whereupon the chief proceeded to take him by force but, being unable, deputized two strong men, and the three tore him from the window and locked both of the brethren in the inner cell.

     At this I spoke out and said, "I protest; this is a step backward toward the Dark Ages and Spanish Inquisition." The chief ordered me to "drive on" and when I declined to do so he came out and said, "I have orders to arrest you for criticizing."

     I jumped from the buggy and, lifting my hat and bowing to the people, said, "I have protested against this cruelty and now am being arrested myself for so doing." As soon as I was locked up, the police removed all the chairs so that I was compelled to either stand or sit on the cold cement floor. This was about 1 o'clock in the day and, looking ahead, I saw my trial would not come off until the next day, which meant for me to spend the night with a lot of drunks and lousy tramps. I therefore concluded that I would do better to be with the brethren in the inner cell, where we could at least sit, if not lie down, and I knew how I could easily get there.

     Accordingly, I climbed to the window and announced, "There will be preaching from this pulpit at 7 o'clock tonight." Of course we had a crowd, and I had not proceeded far when the chief arrived with two others; after some effort they succeeded in pulling me down and locked me up also in the inner cell.

     Now we began to sing:

      "Dare to be a Daniel,

      Dare to stand alone;

     Dare to have a purpose firm,

     Dare to make it known."

     The crowd outside joined heartily in the chorus, while the police tried to suppress them. When he could not do so the door opened and in came a young man only seventeen, who had been blessedly saved in our meeting. He had been inside but a few moments when he mounted the window and, as a result, landed in the inner cell.

     The singing continued:

      "Many mighty men are lost

     Daring not to stand,

     Who for God had been a host

     By joining Daniel's hand."

     And when the chorus was reached, those on the outside joined in again, when the door once more opened -- this time Mrs. Beeson, my wife's sister, came in. Now things were getting very interesting, and men began to get their revolvers ready. The mayor came and urged the crowd to disperse; but they refused to do so until the lady was liberated. In a short time she was released and the rest of us spent the night in the inner cell, which was about four by six feet.

     That was a memorable night. We sang and shouted and sang again. Nevertheless, the doors did not fly open, as in the case of Paul and Silas.

     Many people pitied us, but had they known the peculiar glory that flooded that old cell they would have saved their pity. When the glory subsided a little we tried to sleep, but the two bunks (one above the other) being so narrow, we had to lie spoon fashion, head to foot. Notwithstanding this, we might have rested some had it not been for the fact that we were frequently awakened by the hardness of the bed, or the loud snoring or vomiting of the drunks, just through the bars. At these intervals we improved the time by singing.

     One of the drunkards, rising on his elbow, said, "What are you in here for? You ought not to be in here." Some one said to him, "You are in here for getting drunk and they are in here for telling you not to get drunk." And still another said, "Queer laws we are living under here. Lakeland is up-to-date. It is noted as a city where they built a church in one day, and where they lock up ministers for preaching on the street."

     On one occasion the chief came in and said to me, "Why do you make us all this trouble? Other preachers in town do not do so."

     I replied, "If they were obeying the command of their Lord and following the example of their respective founders, they would all be going out into the highways and hedges preaching to those who were too poor or did not have the disposition to go to church."

     Some of the brightest converts we have ever had have dated their salvation to street meetings. John Wesley, Whitefield and their coadjutors held open-air services, sometimes preaching to as high as sixty thousand at a time.

The Third Trial

my third trial -- this time not for preaching the gospel but for "inciting a riot." Anyone can see the fallacy of this charge, since I was not responsible for what men did or threatened to do outside the jail while I was in the inner cell.

     At the city court I was informed by the judge that he could not try me, as mine was now a State case, hence I was turned over to the deputy sheriff who took me to "Pilate" (Judge T). Of course, many said that this dear old friendly judge would not sustain the charge against me, and would throw it out of court; but when it came to the trial he could not withstand the officials, for they must all cling together, regardless of justice; how else could they get their bread and butter?

     Though we had a competent lawyer who had been judge of the county for eight years, and the city had a young upstart of a lawyer who was not near the equal of our attorney, yet at the close of this preliminary trial the judge looked wise and in a very deliberate manner said, "I find enough evidence against the defendant to bind him over to the circuit court." At this the young lawyer jumped to his feet and said, "Now, judge, we are tired of straw bonds and hope you will demand a bond that is a bond sure enough; for we are tired of this man, Shelhamer."

     He was in hopes that the judge would fix a bond so high that I could not meet it, and consequently let me lie in jail for two months, awaiting my trial. A prominent business man requested the privilege of going on as bondsman, after which he took the paper to others and finally presented it to me with over $300,000.00 pledged. There were so many names that they had to attach an extra sheet.

     When I took it to the judge he did not look up, so I said, "Good morning, judge. They wanted a bond that was a bond sure enough. I guess I have one. There are over $300,000.00 pledged here, and if you want more I can easily get it. I trust this will hold the prisoner all right." There was no answer and I said, "Good-day, sir."

     When my time came for the final trial at Barstow, the county seat, I was there on time, but the attorney for the state informed me that he had not filed a bill of information against me. He said that it was nothing but a piece of persecution, and he did not purpose trying such cases.

     When I returned to Lakeland my friends were overjoyed at my liberation, while our enemies were chagrined.

     About this time letters began to pour in to the mayor, from the governor of the state, from our friends from Maine to California, and from Canada to the Gulf, all condemning the action of the city officials in this outrage to civilization. The mayor said he was almost afraid to open his mail, lest his eye fall upon the maledictions that were constantly pouring in. The chief said that he had lost more sleep over it than over any other thing that had come his way. Poor fellow! He said he had to do it or he would lose his "job," and in the next city election he lost it by a large majority, after which he took sick and was bedfast. This gave me an opportunity to show him kindness by visiting and praying with him. Others also came in for their share of retribution in the way of sudden deaths and disgraces. The mayor and the president of the city council, along with others who opposed us, dropped down and out. They did not know it would cost so much to relegate the gospel from their streets.

     We were urged to sue the city for $10,000.00, but declined. As it was, it cost the city dearly. We heard a real estate man say that it cost the city $50,000.00 and a bad reputation besides. He was at the depot one day when the train from the north pulled in. A man looked out of the window and asked, "What place is this?" As soon as he saw "LAKELAND," he said, "Drive on this is where they lock up preachers for preaching on the streets."

     Not only the religious, but the daily papers of the North took it up and vindicated our cause. The following summer, while laboring in camp meetings in various states, we had so many friends and sympathizers because of this that I sat down one day and wrote a business man of Lakeland as follows: "Please thank Mr. M. (city boss) and all his associates for the great favor shown us in giving us so much free advertising. I did not know we had so many friends until now."

     In closing, I feel like saying with Paul:

     "But I would ye should understand, brethren, that the things which happened unto me have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel."

     "And many of the brethren in the Lord, waxing confident by my bonds, are much more bold to speak the word without fear." -- Phil. 1:12, 14.

      Boldness In The Gospel

 

      Shall I for fear of feeble man

     The Spirit's Course in me restrain?

     Or undismayed in deed and word,

     Be a true witness of my Lord?

 

      Awed by a mortal's frown shall I

     Conceal the word of God Most High?

     How then before Thee shall I dare

     To stand, or how Thine anger bear?

 

      Shall I, to soothe the unholy throng,

     Soften Thy truth, or smooth my tongue,

     To gain earth's gilded toys, or flee

     The cross endured, my Lord, by Thee?

 

      What then is he whose scorn I dread?

     Whose wrath or hate makes me afraid ?

     A man! an heir of death! a slave

     To sin! A bubble on the wave!

 

      Yea, let men rage, since Thou wilt spread

     Thy shadowing wings around my head,

     Since in all pain Thy fender love

     Will still my sure refreshment prove.

 

                                                          J. J. Winkler