Fighting the Traffic in Young Girls; Or, War on the White Slave Trade

by Unknown

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.