A Diary by Myself: the Remains of the Shattered Man

(These quotes are all that remain of the diary of Carrie Nation’s husband. They were found in Quotes from the Husbands of Famous Wives along with statements from Tony, the lover of Cleopatra; Henry VIII, the sometimes husband of Ann (with an e) Boleyn; a professor, the husband of Harriet Beecher Stowe; and other not-so-famous of renowned wives.)

…at woman will drive me to drinking. I have never had a taste for alcohol. Even my mother, when I was cutting my teeth on water and lemons, had praised me for my temperance. “Look, son,” she said to me before I could understand English, “them boys thar has got no lick of sense. They done spend thar pennies on bottles of liquid sin.” I remembered her words to this day. But my wife—she’s the very devil, I tell you. She asked me if she could go to Wichita to throw rocks at a saloon. My goodness! I don’t even let my sons throw rocks at the Catholics.

June 12. My sermon was on temperance today. I said--and I thought it really something else--“Saints and friends, don’t give in to the devil liquor. Be temperate. Resist with all your soul. Remember that we are sinners and our souls destroyed by sin. We can do nothing but sin. So resist the devil, whose name is Liquor.” Afterwards, Carrie came in hot as—not physically, of course--hot as a turtle shell on a Texas winter’s day. “Those Catholics,” she said--the Lord has blessed her with a mouth as wide as the Mississippi and twice as loud as Niagra Falls--she said, “Brother David!” And I said, “Yes, Sister Carrie.” “Brother David,” she continued, “Those Catholics spoke about temperance today too. Only they didn’t say, as you so elegantly--she meant, eloquently--stated, ‘Stray not near the bars and taverns, the fountains of sin and lust and fornication and debauchery and adultery and blasphemy and drunkenness.’ That priest said, ‘Follow the example of Lord our God when He changed the water into wine at the marriage of Cana. Drink, but drink with moderation; eat, but eat with moderation; sleep, but sleep with moderation. Do all things in moderation.’ By jingo, what does he mean by ‘moderation’?” She tossed some stones at the Catholics.

July 29. Today, I’m about to give up preaching. I simply see no point to it. Carrie doesn’t even listen to me. My pa used to say, “Son, ef yer wife don’t pay y’all no heed. Ain’t no use talkin’ ta y’all’s kin or frinds cuse sur as shootin’ no one else gonna.” (I think I used to talk too much as a child.)

December 1. It was a long summer. Between law suits and paying for damages, I think I am going broke. Hopefully the winter will cool her down. I had my palm read. The clairvoyant—sounds better than soothsayer, sounds too superstitious—said the spring looks brighter. It better be. All of this smashing is making Carrie really obnoxious.

December 2. Wife is out of control. Some say it’s my fault. I can’t see how, I’ve given her everything she’s wanted. Anyhow, she smashed all the milk bottles, glasses, pitchers, etc. Anything she can get her hatchet on is BAM! Smithereens. I really need to be more wary about what I give my wife for her birthday.

janubary 35. Can’t tell what day it is today. All’s I know is my head aches like a son of a gun. Drank all last night. First time. Alcohol, damn good. Sure silenced Carrie. She ain’t said a word all day.
Ma? Gave up on time and Gypsy was right. Spring sure looks brighter. Found three bottles on the floor this morning. Can’t believe I really drunk that much. Must have been out for—calendar’s off, so who knows. Carrie sued for—I signed. She said I could have waited for her to finish. Divorce begins tomorrow. I think I’ll have a drink on that…maybe another.

From the unfinished autobiography of Julius Caesar, Recasting the Die

Tour Day XIIth. Been on this election tour for XII days. Persnickety voters! It's not like the army days. Rough and relaxed, that's what they called me. Now, it's promising ridiculous things like change and progress. Who ever heard of a politician bringing about such things? Maybe Cleopatra. But it wasn't her politicing, I can promise you that. Back in the old days, I would trot up over any old bridge and a legion would follow. That would get things done. Perhaps it’s the weather. Heard Pompey is really hooting it up Egypt. He always had a way with women. Ah well, I guess my day will come soon.

Tour Day XIIIth. By Hercules, those Italians. If it isn’t some sentimental music about piazza’s and kissing, it’s pizza, wine, and hooligans. They can’t let a man walk through his own city in peace without making fools of themselves. Some old codger, obviously had one bottle too many, tottered up to me and said something ridiculous. It might have been Greek or even classical Latin. Something about the Hides of Mark.

Tour Day XIVth. Rained all day. Felt like I was back in Gaul. In fact, I felt like a school boy coming back from a playing hooky at the Coliseum. I jumped and clicked my heels and said, “weni, widi, wincki.” A page said history will never forget those words. The boy had a few too many. But I still don’t have a slogan. Perhaps, I will say, “Let me have fat men around me.”

Tour Day XVth. No one likes my slogan. There was blood in some of their eyes. In fact, I think they thought I was talking about Brutus. I said he wasn’t fat, only big boned. Cassius also took offense. He said I was supporting obscenity. I think he meant obesity. Cassius was never too bright. Won’t the joke be on him some day!

Tour Day XVIth. Quite a crowd at the senate building today. Many of the senators looked a little squeamish. Perhaps they’re afraid of blood. The priests were investigating some chicken guts. One particular priest, Flapius—he always is ready with a joke or two—was playing the foot making it open and close by pulling the tendons. HA! Got to love a good sport. Guts weren't too promising, soothsayer said.

Tour Day XVIIth. The people are such simpletons. They asked if I wanted to be king! What next? Emperor! Of course, they might be right. Well, I shan’t let it make me lose sleep.

Tour Day XVIIIth. Lost sleep. No mood to write. Blah!

Tour Day XIVth. Marc Anthony joined the mob in demanding my kingship. Turned him down. Cicero was up in arms with some sort of anti-monarchical speech. The reaction was the same. No one listened, except for Cicero. Brutus had a smirk today. First time I’ve seen him smile since I fell in the river. Cassius was telling a joke which ended with “Is this a dagger I see before me?” The man is a riot when he wants to be. But even then, not a smile crested his lips. Such a stoneface!

Tour Day XVIth. Tomorrow’s the ides of March. Weatherpriest says it’s gonna be a killer day. Perfect for a picnic. Maybe I’ll go to the senate. Surprise the lot of them. Then maybe I’ll go fishing with Flapius.