by S. Smith
Mr. Hayden was not going to sit idly by and let this happen without a fight. Samuel Hayden was a soldier in the Confederate Army, as were many of the folks in this story, including Big Brother Carroll. However, being on the same side in the Civil War did not carry over to local Baptist politics. Soon these men became bitter enemies of each other. Mr. Hayden was particularly noted as a very tenacious person. When he thought he was on the right side of an issue, he would not let it go, ever. I’m not sure if this was a Southern or a Confederate soldier trait or not. It did seem to be a common theme, however, with multiple people who fought in the war including Hayden, Judge Gerald, and Big Brother Carroll. I think the appropriate term is stubborn as mules.
Mr. Hayden fought back with the only weapons that he had at the time, which were scathing editorials in the Texas Baptist Herald and his delegation seat at the BGCT. Cranny would then respond in kind through editorials in the Baptist Standard. And so it was during the late 1890s that the famous Texas Baptist Newspaper war started. It was a bit like seeing a sea battle with ships lobbing cannon balls at each other. If one side lobbed a fireball towards the other, you could guarantee that the other editor would lob a volley in return in the next edition, just like clockwork. And during all of this, Mr. Brann gleefully gathered his own Baptist-focused cannon fodder for his eventual entry into the battle.
Mr. Hayden became quite vocal at the quarterly BGCT meetings. This started to become an issue for Big Brother Carroll as he was trying to push through certain agendas to further his strategies but Mr. Hayden seemed to be a roadblock for much of this.
Mr. Hayden, Doc Burleson, and others formed a coalition to work together to make proposals and push an agenda that Big Brother Carroll was generally opposed to. This partnership occurred about the time of Doc Burleson’s demotion to President Emeritus and may have been part of the impetus for it. As Hayden became more disruptive in the meetings, the Convention group took a vote to deny him a seat at the convention. This was unheard of, as the BGCT was to be made up of delegates from individual churches, not selected by the BGCT body. One of the noble cornerstones of the Baptist religion is that nothing supersedes the authority of the local church, except Christ. If Mr. Hayden’s church sent him to the convention as a delegate, how could the Convention body possibly deny him a seat, as that would supersede the Church’s authority?
And of course Hayden took this challenge on just like he took on all challenges in his life, fearlessly and like a bulldog with a bone. He took the Convention to court and sued both the Convention and many of the individual leaders for damages, with Cranny being the first name on the list.
This legal process took years and years to play out, but in the meantime the newspaper battle continued and escalated. For newspapers that were supposed to be promoting God’s religion, Cranny and Hayden fought like street dogs, sinking lower and lower into the pit of brazen nastiness.
Between the Antonia affair and the Baptist News-paper war, Mr. Brann was not for want of material for the Iconoclast. And he was indeed an equal opportunity iconoclast as he would spew equal amounts of vitriol towards Baylor and Doc Burleson. He also gave an equal dose to Cranny and Big Brother Carroll over their other scandals including the newspaper war with Hayden.
With the multiple scandals surrounding Cranny, including his real estate deals, the missing Mission Offering logs, and the Hayden affair, Cranny was an easy target for Mr. Brann. To make matters worse, both Cranny and Mr. Brann worked in the Provident building and used the same publisher for their newspapers. I’d occasionally see some of their morning salutations with each other. Most of the time it was a typical “Good Day” that each said to the other without another word. But once after Mr. Brann called Cranny, “Jehovah Boanerges Cranfill,” in the Iconoclast, which he did quite often, Mr. Brann said, “Good Day.” Cranny mumbled something to him about watching his back, which startled Mr. Brann, but he just kept walking. It was not a good relationship.
Eventually, after he won multiple awards in court which were always appealed, Hayden settled with the Baptists. But before the settlement, things got really ugly, even to the point of violence. In May of 1904 there was a Baptist meeting in Atlanta. Both Hayden and Cranny were on a train traveling to the meeting. The way I heard the story is that somewhere between Dallas and Texarkana, Cranny got up to go the washroom car. He was carrying a gun given to him by his son at the son’s request. Hayden walked into the car and surprised Cranny, who then pulled the gun on him. Apparently there was no one else in the car.
According to Hayden, Cranny said, “There is no one in here now but you and me, and if it were not for my self-respect, I would kill you. And if you ever print or mention my name again, I will kill you.” Hayden also remembered that J. H. Luther had told him that Cranfill had threatened to “to take a shotgun, come to Dallas and blow his brains out.”
Hayden, never one to back away from a fight, started at Cranny and the two struggled for the gun. Hayden never got control of the gun and Cranny was able to get two shots off. Fortunately both missed Hayden and himself. At this point, others on the train heard the shots, ran to the washroom car, and broke up the fight. When the train stopped at the next depot in Texarkana, Cranny was arrested by the local authorities. For some strange reason, Hayden didn’t press charges against Cranny. He certainly could have, though, and he probably should have.
Shortly after this event, Cranny settled the lawsuit by paying Hayden $300. This isn’t much money, even for that time. Cranny apparently spent much more, somewhere around $25,000 with all the pending lawsuits. To me, it sounded like the sleazy action on the train really played heavily on Cranny’s mind. So he and Hayden made an agreement out of court to settle and Cranny paid the fees accordingly. Finally the feud ended and Cranny went on to play a diminished role in Baptist politics. Hayden formed his own denomination, called the Missionary Baptist Association.
So you can see that some of the Baptists back in that day were not as “pure” as they should have been, and even occasionally resorted to violence to settle scores. When I heard what Cranny had said, “And if you ever print or mention my name again, I will kill you,” it sent shivers down my spine as it made a connection for me, that I’ll explain later. It was another sign.
Chapter 7
THE WACO MOB
The “Waco Policy” was strictly a Baptist-driven initiative. The secular side of town would likely agree with its objectives as it would bring more business and commerce to Waco. However, they didn’t care one way or the other about its religious goals. To the industrialists of the town, it was all about money.
Waco was as good a place as any to make a buck, and plenty of people did. William Cameron was one of the prime examples. He came to Waco without much of anything, but died a very wealthy man. He started a small lumber company in Waco in the 1870s, and by the time he died he was a multimillionaire. His business was a place where you could purchase lumber for building houses, businesses, etc. His initial business grew rapidly. He built several mansions, on the West side, of course. When he died, he donated a large plot of riverfront property to the City of Waco. This became known as Cameron Park, which is still one of city’s prized possessions. Mr. Cameron was of Scottish decent. He kept his Scottish, or as I would tease him his “Scoish” accent, with silent t’s for his life. Although a multimillionaire, he acted just like an everyday Joe.
Inez and I spent countless hours walking the river banks on Mr. Cameron’s property. We had his permission to hike the area, and we did so for hours and hours at a time. Most of the land was covered in thick brush. There were trails throughout the region. Mr. Cameron kept these maintained so that he, his family, and friends could enjoy the wilderness without breaking out in poison ivy blisters the next day. One of my favorite places was where the Bosque River and the Brazos Rivers meet. The Bosque River is a tributary to the Brazos and is significantly smaller, but always has a strong flow to it. Its waters are not nearly as briny as the Brazos River. I always
enjoyed taking a dip in it, weather permitting.
The area is full of huge chalk bluffs, some of which reach over 100 feet high. We’d climb to the top of them and look out onto the virgin land for as far as the eye could see. Inez loved nature, as did her father. If a monarch butterfly landed near her, she would gaze intensely at the pattern of its wings and wonder at its source of beauty.
She especially enjoyed hummingbirds. Around Mr. Cameron’s property, you could hear them buzzing by. They would do battle with each other, working diligently to protect their territory from neighboring hummingbirds. Sometimes there would be twenty of them buzzing overhead. They sounded like an array of airplanes on their way to do battle with the Japanese Zeros. More than once we had to duck to avoid them dive bombing us as we hiked the trails. What fun we had dodging those hummingbirds.
Those were the best days of my life. I was earning money with my courier business, I enjoyed the people of the town, and got along with everyone. Most of all, Inez was my constant companion. When I wasn’t working, I was spending time with her. We talked about everything, from nature, to the people in town, to the Baptists, and even the politics of the town. We’d contemplate the future of Waco, the nation, and the world, but we never really considered our own future. We both thought about it constantly, or at least I did, but it was never a direct topic. I did, however, bring it up indirectly. As we considered the future of Waco, I’d say, “I wonder where we’ll be living?” It was implied that the “we” was considered the “royal we,” not the “you and me we.” She’d always shrug it off and say, “Who knows where we all will be.”
Yes, at that point, our futures were as bright as the noon-day sun. There were no limits to where we might go. Although I was the son of a prostitute and she was the daughter of a sensationalist newspaper man, we felt no barriers, no limits, and no constraints on our future. We felt we had the power to do anything and be anything we wanted. Some may call it youthful ignorance or naiveté, but looking back I don’t think we were naive at all. We had an unvoiced love for each other, and with it, a synergistic power of this partnership to support each other to achieve just about anything possible. No, I don’t think we were ignorant or naive at all. I think we were dealing with the power of love, and Mr. Cameron’s riverbank trails were the garden for that love. It was our Garden of Eden.
But besides Mr. Cameron, there were plenty of other rich industrialists in town. When J. D. Bell discovered artesian water and dug wells in Waco, the city became known for its fresh water with miracle healing capabilities. In the hot Texas weather, fresh water was always a valuable resource. It could be used to gain wealth, and Mr. Bell certainly did. He was always a proper and prim gentleman. He’d always wear a three-piece suit even in the midst of the August Texas heat.
Tom Padgitt built a saddlery and leather shop in town. Leather was a mainstay of the area back then as buggies, saddles, belts, boots, and many other items required it. We had plenty of dead cows whose hides needed tanning. Mr. Padgitt was more than happy to oblige. He tanned them and sold them. He built a thriving business still in existence today. Along the way, he became quite a wealthy man.
C. T. Hartmann had a general store that kept growing and growing, literally. He sold baby carriages, clothing, and everything else you could think of. His store on Austin Avenue started with a single floor. Then one year he added a second story to it. Just a few years later, he added two more floors to the building. I never knew that building floors could be added like that, but when Mr. Hartmann needed something, he got it done.
Many other men became wealthy from their business dealings in town. These industrious folks were the heart of the city. Not only did they provide goods and services, but also jobs and an honest living to the working folks of the city.
These fine folks were the leaders of the city and many of them were involved in Waco politics and became mayors and city councilmen. To them it was all about ensuring that the mechanics of the city were working like a well-oiled machine. They didn’t want any issues with the moving parts. The folks of the town took pride in their growing city, and didn’t like to see the city’s good name disparaged in any way that might disrupt commerce.
Mr. Brann was also quite proud of the thriving and bustling city, but his way of showing it was quite different than the city’s leadership. Mr. Brann sought out controversy, because he had a newspaper to sell. This created conflict between these two parties.
Mr. Brann wasn’t afraid to call out things that were not on the up and up in the city. He regularly chastised the leadership on areas that could be run better.
He had a particular axe to grind with C. T. Hartmann. Mr. Hartmann was opinionated. When he found something in the way of progress, he used any and all resources to remove the obstacle. As his business grew, his resources grew. He became quite a powerful man within Waco. He was certainly one to be respected and reckoned with.
Like any two strongly opinionated men, Mr. Hartmann and Mr. Brann did not always see eye to eye. The word “hate” might be too strong a word, but let’s just say they weren’t on speaking terms. Mr. Brann would greet everyone he met, with a “Good Day,” even folks he didn’t care for, like Cranny. Mr. Hartmann was the same way. He always greeted people and potential customers with a smile, everyone except for Mr. Brann. When Mr. Brann saw Mr. Hartmann on the street or vise-versa, they avoided directly passing each other. If there was no alternative path, each would look down without saying a word. The two men pretended they didn’t see each other. It was obvious there was some issue between the two gentlemen, but no one knew what it was.
Plenty of rumors floated around town as to the possible issue. One rumor was that Mrs. Brann was shopping when Mr. Hartmann asked her to leave his store due to some of the things that Mr. Brann had been saying in the Iconoclast. Another rumor was that Mr. Brann, after finishing a beer or two at a local bar where Mr. Hartmann was also cooling off, had a bit of the “bottom of the glass courage.” He proceeded to tell Mr. Hartmann about the lack of quality of the product he had sold Mrs. Brann. Mr. Hartmann took offense at this. Yet another rumor was that Mr. Hartmann offered to pay Mr. Brann a handsome sum of cash if he would just leave town. Of course, Mr. Brann took offense at this. Whatever the cause, Mr. Brann and Mr. Hartmann did not care for each other. They avoided any type of meeting to prevent a confrontation of some sort.
Mr. Hartmann was one of the industrialists who formed these cliques known as a “wagon train circle” around any troubling issue or dilemma in Waco. For example, some gypsies and bums came to town and were begging on the streets of Waco. They typically panhandled in front of the Hartmann building. Mr. Hartmann and a group of the Waco industrialists met and decided to take action. One day the gypsies were camping on the banks of the Brazos River and the next day they were gone. No one knew what happened to them, if they were offered money to leave, or if they were threatened. But they were gone and the problem was solved.
Not even the Sheriff knew what became of the Gypsies and the Sheriff knew all the doings around town. However, the disappearance of the Gypsies allowed the people of Waco to go back to doing commerce without worrying about being bothered. Mr. Hartmann was the leading figure in this. There were some rumors that a body or two showed up at the falls in Marlin, a small town downstream from Waco. But this was never confirmed.
I didn’t believe any of the rumors of this conflict between Mr. Brann and Mr. Hartmann. I always believed that the animosity between the two men was that Mr. Brann didn’t like the heavy-handiness of Mr. Hartmann. Mr. Brann wasn’t one to let something like this go without a word. Although he did keep their personal feud out of the Iconoclast as I never read anything about it. Inez never understood the friction between them either, and she agreed with my analysis.
Mr. Brann was brutal in his depiction of the incompetency of the leadership of Waco. He ridiculed their supposed worldliness when in actuality they couldn’t manage the carnival in their own backyard. He laughed at their buffoonery
and their feeble attempts to bring business and enterprises to Waco. When decisions didn’t go Waco’s way, not only would the good folks of Waco hear about their incompetent leadership, but the entire spectrum of the Iconoclast’s subscribers would also hear about it. Since the Iconoclast had subscribers worldwide, the world also heard about Waco’s dirty laundry.
This didn’t sit well with the leadership of Waco. Although Mr. Brann brought worldwide attention to this small central Texas town, the global notoriety was not welcome. Many in the leadership thought the negative attention impeded business and thus blocked the money flow into the town.
Mayor J. W. Riggins was heavy into politics, liquor, and the annual Cotton Palace festival held in town. Mr. Brann and Mayor Riggins had one thing in common. They were both adamantly opposed to Prohibition, or the Temperance Movement, as it was known back then. Mayor Riggins wasn’t a big drinker, but he was into distribution of liquor. When he wasn’t politicking for Mayor or City Councilman, or directing the festivities at the Cotton Palace, he was working his liquor business. He and Cranny were always jokingly picking at each other. Mayor Riggins wanted Cranny to invest some of his lost church funds in his liquor business. Cranny wanted Mayor Riggins to come to his Sunday School class to show the class a bad example of what alcohol could do to a person as he would pat Mr. Riggins’ huge beer belly.
But when it came to business, Mayor Riggins was as serious as he could be. He focused so much on his business that once when he was Mayor of Waco, he was impeached from office for neglecting his duties. Of course the Baptists applauded this action, including Cranny. He was always tending to business, but it was the liquor business and not the city’s business, so they threw him out office. Amazingly enough, just a few years later he ran again and won.