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I"'~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I 
P,EV. HENIP'Y  -NIAl-.  BE.ECIIR. 
PLYMOUTH CHURCH
AND ITS PASTOR,
OR
HENRY WARD BEECHER AND HIS ACCUSERS.
"Give me good proofs of what you have alleged:
'Tis not enough to say-in such a bush
q'lhere lies a thief-iin such a cave a beast, lBut you nmust show himnt to me ere I shoot,
Else I nmay kill one of my  stragqlinq ste(ep:
l'i fobnd ofno man's pewrson but his v"irt"e."
CoOWN'S IST. PART OF IIHNRY VI.
COMIPILED BY
J. E. P. DOYLE.
HARTFORD, CONN.:
THE PARK PUBTISHING COMPANY.
1874. 
ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by the
PARK PUBLISHING COMPANY,
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washlington.
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PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
It was not without many misgivings that the uindersigned
accepted a commission from the publisher to prepare a history
of the great religious scandal that for so many months has excited a nation, caused Christians to blush for the cause of religion, and unbelievers to scoff and rejoice that the light of the
most brilliant star in the pulpit firmament was likely to be extinguished, and his usefulness terminated for all time. The
compilation of a work of this magnitude under ordinary circumstances would be a perplexing and thankless task, but when
the reputations of two of the first men of the country, and a
modest, christian wife and mother are involved, the task becomes more difficult and painful. It is more so in a case like
this where no competent tribunal has been organized to compel witnesses to testify under oatlh, that all the facts may be
elicited. In the compilation of the work, the undersigned has
endeavored conscientiously to present the case as fairly as possible for all the parties to the unfortunate difficulty. Care has
been taken to exclude all matter irrelevant to the issue, except
such as may be calculated to preserve the thread of the narrative. Another difficulty-and, perhaps, the most stupendous
of all-was to avoid all disgusting details likely to shock the
refined sensibilities of the reader. In this particular the compiler may have partially failed. His apology is that had he
shorn the testimony and doctfqents of all these objectionable
passages the reader would be unable to understand the charac
331722
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I 
PREFACE.
ter of the offences charged. Yet he recollects that the religious as well as the secular press have opened their columns for
the admission of the deplorable story, and that in an interview with a representative, of a Chicago journal, Rev. Dr.
Beecher, of that city, is credited with the use of more indelicate language than any that will be found in this compilation
-language that the undersigned has carefully refrained from
reproducing. With no bias in the matter, and unacquainted
with the parties to the scandal, the  undersigned does  not
desire to express any individual opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the distinguished Pastor of Plymouth Church; and
should time vindicate him no one will rejoice more than he
will. Whether or not that vindication ever comes, the American people can never forget the great services Mr. Beecher has
rendered his country and they will ever retain for him the same
feelings of affection and love that his congregation does ill this
hour of trial. In the compilation of the biographies the undersigned has availed himself of extracts from a work by Mr.
Leon Oliver, published in Chicago, to whom he presents his
acknowledgments.                             J. E. P. DOYLE.
New York, August, 1874.
a
t,
vi 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
The Original charges made by Mrs. Victoria WVoodhull-How Mr. Beech  er's Secret came into Her Possession through Mrs. PaulinaWright Davis
-Mrs. Stanton and Mr. Beecher's own Sister mixed up in the Scan  dal as circulators of it-The Scene in Mr. Tilton's House when he
discovered his Wife's Infidelity, as Woodhull alleges Tilton described
it to her......................................................... 13
CHAPTER II.
"The Republic Threatened-The Beecher Tilton Scandal and the Beech  er-Bowen-Comstock Conspiracy-The Seal broken at Last-Woodhull's
"lies" and Theodore Tilton's" True Story "-The Account Horrible at
Best-"No Obscenity" but God's Naked Truth-The Thunderbolt
shatters a bad crowd and ploughs the whole ground."..............  46
CHAPTER III.
Trenchant Review of the "True Story" and Mr. Clark's errors by the
Woodhull-The Poem "Sir Marmaduke's Musings," which, it is al leged is intended to refer to Theodore-How it was written in Boston,
when Tilton had discovered his wife's fall, with a pistol before him,
and preparatory to committing suicide-Mrs. Paulina Wright Davis'
Letter-" The more I think of this mass of Beecher corruption the
more I desire its opening."..........................................
CHAP "ER IV.
Developments during the Summer and Fall of 1873-Plymouth Church
charges Mr. Tilton with slandering Mr. Beecher.-Mr. Tilton's defiance
summarized-The action of the Church-Mr. Beecher's declaration that
he had no complaint to make against Mr. Tilton-Action of the sister
churches through Rev. Dr's. Stork and Budington-The correspond  ence between them and Mr. Beecher-That led to the assembling of
the Congregational Council........................................ 113
5
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CONTENTS.
CHAPTER V.
The assembling of the Council of Congregational Churches-The in vitation to Plymouth Church to explain its action in dropping Mr. Til ton's name from the rolls-The Declaration of Plymouth church of its
independence-The verdict of the council and a review by Rev. Dr.
Bacon........................................................... 127
CHAPTER VI.
Mr. Tilton's celebrated reply to Dr. Bacon's criticisms-His declara  tion that owing to the efforts made by Mr. Beecher's friendl to crush
him he felt called upon to show that he was not "the creature of Mr.
Beechler's magnanimity "-The letter of Beecher asking Theodore Til  ton's forgivness-" I humble myself before him as I would before my
God'-The offense committed by Beecher against Tilton which Theo  dore forbears to name-Tilton spurns a proposition from Beecher's
friends to pay his expenses if he will retreat to Europe with his
family........................................................... 153
CHAPTER VII.
A scathing review of Tilton's, Beechler's and Woodhull's pernicious
doctrines from the pen of Professor V. B. Denslow-" The record of
the Three Reformers the outcroppings of uncleanliness "-Tilton's
biography of that unblushing Apostle of prostitution" severely crit  icised-Tilton's ambition and his martyrdom-His analyzation of
Beecher's character-Henry \Vard is a voluptuary and very selfish  Tilton being a" Free Lover" could very properly accept an apology
from Beecher for invading his house, instead of resorting to the cow  hide or Pistol-The inner-life of Plymouth Church.................173
CHAPTER VIII.
A Graphic description of Mr. Beecher's first church and reminiscences of
his congregation at Lawrenceburg, Indiana, and his labors among the
colored people of the Cincinnati suburbs-His marriage to the ambi tious Eunice Leighton of Hill Farm-Mrs. Beecher's book "From Dawn
to Daylight" and the mysterious Ventilation of the Church records Departure of the Beechers from Lawrenceburg in a buggy-His career
in Indianapolis, and how he played the role of Joseph in resisting the
advances of the fair Mrs. Potophars of his congregation-A Romance
of Theodore-How lie secured Beechlier's Love-In the role of a gover nor of a State-" WValking on stilts with his face Heavenward........187
CHAPTER IX.
A visit to the Claflin Woodhulltsters' Banking Office —A running com mentary upon Theodore Tilton, who loves Scotch Ale as he once loved
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CONTENTS.
the modern Demosthenesa spicy interview with Victoria Woodhull
Her relations to Tilton and Beecher explained-"Theodore was my devoted lover."...................................................... 211
CHAPTER X.
Tilton's Life of Woodhull, with cutting c)lmmlnents by a friend of H. W.
Beecher-The priestess of love and unlimited affection, and the varying
phases of the phantasmagoric career fondly phlotographed-On the
housetop conversing with Demostlienes-Her Revelations to Theodore
-Her return from the West to vindicate her biographer-An inter view and denial of Mr. Tilton's irregularities" at her house-The
moment that she first learned of Mr. Beechler's liaison from his sister
and Mrs. Stanton................................................. 220
CHAPTER XI.
The long-looked-for blow falls at last upon the Pastor-The astounding
charges of Mr. Tilton-Oft and repeated acts of "criminal commerce"
between Mrs. Tilton and her pastor —Mr. Beecher charged with " nest
hiding "-A sad tale of domestic infelicity, a devoted woman's love
religious zeal, Platonic affecti(n for her pastor, etc.-Her confession to
her husband-How Mr. Beecher wrung a retraction from her to save
an exposure...................................................... 254
CHAPTER XII.
Alleged cross-examination of Mr. Tilton and his denial of the words put
into his mouth-Henry Ward Beecher's defense-His relations to Mrs.
Tilton only such as could be entertained by a pure minded woman,
but he did cause a social catastrophe-Mrs. Tilton's sweeping denial  Her own graphic story of her domestic trouble and her affection for
her pastor-Mr. Tilton interviewed-His threat to draw a two-edged
sword and his offer to go into court, either as plaintiff or defendant  General Butler's advice and a significant Herald editorial-More dis  gusting charges by Mr. James McDermott in an interview with a re  porter...........................................................  280
CHAPTER XIII.
Theodore on the Rack of Cross-Examination-lie adheres to his stories
of Criminal Commerce and describes'- Tlhe Ankle Scene" " The Bed  room Meeting," etc-A peculiarly bad Memory-He Gives Mr. Beecher
the " Benefit of the Doubt."-" Mutual Friend " Moulton and a History
0
of Elizabeth's Confessions-Dramatic Denials, Fierce Threats and
Defiance.........................................................  299
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CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XIV.
A Week of Intense Excitement-The Women Suffrage Ravens gather
about-Mrs. Stanton declares that Mr. Tilton Admitted'o her that Mr.
Beecher had Seduced Mrs. Tilton and that the sin was Confessed by
Mrs. Tilton to Susan B. Anthony-Cot. Anthony Asserts that his sister
told him the same story-Miss Anthony will neither admit nor deny
the Allegations-Startling Statements by Mr. Carpenter-Thlle case in
the Court at last.................................................. 350
CHAPTER XV.
Mrs Tilton's Cross-Examination-Her Desperate efforts to clear the Char  acter of the Accused Pastor-A Highlly Seasoned Picture of Domestic
Infelicity and brutal treatment of Elizabeth by Theodore-" Our
Mutual Friend "Moulton has a sharp Correspondence with Henry Ward,
and finally agrees to make a clean breast of all he knows-Tilton in  structs his Counsel to begin an action of damages against Mr. Beecher
for the Seduction of his W i f e..................................... 375
CHAPTER XVI.
History of Plymouth Church-Particulars of its early organization  Some statistics of its income-Exciting events connected with Mr.
Beecher's pastorate, and the distinguished persons who have appeared
in the edifice.................................................... 397
CHAPTER XVII.
Something about the Beecher family-Dr. Lyman Beecher-Harriet
Beecher Stowe, and other members of the family who have achieved
reputation in religion and letters............................. 404
CHAPTER XVIII.
A brief sketch of Henry Ward Beecher-His schoolboy days-Preach ing to Negroes-His early ministerial labors in the West-Somethling
about his theological views-Personal appearance and anecdotes of
the man......................................................... 407
CHAPTER XIX.
Sketch of Theodore Tilton-His career as a Reporter, Editor, Lecturer,
Novelist and Poet-His personal appearance-His devoted admiration
of the fair sex-A man whoseAdonis-like appearance would carry the
citadel of any susceptible heart-Mr. Samuel Bowles' sketch of him... 419
41
viii 
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XX.
Sketch of Mrs. Theodore Tilton nee Elizabeth Richards-Her deeply
religious turn of mind-The delicate compliments paid her by the hus band who charges her with a great sin............................. 425
CHAPTER XXI.
Sketch of Mrs. Victoria Claflin Woodhlull-Her personal appearance A glance at her peculiar social theories-A dangerous antagonist,
either in conversation or as a writer............................... 429
CHAPTER XXII.
Sketch of John H. Blood-The "Brevet" husband of Victoria-What
Mrs. Woodhull says of him....................................... 433
CHAPTER XXIII.
Sketch of Tennie C. Claflin-Her personal appearance-The business
"man" of the brokerage firm-Extracts from her writings-Her
power as a Clairvoyant, and a remarkable test of it.................  435
CHAPTER XXIV.
Henry C. Bowen, his mercantile career as the senior member of the firm
of Bowen, McNamee & Co-His career as an editor and publisher  The charge that he was the first person to circulate charges against
the pastor........................................................  441
CHAPTER XXV.
Mr. Beecher unbosoms himself to the Committee-His very remarkable
explanation of his relations to Tilton and his family, alleges that hlie was
blackmailed by Tilton and Moulton, Denies any criminality with Mrs.
Tilton and gives most astounding explanations of the letters confessing
some sin in the premises..........................................443
CHAPTER XXVI.
"Mutual Friend Moulton's" crushing manifesto-He tells all hlie knows Mr. Beecher and Mrs. Tilton had admitted to him their acts of
adultery-Bowen's Machinations-Elizabeth's confession, retraction,
and admission that she is incapable of uttering the truth-How
Beecher used Moulton to cover his tracks-Isabella Beecher Hooker's
Free Love fancies-Rev. Thos. K. Beecher sees no hope for Henry,
and exclaims: "Hands off until he is down "-A fearful picture of
lying, prevarication, and plottingsThe blackmail story exploded Plymouth Church driven int silence............................... 479
f,
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CHAPTFER I.
TIIE ORIGINAL CHARGES AS IADE BY M[RS. WOODIIULL. —IOW MR.
BEECIIER'S SECRET CAMIE INTO HER POSSESSION TIIROUGII M1iS.
PAULINE WRIGHT DAYIS.-IRS. STANTON AND MIR. 1',EECIIEa' S
OWN SISTER MIIXED UP IN TIlE SCANDAL AS CIRCULATORIS OF IT.
-THE SCENE IN TILTON'S HOUSE WIIEN I E DISCOVI,ED) IIIS
WIFE'S INFIDELITY, AS WOODIIULL ALLEGES TILTON DE,SCRIBED
IT TO HER.
N entering upon the duty of preparing a faithfill narrative of
this great social sensation of the nineteenth century, the
author is not unmindful of the fact that much of the informiation-in the form of published statements, letters and other
documents, may be found in the future to be in some particulars
inaccurate, but as a faithful historian he proposes to give the
entire case as nearly as possible in chroniological order.   Long
before the publication of the original chiarges against 3tr.
Beeclier in }Voodlhull aund Claflin's Weekly-an o,rgan devotcd
to advance id(leas of social reform and universal love —rumors
of Mr. Beechler's " irregularities" had been circulated not only
in the city of Brooklyn, where Plymouth Church is situate, but
within various coteries of the women  suffragists.   Nobody,
however, placed much reliance upon  the " slanders," as they
were very generally designated, until in the issue of Tvoo(lhull
andl Cl(tflii's WFeekly, of November 2d, 1872, there were explicit and detailed charges made.   The author proposes to
copy the charges in Mrs. Nodhull's  own words, the more
especially as she signs themn as ani evidence of their truth and
13 
14 l  WOODHULL DISCOURSES ON'A4T-RI.OiY.
hler responsibility in the matter of publication.  The followving
is her statement:
"I propose, as the commencement of a series of aggressive
moral warfare on the social question, to begin in this article
with ventilating one of the most stupendous scandals which
has ever occurred in iany community. I refer to that which
has been whispered broad-cast for the last two or three years
throough the cities of New  York and Brooklyln, touching the
character an(l conduct of the Rev. HENRY I rARD BEECIIER in
his relations with thle family of THIIEOIDORE, TILTON.   I intend
that this article shall burst like a bomb-shell into the ranks ol'
the moralistic social camp.
" I am  engaged in officering, and in some sense conducting,
a social revolution on the marriage question.   I have strolng
convictions to the effect that this institution, as a bond or promise to love another to the end of life, and forego all other loves
or passional gratifications, has outlived its day of usefulness
that the most intelligent and really  virtuous of our citizens,
especially in the large cities of Chliristen(dom, have outgrown it;
are constantly and systematically unfaithful to it; despise and
revolt against it, as a slavery, in their hearts; and only submit
to the semblance of fidelity to it from the dread of a sham
public opinion, based on the ideas of the past, and which no
lo(nger really represent the convictions of anyibo(1dy-.  The doctrines of scientific socialism have profoundly penetrated and
permeated  public opinion.   No  tlhought has so rapidly an(i
completely carried the convictions of the thinking portions of
the community as stirpicutlture.  The absurdity is too palpable,
when it is pointed out, that we give a hundred times  more
attention to the laws of breeding as applied to horses and
cattle andc pig(rs, and even to our barn-yard fowls, than we do to
the same laws as applied(l to human  beingTs.  It is equally
obvious, on a little reflection, that stirpl)iculture, or the scientific
propagation  and cultivation of the human  animal, demands
fiee love or fieedom of the varie(ld union of the sexes under the
dictates of the  highest and best lknowledg(e on the subject, as
an essential and precedent condition.   These considerations
are too palpable to be ignored, and they look to the complete
and early supercetdure of the old and traditional institution of
marriage, by the substittwion of some better system for the
maintenance of wonlen as mothers, and of children as prog(eny.
All intelligent people know these facts and lookli for the collming
0 
SHEl IS DELYOUNCED 0FOR HER SEVTIMENTS..
of some wiser and better system of social life.  Thle super cedul- of marriage in the near fuiture, by somne ki(nd of socialistic
arranoemenit, is as much a folregolle coiiclulsioll  itlh all the best
thinklliers of to-clday as was the approalchilg dissolution of slavery
no more than five or ten y}ears befolre its actual abolition in the
late war.
" But, in the meantime, men  and women  tremble on  the
brinki of the revolution and hesitate to avow their convictions,
,while yet partly aware of their righits, and iurged by the legitimate  impulses of nature, they act uil)on the new dloctrin-es
while they profess obedience to the old(.  In this manicei an
oro'anized hyp)ocrisy has become the tone of our modern society.
Poltrooinery, cowardice and deceptionI rule thie hotrI'.  The continuancec, for generations, of such tutter falsity, touching one of
the most sacred interests of humanity, will almost eradclicate
the sense of honesty firom the human  soutl.  Every consildeiation of sound expl)edieincy demands that these days be shortened;
that somebody lead the van in announcement of the higher
order of life.
"Impelled by such views, I entered the combat with old(
errors, as I believed them  to be, and  1)rougllt forward, in
addlition to the wise anid powerful words which  others have
uttered on the subject, the arguments which my own inspiration
and reflection suggtested.  No  sooner had I done so than the
lhowvl of persecution sounded in my ears.  Instead of replyingi
to my arguments, I was assaulted with shameful abuse.  I was
younig and inexperienced in the business of reform, and astotlund(led to find what, as I have since learned from the veterans
in the cause, is the usual fact, that the most  persistent and(
slanderous and foul-mouthed accusations came firom precisely
those who, as I often happened to know, stoodcl nearest to me in
their convictions, and whose lives, privately, were  a protest
against the very repression which I denounce.  It was a parad(lox which I could not understand, that I was  denounced as
utterly- bad for affiriing the ri(ght of others, to d(lo as they did
(lenoiuncecd 1)- the very persons whom my dloctimes could'lone
justify, and who claimed, at the same time, to l)e conscientious
and good men.  3Iy position led, nevertheless, to continuous
confidences relating to peol)le's own opinions and lives and( the
ol)inions and lives of others.   I3, mind became chlarged with
a whole literature of astoisNing  dlisclosures.   The  lives of
almiost the whole army of spiritualistic and social reformers, of
all the schools, were laid olpen before me.   But the muatter
f
15 
SHE HESITATES AS TO HER D UTJ:
did not stop there.  I found that, to a great extent, the social
resolution was  as far aldvanced among lead(ing li(ghts of the
business and wealthy circles, andcl of tl)e various professions,
not excluding the cler(gy and the churches, as among' technical
reformers.
It was, nevertheless, firom these very quarters that I was
most severely assaile(l.  It was vexatious and t; io' I conI ess,
for one of m- temper, to stand under the galling, fire of personalities froiom  parties  who  should have been my  wal'rmest
advocates, or -who should, else, have reformed their lives in
accordance with a morality which they wished the public to
understand they professed.    I  was  sorely and repeatedly
tempted  to retort, in personalities, to these attacks.   But
siml)ly as personality or personal defense, or spiteful retort, I
hlave almost wholly abstained dlurlling these )ears of sharp conflict firoom  makiig any use of the rich resources at my command
for that kind of attack.
" But, in the meantime, the question came  to press itself
upon uy consideration': Had I any right, liaving assulmned the
champll)ionshlip of social fireedomn, to forego the use of half the
weapons which the facts no less than the philosophy of the
sulbject placed at my command for cond(lucting the war-through
aun mere tenderness to those who were virtual traitors to the
truth -which they knew  and were surreptitiously acting upon?
HIlad not the sacred cause of human rights anid human  wellbeiing a paramount claim over my- own  conduct?  Was I not,
in withhloldcling the facts and( conniving at a putrid mass of
seethingo falsehood and hyp)ocrisy, in somne sense a partaker in
these crimes; and was I not, in fact, shriniking firom the responsil)ilit- of making the exposure miore through regard for nlmy
owni sensitiveness and dislike to be hurt than from  any true
sym3patlh,y with those who would be called upon to suffer?
" Thlese questions once before my mind would never be d(lisposed of until they were fairly settled upl)onl their own merits,
annl  apart, so far as I could separate them, from my own feelilS'Cs or the feelingTs of those who were more directly involve(l.
I have come slowly, deliberately, and I may a dd reliuctantly,
to my conclusions.  I went back to and studied the history of
other reforms.   I found that GARRISON, not onlyl denounced
slavery in the abstract, but that he attacked it in the concrete.
It wvas not only' the sum a4 all villainies,' but it was the particular villainy of this and that and the other great and infltuential man, North and South, in the community.  Reputations
0
16 
.rO.MAE A.,~ O.,[ELET SOME EGGS MUst BE BP.OKEX. 17
had to suffer.  Hle  bravely and persistently called( tliings by
their righlt names.   IIe pointed out and depicted the in(ldividual
instances of cruelty.  He draggedl to the li,ght and scathed and
stigl'n-ttize(l thle indiv-idlual otliinders.  I-e made themi a hissillg
and a )y-word, so far as ill him  l.   Hle  shlocked the public
sensibilities by actual and v-ivi(l pictlres of slLavehlold(il)g atrocities, and sent spl)ies into the eineinies' camp to search out the
instanees.  lThe worl(l lcried( slhame! al(I said it was scandalous,
and stopp)ed their ears and blind(led thieii e-es, that their own
sensibilities might not be hurt by these lhoriid revelations.
Thev cast the blanket of their charities and sminpatlies around
tile ireal offenders for their m-isfortune in being brotought to the
li,ght, and denounced  the informier as a maliognant  and cruel
wretch for not covering, up scenes too dreadtul to be thought
upon; as if it were not a thousand times mnore dreadful  that
thlley should be enacted.  But the brave ol(l cyclops ignored
alike their criticisms, their protests, and  their real and their
mockl sensibilities, acnd hammiered away at his anvil, forging
thunderbolts of the gods; and( nobody nowv says lie wa,s wroIng.
A nevw  public ol)inion had to be created, and lie kniew that
peo)le hadl to be shoelced, and that in(lividutal personal feelillgs
had to be hurt.  As Bismarcek is reported to lhave sai(-l' It' an
omelet has to be mad(e some eo-s have to be )broken.'   Every
rev-olutionll has its terrific cost, if not  in blood and treasure,
then still in the less taongible but alike real seitimental injury
of' thousands of suLffefers.  The  preliminary and paramount
question is: Otuglht the revolution to be madle, cost what  it
ma-?  Is the cost to humanity greater of permitting the standing evil to exist? and if so, then let the cost be incurred, fall
where it mulst.   If justice to humanity dlemand the given expendittire, thien accepting the particular enterprise of reform,
we accept all its necessary consequences, and enter upon our
work, fiaughlt, it may be, with repuglnance to ourselves as it is
necessarily with repu(gnance to otlhers.
"I have said that I caime slovwly, d(eliberately and reluctantly
to the adoption of this method of warfiare.  I was also }hindered
and delayed bvy the fact that if I entered upon it at all I saw
no way  to avoid ma,kiing the first onslaliol'ht in the most d(istilnislhed( quarters.  It would be cowardice in me to unearth
thle peccadillos of little men, and to leave untouclhed the (lderelictions and offences of the iagnates of social and intellectual
power and position.  Iow slowly I have moved in this matter,
and how reluctantly it may be inferred, will a)ppear fiom these
little points of history.
4b 
18 SHE PUBLiSSHED A CARD Ly TiE TIM'S AND WVORLD.
",Iore than two years ago these two cities-New York and
Brooklynl —were rife with rumors of an awful scandal in Plymouth Church.  These rumors  were  whlispered  and covertly
alluded to in almost every circle.  But the very enormity of
the facts, as the world views such matters, hushed the agitation
and prevented exposure. The press, warned by the laws of
libel, and by a tacit and in the main honorable consensus to
ignore all such rumors until they enter the courts, or become
otherwise matters of irrepressible notoriety, abstained  from
any direct notice of the subject, and the rumors themselves
were finally stifled or forgotten.   A few persons only knew
sometlling directly of the facts, but among them, situated as I
was, I happened to be one.  Already the question pressed on
me whether I ought not to use the event to forward the cause
of social freedom, but I only saw clear in the matter to the
limited extent of throwingi out some feelers to the public on the
subject.  It was often a matter of long aind anxious consultation between me and(l mi- cal)inet of confi(ldential advisers.
In June, 1,(70, IVoodhull (tadl Clafiii's lVeekly published
an article in rel)ly to HENRY C. BOWEN'S atttack on myself in
thle columns of the IJlldel)eiade?lt, the editorship of which had
just been vacated by THEODORE TILTON.  In this article the
followiing paragraphl occurred:'At this very moment awful
and herculean efforts are being made in a neighboring city to
suppress the mnost terrific scandal which has ever astonished
and convulsed any community.   Clergy, congregation and
community will be alike hurled into more than all the consternation  which the great explosion in Paris  carried  to  that
unfortunate city-, if this effort at suppression fail.'
"Subsequently I published a letter in both TVorld and Times,
in which was the following sentence:' I know a clergyman
of eminence in Brooklyn who lives in concubinage with the
wife of another clergyman of equal eminence.'
"It was generally and well understood among the people of
the press especially-, that both of these references were to this
case of MIr. BEECHER'S, and it came to be generally suspected
that I was better informed regarding, the facts of the case than
others, andi  was reserving publicity of my knowledge for a
more  convenient  season.   This  suspicion was  heigolltened
ncarly into conviction when it transpired that THEODORE TILTON was an earnest and al)arently conscientious advocate of
many of my radical theories, as appeared in his far-famed
biography of me, and in numerous other publications in the 
MERITS OF THE IMPENDING ExPoSE.
Golden Aqe and elsewhere.   Afr. TILTON'S warmest friends
were shocked at his course, and whenli he added to his remarkable proceedings, his brilliant  advocacy  of  my  Foutrteenth
Amendment theory, in his letters to HORACE GRiEELEY, CIIAS.
SUMINER and IMAT. CARPENTER, they cQinsidered him irremediably committed to the most radical of all radicals.  Assurance
was made  doubly sure when he presided at Steinway Hall,
when I, for the first time, flilly and boldly advanced my fireelove doctrines.   It was notedl, however, that this man who
stood before the world so fully committed to the broadest
principles of liberty, made it convenient to be conspicuously
absent from  the  convention of the Women  Sutiffragists  at
Washington last January.  All sorts of ruitors were thereupon rife.  Some said hle had'gone back' on his advocacy of
free-love;  some said that a rupture had taken place between
him and the leaders of the suffrage movement, and many were
the theories broulght forward to explain the ftacts.  But the
real cause did not transpire unltil AIr. TILTON was found at
Cincinnati urgingr as a candidate the ver- man whom he had
recently so severely castigated with his most caustic l)enl.  It
was then wisely,  surmised that  politi(,l ambition, and( the
editorial chair of the TribuTie, and his lit'e-long personal devotionI to MIr. GREELEY,  were the inducements  which had
sutfficed to turn his head and heart away, temporarily at least,
fromn our movement.
"About this time rumors floated out that 1Irs. WOODHULL,
disgusted at the recent conduct of lIr. TILTON xand the advice
given  him by certaiu of his friends, was animadverting in not
verv measured terms upon their conduct.  An article specifying matters involviing several of these persons, obtained considerable circulation, and with other circumstances, such as the
definite statement of facts, with  names and places, indicated
that the time was at hand, nighl even unto the door, when the
thlings that had remained hidden, should be broulght to lighlt,
and the whole aff-air made public.
Some time in August last there appeared in the Evening
Telegramn a paragral)ll which 1hintedl bro.dly( at the nature of
the imp)ending ex.r)os?.  About  this time, a gentleman fiom
abroald, to whom I had related some of tlhe facts in in)y possessioln, repeated them to a member of Mlr. BEECIIER'S church, iwho
denounced the whole story  s an infamous libel; but some
davs later lie acknowllgedl both to his firiend and me that he
had  inquired into the matter and had learned that it was
19
t 
9 0     "A NA TION WILL BE BO1?N IN' A DA Y."
a damning  fact.'  This gentleman  occupies a responsible
position, anid his word is good( for all that hle utters.  Such was
the facility  with  which confirmations were  obl)taine(l  when
sotughlt for.  When, tlherefore, those who were conversant with
the case, saw ill the Bostoit.ter(d(l and other pal)ers that I hlad
madt(le a publ)ic statement reygarding tle wihole matter, they were
not in the least surprised.  It shows thl.at the press had concltIlecd that it was  time to recognize the sensation which,
whether they would or not, was destined soon to shake the
social structure firom its foundation.
" A rel)orter was then specially detailed to interview me in
order, as he said, that the matter might be published in certain
of the New York papers.  Why that interview has been  suppressed is not possible to affirm with certainty, but it is easy to
guess.  An impecunious reporter can be bought off with a few
hundred dollars.  And there are those who would readily pay
thotlsands to slhut the columns of the press agtainst this exposure.
Fortuntately I have a nea rly velb)atim copy of the report, as the
intelrviewer prepared it, anid in this shape I shlall now present it
to the plI)lic.
"Bult before proceedling( to the main matter, let me relate,
more in detail, the facts which finally determined me to enter
ul)o()n this a(dventtuLous and resl)onsible lnetllo(l of agitation.
" In September, 1871, I was elected, at tile annual coinvention
at Tt'oy, President of the National Association of Sl)iritualists.
I had never consociated withl the Sl)iritualists, although for
many years bothl  a Spiritualist and a medium myself, with rare
and wonderful experiences of my own from my childhood up.
I went to this convention mierely as a spectator, with lno previous
concert or machinery of any kind, andcl was myself as absolutely
taken by surpl)rise by my nomination and election as could have
been any one present.  It was said editorially in our paper,
Septenmber  30, 1871, and said truly:'Her surprise at her
recelption, and her nomination to the Presidency of the Society
was equll-aled onl- )by the gratitude which she felt, and will ever
feel, at the unexl)ected and tumultuous kindness with which she
was then aul( tthere hionored beyondc her desert.'
In IVoodhztll and Clafiit's TVeekly, of Nov. 11, 1871, I addrlesse(l a Presid(lent's message to the American Association of
Sl)irittalists.  In that document I made  use of these words
' A new and mightier poi'- than all the rings and caucuses,
than all the venal legislatures and congresses, has already entered the arena.  Not only are all the reform parties coalescent
0 
WOODHULL PRESIDENT, EQ UAL RIGI-TS PARTY.  2 1
in the reform plane, but they have already coalesced in spirit,
under the new lead, and' a nation will be born in a day.'  They
ihave already- takeln ipossession of the public conviction.  Some Ih-iat unconsciously, but really, all the people look to the com ilig of a new era; but all of them are not so well aware as we
are that the spirit world has always exerted a great and d(liversified influence over this, while it is not till quite recently that
the spiritual development of this world has made it possible for
the other to maintain real and continuous relations with it.
"' Your enthusiastic acceptance of me, and your election of
me as y'our President, was, in a sense, hardly your act.  It was
an event prepared for you and to which yout were impelled by
the sul)erior powers to which both you, and I are subject.  It
was only one step in a series of rapid and astounding events,
which will, in a marvellously short time, change the entire face
of the social world.'
" This and similar to this was the complete avowal which I
then made of my faithl, in the spiritual ordclering of lhuman events,
and especially of a grand series of events, now in actual and
rapid proogress, and tending to culminate in the complete dlissolutioni of the old social order, and in the institution of a new
and celestial ordcer of humanity in the world.  And let me now
takle occasion to aflirm, that all the, otherwise viewed, terrible
events which I am about to recite as having occurred in Plymouth Church, are merely parts of the same dramna which have
been cautiously and lalboriously prepared to astound men into
the consciousness of the possibilities of a better life; andc that
I believe that all the parties to  this enibroglio have been,
thlroulghout, the unconscious agents of the higher powers.   It
is this belief, more than annything else, which finally reconciles
me to enact my part in the matter, whichl is that of the mere
gi?tncia to the world of the facts which have happened, and so
of the new step in the dissolution of the Old and in the inauguration of the Nevw.
At a large and enthusiastic N'ational Convention of the
reformers of all schools, held in Apollo HIall, New Yolrkl, the
11th and 12thl of TIny, 1872, I was l)ut ill nomination as the
candidate of the E(lIIal Rihlits Partys for the presidency of the
United States.  Despite the brilliant promise of appearances
at the inception of this movement, a counter current of fatality
seemed from that time to attad both it and me.  The press,
sud(denly diNvided betweeni- the other two great parties, reftu sed
all notice of the new reformatory movement; a series of pecun 
SHE DID NOT SWEAR PROF4NEL Y.
iary disasters stripped us, for the time being, of the means of
continuing our own weekly publication, and forced us into a
desperate struggle for mere existence.  I had not even the
means of commutnicating my condition to my  own circle of
fi-iends. At the same time my health failed from mere exhlaus tion.  The inauguration of the new party, and my nomination,
seemed to fall dead upon the country; and, to cap the climax,
a new batch of slanders and injurious innuendoes permeated
the comrnunity in respect to my condition and character.
Circumstances being in this state, the year rolled round, and
the next annual convention of the National Association of Spir itutalists occurred in Selpt., 1872, at Boston.   I went there driagged( by the sense of duty-tired, sick and discouraged as
to niy own future, to surrender my charge as President of the
Association, feeling as if I were distrusted and unpopular, and
with no consolation but the consciousness of hlaving striven to
do right, and my abiding faith in the wisdom  and help of the
spirit world.
" Arrived at the great assemblage, I felt around me every where, not indeed a positive hostility, not even a fixed spirit
of unfriendliness, but one of painful uncertainty and doubt.  I
listened to the speeches of others and tried to gather the sentiment of the great meeting.  I rose finally to my feet to render
an account of my stewardship, to surrender the charge, and
retire.  Standing there before the audience, I was seized by
one of those ov-erwhlelmrning, gusts of inspiration which sometimes
come upon me, frlom I know not where; taken out of myself;
hurried away firom the immediate  question of discussion, and
made, by some power stronger than I, to pour out into the ears
of that assembly, and, as I was told subsequently, in a rhapsody
of indignant eloquence, with circumstantial detail, the whole
history of the BEECIIER and TILTON scandal in Plymouth Church,
and to announce in prophetic terms  something of the bearing
of those events upon the future of Spiritualism. I know perhaps less than any of those present, all that I did actually say.
They tell me that I used some naughty words upon that occasion.  All that I know is, that if I swore, I did not swear profalsely.  Some said, with the tears streaming from their eyes,
that I swore clidvinely.  That I could not have shocked or horrified the audience was shown by the fact that in the immense
hall, packed to the ceilingo,and as absolutely to my own surprise
as at my first election at Troy, I was re-elected President of
the Association.  Still impressed by my own previous convic
22
I
4 
SIIE IS NOT IHOSTILE TO Ml?. BEECIER.
tioins, that my labors in that connection were ended, I promptly
dlecline(l tlle oflice.  The convention, however, refused to accept
my dcleclinature.
"The public press of Boston professed holy horror at the
freedom of my speech, andcl restricted their reports to the narrowest limits, carefully suppressilng what I lhad(l said of the
conduct of the great clergynman.  The report went forward,
however, through various channels, in a mutffled and mutilated
form, the general conclusion being, probably, with the uninformed, simply that Jlrs. IVoodhull ha(l putblicly slandered Mr.
Beecher.
"Added, therefore, to all other considerations, I am now
placed in the situation that I must either endurte unjustly the
imputation of beiing a sland(lerer, or I must resumle my3 p(reviously
formed purpose, antd relate iii formal terms, for the whlole l)ublic, the siml)le facts of the case as they have come to INy knilowledg(le, and so jutstifn-, in cool deliberation, the words I ulttered,
almost unintentionally, and by a sudd(en impulse, at Boston.
" I accept the situation, and enter advisedly i)upon the task I
have undertaken, knowing the responsibilities of the act and its
possible consequences.   I am impelled by ino hostility whatever
to'ir. BEECIIER, nor by any personal pique toward him or any
other person.  I recognize in the facts a fixed determination in
the Spirit world to bri(ng this subject to the light of day for
high and( important uses to the world.  They demand of me my
co-operation, and they shall have it, no matter what the conlsequences may be to me personally.
" The following is the re-statement from notes, aided by my
recollection, of the interviewing upon this subject by the press
reporter already alluded to:
"Reporter.-' Mrs. WOODIULL, I have called to ask if you
are prepared and willing to furnish a full statement of the
BEECHIn-TILTON scandal for publication in the city papers?'
"Mrs. }Voodhctll.-' I do not know that I oughlt to object to
repeating whatever I know in relation to it.  You understand,
of course, that I takle a different view of sucllh matters firom
those usually avowed by other people.  Still I have good reason to think that far more people entertain views corrcsl)on(ling
to mine than dare to assert them or openly live up to them.'
" Reporter.-' How, Mrs. WOOI)IIULL, woiuld you state in the
most condensed way your Spinions on this subject, as they
cdiffer from those avowed and ostensibly lived by the public at
large?'
23
a 
BEECHEPER'S HYPOGRISY.
" MJfs. TVoocdhutll.-' I believe that thle marriage institution,
like slaivery and monarchy, and many other things which have
been good or necessairy in their day, is now effete, and ill a general sense injurious, instead of being beneficial to the comnnt
nity, althoulgh of course it must continue to liinger until better
institutions can be formed.  I mean by marriagte, in this connection, any fo?ced or obligatory tie between the sexes, ang legal
intervention or constraintt to prevent people from adjusting their
love relations precisely as they do their religious afftirs in this
country, in complete personal freedom; changing and improvingi them fr'om time to time, and according to circumstances.'
"Rel)otter.-' I confess, then, I cannot understand Nwhy youi
of all persons should lhavre any fault to find with iMr. BEeCIIER,
even assumingi   everythling to be true of him which I have
hitherto heard only vaguely hintedl at.'
"lfrs. TVoodh,tll.-I' I have no fault to find with him in any
such sense as you mean, nor in any such sense  as that in
which the world will condemn him.  I have no doubt that lihe
has d(lone the very best which he could (lo under all the circumstances-with his demiand(ing  physical nature, and  with the
terrible restrictions upon a clerngymail's life, imposed by that
ignorant public opinion about pihysiological laws, which tihey,
neverthleless, more, perhaps, than any other class, dlo their best
to perpetuate.   The fault I find with IMr. BEECIIER is of a
whliollv dilfterent character, as I have told him  repeatedly andcl
fiankly-, and as he knowNs very well.  It is, indeed, the exact
opp)osite to that for vwhichl the world will condemn him.  I concdelin  him because I know, and have hadc ecier opportunity to
know, that hie entertains, on conv-iction, sutbstatiallyt the same
views which I entertain on the social question; that, under the
influence of these convictions, lie has lived for marny years,
perhals for his whole adult life, in a manner which the religious
and moralistic public ostensibly, and to some extent really
condemn; that hlie has permlitted himself, nevertheliless, to be
over-awed by public opinion, to profess to believe otherwise
thllan as hle does believe, to lhav-e helped to maintain for these
liany years that very social slavery under which hlie was chafing,l
and aglainst which he was secietly revolting both in tlought
and practice; and that he has, in a  woi(i, consented, and still
consents to be a hypocrite.  The fault with wihich I, therefore,
chlargre lhim, is not infidelit3to the old ideas, bu;t unfaithfulness
to tlhe new.  I-Ie is i' heartt, in conviction and in life, an ultra
socialist reformer; while in seeming, and pretension hle is the
24 
SHE HEARS RUMORS.
upholder of the old social slavery, and, therefore, does what he
can to crush out and oppose me and those who act and believe
with me ill forwarding the great social revolution. I know,
myself, so little of the sentiment of fear, I have so little respect
for an ignorant and prejudiced public opinion, I am so accustomed to say the thing that I think and do the thing that I
believe to be right, that I doubt not I am in danger of hlaving
far too little syml)athy with the real difficulties of a man situated( as Mr. BEECIIER has been, and is, when lie contemplates
the idea of facing social opprobrium.  Speaking from my feelings, I am prone to denounce him as a poltroon, a coward and a
sneak; not, as I tell you, for anything that he has done, and
for which the world would condemn him, but for failing to do
what it seems to me so clear he ought to do; for failing, ill a
word, to stand shoulder to shoulder with me and others who
are endeavoring to hasten a social regeneration which he believes in.'
"Reporter.-' You speak very confidently, Mrs. WOODHULL,
of Mr. BERECHER'S opinions and life.  Will you now please to
resume that subject, and tell me exactly what you know of
both?'
"Mfrs. Woodhull.-' I had vaguely heard rumors of some
scandal in regard to Mr. BEFCIIER, which I put aside as mere
rumor and idle gossip of the hour, and gave to them no attention whatever. The first serious intimation I had that there
was something more than mere gossip in the matter came
to me in the committee room at Washington, where the suffrage
women congregated during the winter of 1870, when I was
there to urge my views on the Fourteenth Amendment. It was
hinted in the room that some of the women, Mrs. ISABELLA
BEECIIER HOOKER, a sister of MAir. BEECHER, among the number, would  snub Mrs. WVOODIIHULL on account of her social
opinions and antecedents.  Instantly a gentleman, a stranger
to me, stepped forward and said:'It would ill become these
women, and especially a Beecher, to talk of antecedents or to
cast any smirch upon Mrs. TVoodhull, for I am reliably assured
that Henry Wcterd Beecher preaches to at least twenty of his
* * *  every Sunday.'
"' I paid no special attention to the remark at the time, as I
was very intensely engaged in the business which had called
me there; but it afterward Arcibly occurred to me, with the
thought also that it was strange that such a remark, made in
such a presence, had seemed to have a subduing effect instead
2
25
6 
.MRS. PA ULINA W'RIGHT.)A VIS.
of arousing indignation.   The women who  were there could
not have treated me  better than they did.   Whether this
strange remark had any influence in overcoming their objections
to me I do not know; but it is certain they were not set
against me by it; and, all of them, Mrs. HOOKER included,
subsequently professed the warmest friendship for me.'
"Rep)orter. -' After this, I presume you sought for the solution of the gentleman's remark.'
"Afrs. TVoodhull. -' No, I did not. It was brotught up subsequently, in an intimate conversation between her and me, by
MIrs. PAULINA WRIGHT DAVIS, without any seeking on my part,
and to my very great surprise.  Mrs. DAVIS had been, it seems,
a firequent visitor at Mr. TILTON'S house in Brooklyn-thiey
having long been associated in the Woman's Rights movement
-and she stood upon certain terms of intimacy in the family.
Almost at the same time to which I have referred, when I was
in Washlington, she called, as she told me, at Mr. TILTON'S.
Mirs. TILTON met her at the door and burst into tears, exclaiming:'Oh, Mrs. DAVIS! have you come to see me?  For six
months I have been shut up from the world, and I thought no
one ever would come again to visit me.'  In tlle interview that
followed, Mrs. TILTON spoke freely of a long series of intimate,
and so-called criminal relations, on her part, with the Rev.
HENRY WARD BEECIIER; of the discovery of the facts by Mr.
TILTON; of the abuse she had suffered firom him in consequence,
an(l of her heart-broken condition.   She seemed to allude to
the whole thing as to something already generally known, or
known in a considerable circle, and impossible to be concealed;
and attributed the long absence of Mrs. DAVIS firom the house
to her knowledge of the facts.  She was, as she stated at the
time, recovering firom the effects of a miscarriage of a child of
six months.  The miscarriage was induced by the ill-treatment
of Mr. TILTON in his rage at the discovery of her criminal
intimacy with Mr. BEECHER, and, as he believed, the great
probability, tlhat she was enciente by Mr. BEECHER instead of
himself.  Mrs. TILTON confessed to Mrs. DAVIS the intimacy
with Mr. BEECIHIER, and that it had been of years' standing.
She also said that she had loved Mr. BEECIHER before she
married Mr. TILTON, and that now the burden of her sorrow
was  greatly augmented by the knowledge that Mr. BEECu:ER
was untrue to her.  Sheahad not only to endure the rupture
with her husband, brt also the certainty that, notwithstanding
his repeated assurance of his faithfulness to her, he had recently
26 
ELIZABETH GCADY STANTON.
had illicit intercourse, under most extraordinary circumstances,
with another person. Said Mrs. DAVIS:'I came away from
that house, my soul bowed down with grief at the heart-broken
condition of that poor woman, and I felt that I ought not to
leave Brooklyn until I had stripped the mask from that infamous, hypocritical scoundrel, BEECHER.'   In  May,  after
returning home, Mrs. DAVIs wrote me a letter, from which I
will read a paragraphl to show that we conversed on this subject.'
A LETTER.
" I  DEAR VICTORIA:  I thought of you half of last night, dreamed of
you and prayed for you.
"'' I believe you are raised up of God to do a wonderful work, and I
believe that you will unmask the hypocrisy of a class that none othersdare touch.  God help you and save you.  The more I think of that mass
of Beecher corruption the more I desire its opening.
"''Ever yours, lovingly,
PAULINA WRIGHT DAVIS.
"" PROVIDENCE, R. I., May, 1871."
"Reporteri.-' Did you inform Mrs. DAVIS of your intention
to expose this matter, as she intimates in the letter?'
" Mrs. {f-oo(lhull.-' I said in effect to her, that the matter
would become public, and that I felt that I should be instrumental in making it so.   But I was not decided about the
course I should pursue.   I next heard the whole story from
Mrs. ELIiZABETII CADY STANTON.'
" Reporter.-' Indeed! Is Mrs. STANTON also mixed up in
this affair?  Does she know the facts?  How oould the matter
have been kept so long quiet when so many people are cognizant of it?'
" l]i~s. 11-oodhtlel.-' The existence of the skeleton in the
closet may be very widely known, and many people may have
the key to the terrible secret, but still hesitate to open the door
for the great outside world to gaze in upon it.  This grand
woman did indeed klnow the same facts, and fiom iMr. TILTON
himself.  I shall never forget tie occasion of her first rehearsal
of it to me at my residence, 15 East Thlirty-eig(rhth street, in a
visit made to me during the Apollo Hall Convention in May,
1871. It seems that MR. TILTON, in agony at the discovery
of what hlie deemed his wife's perfidy and his pastor's treachery,
retreated to Mrs. STANTON'S resilence at Tenafly, where he detailed to her the entire story.  Said Mrs. STANTON,'I never
saw such a manifestation of mental agony.  He raved and tore
his hair, and seemed upon the very verge of insanity.'' Oh!'
27
6 
kMRS. TILTON'S INFIDELITY.
said he,'that that damned lecherous scoundrel should have
defiled my bed for ten years, and at the same time have professed to be my best friend!  Hadl he come like a man to me
and confessed his guilt, I could perhaps have endured it, but to
have him creep like a snake intonmy house leaving his pollution
behind him, and I so blind as not to see, and esteeming him
all the while as a saint-oh! it is too much.   And when I think
how for years she, upon whom I had bestowed all my heart's
love, could have lied and deceived me so, I lose all faith in
humanity. I do not believe there is any honor, any truth left
in anybody in the world.'  Mrs. STANTON continued and repeated to me the sadcl story, which it is unnecessary to recite, as
I prefer giving it as Mr. TILTON himself told it me, subsequently, with his own lips.'
"1 Reporter.-' Is it possible that Mr. TILTON confided this
story to you?  It seems too monstrous to be believed!'
"[ Ms. TVooclht(ll.-' He certainly did.  And what is morle, I
am persuaded that in his inmost mind he will not be otherwise
thlan glad when the skeleton in his closet is revealed to the
world, if thereby the abuses which lurkl like vipers under the
cloak of social conservatism may be exposed and the causes
removed.  Mr. TILTON looks deeper into the soul of things than
most men, and is braver than most.'
"Reporter. —' How  did your acquaintance with Mr. TILTON
begin?'
" lklrs.  Wooc1thIll.-' Upon  the information received from
Mrs. DAVIS  and Mrs. STANTO.N I based what 1 said in the
TVeekly, and in the letters in the Tietes and Worldl, referring
to the matter, I was nearly dcletermined-though still not quite
so-that wiat I, equally with those who gave me the information, believed, but for wholly other reasons, to be a most importanlt social circumstance, should be exposed, my  reasons
being, as I have explained to yott, not those of the world, and
I took that method to cause inquiry and create agitation regarding it.  The day that the letter appeared in the Worl1(1 Mr. TILTON came to my office, No. 44 Broad street, and, shlowing me
the letter, aslkedcl:' Whom do you mean by that?'' Mr. TILTON,' said I,' I mean you and Mr. BEECHIER.'  I then told him
what I knew, what I thloulght of it, and that I felt that I had a
mission to bring it to tli knowledge of the world, and( tlhat I
had nearly deterIrnedl to do so.  I said to him imuch else on
the subject; and he said:' Mrs. WOODIIULL, y3ou are tlle first
person I have ever met who has dared to, or else who could,
28 
HER MISSION TO EXPOSE BEECHER.
tell me the truth.'  He acknowledged that the facts, as I had
heard them, were true, but declared that I dlid not yet know
the extent of the depravity of tliat man-meaning Mr. BEECIHER.
'But,' said he,' do not take any steps now.  I have carried
mv heart as a stone in my breast for months, for the sake of
ELIZABETH, my wife, who is broken-hearted as I am.  I have
had courage to endure rather than to add more to her weight
of sorrow.  For her sake I have allowed that rascal to go ulnscathed.  I have curbed my feelings when every impulse urged
me to throttle and strangle him.  Let me take you over to
ELIZABETH, and you will find her in no condition tQ be draggyed
before the public; and I know youL will have compassion on her.'
And I went and saw her, and I agreed with him on the propriety
of delay.'
" Reporter.-' Was it during this interview'that Mr. TILTON
explained to you all that y-ou now know of the matter?'
i'1[rs. Woodh?ll.-' Oh, no.  His  revelations were  made
subsequently at sundry3 times, and dturing months of firiendly
intercourse, as occasion broughl t the subject up.  I will, however, condense his statements to me, and state the facts as he
related them, as consecutively as possible.  I kept notes of the
conversations as they occurred firom time to time, but the matter is so much impressed on my mind that I have no hesitation
in relating them from memory.'
"Reporter.-' Do you not fear that by taking the responsibility of this expose you may involve yourself in trouble?  Even
if all you relate should be true, may not those involved deny it
in toto, even the fact of their having made the statements?'
" Mrs. TVoodhutll.-' I do not fear anything of the sort.  I
know this thing must come out, and the statement of the plain
ungarnishedcl truth will outweigh all the peljuries that can be
invented, if it come to that pass.  I have been charged with
attempts at blackmailing, but I tell you, sir, there is not money
enough in these two cities to purchase nmy silence in this matter.
I believe it is my duty and my mission to carry the torch to
light up and destroy the hleap of rottenness, which, in the name
of religion, marital sanctity, and social purity, now passes as
the social system. I know there are other churches just as
false, other pastors just as recreant to their professed ideas of
morality-by their immorality)you know I mean their hlypocrisy.  I am  glad that just tlis one case comes to me to be
exposed.  This is a grea congregation.  He is a most eminent
man.  When a beacon is fired onl the mountain the little hills
29
0
i 
'WOODHULL A PROPItEiESS.
are lighted up. This exposition will send inquisition through
all the churches and what is termed conservative society.'
"Reporter. —' You speak like some wierd prophetess, madam.'
"I frs.    oodhutll.-' I am a prophetess-I am all evangel-I
am a saviour, if you would but see it; but I too come not to
bring peace, but a sword.'
"Mrs. WVOODHULL then resiumed, saying:' Mr. TILTON first
began to have suspicions of Mr. BEECHER on his own return
firom a long lecturing tour through the West.  He questioned
his little daughter, privately, in his study regarding what had
transpired in his absence.'The tale of iniquitous horror that
was revealed to me was,' he said,' enough to turn the heart of
a stranger to stone, to say nothing of a husband  andl father.'
It was not the fact of the intimacy alone, but in addlition to
that, the terrible orgies-so he said-of which his house had
been made the scene, and the boldness with which matters had
been carried on in the presence of his children-' These things
drove me mad,' said he,'and I went to ELIZABETH and confronted her with the child and the damning tale she had told
me.  My wife did not deny the charge nor attempt any palliation.  She was then enciente, and I felt sure that the child
would not be my child.  I strippedl the wedding ring from her
finger.  I tore the picture of 3Ir. BEECHER firom my wall and
stamped it in pieces.  Indeed, I do not klnowv what I dclid not
do.  I only look back to it as a time too horrible to retain any
exact remembrance of.  She miscarried the child and it was
buried.  For two weeks, night and day, I might have been
found walking to andl firom that grave, in a state bordering on
distraction.  I could not realize the fact that I was what I was.
I stamped the ring with which we had plighted our troth deep
into the soil that covered the fruit of my wife's infidelity. I
had friends, many and firm and good, but I could not go to
them with this grief, and I suppose I shouldl have remained
silent through life had not an occasion arisen which demanded
that I should seek counsel. Mr. BEECHER learned that I had
discovered the fact, and what had transpired between ELIZABETH
and myself, and when I was absent he called at my house and
compelled or induced his victim to sign a statement hlie had
prepared, declaring that so far as he, Mr. BEECHER, was concerned, there was no truth in my charges, and that there had
never beefany criminal itimiacy between them.  Upon learning this, as I did, T felt, of course, again outraged and could
endure secrecy no longer. I had one friend who was like a
0
30 
MR. MOULTON OBTAINS THE LETTER.
brother, 3Ir. FRANLK MOULTON.  I went to him andcl stated the
case fully.  We were both members of Plymouth Churclh.  MIv
firiend took a pistol, went to iMr. BEEcuEi and ldemnandCed the
letter of AMrs. TILTON, under penalty of instant deatlh.'
"Mrs. WOODHULL here remarked that Mr. MOULTON  had
himself, also since, described to her this interview, with all the
piteous and abject beseeching of Mr. BEECHER not to be exposed
to the public.
"' MIr. MIOULTON obtained the letter,' said Mrs. W.,' and
told me that he had it in his safe, where he should keep it until
required for further use.  After this, Mr. TILTON'S house was
no house for him, and he seldom slept or ate there, but fiequeniitedl the house of his friend MIOULTON, who symnpathized
deeply with him.  M[rs. TILTON was also absent days at a time,
and, as MIr. TILTON informed me, seemed bent oln dlestroyingo
her life.  I went as I have said to see her and found her, indeed, a wretched wreck of a woman,  whose troubles were
greater than she could bear.  She made no secret of the facts
before me.  MIr. BEECIER'S selfish, cowardly crutelty in ende'avoring to shield himself and create public opinion against Mr.
TILTON, added poignancy to her anxieties.  She seemed indifferent as to what should become of herself, but labored under
fear that murder might be dclone on her account.
"This was the condition of affairs at the time that Mrt. TILTON came to me.  I attempted to show him the true solution of
the imbroglio, and the folly that it was for a man likle him, a
representative man of the ideas of the future, to stand whlining
over inevitable events connected with this transition ag-e and
the social revolution of which we are in the midst.  I told him
that the fault and the wrong were neither in Mr. BELCIIER, nor
in Mrs. TILTON, nor in himself; but that it was in the false
social institutions under which we still live, while the more
advanced men and women of the world have outgrown them in
spirit; and that, practically, everybody is livinig a false life, )by
professing a conformity which they do not feel and dlo not live,
and which they cannot feel and live any more than the grown
boy can re-enter the clothes of his early childhood.  I recalled
to his attention splendid passages of his own rhetoric, in which
he had unconsciously justified all the freedom that he was now
condemning, when it came hom  to his own door, and endeavoring, in the spirit of a tyrant, to repress.
"'I ridiculed the maudllin senitimaent and mock heroics and
dreadful suzz' he was exhibiting over an event the most nat
31
0 
WOODHULL LECTURES TILTON.
ural in the world, and the most intrinsically innocent; having
in it not a bit more of real criminality than the awfu4 wickedness of negro-stealing' formerly chargedl, in perfect good faith,
by the slaveholders, on every one who helped the escape of a
slave. I assumed at once, and got a sufficient admission, as I
always do in such cases, that he was not exactly a vestal virgin
himself; that his real life was something very different from
the awful  virtue' he was preaching, especially for women, as
if women could' sin' in this matter without men, and men
without women, and which, he p)?etended, even to himself, to
believe in the face and eyes of his own life, and the lives of
nearly all the greatest and best men and women that he knew;
that the' dreadful suzz' was merely a bogus sentimentality,
pumped in his imagination, because our sickly religious literature, and Sunday-school morality, and pulpit pharaseeism had
humbugged him all his life into the belief that he ought to feel
and act in this harlequin and absurd way on such an occasion
-that, in a word, neither SMr. BEECHER nor MIrs. TILTON had
done any wrong, but that it was he who was playing the part
of a fool and a tyrant; that it was he and the factitious or manufactured public opinion back of him, that was wrong; that
this babyish whining and stage-acting were the real absurdity
and disgrace-thel unmanly part of the whole transaction, and
that we only needed another Cervantes to satirize such stuff as
it deserves to squelch it instantly and forever. I tried to show
him that a true manliness would protect and love to protect;
would glory in protecting the absolute fireedom of the woman
who was loved, whether called wife, mistress, or by any other
name, and that the true sense of honor in the future will be,
not to know even what relations our lovers have with any and
all other persons than ourselves-as true courtesy never seeks
to spy over or to pry into other people's private affairs.
"' I believe I succeeded in pointing out to him that his own
life was essentially no better than IMr. BEECHER's, and that he
stood in no position to throw the first stone at Mrs. TILTON or
her reverend paramour.  I showed him again and again that
the wrong point, and the radically wrong thing, if not, indeed,
quite the only wrong thing in the matter, was the idea of ownership i?t human beings, vwhich wuas essentially the same int the two
instituttions of slavery aeiqnarriage.  MIrs. TILTON had in turn
grown increasedly Unhappy when she found that 1ir. BEECHER
had turned some part of his exuberant affections upon some
other object. There was in her, therefore, the same sentiment
t
32 
TILTON BECOMES HER PUPIL.
of the real slaveholder.  Let it be once understood that whosoever is true to himnself or herself is thereby, and necessarily, true
to all others, and the whole social question will be solved.   The
barter anzd sale of wives sta?,(ls oi the sam)ie )orial footing as the
barter atd sale of slaves.   The God-impl)lanted human affections
callnnot, and will not, be any longer subordinated to these external, legal restrictions and conventional engagements.  Every
hutman beini,g belonys to himnself or lhe)self by a higher title tha,?n
a)ty wvhich, by sitr)e-)eitdeis or ae)rra)ige?)eizts o0 p)r-om))ises, he or she
cait co)tfer it)o?  ac)y othe) hut))ttt bei)g.  Self-ozv)wership) is ilnalientable.  These truthtls are the ]latest and greatest discoveries
in true science.
"  Perhaps Mr. BEECHER  iknows and feels all this, and if so,
in that kinowledge consists his sole and his real justification,
only  the wvorld around himn has not yet grovwn to it; institutions
are not yet adapted to it; aind he is not brave enloulgh to bear
his open testilmony to the truthll he knows.
' All this I saidt to Mr. TILTON; and I uriged upon himn to
make this prov-idential circumstance in his life the occasion
upon which lie should, himself, come forward to the front and
stand with the true champions of social freedlon.'
" Repoite)'.-' Then Mr. TILTON became, as it were,  your
)pupil, and you instructecd himi in your theories.'
"isl.  JVoocldhll. —' Yes, I suppose that is a correct statement; and the v-erification of my views, sllpringing up before
my eyes utpon this occasion, out of the vcry mids(St of relioious
and mnoral prejudices, was, I assure you, an interestiing study
for me, a(nd a profound corroboration of the ri(hrlteousness of
what yout call' mn Theories.'  IMr. TILTON'S conduct toward
Mr. BEECIiIR  and toward his wife began firom thlat time to be
so nmagnaiiiouts and grand1 —by which I mIean simply just and
riyhIt —so unlike that which most other men's would lhave been,
that it stampedl him, in imy miind, as one of the noblest souls
that lived, and( one capable of playilng a great role in the social
revolution, vlichl is now so rapidly )progressi,ng.
"'I nev-er could, however, induce himi to stand wholly, and
unreservedly-,  and on principle, upon the free-love  )latflorni;
and I always, therefore, feared that he mighlt for a time vacillate or go b)aclkward.  But he opened his house to Mr. BEECIIER, say'ing to him, in the presence of Mris. TILTON:' You love
each other.   Mr. BEECHEIR, Ihis is a distressed woman; if it
be in your power to al4eviate her cocndition and makle her life
less a burden than it now is, be yours the part to do it.  You
2*
33 
OUR SOCIAL SYSTEM.'
have nothing to fear from me.'  From that time Mr. BEECHER
was, so to speak, the slave of Mr. TILTON and Mr. MOULTON.
He consulted them in every matter of any importance.  It was
at this time that MIr. TILTON introduced IMr. BEECHIER to me,
and I met him frequently both at Mr. TILTON'S and at Mr.
MOULTON'S.  We discussed the social problem freely in all its
varied bearings, and I found that Mr. BEECHER agreed with
nearly all my views upon the question.'
" Reporter.-' Do you mean to say that Mr. BEECHER disapproves of the present marriage system?'
"Mrs.  Woodthull.-' I mean  to say just  this-thlat  3Mr.
BEECHER told m-e that marriage is the grave of love, and that
he never married a couple that he did not feel condemned.'
"1 Rel)orter.-' What excuse did 3Mr. BEECHER give for not
avowing these sentiments publicly?'
" Mrs. Woodhull.-' 011, the moral coward's inevitable exculse-thllat of inexpediency.  HIe said he was twenty years
ahead of his church; that he preached the truth just as fast as
he thought his people could bear it.  I said to him,' Then, MIr.
BEECHER, yOU are dclefrauding your people.  You confess that
you do not preach the truth as you klnowv it, while they pay for
and  persuade  themselves  you  are giv-ing them  your best
thought.'  He replied'I know that our whole social system
is corrupt.  I know that marriage, as it exists to-day, is the
curse of society-.  We  shall never have a better state until
children are begotten and bred on the scientific plan.  Stirpiculture is what we need.'' Then,' said I,' 3Mr. BEECHER, why11
do you not go into your pulpit and preach that science?'  IHe
replied'If I were to do so I should preach to empty seats.
It woull be the ruin of my church.'' Then,' said I,' you are
as big a fraud as any time-serving- preacher, and I now believe -out are all frauds.  I gave you credit for ignorant honesty, but I find you all alike-all trying to hide, or afraid to
speak the truth.  A  sorry pass has this Clhristianl country
come to, paying 40,000 ministers to lie to it from  Sundav to
Sunday, to hide from them the truth that has been given them
to promulgoate.'"
"' ]eporter.-I It seems you took a good deal of pains to
draw Mlr. BEECHER out.'
"MIrs. TVoodhull.-' I did.  I thlought him a man who would
dare a good deal for the tilh, and that, having lived the life
he had, and entertaining the private coivictions he did, I could
perhaps persuade him that it was his true policy to come out
34
0 
SHE D)ISPENSES WITH BEECHER.
and openly avow his principles, and be a thorough consistent
radical, and thus justify his life in some measure, if not wholly,
to the public.'
"Reporite.-' Was  Mr. BEECIIER aware that you knew of
his relations to Mrs. TILTON?'
"Mrs.  Woodhull.-' Of course he was.  It was because that
I knew of them that le first consented to meet me. Hle could
never receive me until he knew that I was aware of the real
character he wore under the mask of his reputation. Is it not
remarkable how a little knowledge of this sort brings down the
most top-lofty from the stilts on which they lift themselves
above the common level?'
"Reporter.-' Do you still regard Mr. BEECHIER as a moral
coward?'
"Mers.  Woodhull.-' I have found him destitute of moral
courage enough to meet this tremendous demand upon him. In
minor things, I know that he has manifested courage.  IIe
could not be induced to take the bold step I dclemanded of him,
simply for the sake of truth and righteousness.   I did not
entirely despair ot him  until about a year ago.   I was then
contemplating my Steinway hIall speech on Social Freedom, and
prepared it in the hope of beiing able to persuade Mr. BEECIIER
to preside for me, and thus malike a way for himself into a consistent life on the radical platform. I made my speech as soft
as I conscientiously could.  I toned it down in order that it
might not frighten him.  When it was in type, I went to his study
and gave him a copy and asked him to read it carefully and
glive me his candid opinion concerning it.  MAeantime, I had
told Mr. TILTON and iMr. MOULTON that I was going to ask Mr.
BEECHiER to preside, and they agreed to press the matter with
him.  I explained to them that the only safety lie had was in
coming out as soon as possible an advocate of social fireedom,
and thus palliate, if he could not completely justify, his practices by founding them at least on principle.  I told them that
this introduction of me would  bridge the way.   Both the
gentlemen agreed with me in this view, and I was for a time
almost sure that my desire would be accomplished.  A few
days before the lecture, I sent a note to Mr. BEECHER asking
him to preside for me.  This alarmed him.  He went with it to
Messrs. TILTON and MOULTON asking advice.  They gave it in
the affirmative, telling him the  considered it eminently fitting
that he should pursue thre course indicated by me as his only
safety; but it was not urged in such a way as to indicate that
35
0 
STEINWAY HALL MEETING.
they had known the request was to have been made. Matters
remained undecided until the day of the lecture, when I went
over again to press Mr. BEECHER to a decision.  I had then a
long private interview with him, urging all the arguments I
could to induce him to consent   He said hlie agreed perfectly
with what I was to say, but that he could not stand on the
platform of Steinway Hall and introduce me.  He  said,'I
should sink through the floor.  I am a moral coward on this
subject, and I know it, and I am not fit to stand by you, who
go there to speak what you know to be the truth; I should
stand there a living lie.'  He got upon the sofa on his knees
beside me, and taking my face between his lhands, while the
tears streamed down his cheekls, begge(l me to let him off.  Becoming thloroughlly disguste(l with what seemed to me pusilanimity, I left the room under the control of a feeling of contempt
for the man, and reported to my firiends what lie had said.
They then took me again with them and end(leavored to persuade him.  Mr. TILTON said to him:' Mr. BEECIIER, some
day you have got to fall; go and introduce this woman and
win the radicals of the country, anl(l it will break your fall.'
' Do you thinkil,' said BEECIHER,' that this thing will come out
to the world?'  Mr. TILTON replied:' Nothing is more certain
in earth or heaven, Mr. BEECIIER; and this may be your last
chance to save yourself from complete ruin."
"' Mr. BEECHER replied:' I can never endure such a terror.
Oh! if it must come, let me know of it twventy-four hours in
advance, that I may take my own life.  I cannot, cannot face
this thing!'
"'Thoioughly out of all patience, I turned on my heel and
said:'Mr. BEECHER, if I amn compelled to go upon that platform alone, I shall begin by telling the aud(ience why I am
alone, and why you are not with me,' and I again left the room.
I afterward learned that Mr. BEECIIER, frightened at what I
had said, promised, before parting with Mr. TILTON, that he
would preside if he could bring his courage up to the terrible
ordeal.
"  It was four minutes of the time for me to go forward to
the platform at Steinway Hall when Mr. TILTON and Mr.
MOULTON came into the ante-room asking for Mr. BEECIIIR.
When I told them lie had not come they expressed astonishment.  I told them I sluld faithfuilly keep my word, let the
consequences  be that they might.  At that moment word
was sent me that there was an orrganized attempt to break up
36
0 
CLERGY AiVD EDITORS ARE BiGOTS.
the meeting, and that threats were being made against my life
if I dared to speak what it was understood I intended to sl)ek.
Mr. TILTON then insisted on going on the platform with me
and presiding, to which I finally agreed, and that I should not
at that time mention Mir. BEECIIER.  I shall never forget the
brave words he uttered in introducing me.. They had a magic
influence on the audience, and drew the sting of those who
intended to harmn me.  However much Mr. TILTON may have
since regrettedcl his course regarding me, and whatever lhe may
say about it, I shall always admire the moral courage that enabled
him to stand with me on that platformn, and face that, in part, defiant audience.  It is hard to bear the criticisms of vulgar minds,
who can see in social freedom  nothing but licentiousness and
debauchery, and the inevitable misrel)resentation of the entire
press, which is as perfectly subsidized against reason and common sense, when social subjects are dcliscussed, as is the religious press when any other science is discussed which is supposed
to militate against the Bible as the direct word of God to man.
The editors are equally bigots, or else as dishonest as the
clergy.  The nightmare of a public opinion, which they are
still professionally engaged in miaking, enslaves and condemns
them both.'
"'Irs. AVOODITULL concluded by saying that since her Steinway Hall specchi slie had surrendered all hope of easing the
fall of Mr. BEECInIE, that she had not attempted to see him,
and had not in fact seen him.  Sllhe only added one other fact,
vwhichl was, that Nir. Bl, ECIIER endeavored to induce MIr. TILTON to withdraw frion his membership in Plymouthl Church,
to leave him, Air. BEECIIER, free from  the embarrassment of
his presence there; and that MIr. TILTON had indignilantly
rejected the proposition, determined to hold the position with
a view to such contingencies as mii}lt subsequently occur.
" So much for the interviewing which was to have been publishcd some months ago; but when it failed or was suppressed,
I was still so far undecided that I took no steps in the matter,
and had no definite plan for the future in lrespect to it, until
the events as I have recited tlhemn, which occurred at Boston.
Since tlhen I have not doubted that I must make up my mind
dlefinitely  to act agoressarily in this matter, and to use the
facts in my knowledlge to compel a more wide-spread discussion of the social question.  ~ take the step deliberately, as an
ag(itator and social re;olutionist, which is my  profession.  I
commit no breach of confidence, as no confidences have been
37
0 
38     BEECHER A POWER IN THE WORLD.
made to me, except as I have compelled them, with a full
knowledge that I was endeavoring to induce or force the
parties to come to the front along with me in the announcement and advocacy of the principles of social revolution.
Messrs. BEECHER and TILTON, and other half-way reformers,
are to me like the border States inll the great rebellion. They
are liable to fall, with the weight of their influence, on either
side in the contest, and I hold it to be legitimate generalship
to compel them to declare on the side of truth and progress.
"My position is justly analogous with that of warfare.  The
public, Mr. BEECHER included, would gladly crush me if they
could-will do so if they can-to prevent me from forcing on
them considerations of the utmost importance. My mission
is, on the other hand, to utter the unpopular truth, and make
it efficient by whatsoever legitimate means; and means are
legitimate as a war measure, which would be highly reprehensible in a state of peace. I believe, as the law of peace, in the
right of privacy, in the sanctity of individual relations. It is
nobody's business but their own, in the absolute view, what
Mr. BEECHER and Mrs. TILTON have done, or may choose at
any time to do, as between themselves. And the world needs,
too, to be taught just that lesson. I am the champion of that
very right of privacy and of individual sovereignty. But, that
is only one side of the case.  I need, and the world needs, Mr.
BEECHER'S powerful championship of this very right. The
world is on the very crisis of its final fight for liberty. The
victory may fall on the wrong side, and his own liberty and
mine, and the world's, be again crushed out, or repressed for
another century for the want of fidelity in him to the new
truth.  It is not, therefore, Mr. BEECHER as the individual that
I pursue, but Mr. BEEcHiER as the representative man;  Mr.
BEECHER as a power in the world;  and Mr. BEEcHER as my
auxiliary in a great war for freedom, or Mr. BEECHER as a violent enemy and a powerful hindrance to all that I am bent on
accomplishing.
"To Mr. BEECHER, as the individual citizen, I tender, therefore, my humble apology, meaning and deeply feeling what I
say, for this or any interference on my part, with his private
conduct. I hold that Mr. TILTON himself, that Mrs. BEF,CHER
herself, have no more riglt to inquire, or to know or to spy
over, with a view to knowing, what has transpired between Mr.
BEECHER and Mrs. MILTON than they have to know what I ate
for breakfast, or where I shall spend my next evening; and 
PARADOX OF LIFE.
that Mr. BEECHER'S congregation and the public at large have
just as little right to know or to inquire. I hold that the socalled morality of society is a complicated mass of sheer impertinence and a scandal on the civilization of this advanced centutry, that the system of social espionage under which we live
is damnable, and that the very first axiom of a true morality,
is for the people to wiind their own business, and learn to respect,
religiously, the social freedom and the sacred social privacy of
all others; but it was the paradox of Christ, that as the Prince
of Peace, he still brougtht on earth, not peace but a sword.  It
is the paradox of life that, in order to have peace, we must first
have war; and it is the paradox of my position that, believing
in the right of privacy and in the perfect right of Mr. BEECHER
socially, morally and divinely to have sought the embraces of
Mirs. TILTON, or of any other woman or women whom he loved
and who loved him, and being a promulgator and a public champion of those very rights, I still invade the most secret and
sacred affairs of his life, and drag them to the light and expose
him to the opprobrium and vilification of the public.  I do again,
and with deep sincerity, ask his forgiveness.   But the case is
exceptional, and what I do, I do for a great purpose. The
social world is in the very agony of its new birth, or, to resume
the warlike simile, the leaders of progress are in the very act
of storming the last fortress of bigotry and error. Somebody
must be hurled forward into the gap.  I have  the power, I
think, to compel Mr. BEECHER to go forward and to do the
duty for humanity from which he shrinks; and I should, myself, be false to the truth if I were to shrink from compelling
him.  Whether he sinks or swims in the fiery trial, the agitation by which truth is evolved will have been promoted. And
I believe that lie will not only survive, but that when forced to
the encounter he will rise to the full height of the great enterprise, and will astound and convince the world of the new gospel of fireedom, by the depth of his experiences and the force
of his argumoent.
"The  world, it seems, will never learn not to crucify its
Christs, and not to compel the retractation of its Galileos.  Mr.
BEECHER has lacked the coutrage to be a martyr, but, like Galileo, while retracting, or concealing and evading, he has known
in his heart that the world still soves; and I venture to prophesy, as I have indeed full faiti, that he and the other parties
to this social drama will yet live to be overwhelmed with gratitude to me for having compelled themn to this publicity.  The
39 
CLAMOR OF GR UNDF Y.
age is pregnant with great events, and this may be the very
one which shall be, as it were, the crack of doom to our old
and worn out, and false and hypocritical social institutions.
When the few first waves of public ind(lignation shall have
broken over him, when the nine days' wonder and the astonished clamor of Mrs. Grundy shall have done their worst, andl
when the pious ejaculations of the sanctimonious shall have
been expended, and he finds that he still lives, and that there
are brave souls who stand by him, he will, I believe, rise in his
power and utter the whole truth.  I believe I see clearly and
prophetically for him in the future a work a hundred times
greater than all he has accomplished in the past. I believe,
as I have said, a wise Providence, or, as I term it, and believe
it to be, the conscious and well calculated interference of the
spirit world, has forecast and prepared those very events as a
part of the drama of this great social revolution. Of all the
centres of influence on the great broad planet, the destiny that
shapes our ends, bent on breaking up an old civilization and
ushering in a new one, could have found no such spot for its
vantage ground as Plymouth Church, no such man for the hero
of the plot as its reverend pastor, and, it may be, no such heroine as the gentle cultured, and, perhaps, hereafter to be sainted
wife of Plymoith Chulrch's most distinguished layman.  Indeed
I think that Mrs. TILTON hlas had, at least at times, a clearer
intuition guiding her, a better sense of right, and more courage
than her  reverend lover; for, on one occasion, Mr. TILTON told
me that he took home to her one of my threatening notices, and
told her that that meant her and Mr. BEECIIER, and that the
exposure must and would come; and he added that she calmly
replied:  I I am prepared for it.  If the new social gospel must
have its martyrs, and if I must be one of them, I am prepared
for it.'
" In conclusion, let us ag(ain consider, for a moment, the
right and the wrong of this whole transaction.   Let us see
whether the wrong is not on the side where the public puts the
right, and the right on the side where the public puts  the
wrong.  The immense physical potency of Air. BEEcIIER, and
the indomitaible urgency of his great nature for the intimacy
and the embraces of tlhe nobl)le and cultured women about him,
instead of being a bad thing as the world thinks, or thinks
that it thinks, or professes to think that it thinks, is one of the
noblest and grande'st of the endowments of this truly great and
representative man.  The amative impulse is the physiological
0
40 
THE GREAT PREACHER'S MAGN}ETISM.
basis of character. It is this which emanates zest and magnetic power to his whole audience through the organism of the
great preacher.  Plymouth Church has lived and fed, and the
healthy vigor of public opinion for the last quarter of a century
has been augmented and strengthlened from the physical amativeness of HENRY WARD BEECHER. Tile scientific world know
the physiological facts of this nature, but they have waited for a
weak woman to have the moral courage to tell the world such
truths.   Passional starvation, enforced on such a nature, so
richly endowed, by the ignorance and prejudice of the past, is
a horrid cruelty.   The  bigoted public, to which the great
preacher ministered, while literally eating and drinking of his
flesh and blood, condemned him, in their ignorance, to live
without food.  Every great man of Mr. BEECHER'S type has
had, in the past, and will ever have, the need for, and the right
to, the loving manifestations of many women, and when the
public graduates out of the ignorance and prejudice of its
chllildhood, it will recognize this necessity and its own past injustice. Mr. BEECHEn'S grand and amative nature is not, then,
the bad element in the whole matter, but intrinsically a good
thing, and one of God's best gifts to the world.
So again, the tender, loving, womanly concessiveness of
Mrs. TILTON, her susceptibility to the charm of the great
preacher's magnetism, her love of loving and of being loved,
none of these were the bad thing which the world thinks them,
or thinks that it thinks them, or professes to think that it
thinks them to be. On the contrary they are all of them the
best thing —the best and most beautiful of things, the loveliest
and most divine of things which belong to the patrimony of
mankind.
"So again, it was not the coming together of these two
loving natures in the most intimate embrace, nor was it, that
nature blessed that embrace with the natural fruits of love
which was the bad element in this whole transaction. They,
on the contrary, were good elements, beautiful and divine
elements, and among God's best things for man.
The evil and the whole evil in this whole matter, then, lies
elsewhere. It lies in a false and artificial or manufactured
opinion, in respect to this very question of what is good or
what is evil in such matters. LIt lies in the belief that society
has the right to prohibit, to prescribe and regulate, or in any
manner to interfere with the private love manifestations of its
members, any more than it has to prescribe their food and
f
41 
JMRS. ISABELLA HOOKER.
their drink.  It lies in the belief consequent upon this, that
lovers own their lovers, husbands their wives and( wives their
husbands, and that they have the right to complain of, to spy
over, and to interfere, even to the extent of murder, with every
other or outside manifestation of love.  It lies in the cotmptlsory hypocrisy and systematic falsehood which is thus enforced
and inwroulght into the very structure of society, and in the
consequent and wide-spread injury to the whole community.
"' Mr. BEECHER knows all this, and if by my act he is compelled to tell the world that he knows it, and to force them to
the conviction that it is all true, he may well thank God that I
live, and that circumstances have concurred to emancipate him,
despite of himself, from his terrible thralldom, and to emancipate, through him, in the filture, millions of others.
" Still in conclusion, let me add, that in my view, and in the
view of others who think with me, and of all, as I believe,
who think rightly on the subject, Mr. BEECHiER is to-day, and
after all that I have felt called upon to reveal of his life, as
good, as pure and as noble a man as he ever was in the past,
or as the world has held him to be, and that Mrs. TILTON is
still the pure, charming,, cultured woman.   It is, then, the
public opinion that is wrong, andl not  the individuals, who
must, nevertliheless, for a time suffer its persecution.
"Mrs. ISABELLA BEECHER HOOKER has, from the time that I
met her in Washington, stood my fast friend, and given me
manifold proofs of her esteem, knowing, as she did, both my
radical opinions and my free life.   I have been told, not by
her, but upon what I believe to be perfectly good  authority,
that she has for months, perhaps for years past, known the life
of her brother, and urged on him to announce publicly his
radical convictions, and assured him that if hlie would do so
she, at least, would stand by him. I know, too, by intimate
intercourse, the opinions, and, to a great extent, the lives of
nearly all the leading reformatory men and women in the land;
and I know that Mr. BEEcHER, passing through this crucial
ordeal, retrievingo himself and standing upon the most radical
platform, need not stand alone for an hour, but that an army
of glorious and emancipated spirits will gather spontaneously
and instantaneously around him, and that the new social republic will have been forever established.
VICTORIA C. WOODHULL."
42
0 - 
G. H. BEECHER'S LETTER.'
As Mrs. Hooker's name appears frequently in this work, we
may state that during the excitement attending the labors of
the Committee,  G. H. Beecher wrote a letter to the Brooklyn
Eagle in which he says:  On the occasion of Mrs. Hooker's visit to New York, and threatened
invasion of Plymouth pulpit, (it was at the time of the funeral of Horace
Greeley), Dr. Edward Beecher called to see her in New York, and as he
can testify, she did not pretend to have evidence from Mrs.'Tilton nor
from MAr. Beecher, except that he refused to deny the charge and talk with
her about it, (the course which, with few exceptions, he pursued with every
one), but her sole reliance was upon the testimony of Mrs. Woodhull,
Mirs. Stanton and Miss Anthony.  Upon this testimony, coupled with the
refusal of her brother to discuss the subject with her, she based her belief
of his guilt, and wished to ascend Plymouth pulpit and read a confession
which she had prepared for him, to the Plymouth people, and then she
would plead in his behalf. She also desired that he would place himself
at the head of a new woman's movement, and she would stand by and uphold him. Far be it from me to speak against this loving sister; for her
letters, several of which I have read, breathe the tenderest, noblest sympathy and love toward her brother, and if ever they are published they
will touch the hearts of all in this respect.  Her views on the marriage relation are somewhat similar to those of Mrs. Woodhull, though not so
gross. She does not believe in promiscuous free love as does Mrs. Woodhull, but the law should not bind man and wife together when they have
ceased to love one another. She also believes that having separated on
such grounds, they should be at liberty to marry again if they find mates
that they truly love. She was devotedly attached to Mrs. Woodlhull, and
has never withdrawn from her.  The  strange fascination which this remarkable woman possessed over her is evinced, among other things, by the
letter which she wrote to Mrs. Woodhull, about the time of her inomination by the free love wing of the Woman's Suffrage Convention as candidate for the Presidency of the United States, commencing as follows:"My darling Queen," and proceeding in the same rhapsodical language.
I wish the letter could be reproduced. It was published in the papers at
the time.  In her interview with her brother Edward she seemed in a wild
and excited state of mind. The interview of Henry with her, as hlie stated
to his brother, was to soothe and quiet her and induce her to return home.
He said he refused for her sake to enter upon the subject, and his refusal
to deny the stories, or say anything about them, was because if lie did so it
would bring up the whole subject fq discussion between them, and she
would bring forward her evidence from these women, which lie could not
enter into or explain without making her a confidant of the whole matter,
and, as she was in constant communication with these women, he did not
judge it best for him to do so in any shage or manner.
43 
THEODORE PARKER.
14 RINC,GOLD ST. PROVIDENCE, R. I.}
September 16, 1872.
My DEAR VICTORIA:
My husband and myself called on Friday evening, accompanied by Mrs.
Colonel Pope, of Harrison street, on 3s. J. H. Conant, and found her at
home; Dr. Pyke was with her.  He, the doctor, entered into conversation
with me concerning your attack upon Bccchcr, as he termed it, which I defended, whereupon Theodore Parker controlled Mirs. Conant, and spoke in
substance as follows:
"When Henry Ward Beecher, knowing spiritualism to be true, stood in his
own pulpit and denounced it as'one of the most dangerous humbugs of the
day,' the spirit world felt that it had pleaded and borne with him long enough,
and that they would unmask and show him to the world a hypocrite as he is.
This it has done, and it mattered little whether Mrs. Conant, Victoria Woodhull or Laura Cuppy Smith was the instrument used. The spirit world has
not yet completed its work. Other canting hypocrites remain to be proclaimed
to the public in their true colors, and the Scripture shall be verified,' There is
nothing secret that shall not be made known, nothing hidden that shall not be
revealed.' If I could have divested my medium of the ianuence of personas in
the formn I should have proclaimed this through her lips on the platform of
John A. Andrews' hall on Wednesday afternoon."
"I think I have given you Theodore Parker's words verbatim.
The same evening I was conversing with E. B. Beckwith, a prominent
lawyer of Boston, who remarked that there seemed to him to be a retribution
following the Beechers, and that you could use in your own behalf the same
argument in vindication of your exposure of Beecher that Mrs. Stowe and her
family had used in her defence with iegard to the Byron afftiir, with this addition, that you had not accused the living, who could defend themselves, of
half so base a crime as she had laid to the charge of the poet and a sister
woman, the dead who could not reply.  I thought the suggestion too good to
be lost, shall use it myself freely, and send it to you.
LAUrA Currppy SMITH.
The publication of this article, as may well be supposed,
struck everybody, who was not familiar with the cool audacity
of tle author of it, with astonishment.  The paper was in
great demand, and within a few hours not a copy could be
obtained, except at exhorbitant prices.  The author, the following day, paid two dollars for a copy, from  which the
above is extracted, and as highl as ten dollars were paid for
copies.  In Brooklyn, and especially among the congregation
44
6 
CONSTERNA TION IN PL YMO UTEH CHURCH.
of Plymouth Church, the most alarming consternation was
caused by it, and, as a matter of course, gossip became at once
busy with the names of the Plymouth pastor and some ladies
of the congregation to whom Mr. Beecher had shown little
attentions. The public outside of the church directly affected,
had come to look upon the "female brokers" as blackmailers
who would not stop at any unscrupulous means, nor spare the
most sacred hearthstones, to secure money, and the press very
generally ignored it as a nasty scandal, unfit to be even referred to.
But when Mrs. Woodhull reiterated the scandal in her paper
and on the platform, people began to enquire:  "Why does not Ma. Beecher cause the arrest of these vile
women?"
But he still remained silent, and still retained the confidence
of the people who had so long loved him for his nobleness of
character and spotless life. A little later, however, when,
through the instrumentality of Anthony Comstock, of the
Young Men's Christian Association, the women were arrested
for circulating obscene literature, their -office and paper confiscated, and leading friends of Mr. Beecher appeared as prosecuting counsel, suspicions were aroused that there was something in the story after all, and that Plymouth Church was
stationed in the shadow of the Criminal Court, to prosecute them. Sympathy was enlisted in their behalf, and as
will be seen by a reference to the trial, in another part of this
work, the "brokers" were acquitted.
45
0
0 
CHAPTER II.
'THE REPUBLIC THREATENED!-THE BEECHER-TILTON SCAN  DAL AND THE BEECHER-BOWEN-COMSTOCK CONSPIRACY THIE SEAL BROKEN AT LAST-WOODIIULL'S'LIES' AND
THEODORE TILTON'S'TRUE STORY'-THE ACCOUNT HOR RIBLE AT BEST-' NO OBSCENITY,' BUT GOD'S TtUTII-THE
THUNDERBOLT SHATTERS A BAD CROWD AND PLOUGHS UP
THE WHOLE GROUND."
HE arrest of the brokers and the suppression of their paper,
however, did not deter them from their warfare upon
Mr. Beecher, and society generally, which did not accept of
them as the true teachers of a new social system. Theodore
Tilton, it is believed, himself added fuel to the flame by
spreading broadcast among his friends his version of the case.
The publication of Woodhull's charges, however, was a mere
bombshell, compared with what was to follow.  The  community had now become excited,-so much so, that people eagerly
read everything published on the subject-and in May following there was issued simultaneously in Albany, Troy and New
York a review of the case in a paper called The Thlundlerbolt,
established by Edward H. G. Clark, editor of the Troy I 7ig,
for the special purpose of exposing the Plymouth pastor to
greater shame. In the editorial accompanying the statement
the editor says:  "This is a special pape  issued to defy conspirators, beat
free speech, and rouse a nation.  It will be l)plblishled as occasion may demand.  *  *  *  As a miere scandal the affairs of
46
16 
THE THUINDERBOLT.
Mr. BEECHER would be of no consequence. But the terrible
violations of justice and law that have grown out of that scandal, make it the most momentous question of American rights
since the days of Garrison and the abolitionists. And this
alone is the interest in it held by Mr, EDWARD G. H. CLARK,
the writer of our leading article-[The True Story-AUTHIOR]
and one of the editors of the  Thunderbolt.  *  *  *  Mr.
CLARK has, therefore, assumed by name the direct responsibility of his article. He is too well known among Mr. Beecher's
own friends to be cha;nged with any nonsense of'black-mail,'
and he is ready to step into court and prove his assertions, if
any onie dares to take him there."
This publication, introduced as above to the public really
proved what its name implied. It was a Thunderbolt-a discharge of red-hot shot upon the Plymouth Church,-yet, to this
day, no one has acceplted Vr. Clark's challenge to take him into
court, and compel hia to prove his accusations!  It was generally believed that this volley was discharged by Mr. Tilton, and
although he has frequently been accused of its authorship, he
has not publicly denied it. It is "The True Story," often referred to in the discussion of the great case. But we will proceed to give the "True Story" to the reader.
It may be stated in this connection that the headings to this
chapter are those attached to the original article, as it appeared in The Thunderbolt, and not those of the author:  "Christianity is the highest world of civilization, and the
spirit of Jesus is the true Religion of humanity.  But to-day
the orthodox pulpit is a menace to forty millions of people.
To save one powerful preacher fi'om deserved shame its retainers
have raped the goddess of American liblerty-.  And to accomplish this outrage they have resorted to fraud, and have not
scrupled at a monstrous conspiracy.'Tis the purpose of this
paper, the Tthunderbolt, to stun the nation into a knowledge of
these crimes. The'Evangelical Churchll' with its Young
Mens Christian Association, shall no longer cheat the government, brow-beat the courts and subsidize the press, with impunity.  When a republic is crucied between its priests and its
editors, honest patriots should speak out. It is time that
theological plotters be thrown upon the defensive, and be made
47
4 
TRUTH AND A FALSEHOOD.
to beg of common sense a further lease of their own life. The
Thunderbolt has power to effect much of this purpose through
the very' forbidden fruit' that has tempted the present quacks
of conventional piety to become  liars, perjurers and law-breakers.   By  this  forbidden  fruit,  I  mean  the  Greatest  Social
Drama of modern times, The BE~ECIER-TILTON Scandal!  This
scandal as reported by VICTORIA C. WOODHULL is at once truth
and a falsehood; or as THEODORE TILTON has himself explained,
a'true story' underlies the false one.   Three months after tlhe
WOODHULL account had been published, and no one had given
the public a, direct, authentic denial of it-three months after
the  country  had been  insulted in connection  with it by the
moral and legal fraud of obscene literature, I was  stung into
writing  a full account, analysis and criticism, of the BEECIIER
and TILTON  scandal.   In  that article  (published in the  Troy
Daily Press of February 11th, and since reproduced in other
journals), the WOODHULL account was given inl condensed form
as follows:
"' The BEECHER-TILTON scandal case,' is this, Mrs. WOODnULL declares there
has been a long, continued liaison between IMr. BEECHER and MArs. TILTON;
that it first cante to Mr. TILTON'S klnowledge through the revelation of one of
his children; that he accused Mrs. TILTON of it, and received her ackuowledgment of her guilt; that he was driven nearly to insanity at the moment a(l
treated Mrs. TILTON SO severely that she miscarried a child, which was considered tlhe off.spring of Mr. BEECIIFR.  MIr. TLTON kept his grief secret, however
as Mrs. AVOODIIIULL asserts, until MAr. BEECIIER went again to hlis houlse during
his absence, and extorted a, letter from Mrs. TILTON to the effect that he had
never been guliity of the wrong she had ackiiowlcdged to her husband.  Then
Mr. TILTON doubly outraged, conlfided his g,,rief to a, bosom friend, Mr. FRANK
MOULTON, who went to BEECIIER'S house and forced him at the mouth of a
pistol to give up the letter.  This story, in whole or in part Mrs. WOODHULL
says was first revealed to her by Mrs. PAULI.NA WRIGHT DAvIS, who received
it from Mrs. TILTON and then by Mrs. ELIZAHET! C,ADY STANTON, who received it
from Mr. TILTON.  The knowledge of it came to Mrs. WOODHULL in the early
part of 1870, and she refers to an allusion which she made to it in IVoodhzll
and Claflin's lick-ly at that time.' Subsequently,' continues Mrs. WOOI)IIULi., I
published a letter in both IVorld and Times in which was the follbwing sentence:
"  I know a clergyman of eminence in Brooklyn, who lives in concubinage
withl the wife of another clerg)wan of equal eminence.' Mrs. WOOIIULL affirms
that the day when thliisctter appeared in the IVorll, Mr. TILTON came to her
office, No. 44 Broad St., and showing Mrs. WOODHULL the letter, asked her
48
0 
A BOMIB SHELL.
whom  she meant.'3ir. TILTON,' she replied,'I mean you and Mr. BEECHER.'
According to Mrs. WOODInIULL'S statement, Mr. TILTON then acknowledged that
the account was truc and worse than she had heard it. But he said that he
was broken-hearted and his wife was broken-hearted, and that she especially
was then in no condition to be dragged before the public. Mr. TILTON took
her to see Mrs. TILTOX-, and both imparted to her the whole story.  The same
thing was again detailed to her by Mr. TILTON'S friend, Mr. FRANK MOULTON,
and finally by IIENRY WARD BEECIIER himself.
"SIrs. WOODHULL's  declared purpose in  publishing  the
BEECHER-TILTON Scandal   was to create a' Social Revolution.'
She wished to show that the foremost minds of the age had outgrown the institution of marriag,e rendering to it only the outward homage of hy-pocrites, not the adherence of conscience or
the practice of life.  There is no danger thlat any social revolution will grow to proportions b*yond the actual truth  and
comiiion-scllse contained ill it.  But in one thiin,g WVOODIHULL &
CLAFLIN instantly succeeded: they created a social panic that
turned Nevw  York into a mob.  Their scandal, as they have
since boasted(l, was indeedl' a bombshell' that carriedt dismay on
every hand an infernal machine of letters so terrifie that many
even feared to readl it,' while others cursed and pr-aye(l, lauighed
and cried as if in the presence of tlle' crack of doom.'
" The 1)lans of this Social Revolution it seems were somewhat
deel)ly- laid.  The issue of  I,Ioo(dhtll and  Cl(flin's   l eekly
containingr th    e bombshell was d(ated Nov. 2(1 1872.  But anticipatilng that some steps mig(rlt be talken to suppress  tilhe entire
issue when its contents should become known, the paper was
dispatched to its subscribers a week in advance, and, (if the
word of its social revolutionist" can be trustedc in anything) to
the entire list of newspapers in the United States, Canada and
Great Britain."  Then on Mionday morning the 28thl of October it was l)put on sale at tlle WVOODIU,L headquarters. I3efore
night the demand g,rew to  a rush."  I)uring the  weekl  it
increased to a crush cce(liing even the regulation of the police.
'Tis said thle sales reaclhe(l a hundred and fifty thousand copies,
and p)romised two mnillions.  For several days newsmen retailed
thec l)aper as hilgh as fifty cents.  On the day of its suppression
two dollars and a-half was  a common  price for it.  In some
insta,ices single copies brought ten dollars and one extraordinary lover of literature is reported to have invested forty dollars
in a copy.  Owners of the paper then leased it to other readers
at a dollar a d(lay.'
3
49
0 
A CONSPIRACY.'
"But 1)3- Satrday Nov. 2d the general panic of good society
in New York had so far sublside(l that some steps were indeed
taklen and with a vengeance to suppress the BEECIIER-TILTON
scandal.  An(l'tis these steps alone that make the scandal of
sufficient importance to claim the interference of persons' in
no way connected with it, and to ilee(l the unfalterilg scrutiny
of the public.'  These' steps,' then were nothling less than a
d(laring conspiracy not merely against the audacious and hated
women WOODIIILL and CLAFLIN, but against the whole people
of the United States.  In no other terms will I ever consent to
describe that bastard New York monstrosity, begotten of lust,
fear and guilt-the arrest  of WOODIIULL and CLAFLIN for
publishing obscene literature.'
"If I had myself been situated like THEFODORE TILTON on the
day of that arrest, and the darlings of my household had been
so cruelly belied as his true story claims of his own, 1 don't
know but I could have gone into Broad St. and cut the throats
of WOODIIULL, CLAFLIN and BLOOD, with as little compunction
as I would shoot a mad (log.  But that would have been a business and a risk confined to three or four persons.  It would
not have been a national fraud endangering every great princip)le at the bottom of human liberty.  The special firiends however, of IIENRY WARD  BEECIIIER the skulkers of Plymouth
Church and the Young fIenl's Clhristian Association-preferred
to d(leflour the laws of their country and the fireedom of its people by a gigantic performance of bigotry and chicanery.  In the
shadow of their false pretences, the WOODIIULL slanders, however atrocious have grown comparatively dim and insignificant.
The question of the mere rake, whom the moralist might pity
and forgive, sinks in the  question of the conspirator and
traitor, whom the patriot must hate.'
"A law of the United States passed June 8. 1872 makes  a
very proper provision in aid of public morals by branding the
transmission of obscene literature through the mails as a misdemeanor.  The act is this:
"' No obscene book, pamphlet, picture, print, or other publication of a vulgar or indecent character, or any letter upon the envelope of which, or postal
card upon which, scurrilous epithets may have been written or printed, or
disloyal devices printed or engrossed, shall be carried in the mail; and allny
person who shall knowingly deposit, or cause to be deposited, for mailing or
delivery, any such  obscene pumication shall be  deemed guilty of a  misdemeanor, and on conviction thereof shall for any such offence be fined not
50 
PURPOSE OF TIE P UBLIC'ATION.
more than five hundred dollars, or be imprisoned at hard labor not exceeding
one year, or both, at the discretion of the courts.'
"Whatever sins WOODHULL and CLAFLIN had committed in
issuing their WEeekly of Nov.  2d1, 1872, they had carefully
avoided any violation of this statute against obscene literature.
Their paper contained at harrowing account of seduction-an
instance of such diabolical heartlessness that the noted philanthlropist, PARKER PILLS1URY, has since declared that if its revelations were true,' no matter though Mrs. Woodhull were an
imp of hlell, she should have a monument of polished Parian
mn arble    as hill as Trinity steeple, and every father and mother
of dauglhters should be proud to contribute a stone.'  In addition to that nightmare of horrors the paper contained several
bold articles on social, religious and( financial themes, in the
midst of which was tile BEECIER-TILTON Scand(al-a sad(l, unexpected story of adultery, but differing little in its detail from
scores of such stories repo,'ted in hundreds of newspapers.
There is only one test of obscene literature-thle purpose of the
publication; an(l any other test a free people should resent, if
necessary, with battle and blood.  Any other test would overturn the Bible, destroy the classics, and excludle pllhysiology
from human knowle(dge.  It would insult the grave of every
great thinker and poet, from Plato to Shakspeare and Burns.
It would steal the bread and'neat of letters, and leave only
the baby sugar-tits of a Sunday school library.  The purpose
of obscene literature is to pamper lust, and no fact, no fiction
is olbscene without this purpose.  But the expressed intent of
the WOODIULL articles was to destroy lust, and whether this
intent was real or feigned, the articles were so written as almost
to stop the breath and fireeze the soul.  In a word, they were
glnastly, sickening libels if false, but no more  obscene than a'
picture of the crucifixion.
"WOODIIULL and CLAFLIN were, however, two women regarded
almost as outlaws.  They had become feared as "blackmailers," and unfiragrantly notorious  as'free-lovers.'  For such
reasons, undoubte(dly, the special guardlians of Mr. BEECHER'S
reputation tlhought that the worst of imeans might be good
enough to sweep)'female nuisances' out of Broad Street.  Ptublic sentime?nt weas exasperated: not quite enoutgh for a direct mob,
b7Ut (ti  indir-ect mob, slit7nkitg behit(l a  ))retence of law, nzight
crush its victims with safety.  II this position, tlle legal subterfuge was found in the act of Congress passed to punish the
51
I
0 
THE STAR CHAMBER.
venders of obscene prints.  Then Mr. ANTHONY J. COMSTOCK,
bachked by the Young ffein's Ch7ristian Association, stepped tip
to manage the danglerous fraud.  Air. COMSTOCK is generally
credited with'good intentions,' and as hlell, also, is said to be
paved with the same materials,,I have never doubted  their
presence in the man.  God seems to have made himn partly a
fool in order that the fellow could do a good work as long as
he could be kept from getting above his business. The dclirty
wretches who corrupt young minds by feeding them on licentious books need some little man, by nature a spy and hypocrite, to check their villainous trade. A full-grown, honest
soul could neither sell the books nor dodge and lie to catch
those who do. In such a dilemma the earth has a COMSTOCK.
"Mr. COMSTOCK declares that, in prosecuting WOODHULL and
CLAFLIN, he has never moved in collusion with Mr. BECIIlIR.
In spite of the habit of tongue necessary to his vocation, he
probably tells the truth: Mr. BEECHiER has acted, from the
first, through his friends.  But one of the afficdavits on which
the arrest of the two women was procured, was made b)y one
TALIESIN WILLIAM REES, a clerk in the office of the Indepe7dent: and that Mr. HENRY C. BOWEN, the proprietor of that
journal, milght be trusted to act for Mr. BEECHER, (when he
could save himself by the same industry,) will be quite evident
by-and-by to the' gentle reader' of the Thunderbolt.  Is it not
known that the scheme was planned in Mr. BOWEN'S officespies being thence dispatched to WOODHULL and CLAFLIN to
buy papers and order them sent to certain persons by post?
On receipt of the papers Mr. A. J. COMSTOCK made his complaint before Commissioner OSBORN, and the women were
arrested. Thev were in a carriage at the time, and claimed to
have been hunting up the officials who had come for them.
"  As the charge against them was a fraud, born of a plot, and
as tlhey, if no one else, had brains enough to know  it, they
naturally supposed it could soon be broken.  But in this opinion tihey measured only the justice of law itself, not the powers
of a mob, called' public opinion,' which renders American law
useless on so many important occasions. The United States
Government, however, treated WOODHULL and CLAFLIN with
endclearing familiarity.  It sat in their lap on the way to court,
throughl the supreme gallantry of Marshall COLFAX or BTIaRNiIAni)-one of the two GCesterfields who had them in ch'tge.
It then hurried then, not into open court, but into a side room
where the' examination' might be p2rivate,  In this' star cham
52
0 
NEW YORK PAPERS MUZZLED.
ber' they met five persons-District Attorney NOAH DAVIS,'a
member of Plymouth Church and a family connection of Mr.
BElECHIER;' Assistant District Attorney Gen. DAVIES, Commissioner OSBoRx, and two other gentlemen, one of these being
also a member of Plymouth Church. But the' brazen sisters'
sent for counsel; and, insisting oni being conducted to the
proper court-room, their examination was finally held in public.
In this examination the prosecuting blunderer, Gen. DAVIES,
let out the secret that WOODHULL and CLI,AFLIN were not merely guilty of'circulating obscene literature,' but of a'gross
libel' on a' gentleman' whose character it was' well worth the'
while of the government of the United States to vindicate.')
Interpreted, this lingo meant that a United States Court had'
been procured to convict, on the pretense of obscenity, two,
women who had libeled a man-this man declining to protect.
himself, except  through  a conspiracy  of his  friends  and"
lackeys.
" This' holy show' of American jurisprudence took place onll
Saturday the 2d of Nov., 1872, and was finally adjourned to'
the ensuingi Monday, the prisoners being held to bail in eilght
thousand dollars each, with two sureties.  But when Mondiay(
came the BEECHER tools of the United States Courts dodged a'
further examtination altogether.  By an unheard-of proceeding, i
the grand jury had pushed in an indictment which took the
case out of Commissioner OsnoRN's jurisdiction.  The motive'
was evident; Mr. BEECHER's Gen. DAVIES  had found that his:
owner could never be persuaded or dra(gged into court to pur-'
sue WOODIIULL for her'gross libel,' and that the chlarge of%
' obscenity' was a most ruinous one to try, if Plymouth Church
had any flirther desire to save its Bible. For by far the most
' indecent passage' in Woodhull and Claflin's WTVeekly had been
cut out of the divinely inspired book of Deuteronomy.   By,
this indictment, however, the prisoners were remanded to jail:
in utter disgrace, the mob of piety and fashion was appeasecld,'
and the Youing Men's Christian Association was sustained in'
fraud! 
"So much done, it was only necessary to muzzle the New'
York newspapers, (some of whose editors had strong personal'
reasons for dreadiing' black-mailers' if not' free-lovers,') and
to bribe or cheat the Associated Press into sendiing lies by
lightning throughout the eoulry.  Both feats were performed.
A consultation of leadLnog quills atdopted darkness awnd fclsehood as a deliberate policy; and as for our'country press,'
53
0 
GEORGE FRANCIS TRAIN.
that never dares to sneeze unless the metropolitan nose is
crammed with snuff.  The telegraph even prated about the
finding of' immodest cartoons;' and on the 4th of. November
the credulous public actually supposed that two women, claiming to be' reformiers,' were guilty of the meanest offence ill the
calendar of shame.  The ablest'lawyer in the United States
has since given an opinion scouting the whole arraignment,
and of course the parties will never be tried, much less convicted.   But, on a second arrest, they were taken before
another United States Commnissioner,-DAVENPORT,-who was
obliged to make some appearance of a'decision.'  And that
fearful and wonderful thing was this:
"As to the intention of Congress in the framing and passage of the statute
under which these proceedings were instituted, I am clear that a case of this
character was never contemplated. * * However * * I am disposed to, and
shall hold, the prisoners.
"And for this " decision," the Commissioner declared there
was no Americanl precedent, but that an "English  case" furnished one.'
"From Commissioner Davenport's ruling there is just one
logical deduction:-that this faithful servant of HIer MiajeSty,
the Queen of Great Britain, should be swiftly retired firom the
American Bench, and sent where his English decisions may be
rendered in English courts.'
"I have dwelt upon the dry details of law, and in the miserable company of its New York expounders, to show beyond  a
doubt that the ridiculous proceedings against WOODIIULL and
CLAFLIN were simply the work of a virtual mob.  And iln our
" commercial metropolis "-the great city of this BEECIIER-COMSTOCK rabble-there was only one notable man with brains and
pluck enough to care nothing about persons, and to look only
at principles.  In an age of Daniel Drew, " Jim" Fisk, and
Phelps, Docldge & Co., that man  is naturally deemed' insane."  I refer to GEORGE FRANCIS TRAIN.  This "lunatic
instantly perceived the vast public daongers that loomed up) in
a conspiracy bv which the Church might shut the mouth of
slanderers or truth-tellers alike, disembowel literature, and stay
the jnarch of humanity itself.
"BEECHER must have justice," said TRAIN:  "SO must Mr.
TTON-so nmust the sister,CLAFLIN."
To these women he said:
54
4b 
THE TRAIN LIG UE.
"'Never approving your doctrine of Free Love, I fought you out of the
'roman-Suffrage movement and the International when you were in prosperity:
but now you are in adversity I am your friend."
"From his hotel (the St. Nicholas) he instantly wrote them
a note:  "' I will go your bail. I am satisfied the cowardly christian community
will destroy you, if possible, to cover up the rotten state of society."
" Events have since proved that the " mad cap," GEORGE
FRANCIS TRAIN, was the one greatly sound mind in New York.
In spite of the momentous principles at stake, it soon became
evident (as I have already shown) that the great " churches of
commerce" and the Young Men's Christian Association were
in leasgue with the greedy-, corrupt press of the city, and that
all had joined hands to deceive the nation.  Not even a public
hall could be secured by Mr. TRAIN, to speak in.  He, too, was
gagged!  It was in this exasperating state of affairs that lihe
took desperate measures, and issued a newspaper of his ownThe Train Ligue.  He rung a score of changes on the expressions called "obscene" in Woodhull and Clafiin's TVeekly.  IHe
fltungo them into the streets of the city, and dared the authorities
to arrest him.  He deimanded the prosecution of the Bible Putblishing (obmpany for prin ting " disgttsti?ig slanders on Lot, Abrahait, Solomono  and David."  But the Government footboys of
Mr. A. J. Comstock had become timid and wary. Tiheyr let
TRAIN alone, while the cords were drawn more tightly still
arounCd W()OI)HULL and CLAFLIN.  In unspeakable disgust Mr.
TRAIN then issued his Second Train Ligue, in which hlie scattered
about the most shocking parts of the Old Testament, under the
most audacious of sensational heads, but used no  doubtful
words except those having the authority of the Bible itself. The
work was a coarse one.  Only a thorough "Pagan Preacher"
could have done it.  It seemed revolting and blasphemous; and
my own first inmpression was that TRAIN should be punished for
it.  But better aware now of the provocation, I have no doubt
that history will justify the Train Ligite as the natural reaction
of CO)MSTOCK'S idiocy, and as a last democratic test of absolute
religious equality.  Mr. TRAIN was finally arrested by the State,
not the United States authorities, and after the latter had
declined to touch him.  He was thrown into the Tombs.  He
pleaded guilty to "' quoting obscenity from the Bible," and
refused to leave the Tombs on bail.  The Church and the
Young Men's Christian'Association, again, dared not risk a
55
6 
MBRS. DA YIS' LETTER.
trial-which would either justify WOODHULL and TRAIN or else
convict the Bible.  In such straits, the BEECHIfR-BOWE,EN-C()'STOCK traitors have attempted at last to end their conspiracy
by sending GEORGE FRANCIS TRAIN to a " lunatic asylum."
To oppose these assassins of liberty is now the highest duty
that God gives me to see.  I would help do it, if necessary,
with battle and blood.  I will first do what I can with ink and
types-going back to the cause of the struggle, the BEEC,HESITr I,TON Scandal.  IsaidthatVICTORIA C. WOODHULL'Saccount
of it is " at once a truth and a falsehood." As for T'HEODOliE
TILTON'S "1 true story," long since promised to the public, that
also shall now be judged.
In a criticism of my own, fiom which I have already quoted,
I said, two months ago, that MIrs. WOODI)H ULLI,'S statement must be
accepted as substantially true; for, of the six persons on whose
authority it was told, not one had uttered a word of direct
denial.  I have now in my possession two letters from Mrs.
PAULINA WRIGHT DAVIs-both dated at Paris, one the 20th of
November and the other the 28th-showingy that I was mistaken. But a mere extract from one of these letters had been
set afloat in the newspapers, and had at last become so tortured
by a change of names that, as I saw it, I knew it must be either
a falsehood or a forgery. Mrs. DAVIS first letter is this:
PRis, Nov. 20th.
To Judge
Dear Friend:-Yours, with its astounding contents, is just received.  Thanks
for your consideration.
In relation to the TILTON versus BEECHER affair I have only this to say; I
was never on any terms of intimacy in the family of either party. I never
visited at Mr. TILTON's but once in my life, and that was ten years ago, in
company with Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. A year or two since I called at Mr.
TILTON'S house for some books I had lent Mr. TILTON.  I then saw Mrs.
TILTON for ten or fifteen minutes.  I have met Mrs. TILTON two or three times
at the houses of mutual friends, but at no time has there ever been the
slightest approach to a cozfideaitial conversation between ts.  Nor have I ever
even insinuated that there had been. If Mrs. T. has ever, in my presence,
spoken of Mr. BECHEcR, it has been in terms of respect as a man of honor and
her pastor.
I did believe that V. C. WOODHULL was going to do a great work for woman.
I am grieved that she has failed  what she gave promise of doing.
I am writing in great haste, and must be very brief; that my letter may go
0
56
'Sl-  
MRS. DAVIS' LETTER.
to England to-night by a friend, and so reach you at the earliest hour, and set
your mind at rest that I could never have originated or spread this scandal.
Yours very truly,
P. W DAVIs.
" According to' the WOODIIULL,' she received a letter from
Mrs. DAvis in May, 1871, in which Mrs. D. said:
"' I believe you are raised up of God to do a wonderful work, and I believe
you will unmask the hypocrisy of a class that none others dare touch. God
help you and save you.  The more I think of that mass of Beecher corr'uption
the more I desire its opening.'
"In  Mrs. DAVIS' second note from Paris, she refers to her
letter fiom which Mrs. WOODHULL claimed to have taken this
extract, and says:
"'The reference in my letter I do not remember; but, if there, it was in
allusion to statements made by them to me. But I think it was not there.'
" As far, then, as WOODHULL has given Mrs. PAULINA
WRIGHT DAVIS for authority in the BEECHER-TILTON Scandal,
she is fairly and flatly denied.
" The position, however, of Mrs. ELIZABETHI CADY STANTON
is quite different.  At Lewiston, Me., she undoubtedly' dlenounced' Mrs. WOODHULL'S story, as the newspapers declared
at the time; and THEODORE TILTON holds a letter from her, in
which she declines to stand in the precise attitude portrayed
bv Mrs. WOODHULL.   Yet an excellent lady, whose letter I
have traced to its source, declared in the Hartford Times soon
after Mrs. STANTON was interviewed in Maine, that she'had
charged Mr. BEECIER, to parties residing in Philadelplia an(i
known to the correspondent, with very nmuch the same offence
of whichl  Mrs. WOODHULL  speaks.'  This testimony is  on- coifiremed by EDWARD M. DAVIs, Esq., the discip)le and son-in-law
of the venerable LUCRETIA MOTT, and by Mrs. AMELIA BLOOME:, who asserts that Mrs. STANTON whispered the scandal to
her'a year and a half ago,' and said'the WOODHULL knew
all about it.'  At Rochester, not long since, Mrs. STANTON
publicly refused to deny anythiny; and, last of all, she has
recently sent to me, through a mutual firiend, this word,:'Assure Mr. CLARK that I care more for justice than for BEECHER.'
Mrs. STANTON, in short, has been somewhat perverted by WOODhIULL, tand denties the b)eeversiou.  And now, THEODORE TILTON'S
letter to his'complaiing  fiiend:' —one of the  strangest
epistles on record, and one which every careful reader was
3*
57 
TO MY "COMPLAIlVILYG FRIEND."
immediately obliged to regard as a negative confession of much
that Mrs. Woodhull had asserted.
''174 Livingstone Street, BROOKLYN, Dec. 27th, 1872. —Jf[  Conmplaiing
FrieTd:  Thanks for your good letter of bad advice.  You say,'How easy to
give the lie to the wicked story, and thus end it forever.' But stop and consider.  The story is a whole library of statemenets-a hundred or more,-and
it would be strange if some of them were not correct, though I doubt if ally
are.  To give a general denial to such an encyclopedia of assertions would be
as vague and irrelevant as to take up the Police Gazette, with its tiwenty-folur
pages of illustrations, and say,'This is all a lie.' So extensive a libel requires
(if answered at all) a special denial of its several parts; and, furthermore, it
requires, in this particular case, not only a denial of things mistated, but a
truthful explanation of other things that remain unstated and in mystery. In
other words, the false story (if met at all) should be confironted and coilfounded by the true one. Now, my friend, you urge me to speak; bet when
the truth is a sword, God's mercy sometimes commands it sheathed. If you
think I do not burn to defend my wife and little ones, you know-not the fiery
spirit within me. But my wife's heart is more a fountain of charity, and
quenches all resentments. She says:'Let there be no suffering save to ourselves alone,' and forbids a vindication to the injury of others. From the
beginning she has stood with her hand on my lips saying'Hush!' So when
you prompt me to speak for hter, you countervail her more Christian mandate
of silence. Moreover, after all, the chief victim of the public displeasure is
myself alone; and so long as this is happily the case, I shall try, with patience,
to keep my answer within my own breast, lest it shoot forth like a thunderbolt through other hearts.
Yours truly,
THEODORE TILTON.'
" Mr. TILTON'S' thunderbolt' has come!  I have tapped the
mysterious  cloud in which it lay slheathed; and if it now
shoots' throulgh any' hearts,' let their owners remember the
danger of conspiring against the most sacred rights of an
American citizen!
"I will remark, at this point, that the defense which Mr.
TILTO N prepared against Mrs. WOODHULL,-which he indirectly promised to the public, and then' concluded to withhold,'is a thick, heavy pile of manuscript, written on foolscap, and
bound in flexible black leather.  It has every appearance of
elaboration, —being erased il parts and rewritten,-and is very
circumstantial.   How  this'true story' came into my  possession is of no consequence to the public, but can easily be
58 
TIL TON'S "TRUE STOR Y."
ascertained in the courts, if any of the specially interested
parties should have the temerity to press an investi,gation.  I
slall give the substance of it, but as briefly as possible, and
chiefly, though not wlholly, ill my own language.  Here, then,
is THEOI)ORE TILTO-N'S'true storyl)-.'
"He asserts that, in the fall of 1870, —Irs. TILTON havinc
just returned to her home firom  a wate'.ing-pluce,-shle  was
v-isited by Mr. BEE('HET; land that on this occasion the pastor
of I'lymouthl Church  nubridled his fiery passions, and besought
of IMrs. TILTON the most intimnate relationship) accorded by sex.
Such warmth of pastoral attention was declined by MIrs. TiLTO —-not with the loud angler of ostentatious virtue, but with
the mature sadness of common  sense.  The good lady was
surprised(, and the true wife reported the occurrence to her
husband.  Greatly angered and grieved, hle requested her to
make a memoranduim of it.  She dlid so:-and I give her own
words, literally, as they were written.
"' Yesterday afternoon my friend and pastor, HENRY WARD BEECHER, solicited
me to become his wife in all the relations which that term implies.'
"In his manuscript-book Mr. TILTON comments, with some
evidence of pride, upon the delicate and skillful manner in
which Mr. BEECIIER'S hideous overtures were here expressed.
Mrs. TILTON'S language is striking, and is apt to impress itself
on the reader's memory.
"At the time Mrs. TILTON'S memorandum was written, M]r.
TILTON was the editor of the New York nTdepe'(ident and of
the Brooklyn  Un?ion, receiving $5,000 a year  fromn  each of
these sources, and about $5,000 more from still another source,
and was in most intimate business relations with ir. HENRY C.
BOWEN, the eminent publisher, and a fellow-membl)er of Plymouth Church.  As  rII. TILTON was writing his'true story),' lie
could hardly be blamed for a yearniing look backward at those
halcy-on day-s of the BOWEN flesh-pots.
" About six weeks after Mr. BEECIIERI'S  pastoral interview
with Mrs. TILTON, the nature of it was explained by Mr. TILTON
to his friend and patron, AI. BOWEN.   The confidence was
natural; for Mr. TILTON affirms that, (during  a whole previous
y)ear, Mr. Bowen had been denouncing AiMr. BEECHER as'a corruptor of Brooklyn society,' and clharginig him, in unmistakable
terms, with' numerous a(ldulteres and rapes.'  Mr. T'ILTON justifies his own terrible statement, at this juncture, by- the affid(avit
of another gentleman, (whose name has thus far been kept out
59 
NrOTE OF ADFVICE AND DEifAYD.
of the scandal,) but who swears that on two occasions he had(
heard Mr. Bowen impute these crimes to Mr. BEECHER.  Again,
during a Summer respite at his country-seat in Woodstock,
Conn., Mr. Bowen had written a letter to Mr. TILTON, condemninig Mr. BEECIHER more severely han ever, and bitterly aceculsingr himself of infidelity to his own conscience in having so long
delayed an exposure of so base a scoundrel.  He added that
he should publish BEECHIER'S guilt on returning to the city.
Mr. Bowen failed to keep the promise; but he still vented his
indignation in private to Mr. TILTON, who finally unbosomed
the story of his own household.
"Thereupon Mr. Bowen became unusually excited.   He said
the time had come to act.  He  urged Mr. TILTON to write instantly to IMr. BEECHER, demianding his retirement firom Plymouth Church and his withdrawal firom Brooklyn.' Wr-ite that
letter,' exclaimed Mr. Bowen,' a?(d let ME carry it to the scoundrel for you.'  Impelled by such eloquent friendship, Mr. TILTO0 says lie wrote the following note:
"'HENRY WARD BEECHER, Sir:-For reasons which you will understand,
and which I need not therefore recite, I advise and demand that you quit
Plymouthl pulpit forever, and leave Brooklyn as a residence.
THEODORE TILTON.'
"The note was theln handcled to Mr. Bowen, accordcling to his
vehleiment solicitation, for delivery to Mr. BEECHER.
"Ii  Mirs.  Woodllull's account of  the BEECHER-TILTON
Scandal, she cites a Mr. Frank Moulton as one of her  witnesses.  This gentleman's name appears also in Mr. T'ILTON'S
manuscript-book.  He is a member of Plymouthi Church.  He
has long been IMr. TILTON'S most intimate friend.   He  was
called into the difficulty at the very first step.  A day or two
after iMr. BE:ECHER'S ViSit to Mrs. 1'ILTO-r ill the coveted ligIht
of a' wife,' iMr. TILTON Consulted Mir. Moulton, it appears, and
placed iMrs. TILTON'S memoranduim inl his hands.  And now,
after sending the note of' advice and deminandI' to Mr. BEECHiER,
Ir.'rTILTOX imp)arted the circumstance to Mr. Moutlton.
"' But, T IIro:,' said Mr. Mioulton at once,' did Bowen sigrn
that letter with you?'
"' No,' repllied Mr. TILToN,' I signed it alone.'
"' 7te?t you are a ruined ntan!'
"'Iow Mr. Frank Morton acquired Ithe gift of prophecy,'
we nee(l not pause.to inquire.  But that hle  understands the
'pillars' of Plymouth Church, was  soon proved.   For when
co
a 
BEECHER A GEVTLE.UAN AIYD A CHi~STlA.  61
Mir. TILToN's friend, Bowen, reached Brooklyn Heights with
the letter which he had so earnestly requested him to bear to
tihat scoundrel, BEECHER,' hle certainly delivered it with remarkable suavity-, under the circumstances.  Said lie,
"'Mr. BEECIIER-a letter from TILTON.  TILTON is your implacable enemy,
Mr. BEFCHEnR, but I will be your firiend.'
" It is unnecessary, perhaps, to explain Mr. H. C. Bowen's
motive in this unparalleled act of' strategy,' not to say treachcry. But not longo afterward it became known to the' newspaper world' that Mr. Bowen had concluded to dispense witl
thle services of Mr. TILTON on the Independent.  To kill off a
useless friend, and at the samne time grapple a useftil enemy
with' hooks of steel,' is sometimes  an object to a shrewd man
of business.
"Somne eight months after the commencement of the BEECIFER-Tt LTro, differences, an investigation and a storm were thought
to be brooding over Plymouth Church; and Mr. BEIECIIER, fearingr that Mrs. TILTON'S memorandum  (which lie had heard of)
migilt be brought to light, made bold to visit her in Mr. TI'LTON'S
absence.  Although  informed  that she was sick in bed, lihe
insisted on seeing her, and was finally admitted to her room.
Mri. TILTON'S' true story' declares that the great preacher drewv
a dolefull picture of his troubles.  He pleaded with Mrs. TILTON
that lie was on the brinkl of ruin, and that she alonle could save
him.  Mrs. TILTON finally sat up in bed, with book and patl)er
ill hand, atnd wrote at Mr. BEECIlER'S dictation a few lilies, tlheo
point of which is that in all his intercourse with her lie' h(,l
cont(Itucted hiimtself as a geittleiman aitd a Ch)ristiani.'  iFluslic(l
with success, the Plymouith shepherd then pressed her to a(t(l
that the troublesome memorandum  in Moulton's  hands  had
becen wrested firom her when she was' ill,' and il' an ir)-esp)on.
sible condition.'  She gave an oral promise also, as Mr. TILTON
adds, that she would not appear against Mr. BElC:cII,R in any
coiingi( investigation, unless her husbandl should move in the
matter.   In' the WVoodlihll's  scandal,  shc sl)peaks of Mrs.
TILTON'S' sweet concessiveness.'  MIuch of it seems also evident in Mr. T. LTOX's I  tr ue story.'
"Oi i Mr. TILTON'S return home, Mrs. TILTON agrain told lIhim
what had hal))pened.  I-e asstIres the reader that he would now
have borne the humility of hisd-ife's merciful retraction, had it
not been for the concliuling(r portion, which apparently placed
lhil ill the p)osition of havingo compelled her to indite her first
0 
62 I2TER VIEW BETWEEN MO UL TON A4ND BEECHER.
memorandum.   Mr. TILTON'S proud spirit, outraged at the pos  sil)ilitv of this al)pearancc of vtulgar malice onl his part-or even
black-mail itself —had resource at once to his iiutailillg- soci'l
striate(ist, MIr. Moulton.   I-le urgce(l Mr. Miouiltoii to lhasten
to Mr. BEECIIEIZ, and force himin-to give lip Mrs. TILTON'S last
paper.
"Mrt. Moulton went; and he had a long private confeiecce
withl his beloved pastor.  Hle requestedl ald  insisted that the
document should l)e given up.  Amol(ng  other tlhilng.s;, le re niin(led Mr. BEECHER  that the statement  whlichi  lCie lii(1 just
worried( out of Mrs. TILTON was false on its fctce —s tlhe  n(ly
wa.s known to have been not' ill' and' in an irrespo?,sible con dlition' when her original memorandum  was made, but 7)mcovi mvtonly well, as Mr. BEECHER remnembered(,-sIshe  haviVg j?tst
rettrned ho7ome fromn a summer resort.  IMr. Moulton fi'rthler
elucidated to his mninister that MIrs. T[LTON was now' ill' a?d in
an'irresp)onsible condition,' instead of on the former occasion.
"Mr. AMoulton's  persuasions  were  not  easily  answered,
tloughli AIr. BEECHER still held on to the paper.   As the d(liscus sion sarl)ened, however, and Mr. Moulton evinced  that  lihe
was not to e) trifled with, Mri. BEECHER finallyr asked him what
lie would (lo with the paper if it should be placed in his hand(s.
' I will 7](,e) the fi'st nmemo,randum and this one together,' said
MIr. Moultonii,' Cand thus prevent you and Tiltont f)'ore har'ntiiig
e(t(ch other.'
' Blt,' sai(l iMr. BEECHER,  imploringly',' Frank, can I, can
I con fi(le in you?  Will y-ou protect the paper?'
'Yes,' was  the reply);' nobody shiall have it; I will take
care of it.'
"' How?' asked Mr. BEECTEn..
"' In every way,' answered Mr. MOULTON; and then, p?ttti)?g
his hca(nd on a pistol in his vestl) pocket, he added;' with thi., if
necessary.'
" Mr. BEECHER thereupon gave up the document, and( Mr.
MIOULTON has faithlfully kept his promise.  But lie returned at
once to Mr. TILTO*, a-nd made a full, circumstantial record of
ilie conference with IMr. BEECHER.   Thlis record was written in
sllort-hand, but was afterwards i'endere(l into ol'(liinary Eng1lisli,
an(l it now occupl)ies several pages of Mr. TILTON'S  true story,'
and( is highlyll  dramatic reading.
"In  due time  AIi. T[LON, became acquainted  with  Mris.
WOOOHI-LL.  Ile saps lie had previously declined an introo(ituctioni to her; but met her accidentally one day in company with
0 
63
WOODHULL IN A TRANCE..
a mutual  friend, and  was  presented  to her.   He  afterward
visitetd hler at times, as (lid most of the other men and women
ill New York  whlo  were conllnected withl tlle Womlall Sufi'raoe
movement.   On  one occasion of a visit at her office shle si(ldenly seized a col)y of the l-ol/l, and, tlithristing, it b)efore lliln,
poiiited to thllis passage in a letter she hlad written to  that
joulrnal:
"' I know a clergyman of eminence in Brooklyn, who lives in concubinage
with the wife of another clergyman of equal eminence.
" Mr. TILTON,' said WVOOT)HIIULL,'do you know whom that
means?''No.''It means you and Mr. BEEcHER.'
" Mir. T[LTON claims that lie said nothing, or almost nothing
in reply; but was simply tltinder-strick.  He instantly perceived that the woman  had heard, ill an exaggerated form,
rumors that had been traveling about for a year or two, and he
feared that, in her possession, they might become very d(langerotis.  He soon left Mrs. WOODHItULI,, and sought, of course,
the Napoleonic MO)ULTON.  The result was the deliberate plan
of a campl)aign to get thoroughily on the right side of WOODIl) ULI,,
keel) there, and thus close her moutli.  He then called upon
her fieqiently-somnetiines in company with MOULTON, sometimes alone, took her pait i)ublicly, and defended her character.
He sometimes saw her in such exaltations as hlie considered
states of trance, and her husband in affinity, Col. BLOOD, used
to read him extracts from the heavens, which VICTORIA was
said to have received (often the night before) from the' sl)irits.'
MIr. TILTON does not (ldenyl that he honestly considered AMrls.
WoODHULL a remarkable woman, with a' mission;' and, if mistaken, he naturally contends that Mr. BEECHEI1, his sistel', Mrs.
lH)OKER, Mlrs. STANTON and many others'trained in the same
regiment' of erring mortality.
"On  statements furnished by Mrs. WOODnUI.LL and Col.
BLOOD, MIr. TILTON finally made the last  )old( stroke to win
the uindying gratitude of 44 Broad Street, by giv(ing his naine
and the literary finish of his pen to the' Biog(raplhy of VICTORt[.A C. WOODHULL.'  He was mistalken, lie now thinks, il thit
person.  With'the WOODHULL'; gratit(ude' is nothin(r,' 1)1 inciple' everything; and principle, in lihr case as in VANI)IIBILT'S, is to'carry a point.'  Mr. TIITON had a terrible
warniing of this phase of her chliacter, when some of his ly(1acquaintances and spl)ecial'fiiends deemined it necessar, in tlhe
early3 part of 1872, to disownI Mrs. WOODIIUI,L in the arena of 
TiE DAY OF JUDGMENT.
Woman's  Rights, on account of her social doctrines.   The
WOODHULL instantly flanked the movement by  sendling the
ladies printed slips of their own private histories, (in all article called' Tit for Tat'), declaring that if they should disgrace
her for teaching' social f-eedo,,' she would print the article in
her Weekly, and they should sink with her for practicing the
theory. This generalship may be defended by the old proverb
that'any thing is fair in love and war;' but such a blow
'under the belt' was severely rebuked by Mrs. STANTON, and
was regarded with reasonable terror by Mr. TILTON.  He now
became fully conscious of Mrs. WOODHULI'S capacity of destruction, and retired completely from her circle. The impending' crack of doom' was not to be hushed up with' gratitude.'
Mr. TILTON had himself confided the substance of his'true
story' toMrs. WOODHULL, and knew that so much of his fate
was in her hands. Still, he affirms that he was astonished beyond measure when she at last magnified( it into the unearthly
proportions of the BEECHER-TILTON Scandal.
"Such is a careful summary of that' true story' which THEODORE TILTON said he should try to keep within his own
breast.
"As far as Mr. BEECHER is concerned, it will instantly be
seen that his virtue, at best, is not always the inclination of his
own will.  If Mrs. WOODHULL has misrepresented  him, and
Mr. TIL,TO  has turned her falsehood into truth, still it was
only through Mr. B EECHER'S failure in carrying out an immoral
Ipurlose that Mrs. WOODHULL'S story is not correct. A corresI)pondlent of the Cincinnati Commercial-who has evidently been
admitted into some of the secrets of Mr. TILTON'S foolscap volume, and at the same time employed to whitewash Mr. BEECHER
-declares that the'true story' embraces'a period of ten
years,' implicates' persons who have not publicly figured in it,'
and'elucidates some things not likely to be known till the Day
of Jtcudgment.'
" These stilted phrases have some foundation, though it
would not be difficult for so plain a man as myself to bring
that'Day of Judgment' close to hand, if necessary.  I have
no wish, however, to (draIg any cringing mortal before the public
in mere wantonness,-especially any woman.  I regard Mr.
HENRY C. BowEN as iMr. BEECHER'S chief' supe' and conspirator, ill combining withthat wretched Jesuit of Protestantism,
Mr. ANTHONY  J. COMiSTOCK, to violate American  liberty.
From my position, lMr. Bow:EN deserves no mercy beyond the
64
0 
MRS. MORRIS CIRCULATES THE SCANDAL.
bare truth. In regard to other persons, I think the public have
no special interest in them, with one exception.  As I view the
whole case, in all its bearings, I deem it right to say that Mr.
T[LTON claims that he has always been violently hated by his
wife's mother, Mrs. MiORRIS-a lady who is definitely represented to me as insane.
"This poor lady is said to have circulated, for many years,
the most dlamaging reports against the character of her daughter, and against Mr. BEECHER and Mr. T l,TOx.  The earliest
scandals concerning MIrs. TILTON and the Plymouth pastor are
said to have proceeded from her.  I must add, also, that a long
tiime ago there were rumors, among the special acquaintances
of the parties, that MV rs. TILTO ~ was subject to the hallucination
that some of Sir. BEECHER'S  children were those of her own
household.  (But Mr. TILTON'S narrative affords me no hint of
this rumor.)
"And now what conclusion is to be drawn from Mr. TILTON'S'thunderbolt' on  one  hand, and  Mrs. WOODHULL'S
vauntedl' bombshell' on the other?  I am sorry to say I have
little confidence in the strict veracity of either account.
"As for'the Woodhull,' there can be no dcloubt that she
has belied Mirs. Paulina Wright Davis completely.   This excellent lady did believe, to use her own  language,'that V. C.
Woodhull was going to do a great work for woman,' and in
that belief Mrs. Davis  encouraged her by word and( deed.
About a year ago Mrs. Davis went to Europe; and as late as
M[ay of 1872, she seems to have retained an affectionate regard
for Sirs. Woodhull.  It is supposed that when' the Woodhull'
printed her slips to use against those select advocates of Womali's Rights who wished to push her aside, one of the slips was
sent abroad to Mrs. Davis; for Mrs. Woodhull has since publishled a letter (thought to be genuine) which can only be explainedcl by some such cause. Here it is:
"' Jfy dear Victoria:  Driven to bay at last, you have turned, poor
hunted child, and dealt a cruel blow on the weak instruments of mensuch men as the editors of the Iferald, Tribitne, Sien, etc.  Every one of
the women you name has been hounded by these men, and now that it suits
them, they make cat's-paws of them to hunt you.  The first time I ever
saw Mrs. Phelps I was told by a man that she was a woman of damaged
reputation.  T. W. Higginson said the same thing, of Mrs.  Blake in a
meeting of ladies in Providence.  Ilwas urged to avoid these women, but
it was not for me to make v~ar on any one who would work for woman's
65 
66     MRS. DA VIS CONVTRADICTS WOODHULL.
freedom.  They have not stood by me in my faith in you.  But, dear child,
I wish you had let them pass, and had taken hold of those men whose souls
are black with crimes and who set up to be the censors of morality.  They
should be torn from their throne of the judgment of woman's morals, and
made to shrink from daring to uttvr one word against any woman  as
long as they withhold justice from her.  Men are the chief scandal-mongers
of the age: it is they who import all the vile scandals of New York here,
and so make society detestable. You are not befooled by them, hence you
must be cructfied. God in Ilis mercy pity you and give you grace, strength
and wisdom, to do your work arighlt. But do not again take hold of the
"cat's-paws:" excoriate the monkeys, the scandal-mongers,  the base'
hearted, cowardly betrayers of woman's confidence and honor. Give woman
a fair field of equality, and then if she is weak, wicked and mean, let her
bear her share of the odium.
Ever yours,
PAULINA WRIGIST DAVIS.
FLORENCE, ITALY, May, 1872.
This letter,-which I consider worthy the head and heart of
any woman that ever livcd,-commits Mrs. DAVIS to the cause
of social fair-play in the broadest sense. She has no fear,
surely, for the "face of man;" and, as o?te man, I always take
off my hat to such a woman. Yet Mrs. DAVIS flatly contradicts
Mrs. WOODHULL, and declares that if she ever spoke to her of
the " BEECHER-TILTON Scandal," she relied simply on  Mrs.
W.OODHULL'S own declarations.         -
Mrs. STANTON, again, has now said enough to show that she
considers her conversation with WOODHULL to have been
warped, if nothing more, and stuffe(d outt for dramatic effect.
Then THEODORE TILTON  denies " the AV()ODH-IULL "-that is,
when the letter to his " complaining friend" finds interpretation
at last in the Thinder-bolt.
"This complaininog fiiend is Col. James  B. Mix, a wellknown journalist longo connectc(led with the  Tribune-a  gentleman who has undoubtedly read MAi. TtLTON'S " true  sto3ry,"
and who has since rebuked lhim  severely for not fulfilling his
declared intention to )ul)lisll it.  In the Cllicagro Times of Febrmary 28thl, Col. Mlix has the one remalrkabl)le letter, as far as
any hint of hIil(lden facts is concerned, that the BEi,CHEE,-WOo)I.lItLL excitement has tlLhus far produced.  The rest are either
thick lamp-])lack or else thin whitewash.   First explaining his
position in connection witli Mr. TILTON, Col. Mix says:  "We never expected again to put pen to paper in this matter.  But 
COL. [IX SPEAKS.
since you, Theodore Tilton, stand trembling with your written statement
in your hand, we deem it an act of friendship to give you that spur which
shlall start you on the stern path of duty. * * * * One would suppose that the Christian Church was founded with the birth of the reverend
gentleman who is principally concerned, so mealy-mouthed are the blind
idolators who worship at the shrine of Plymouth.  *  *  *  For years the
swvord of Damocles has been suspended above his platform, and yet he has
never flinched. One miscreant among his congregation has, figuratively
speaking, been shaking the finger of guilt at him for years.  *  *  People
ask why has Mr. BEECHER not said,' This is all a lie.'  It is only a little
band of dear friends who know of the efforts that have been made during
the past winter to shield Mr. BEECHER from the parasites that have surrounded him, and who now feel that every honorable effort having availed
nothing, he must meet the blow.
Col. Mix-impersonating Diogenes, out with his lantern to
look for an honest man-next addresses Mr. BEECIIER directly:
"Why was it that you desired that your protege should read you his
written statement, which he did but a few nights since at the house of a
minutual friend? Why was it necessary for you to correspond with'the
Woodhull?' If she is the vile wretclh they say she is; and if the letters
you have from her contain any thing but the woman's inmost thoughts;
any thing that can be construed iito a threat; any thing that will bear the
construction of black-mail, why not give them to the world, so that those
who love you for your great talents and the good you have accomplished
in the world, may breathe freer?  Why was it that she and you were
together on the lteighlts, Nov. 19th, 1871, except it was that she then
expected you to make your' new departure,' and become the high priest
of that peculiar sect of which she is the champion?   What mysterious inJfluence was it that she then possessed over you, that you allowed her to dareto
propose that you should introduce her at Steinway lIall.  Was it her
pure unadulterated cheek, or did she know' who was who?' Certain it
w,as that she was not dismayed; and she nerved your pupil to do that fromn
which you shrank.
"Did not one of the noblest of men  * open wide for you another field of
usefulness?  * *  But, alas! Mammon again claimed you.   *  *  The
auctioneer was again on hand, and one by one the most conspicuous spots
w-ere secured.  *  *  Why was it that your sister, IHarriet, Sunday after
S.inday, sat at your feet?  Was it that another sister, more impulsive, had
threatened to mount your platform an(cplead your cause?
"Come to the front and center, Ilenry Ward Beecher.  You are but
human.  *  *  You have a constituency outside of Plymouth Church, to
67 
THE      N AODERX A CA CES.
which they are but a drop in the bucket.  In your proper element you can
unmask the cold-blooded varlets that flaunt their piety on'Change and in
the mart.  *  *  Society was organized on a substantial basis, and no
nman or woman can overthrow it. Let us have the truth though the
heavens fall.  Shall it be?  Or must a desperate woman be allowed an
excuse, THROUGH  THE  COWARDICE  OF  THIOSE  WHO  HAVE  COMMUNED
WVITII HER, to give to the world that which may sear other hearts, and
tear open, afresh, wounds that are almost healed?
The immense suggestiveness of this letter, taken in connection with its source, supplies all need of excuse for quoting it
so liberally.   It is the only article from  the  BEECHER-TILTON
circle that the WOODHULL herself has deigned to notice. And
what remarkable notice! She satys:  "This is but another attempt on the part of the defense, many others of
different bearing havrng failed to draw our fire before the turning-point.
And it will fail, as all others before have failed.  *  *  We shall neither
be surprised, annoyed or driven into a showing of our hands until the
riglit time comes.  But when  that time shall come,  the'Manricoes,
'Brooklyns,''Vidies'-the curs who bark at our heels behind nom de
plitnes-*  *  these, we sav, all these will have good reason to think the
last trump has sounded; for we shall then tell the whole truth though the
heavens do fall, and though, WITHI THE REST, WE  GO  DOWN  IN TlIE
GENERAL RUIN.
"It is this close, deadly fire, and then the locking of bayonets, between Col. Mix and the WOODHULL,  that gives nmo
pause over Mlr. TILTON'S " true stoiry."-This, and one thingy
more: firom Brooklyn I am asked this question:
"' Hiow can Tilton deny even what you say he does?  Mrs. Stanton has
not been his only confidant.  My friend, —, long ago received front
him a story that did not so spare his hearthstone.  It was Woodliull's
account, or much like it.'
"I have greatly ad(mired MIr. TILTON.   I have thoughl t him
a lhero, e rring, lerhalps, but loving, forgiviugc and abutsed on
inaiiy) sid(les.  Blut was that "true story" written, after all, ou
1))?t)ose to be h7id(del, and to b)e spruug, by and by, as a trap,
on iistoi y?  Is it another book by a Bolingbroke, who" loaded
his guno," as Dr. Johnson said, " but dared not fire it, and so
lhired a beggarly Scotcllmnan to pull the trigger after lie was
dead?" 
"But Col. Mix, in his article, makes no scruple of describingl
Mr. Beecher as "The  modern  Arbaces"-insatiate luxury
68 
MAlSTERLY SYSTEM OF TACTICS.'
masked in the idol of a god!  The picture is either very careless or else very frightful.  tie tells' Arbaces' that Mrs. Woo(dhull knew' who was who,' and' nerved his pupil to do' that
from which he' shrank.'  Mr. Tilton's'comp)laining friend'
fears, too, that iMrs. Woodhull may' se'r other hearts, acnd
tear open, afiresh, wounds that are almost healed.'  Then  iMrs.
Woodhull herself assures him that she shall yet'tell the whole
truth, though the heavens do fall,' and though she'goes down
with the rest in the general ruin.' Very well: but when those
heavens crack and tumble, will the Woodhull'go dlown' in
the arms of' Arbaces,' or of the' pupil,' or of both?  I have so
little faith in the chastity of Plymouth Church that the two
brethren may' toss up a cent' for the benefit of the doubt.
And now let us glance over the whole field of the WoodhullBeecher battle, pick up the wounded, bury the dead, and look
all the results straight in the face.
As far as Mr. Beecher is concerned, the most direct, though
interested witness, MIr. Tilton, affirms that lie is not an adulterer, as charged; but that, in spite of his eager  intentions to
become one, his virtue was preserved by Mrs. Tilton.
But Mr. Beecher's method of magnetizing a sick person into
writing down lies for his temporal salvation, is itself as bad as
a breach of the Seventh Commandment.   It marks at once the
perfidious conspirator.  It is the old spirit of David, puttingY
Uriah in the' fore front of the battle.' It justifies every suspicion that leagues Beecher with Bowen an(l Comstock, their
raid on American law and the necessities of human progress.
No: Plymouth Church may cling to Henry Wiard Beecher, askiig no questions, and both may go to the devil together.  But
he is henceforth on the retired list of great names and honest
men.' The  Woodhull' has always claimed that  his  dead
silence, as to her, is a'masterly sy:em of ta,ctics'-a waiting
until public sentiment can tide up to his justification in' social
fireedom.' She may bottle her soothing-syrup. The man has
no self-sacrifice, much less a bit of aggressive heroism.   He is
not fit to stand even with her in' reform.' He will rot away in
a dead church.
"But he can easily be spared in all other connections.   The
Beecher family has been great in American history.  Forty
years ago Lyman Beecher had power to make  even  Vcl(ndcll
Phillips a Calvinist, though he Ieudently excused himiself, as a
shrewd Christian, from joining Garrison and the Abolitionists,
on the plea that he already had'too many irons in the fire.'
69
f 
BEECHER AS AN ORATOR.
When the battle for freedom had grown warm, and  the ranks
were pretty well filled, Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote'Uncle
Tom's calin,' and Henry Ward Beecher stood vigorollsly lip
for old John Brown.  A gratefull country call never forget such
services.  The younger Alr. Beecher, too, has made Puritanism
as broad as the sons of Puritans would let him; b~tt he has
alw(tys been very careful ntot to step an inch ahead  of assured
sztppo)-rt.  Theodore Parker-the one great thlinkler of the recent
American pulpl)it-once spoke of Ir. Beeclier's' deep emotional
nature, so devout and so humane,' and his' poetic eloquence
that is akin to both the sweet-briar and the rose, and all the
beauty which springs up wild amid New 1England hills.'  No
thloroughly trained scholar has ever given Mr. Beecher credit
for any thi(ng more than Theodore Parker described.
" His mind is loose and uncertain.  He has borrowed a great
deal of'originality' from Emerson, mixed it with sentiment
and theology, and fed it to Plymouth Church.  But a profound,
systematic thlinkler, like Kant or Hegel, would give him the
lock-jaw.  Ile is like the recent book'Ecce Hormo,' which futrnished the crude aveiage mind of the day with a new conception of Jesus, but was only a pretty toy to real schlolars. As
an orator and actor, however, Henry WVard Beecher has few
equals; and like Butler at the bar, or Plillips on the platform,
Beecher can always bring( instantly to the pulpit all that is in
himn.  His greatness is his readiness.  But when he combines
with Bowen and Comstock to save a name by endangering a
nation, it is evident that lie has been petted and pampered into
counting( himself a go(l.  WVhen Harriet Beecher Stowe-after
digging u ip Byr-on to brand' incest' on the corpse,-holds back
Isabella Beecher Hooker firom ad(lmitting her brother's faults,
the flrtlher usefulness of lMrs. Stowe to the world may also be
questioned.  And when at last the author of' Catharine Beecher's Cook Book' demands that some defunct law shall be unburied to imprison Woodhull without the appearance in court
of a prosecuting( witness, the end has come to an illustrious
line.' Assez de Bonaparte,' said France in 1814.  America is
just ready to sayl:' Enoughy of the Beechers!'
In estimating Theodore Tilton, I scarcely know  what to
think.  He has several letters jfomi Beeche-, exalti-ig hii a(s the
m2ost miagynanimnous of men antd Cthristica,s.'  He  would have
earnedl these on the supposition that his'true story' is not a
false one, andcl he  oulcl have doubly earned them, certainly, on
the supposition that the worse version of Woodihull has any
70
0 
WOOI)DHULL'S CHARACTER. 
truth at all in it.  Mr. Tilton has been the most brilliant young
editor in the United States, though he, too, seems dependent
on the inspiration of the moment, rather than on any very deep
centre of thought.  He may yet be pushed into showing that
he has not become rotten before getting ripe. But his silence
with Beecher, and his patience with Bowen and Comstock, fill
many who would like to love him with doubt and distrust.
"And( how, finally, shall the thunderbolt fall on'the Woodbull' herself? I have never seen the dreaded ogress of Broadcl
Street but once-a year or two ago-when I conversed with
her a fewv minutes in a public hall.  Her sister, Miss Claflin, I
hltve never seen at all.  But having taken a deep interest in
great principles victimized through these two women, and having honestly sought nothing but truth in scrutinizing the
Beecher-Tilton Scandal, this attitude has drawn to me many
people, and has opened various sources of information on all
sides.  I know persons who admire Mrs. Woodhull, those who
hate her, those who think her nature distorted but her work
necessary, and those who have watched and studied her, with
the care of detectives, for both public and private purposes.
On seeing her myself, I said (in the Troy }Vhig of September
25th, 1871,) that she struck me as a rapt idealist-" out of her
head" in the sense of "enthusiasm;" a nature " so intense
that she might see visions of angels or devils," and as manv as
St. John or Luther. "1 Ilad she been carefully trained from
childhood," I added(l, " I must think she would have  been a
wonderful schlolar, poet, and thinker.  As it is, she is an abnormal growth of democratic institutions, thoroughly sincere,
partly insane, and fitted to exaggerate great truths." As p)recisely this opinion has been reflected back to me  by several
very acute minds-both men and womein-I have no doubt today, that it describes the "Woodhull," in one mood, pretty
closely.  But I know, from facts in my  possession, that she
has other moods, in which she loses her remarkable sweetness
of voice and all touch of the heavens, to swagger like a pirate
and scold like a drab.
This phase of her character has been so conspicuous at
times, before close judges of human nature, that they regard
her as an ingrained liar and a complete quack.  Atone time
she sinks every vestige of egotism in the absorbed expl)ression
of ideas; and at another she word steal the genius of a friend
to aid her in " putting on airs."  It seems as if she loves notoriety more than any other being on earth; yet she loves her
71 
MORALIZING.
notions of duty even more than notoriety. She is ignorant;
and her strong signatures in letters and on the backs (f plotographs, is commonly the handiwork of Col. Blood. It is
probable that she never wrote, unaided and alone, any of her
"great speeches" or her stirring editorials-the "BeecherTilton Scandal" being no exception.  Yet she is the inspiration, the vitality and the mouthpiece of her clan and "cause."
Her organ,  Woodlhull anid Clafiin's Weekly, has voices from
the "seventh heaven" and the gabbling of a frog-pond.  Its
advertisements are gratuitous "blinds;" and its proprietors
have lately had the kindness to publish my own circular without request or leave; yet the amazing journal is crowded with
thought, and with needed information that can be got nowhere
else. And to-day it stands as the test of a free press, and the
possibility of a better breed of men than now make the city of
New  York  a vast im?moral i6)provew?ent on Sodom  and
Gomorrah.  Mrs Woodhull, in short, is like Daniel O'Connell,
as judged by "Bobus Smith":  She ought to be hanged, and
tl-)en have a monument erected to her memory at the foot of
the gallows.
Does all this seem like a contradiction or a joke? Very
likelv-to the puny-souled babes, suckled on the dish-water
that is now-a-days called "religion," " thleology," "morality."
The Sunday-school and the Young Men's Christian Association divide mankind into two classes-the good and the bad.
But their Jesus said:  "There is none good but one-the
Father; and the Son went down to sympathize with publicans
and harlots.
The world should have done, once for all, with e.xp)ecting to
find a saint who is all sanctity, or a sinner who is all sin.  The
conception is an old humbug, clasped to the bosom of snobs
to double their natural hypocrisy. God made the worldevery thought and every thing-out of two opposites. Philosophy, in a Hegel, analyzes them into abstracts, calls them
"being" and "nothing," poses these abstracts in necessary
evolution, and then synthesises the whole solid world back
again.  Common sense sees the same thing in every human
being, and calls it good and evil. In strong people, especially, it is stiffly mixed.  "Every literary man," said Landor,
"has the spice of a scoundrel in him."  The  most useful
American writer, durinr four or five years of our "Great
Rebellion," is a natural miser and bummer, and "dead-beat:"
-and he is my friend, and I love him heartily.  If Beecher
72 
WOODHULL'S EARL Y LIFE.
himself would only be honest, and not try to garrote the prospects of his race to cover his own frailties, I could hug him in
ten minutes.  But he prefers the "orthodox" embraces of
"twenty mistresses" and a few millions of fools.
But of all incarnate mixtures of Manna and Helebore that
are now going "to and fro on the earth and walking up and
down in it," the Woodhull appears to be the most extreme.
According to her own story (Tilton's biography) she was conceived in the frenzy of a Methodist revival, and born in a
treacherous nest of human catamounts. She was marked
from the womb with preternatural excitement. The baby
played with ghosts.  She dug in the garden with the devil's
foot on her spade, to hurry her up. The child of fourteen
married to please a rake's whim, and lived fifteen years with a
man she ought to have left in a week. She was a little of
every thing to earn hard bread-handmaid and shop-girl,
actress and clairvoyant healer of general aches. What else,
poor soul, they tell me, is not down in the book. She was
crushed and cursed in motherhood with an idiot-boy. She
was taunted with marital fidelity by a husband who was himself the popinjay of strumpets.
This poor, imp-ridden, heart-burnt woman turned at last
against the social fate that had crushed her; and, having been
its manifold victim, she knew all its sores and all its weapons.
Her treatment of its diseases are new: SIIE CURES SEDUCTION
BY KILLING REPUTATION,  AND LANCES ADULTERY WiTH A
" SOCIAL REVOLUTION."
She is accused of levying black mail, and special detectives
of Wall street claim to h,old indictments against her, hidden
in their safes. But if such papers were of any effect, when
New York would pay a million dollars for a legal pretext to
send the woman to Sing Sing, the detectives must have blackmailed somebody for two millions in the interest of burning
the indictments up. That Mrs. Woodhull is at all "nice in
business honor, I doubt. If she would use the name of Mrs.
Paulina Wright Davis falsely, to strengthen even an essential
truth, she would suborn a friend's purse to carry out some
other "mission."
But that holy horror should gripe the bowels of the whole
New York press at the two-peacny corruptions of the Woodhull
and Claflin, is enough to make,he memory of Bennett wink
with its cock-eye.  The Hefald was born in smut and libel,
and now keeps a regular assignation-house in its columns.
4
73 
CI?OSSILVG OF FLIES IN THE AIR.
Yet perhaps'tis the most manly of all the great city dailies.
How many times was the World blatent with threats at the
Tammany Ring, and then sopped into silence. Whlitelaw
Reid has lately elected himself editor and publisher of the
Tribune, with half a nmillion dollars behind him. Who owns
the dog now that nosed Greeley into the grave? When the
Tribune truckles to Jay Gould, calls for the hanging of
Stokes, and plays into the hands of David Dudley Field, a
little black-mailing would dignify its character Faugh! the
American press has been the mere skunk of the Church,
bribed by its subscription-list to save Beecher in a universal
stench of black-mail. But the Woodhull's doctrine of FreeLove, the one thing "beastly and abominable " that now inhabits the earth!
Well, I praise the Lord that I have never had any personal
use for this doctrine.  The "effete system of marriage," as
Woodhull and Claflin sometimes call it, has always been good
enough for me in spirit and in letter. And there can be no
possibility that the love of average human beings will ever fall
into chaotic license-the common misunderstanding of "freelove- and which the poet Wordsworth once described to
Emerson as "the crossing of flies in the air." But for even
the earnest opponents of a theory, it is well to know what the
theory is.
Such, however is not the current method of opposing
social freedom."  The rule in this case is to shut both eyes,
strike out with all your might, and hit-nothing. That
is, the fops and dolls-the nincompoops in general-who make
up what is called "society," are without the mental capacity to
understand what free-love means. The whole wo)rld is a big
brothel-that is their conception.  And they can't be cured of
it. The true idea would burst open their little heads. With
them too "free love" is now the last rotten egg they can find
to throw at people who do know something. Though enlisted
for the war against free-love in the sense of unchained lust,
and though distrusting and opposing any departure from
monogamy in marriage, I have no desire to stand in an infantclass of idiots, who answer our argument, first by misconceiving it, and then by turning up the end of a pug nose.
Besides, there is much in the movement called "social freedom" that should be admitted at once, as simple justice, in
the practical application do rights and morals
In a recent article, for instance, by Tennie C. Claflin (to take
an authority sufficiently obnoxious) she claims this;
74 
SOCIAL FREEDOM.
"Ifthe loss of purity-is disgrace to unmarried women, then the same should
be held of men; if the mother of a child out of legal wedlock is ostracized,
then the father should share the same fate. If a life of female prostitution is
wrong, a life of male prostitution is equally wrong. If Contagious Diseases
Acts are passed, they should operate equally on both sexes."
The Young Men's Christian Associaton, of New York, have
endeavored to present the equal chastity of the sexes by suppressing Miss Claflin's article as "obscene." But there is more
of the Christian religion in it, and more good sense, than in
Dodge and Comstock's entire band of theological Hessians.
But directly in regard to the doctrine of "free love" again,'
it is necessary for our intelligent opponents to acknowledge that
'tis not merely a Woodhull that believes in "new social relations" for men and women, but'tis many of the most capacious minds and hearts on earth, from John Stuart Mill to
Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Woodhull is only a tremendous
horrn, and Col. Blood is now blowing in front of Jericho.
When Mrs. Stanton stood up in New York, after the trial of
McFarland for killing Richardson, and said that no brute
should be the dreaded ownter of a woman's soul and body, she
stated the principle of social freedom, as understood by its own
expoiniders.  Mrs. Stanton felt no statute in a book was so
sacred as that which crushed woman's right to her own
individuality.
"Social freedom," then, from one view, is merely the extreme logical end of democracy-absolute individual sovereignty-simple self ownership. No bond, no custom, no law can
righteously deny it. Yet this truth, after all, is only half a
truth, and the other half is the duty which every individual
-every self sovereign-owes to his neighbor-that is, to society.
"Love," says the Woodhull, should be "free" precisely like
"worship." The world has outgrown laws to govern religion
and leaves conscience unfettered.   The fetters of constraint
should be broken from marriage, and the parties allowed to
mind their own business.
Such is the argument. But the world has not outgrown all
laws concerning worship. It prevents one congregation from
disturb)ing another, or taking possession of their church. And
in regard to marriage has society no "undeniable rights?"
Marriage is not a relation of two individuals solely, but of
their children as well. And hasany neighbor no right to protect himself against the enforced support of my children?
75
0 
THE ONElDA COMMUNITY.
Undoubtedly there is no mysterious sacredness in the relation
of sex; it is a human affair, amenable to human justice.
'Twould now be useless to treat it otherwise; for general
liberty has become so broad that strong persons, justified to
themselves, take their lives in their own hands, defying society
if necessary, and conquering it by ability and success, as Mr.
and Mrs. Lewes have done even in the midst of English conservatism. The sentiment of love is perhaps the most important in the happiness of life. Nor is it even perfect without
the expectation of permanence.  So'tis easy enough to see that
two human beings will not generally give themselves up to
each other in the closest of intimacy and responsibility, without as much formality, at least, as they would take in "passing
receipts" over the transfer of a horse or a pig.  Still the
tendency in America is doubtless to multiply the facilities of
divorce; and the laws will probably end in according to all the
"sovereignty" that two parties to a. " civil contract" mutually
desire, and that the interests of offspring will permit.
In the Beecher-Tilton scandal, however, "the Woodhull"
sets utip an illustration of "social freedom" that must delight
the soul of Stephen Pearl Andruss, but would empty the
very meaning of virtue out of the world. Claiming all she
does of Beecher, she claims with it, that no wrong was done
except in the deceit of the doing and the hypocrisy of' hiding Ihe
deed. A man who feeds Plymouth Church with his soul, needs
the magnetic sustenance of "many women."   It is all lovely
to Woodhull-all serene and beautiful. The only fault would
be in a Tilton's monopolizing some poor woman, so that she
should not be comforted by her pastor, and so that he should
be deprived of elixir for new prayers and sermons.
Here is the Oneida community let loose-free love for the
saints without even the advantages of material communism.
Fourier himself puts Ninon de L'Enclos, Beecher, and the
Woodhulls in a separate "phalanx "of their own kind, though
he insists that some such people will always exist as excepti,ns
to the race.  They have got out of their "phalanx," it seems,
and have gone to "reforming things."
But, as Mrs. Paulina Wright Davis says, "the Woodhull"
is not to be befooled. The woman's bitter experience has taught
her all the sickness of the times.  "Free love" and "stirpiculture" are rather striking remedies for it.  But in an age of
Tweed, and Oakes Ames,hballis, Comstock, and God in the
76
0 
THEB ONEIDA COMMUNITY. 
constitution; Oakey Hall, model artists and Rosenweig; industrious fleas and D. W. IHuston; Bowen, Beecher, the
Tombs, and the Police Gazette-in such an age the world can't
change for the worse.  Free love may be its last hope.  At any
rate, if a young woman of thirty-four  ears and another of
thirty, with one Missoutri Colonel behind them, can frighten
the whole American people out of free speech, a free press,
and an honest court house, "stirpiculture" is needed at once
for the begetting of some tolerable race of men.
6
77
0 
CHAPTER IIlL
TRENCHANT REVIEW OF THE " TRUE STORY" AND  MR.
CLARK'S ERRORS, BY THE WOODHULL-THE POEM "SIR
MARMADUKE'S MUSINGS," WHICH, IT IS ALLEGED, IS IN TENDED TO REFER TO THEODORE-HOW IT WAS WRITTEN
IN BOSTON WHEN TILTON HAD DISCOVERED HIS WIFE'S
FALL, WITH A PISTOL BEFORE HIM, AND PREPARATORY TO
COMMITTING SUICIDE- MRS. PAULINA WRIGHT DAVIS'
LETTER-" THE MORE I THINK OF THIS MASS OF BEECHER
CORRUPTION, THE MORE I DESIRE ITS OPENING."
HILE the author has never been an admirer of Mrs.
'Woodhull, and is one of the few journalists of the
metropolis who has never, at this writing, laid eyes upon her,
fairness to her and justice to the reader demands that she
should be permitted to be heard here, in defence of the charg,es
made in the Thunderbolt. Shortly after the appearance of the
TAunderbolt, Mrs. Woodhull published in the Weekly the following:  "' THE THUNDERBOLT.'-A paper bearing the above name,"
says MIrs. Woodhull, "has been issued from the press, simultaneously in New York, Albany and Troy, which purports to
have been written principally by Edward II. G. Clark, of the
latter city, and published by some unknown parties, who, however, are understood to be men of the first rank in social and
political circles.  Notice of this paper has been given in tihe
Weekly, whose readers are undoubtedly expecting it, therefore
I do not need to apologize for copying it entire.
78
a 
;     jKi(
'Noillil.11 qlll()(]()'itfil
'N
1, 
4, 
R,ET'IEW OF THE THU'iYDERBOLT.
" It will be remembered that Mir. Clark has written several
criticisms upon the various phases of the Beecher-Tilton scandal, which have been copied into the Ueekly, not excluding his
severe allusions to myself, without comment.   But I shall remain silent no longer and permit this conspiracy to proceed,
apparently to whitewash somebody, but really to blackwashl
me, to pass as current stuff without shlowing its true character
and bringing it home to its real source.  I shall, therefore,
analyze this thunderbolt as severely as my crucible will admnit
of, notwithstanding he has been led to convey the impressioln
that I am  too ignorant to attempt any such thing, and attempti,ng, could only expect to write myself down an ass;
however, the public shall have the opportunity  to  judge
between us as to which of us is the greater. But I shall
borrow no adjectives with which to do this, as he has felt
it necessary to do to accomplish the purposes of the Tlunfl(lerbolt.
"The paper is called the T/li~tderbolt.  After a careful and
candid reading, however, I do not think the name it bears is
justified by its contents, unless, indeed, a thunderbolt may be
a general  concenlltrationl  of many  lesser bolts which  have
already been expended, and are gathered together to be hurled
anew aind eb ticisse at a giveln point, for a certain purpose.
This paper contains 11no new facts; indeed no new arguments
regarding, existing facts.  The several features of the Scandal
are concentrated, and-as everyone who reads it can well
surmise-with  a  well-defined  purpose  in  view,  which  I
denominate  the  double  one  of  whitewashing  and  blackwasling.
This will become evident when other thingis wlicll do not
appear upon the face of the paper itself, are shown.  It wtill be
re,memibered tha(t I receiztly p})tblisled a letter jromi Mlfr. Clark
to Georye Frlaicis Traint, it qvhlich hle sai(i he had stole, 7'lieo()ore I'iltoni's' trute story.'  Ilar the stealing of such a docim.Qn1t was done, if what I,surmise be true, is not hard to coInjecture. Some three months ago a strange paper made its
79 
TIL TON'S KTO WLEDUGE OF IT.
appearance entitled the -Rainbow. The moment I saw it I said
that is the Goldet Age print, its types, rules, hlead-lines and
all; and so it turned out to be.  The moment  I saw  tho
T7hunderbolt I said that is the Gol(den Age print, its types, rules,
head-lines and all; and I believe it will so turn out to be. It
bears the marks of Theodore Tilton too conspicuously to per mit one to whom he has so often, as he has to me, pointed out
the characteristic points of the Golden Aye to doubt this. I,
therefore, have no hesitation in expressing my belief, and rest ing upon it, that this paper was not only written by the know ledge and consent of Mr. Tilton, but that it was published by
him, or at least composed and electiotyped by him. If any doubt
this let him or her compare the Thltunderbolt with the Rainbovw,
and both with the Golden Age.
"This at first blush may seem improbable, since the Y77un derbolt is severe upon AIr. Tilton.  Evidently, however, he
realizes the futility of escape; indeed, that lie deserves it
all and more, and therefore makes a virtue of necessity and
aids in the publication, perhaps even connived to bring it
about.
"But what, upon its face, are the purposes of the Tlzt?tderboll? Ostensibly they are to show the danger by which the
Republic is threatened by the overt acts of the Federal authorities, acting under the inspiration of the Y. M. C. A. in prosecuting Woodhull, Claflin and Blood for obscenity, to protect
the reputation of MAr. Beecher, and to relieve MArs. Tilton fronm
the position into which she was thrown by the publication of
the Beecher-Tilton Scandal; but this will scarcely be held to
be its real objects by the careful, analytic reader. The reasons
to such will appear to be  1.  "To  whlitewash Air. Tilton for the part of informer
which he has played in exposing Mirs. Tilton's love for and liaisonl with MIr. Beecher, which it performs in a rather dubious
manner.
2.  " To blackwash mO for having given publicity to the
Beeclier-Tilton Scandal, which had previously only been talked
so 
CLARK REGARDS HER FA VORABL Y.
about behind the doors, which it does not do with colors that
will wash.
3. "To fix irremediably upon Mr. Beecher the fact of his
private devotion to the principles of social freedom, and to
brand him to the world as one of the most consummate and'
hypocritical villains living, which, I fear, is done only too
merciless' y.
"These, I say, are undoubtedly the motives that led to the
publication of the Th7uinderbolt.  But all of them could not
have existed in the mind of Mir. Clark; nor were they all apparent in any of his previous articles written by him and
copied into the Weekly. But MAir. Clark himself informed me
that he was in receipt of letters in which I was severely denounced, and I am informed by another, that Mr. Clark has
been' advised to treat Mirs. Woodhull in the most contemptuous manner.' Here, then, we find the source of the animus
which pervades the Thu(nderbolt, and it is the same as that
from which I believe the paper really issues.
"MIr. Clark, I have good reasons for believing, had no inconsiderable regard for me personally; but that has been more
than overbalanced by the influence that has been brought to
bear upon him since he began to write about this matter
When lie informed me that hlie was receiving very bitter letters
re,gardling me,  I at once, and frankly replied, asking their
source, and saying:' Give these letters to me to publish in the
lleekly for the benefit of the public.' I denounced as dishonest
and cowardly those who would stab me behind my back, wllhen
they have the opportunity to meet me squarely and openly;
and to those terms I now add vicious and malicious, and
hurl them all in the faces of any one who has busied him or
herself in writing letters about me all over the country, endeavoring to vitiate the truth of my statement of November 2d,
by falsehood and malice, but failing to submit them for publication in the Weekly. 
"Therefore, when I find emanating from the pen of a gentleman, who previously held me in esteem, the contemptuous
4*
8t 
$2     THE T.HUNDERBOLT CONTRADICTOR Y.
words and the still more contemptible insinuations with which
I am described in the Tlhunderbolt, I am forced to tlhe conclu sion that the real motives for them lie outside of the person
over whose name they stand.
" Another conclusive reason that Air. Clark is not the real
source of the ThI,i(lderbolt, the responsibility of which he, how ever, assumes, is that of his own knowledge he would not have
laid himself open to the terrible repulse he must now sustain.
The TItuizd(lerbolt is vulnerable at every point.
"Moreover, had the statements been entirely the work of
3ir. Clark, I have a sufficiently good opinion of his ability to
believe it would not have been so faulty in its construction as
to make it certain that, when only one of its chief corner-stones
is removed, as it will be, the whole thing will tumble in an
insignificant mass of ruins.  Besides, it is contradictory and
unreasonable in its positions, and resorts to falsehoods and unwarrantable insinuations to sustain them.  I have said to the
readers of the 117eekly that 3Afr. Clark is a gentleman. I fear
they may not be able to agree withl me when they shall come
to realize the true character of tlhe Tit/z(derbolt, whichl is supposed to represent the character of its writer, but which I
hope only represents the terrible pressure to whlich he has been
subjected by those whom he at least has honored in the past.
I freely confess that the course taken by Mr. Clark in his previous articles, excepting only a few of what I thought unnecessary epithets used about me, won for him a highl place in my
esteem; but also I freely confess that the Tlinderboll has
staggered me.  I expected great and good things of it.  I did
not think it would stoop to pander either to prejudice, position
or passion; but that it would be just what ought to be expected from a gentleman who is every inch a man.  But if the
Thl nflderbolt is found, when subjected to the crucible of stern
analysis, to be based upon other than purely and highly moral
motives, and to be elaboratel for other purposes than the vindication of truth and the establishment of justice, and that
these are promoted by falsifications and the use of unjustifi 
ITS DEFECTS TOO APPARENT.
able methods, what must the conclusion be, except that the
T/l?t(dlerbolt does not sustain the reputation of MIr. Clarkl.  If
it do not, neither lie nor lhis friends oughlt to ceinsure me for
showiiiog it, since neither lie nor they can possibly be more disal)ppointed than I shall be.
'Aind at the v-ery outset, before proceeding to the argument, I am compelled to call attention to a fact which I fear
will cast doubt e-ven ov-er other portions of the Thlntderbolt
which  ought to stand  uncliallenged.  It is of little consequence to me how it may please critics to treat me personally,
if their efforts carry forward the glorious cause to whlichl  I am
dev-oted; hence, personlally, I might consistently permit  tlhe
Tltz(1ide)bolt to stand unscathed; but its defects are too apparent to justify me in passiig  vwhat I refer to wvithout comment, or, when comment is begun, from pressing, it persistenitly to the end.   Moreover the glory of the cause of freedom
and justice will not allow me to stand pullicly convicted by
silence, of endeavoring to promote it by fraud.  Therefore,
observe the followingiT quotation from the Tuitd(lerbolt, and if,
as I said, it vitiate the vwhole afftlr let those lwho resorted to a
subterfuge so vulgar, bear the odium and not me:
"' SUSPICIOUS POETRY BY T. T.  "-[MEANING THIEODORE
TILTOXN.]
Peublished in thte " Golden Age,"  November 12, 1872, (just  after  tthe
Woodhlull accounat of the Beccher-Tilton Scandal.)
"I clasped a wom-nan's breast
As if her heart I knewv,
Or fancied would be true,
Who proved-claslts! site too False like the rest."
" Now  lhiy was this quotation made in the T7/tiuderboltspecial care being taken to state the date, and to italicize the
parenthetical explanation? Evidently to convey the idea tlat
my publication of the scandal had proved me,' too-false like
83 
SIR MA I ADU KE'S  USING S.
the rest.' I ask again, can there be any other construction
put upon this remarkable quotation? and I answer no other
can be imagined.
"But what are the facts about this poem which I now copy
entire from the Woodiull & Claflin W6ekly of date December
23, 1871, where it was copied from the Golden Age of November 12, 1871:
SIR 3MARMIADUKE'S MUSINGS.
BY TIEODORE TILTON.
"I won a noblle fame
But with a sudden frown,
The people snatched my crown,
And in the mire trod down
My lofty name.
"I bore a bounteous purse,
And beggars by the way
Then blessed me day by day;
But I, grown poor as they,
Have now their curse.
"I gained what men call friends;
But now their love is hate,
And I have learned too late,
How mated minds unmate
And friendship ends.
"I clasped a woman's breast,
As if her heart I knew
Or fancied would be true,
Who proved-alas she too! False, like the rest.
I now am all bereftAs when some tower doth fall,
With battlement, and wall,
And gate ancbridge and all  And nothing left.
84
I 
SIR M[AR ADUKE'S MUSINGS.
"But I account it worth
All pangs of fair hopes crossed,
All loves and lhonors lost,
To gain the heavens at cost
Of losing earth.
"So, lest I be inclined
To render ill for ill,
Henceforth in me instill,
Oh God, a sweet, good will
To all mankind."
SLEEPY H]OLLOW, NOVEMBER 1, 1871.
" Air. Clark is one of the editors of the Tinznderbolt, and
althouglh the poem stood in it, below the article to which his
name gives personal responsibility, he is not relieved from the
general editorial responsibility. And I can, therefore, do
no less than hold Mr. Clark responsible for this fraud, since
a fraud of the most malicious and vicious kind I must show
it to be.
"It will be seen that the poem, instead of having been published in the Golde~, Age, November 12, 1872, was really published a year before, in 1871; therefore the explanation (just
aft(er the Woodhull account of the Beecher-Tilton  Scandal)
bears the stamp of a vicious and malicious lie, invented to cast
a reflection upon me, and to question the character of the
intimlacy between Mr. Tilton and me.  If Mr. Clark is responsible for this, or even if he has permitted this to be done by
othlers-he being the only one known in the Thliundlerbolt-I
say he must have been insane to thus tamper with figures and
dates and records, and expect it to pass the scrutiny of the
world. It might, perhaps, be expected to pass the'Damphools' of wvhom Mr. Train treats, but even Mr. Clark's' ignoramus,' of 44 Broad street, ought not to be counted among
so dull a crew as that.  As if, however, to court the respoilsibility of the intentions of tl. falsehood, Mr. Clark appar
ently proceeds upon its theory, dragging them conspicuously
85 
LA RE TVOL VER L YIYG BESIDE IILI.f
into another portion of the Thunderbolt, for which he cannot
escape responsibility.  Therefore I see no escape for him from
either, and fear he has unwittingly been betrayed into some thing that a calmer survey of the field, and less reliance upon
the honor of those who write bitter letters about me would
have saved him.
"Since, however, the inspiration of this poem  has been
called up and falsely stated, I may, with consistency, give the
truth regarding it.
"Tis poem was written by Mr. Tilton, so he informed me,
in Young's Hotel, Boston, where he had gone to lecture in
Tremont Temple, on'Home,  Sweet Home,' with a revolver
lying beside himn, with which hle intended to end his misery,
leaving the poem  behind as an explanation of his suicide.
Returning, however, to his better sense, he desisted and returned home, called at my residence, 15 East Thirty-Eighth
street, read me the poem in manuscript, and gave me this history of it. It was immediately published in the Golden Age,
whereupon  Mr.  Tilton's friends  complained  bitterly that
lhe had told the whole story of his wife's infidelity by that
poem, which ought never to have been written, much less
published.
"I therefore hurl the lie and the insinuation in the face of
the manufacturer, whoever he may be, and there they shall
stick as an everlasting mark of infamy. I do not do this because I would shrink from the insinuation.  I have the honor
of informing Mr. Tilton, Mr. Clark and the world, that I shall
ever be only too happy and proud to acknowledge all the service rendered me by Mr. Tilton; and, moreover, that I never
receive or accept service of whatever kind, or contract alliances
of any sort, of which I am ashamed to accept the responsibility.
And I wish it to be distinctly understood if pretensions have
been put forward which any one thinks an honor to himself
but a disgrace to me, I shal not hesitate to correct the error
into which men usually fall; or if it requires it, to show that
whatever is to their credit is also to the credit of women. I
86 
1DAVIS' LETTER DOCTORED.
believe that the world shall come not only to know, but also to
r~,cognize that any associations between men and women cannot at the same time be honorable to the former and disgracefutl to the latter; and I have permitted many a lie to go unheeded to teach the world just this fact. It is simply nobody's
business what my social relations are, or what they have been,
unless I am found advocating publicly one thing while living
privately quite a different one.
"But since, as I believe, through the conspiracy of Mr. Tilton,
this insinuation has been publicly made in reference to himself,
I think I have the right to call upon him to publish a certain
letter of mine to him, written on four pages of wrapping paper,
which contains a statement that will either prove or disprove
what he has thus wantonly thrust before the public.  Further
on I shall have reason to refer more fully to this matter and of
what he has denominated the breach between us, but for which
he has assigned a lie as the cause.
"I have thus shown the character of one portion of the
' Thunderbolt' which has special reference to me, in order that
all other portions may be critically considered by the reader.."
Mrs. Woodhull after quoting the denial of Mrs. Davis having
informed her of the scandal remarks:  -"A letter differing
somewhat from this, but evidently having the same source,
went the rounds of the press in December. At that time I
pronounced it, so far as it denies the truth of my statement,
as false, and I now re-affirm that I have good reasons for stating that this letter has been' doctored' by Mrs. Davis' friends
since it was received. Mrs. Davis is an honorable, straightforward woman, and will not consent to lie.  Had I used her
name in this connection against her expressed wish, which I
have not, I am sure she would not deny it. Mrs. Davis knew
that I intended to use the'Beecher corruption' to bring on
the social revolution, and instead of endeavoring to dissuade,
always encouraged me to do so.  *I therefore again repeat that
I believe this letter is a forgery, and I know that at least
one of the persons behind Mr. Clark believes it to be so. I
87 
RAISED UP OF GOD.
shall never believe that Mrs. Davis will consent to have this
stand as her letter until I either see her own handwriting to
that effect or she tells me herself that it is so. I therefore
call upon Mrs. Davis to state to me in writing, which I promise in advance to publish in the Weekly, the truth or falsity of
this whole matter.
"I know that this letter has been in the hands of Mr.
Tilton, as well as others from other persons whom I named as
my authority: and I also know that had they contained the
much-needed contradiction they would have been published
authoritatively by him long since. Nevertheless, he took cure
to have it come to my ears that he had letters completely refuting my statements; but the perusal of the letters to and by
others revealed this thin pretense. They perhaps question the
language used, 6ut not tke t1iny stated. Now let this be disproved if it can be, by the publication of the original letters
from Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Stanton; all others, as I belie
are forgeries.
"According to the Woodhull, she received a letter from Mrs.'
Davis, in May, 1871, in which Mrs. D. says:
"'I believe you are raised up of God to do a wonderful work,
and I believe you will unmask the hypocrisy of a class that
none others dare touch. od help you and save you. Tile
more I think of that mass of Beecher corruption the more I
dcsire its opening.'
"In Mrs. Davis' second note from Paris, she refers to her
letter from which Mrs. Woodhull claimed to have taken this
extract, and says:
"'The reference in my letter I do not remember; but, if
there, it was in allusion to statements made by them to me.
Bu I think it was not there.'
"Now, says Mrs. Woodliull, if Mrs. Davis wrote the above,
which I do not believe she did, the following may refresh her
HOME, Wednesday.
"'Dear  Victoria:-I have prepared the manuscript and
returned it to Mr. rood. There is a sentence missing at the
end of Mrs. Stanton's address, which I have written in pencil.
88 
MRS. DAVIS' LETTER
I think if the appendix was begun in the middle of the page
it would look better. I wish that a dozen could be sent at
once to Mrs. Emily Pitt Stevens, Pioneer, San Francisco, California. Pray ask Mr. Andrews, Col. Blood-any one who has
time, to see that it comes out right this time. If he would
send me a copy before the edition is truck off it would be a
good thing.
"'It seems to me, on the whole, that it will not be best to
send the platform out in this edition-that is to bind it up
with it. The appendix closes properly with the winter's work.
The platform belongs to another season.
"  low I wish, dear, you could be here a little while, it is so
quiet and peaceful.  I wonder I ever want to go anywhereinto the turmoil and strite of life.
"'I thought of you half of last night, dreamed of you and
prayed for you.
"  I believe you are raised up of God to do a wonderful work,
and I believe you will unmask the hypocrisy of a class that
none others dare touch. God help you and save you. The
,more I think of that mass of Beecher corruption the more I
desire its opening.
"'I wish you would send me the names of the two kept
women on the platform of Boston. I will not use them till
you give me leave, but it will help me to act as I must.
"'I suppose you have seen the scrap I enclose' at all events.
it's best you should be armed at all points.
"'If Mr. Andrews will give an hour or two to that book it
will give me rest. Kind regards to him and Tennie.
"' Ever yours lovingly,
"'PROVIDENCE, May 29, 1871.            "'P. W. DAVIS."'
"Immediately after the Washington Convention in January,
1871, Mrs. Davis begun the preparation of'The Twenty
Years' History of the Woman Suffrage Movement,' which was
published under the supervision of Woodhull & Claflii by
their printer. This letter refers to that work and was written
in MIay, after the Convention in Apollo Hall, and if I remember rightly, was the first one received from her on her return
home after that convention.
"Who can read this letter, tle original of which in her own
handwriting and bearing her own signature, I happen still to
89 
MASS OF BEECHEtR CORR PTION.
have, and believe that Paulina Wright Davis ever wrote the
first letter in the Thunderbolt, pretending to be from her.  I
will not attempt here to show the inconsistencies of the several statements contained in the letter dated Paris, November
20, 1872, which that of May, 1871, does not refute, since I
have no excuse to review Mrs. Davis until I am satisfied that
she has denied something. But I may consistently show the
disparity between such points of the two letters as their own
language involves.'I did believe that V. C. Woodhull was
going to do a great work for woman; I am grieved that she
has failed in what she gave promise of doing.' Now, what
was this work? Her letter to me fully explains.'I believe
you are raised up of God to do a wonderful work; and I believe
that you will unmask the hypocrisy of a class that none other
dare touch. God help and save you. The more I think of
that mass of Beecher corruption the more I desire its opening.'
It seems clear that she conceived the great work that I was to
do was the very thing I have done and the very thing that
Mrs. Davis desired should be done.  Where, then, have I failed
to do what she believed I was raised up of God to do? And
can Mrs. Davis be grieved because I have opened just what she
desired should be opened, which'none other dare touch?'
"And she was thinking more and more of'that mass of
Beechercorrupltion.' Now,what did that mass consist of? A
mass means more than one thing of one kind, and Mrs. Davis
is a careful writer, never writing one thing and meaning
another. When she said'that mass of Beecher corruption'
she meant just what I have stated that she said to me she
learned from Mrs. Tilton, not only about herself, but all that
has more recently come to the light of day, by the publication
of Tilton's letter to Bowen regarding a member of his own
family, which is the foundation for the statement by Mirs
Tilton, that she had recently learned that Mr. Beecher had
had * * * * * * * under rrst extraordinary circumstances with
another person. What tlose extraordinary circumstances were,
may be learned by referring to Tilton's letter to Bowen. * * *
90 
BOWEN IN THE MUDDLE.'
"'I repeat that the first knowledge I had of the Beecher.
Tilton matter was imparted to me by Mrs. Davis at my office,
44 Broad street, where she called on her way over from Mrs.
Tilton's, and related to me what she had just heard from her.
But she told me nothing of Mr. Bowen. Whatever I know of
him I learned much later, from Mr. Tilton himself. Neither
did Mrs. Stanton say anything to me about the Bowen affair,
and when I published my first intimation in the World and
Times that' I knew a clergyman of eminence in Brooklyn who
lives in concubinage with the wife of another clergyman of
almost equal eminence,' I meant Mr. Beecher and Mr. Tilton.
Had I known at that time that Bowen was mixed up in the
muddle I should have used it, because he had just made a furious and unwarrantable assault upon me in a leading editorial
in the Independent.  Mrs. Davis, I am certain, did not originate this scandal, but that I first heard some of the particulars
from her I have ample proof, which will be advanced should a
denial from her ever make it necessary. But I wish parenthetically again to state my position regarding Mrs. Tilton.
I conceive that Mrs. Tilton's love for Mr. Beecher was her true
marriage, and that her marriage to Mr. Tilton, while loving
Mr. Beecher, is prostitution. If I have any cause to criticise
her, it is for consenting to remain the legal wife of Mr. Tilton,
As I said in the original article, Mrs. Tilton is really far
advanced in the principles of social freedom, as I learned from
Mr. Tilton himself.
"In view of all this, can anybody believe what IMr. Clark
infers from the pretended letters to Mrs. Davis that'Mrs.
Woodhull is flatly denied.' If there is a denial, it is Davis
against Davis. Besides this, I have a recent letter from Providence, from one who knows some of Mrs. Davis' friends, which
says:'There are not a few of her friends who do not credit
the authority of the letter.'
"As far, then as Woodhull hi  given Mrs. Paulina Wright
Davis for authority in the Deecher-Tilton Scandal, she is fairly
and flatly denied. The position, however, of Mrs. Elizabeth
a
91 
MRS. BLOOMER'S TESTIMONY.
Cady Stanton is quite different.  At Lewiston, Maine, she
undoubtedly'denounced' Mrs. Woodhuli's story, as the newspapers declared at the time; and Theodore Tilton holds a letter from her, in which she declines to stand in the precise
attitude portrayed by Mrs. Woodhull.  Yet an excellent lady,
whose letter I have traced to its source, declared in the Hartford
Ti,ntes soon after Mrs. Stanton was interviewed in Maine, that
she had charged Mr. Beecher, to parties residing in Philadelphlia, and known to the correspondent, with very much the
same offense of which Mrs. Woodhull speaks.'  This testimony
is confirmed by Edward M. Davis, Esq., the disciple and son-inlaw of the venerable Lucretia Mott, and by Mrs. Amelia
Bloomer, who asserts that Mrs. Stanton whispered the scandal
to her'a year and a half ago,' and said'the Woodhull knew all
about it.' At Rochester, not long since, Mrs. Stanton publicly
refused to deny anything; and, last of all, she has recently sent
to me, through a mutual friend, this word:'Assure Mr. Clark
that I care more for justice than for Mr. Beecher.' Mrs. Stanton, in short, has been somewhat perverted by Woodhull, and
denies the perversion.
"Why, asks Mrs. W., has the part played by Mrs. Stanton
been so niggardly treated by Mr. Clark? It seems to me that
she is of sufficient importance to have received much greater
consideration. Or does Mr. Clark know that too many people have learned the same facts from her that I learned?
People in California and Chicago, as well as in Philadelphia
and Iowa, testify to the same things. Mr. Clark says I have
lied. In what, Mr. Clark? pray inform me. And if I have
lied, do you mean to also say that Mrs. Stanton has lied? But
why does Mr. Clark say,'At Lewiston, Maine, she undoubtedly
denounded Mrs. Woodhull's story,' when he knows that she has
denied that telegraphic statement of'two clergymen.' "The
following was published in the Weekly of Feb. 15th. The following we clip from the Springfield Republican's Boston
letter:
"'Mrs. Stanton, by the way, has disclosed a curious fact
about the dispatch from Lewiston, Maine, sent all over the
country, some monthseiince, to contradict Mrs. Woodhull's
Beecher slander onMrs. Stanton's authority.  She never author
92 
IHE "JUSTITIA" LETTER.
ized such a dispatch, and asserts that the two clergymen at
Lewiston, who called on her to talk about the mattter, quite
misrepresented what she said to them.  Without going into
the general question of fact, it is understood that Mrs. Stanton's
correction of Mrs. Woodhull's account referred only to some
expressions of her own there quoted, andshe expressly disclaims
any statement that Mrs. Woodhull's story was'untrue in every
particular,' which the Lewiston dispatch made Mrs. Stanton
say, but which she never has said.'
"There has been, says Mrs. Woodhull, a great deal said by
the members of Plymouth Church about a letter from Mrs.
Stanton in the hands of Mr. Tilton, which they claim is parallel with the Lewiston telegraph despatch. Now that Mrs.
Stanton has said that' two clergymen' stated untruth in the
Lewiston dispatch, will the above-mentioned members please
publish the letter, so that the public may see if they too have
not, in their zeal for Mr. Beecher, gone as far beyond the truth
as their Lewiston friends? It will also be remembered that in
the'Justitia' letter published in the Hartford Timncs, and
dated November 25, 1872, the writer, in speaking of the reason
that this alleged denial could not have been written by her,
said:'I will tell you, Mr. Editor; simply because Mrs. Stanton dare not imperil her own reputation for veracity; for she
has herself charged Mr. Beecher to parties residing in this city
and known to me, the writer, and elsewhere, with very much
the same offenses of which Mrs. Woodhull speaks.'
"In direct connection with the above, we find the following
in the Patriot, of Chariton, Iowa:
"'In the Council Bluffs N)npareil Mrs. Amelia Bloomer
says: In the general condemnation of Mrs. Woodhull for publishing the scandal told to her, the question of its truth or
falsity is in a great measure lost sight of. A. B. does not
believe that Mrs. Woodhull manufactured these stories; and
now that the thing is out, she would like to see' the BeecherTilton Scandal" tried on its merits.  One year and a half ago
this scandal was whispered in the ears of A. B. by one of the
parties given as authority, by "se Woodhull," and the one so
whispering gave Mr. Tilton himself as her authority. She
93 
MRS. TILTON'S LETTER.
further said that "the Woodhull" knew all about it, and threatened its publication. This agrees, as far as it goes, with the
stat(-ment of WVoodhull, and proves she did not get up the story
for the purpose of "blackmailing."  A. B. has kept this scandal to herself, and never would have revealed her knowledge if
it had not come so fully before the public.  While deploring,
for the sake of all parties concerned, for the sake of the church,
for the sake of decency and good morals, that it has ever come
to light, she hopes, now it is out, that truth will be elicited and
justice done-that the chief actors may receive their share of
punishment, instead of being shielded from censure, while the
talebearer alone is condemned.' It is useless to add more to
this. Neither of these refer in the slightest manner to the
s)ltution of the matter by the Bowen affair; nor are they based
upon' Iruimors' or'hallucinations.'  It is preposterous simply,
to attempt to evade the fact that Mr. Tilton is the authority to
more than me for the details of the Beecher-Tilton, not the
Beecher-Bowen, Scandal. I have only to ask if Mrs. Stanton
could have denied the truth of my statement regarding Mrs.
Tilton, would she not have done it long ago? Everybody must
unhesitatingly answer yes.  But instead of this, her letter to
Laura Curtis Bullard, which Mr. Tilton has in his possession,
only qualifies the language used, but not the thing said.  I
believe she claims she did not say that Mr. Tilton called Mr.
Beecher a damiled lecherous scoundrel.
"I am satisfied to let it remain as Mr. Clark concluded,' Mrs.
Stanton in short, has been somewhat perverted by Woodhull,
but denies the perversion.'
Referring to the story of the Tl7underbolt as to the manner
in which MIrs Tilton was dishonored, Mrs. W.  says:-" As  a
correction to this introduction to the'true story,' I ask Mr. Tilton
to publish to the world at certain letter received from Mrs. Tilton,
during her absence from Brooklyn at a' watering-place,' in the
summer o'f 1871, and refresh his own memory somewhat about
the facts therein treated of. I remember them very distinctly.
Perhaps he will accommodate Mr. Clark with the loan of that
letter. Will Mr. Clark please manage to steal that letter if Mr.
Tilton will not loan it? I assure you it will give a great deal
of light as to my truth o& falsity; and if Mr. Tilton will not
loan you the letter, and you cannot manage to steal it, please
94
t 
GRIFFITH GAUNT.
ask him if that letter did not state that Mrs. Tilton said she
had been reading' GrWffi7t Gautnt,' and thiat niqht, while on her
knees till midnight, she had awakened to tile horrible crime she
had commitlted against her husbaned.  I am sorry to be obliged
to jog AMr. Tilton's memory on these poitts; but JMr. Clark might
also ask him if, in that letter, she did not state tihat she felt that
site lad been divorced from him, and that she should never live
with him again unless they were remarried. Again, it may not
be invidious to inquire, what was the cause of the misunderstanding between Mr. and Mrs. Tilton, which could cause Mrs
Tilton to feel divorced? Surely the refusal to accept Mr
Beecher's kind proposals could not have been a cause for divorce!
Such faithfulness is generally repaid by other treatment than
this. But let us have the letter. Do not let this redst upon my
word merely when so good proof exists. If Mr. Tilton prepares a'true story and permits it to be'stolen' let it be a
'true one,' not a partly true one, but a wholly true one-a halftruth always being a lie.
Commenting upon the Thunderbolt's account of how Beecher
obtained his vindication from Mrs. Tilton, Mrs. Woodhull
says:  "Here we have as tangled a web as was ever unraveled.
But does it explain away the original statement upon these
facts?  Read both carefully and then consider the following
which I purposely omitted stating at the time, as I had no
desire to introduce Mr. Beecher to the public, in any light
other than was necessary for my purpose. But the above is
given to the public, as will be believed, by Mr. Tilton's consent.
and I am therefore justified in saving that what is here called
his' true story' differs in some material points from the story
he told me, which was this:
" Ile said after he hqd learned of the facts, and while Mrs.
Tilton was still dangerously ill from the premature birth of a
child induced by his treatment, that he met Mr. Beecher at
Frank Moulton's and there confronted him; that they endeavored to compel Mr. Beecher to terms, and that the interview
was suddenly terminated by Mr. lecher begging to be excused
for a few momients until hecould consult a friend.  This was
0
95 
A TAN1GLED WEB.
granted. He left them, returning in an hour or so, his manner entirely changed. His suing for mercy was turned into
defiance.  He simply rang the door bell and said;'Gentlemen.
I do not see fit to prolong this interview; I have got my vindication in my pocket,' and turned upon his heel and incontinently left.                    d
"He said both he and Frank were utterly astonished at the
conduct of Mr. Beecher, but it was fully explained when he
returned to his home, where Mrs. Tilton, in deep distress, stated that Mr. Beecher had been there, and that she had signed
some paper she scarcely knew what, but she was afraid it was
something that might do harm. It was then that Mr. Moulton
went to Mr. Beecher, and in the manner  I have already
described, demanded the document. No such rendition as the
one given in the'true story' was ever given to me either by
Mr. Moulton or Mr. Tilton. and it is entirely inconsistent with
his conduct toward Mrs. Tilton, and his grief and rage before
me, and especially his conduct when he took me to ride to the
grave where was buried, as he said, the fruits of Mr. Beecher's
intimacy with his wife, at which time sitting onr the Battle
Hill Monumenlt, he went anew over the whole story, including
the stamping of the wedding ring into the soil of the grave.
It is also utterly inconsistent with the sentiment of the poem
in which is'She, too, false like the rest.' And what was the
great grief that caused him to walk the streets of Brooklyn the
whole night inconsolable, as he has done night upon night
either alone or with Mr. Moulton; and his constantly expressed
desire'to die as he had nothing to live for in this world?'
The purported  faithfulness of Mrs. Tilton in saving  Mr.
Beecher friom becoming an adulterer ought to have made Mr.
Tilton extremely happy in her possession. Or was he distracted because she did resist the persuasions of Mr. Beecher?
But I have no desire at this time to call attention to the other
discrepancies between Mr. Tilton's statements to me and his
'true story,' except to say that my statement stands, made by
me as I received it, fact after fact from Mr. Tilton himself,
most of which were also confirmed by the several witnesses
whom I have mentioned.  Had Mr. Tilton never told the same
story to others than to me, I might feel called upon to go into
a detailed proof of the whole matter; but since he has so
repeated it to a half dozen persons whom I know, I do not
think it necessary to reftue his later and amended statement.
The public will place it side by side with mine, and give due
96
4b 
DID NOT MEET ACCIDENTALL Y.
weight to the fact that the amended statement was prepared
under the bias of an emergency which, perhaps, he did not
contemplate when hle made the former and unbiased statement
to me and  Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Col. Mix and othIers;
although I ouglht to say that Mr. Tiltoen always gave me to
understand that he should be glad when the matter was out,
but that he should not want to be the one to first move in it.
Next Mrs. W. reviews the manner in which she made Theodore's acquaintance and says:   "Mr. Tilton did not meet me accidentally in company with
a mutual friend, tut he came to my office with Stephen Pearl
Andrews and was introduced to me, and this was the only time
I ever saw him previous to that when li he called with the TVorll.
To others he has said that upon that occasion I sent for him
to come to see me.  In his' true story'he bas neglected to do
this, and he does so because he knows it is not true. I neither
sent for him  nor thrust the IForld before him when he did
come. He came of his own accord with the article ill question
from the WVorld, and asked me:'Whom do you mean by
that?   But thie idea that an exagg-rated rumor that had
been travelling about for a year or two, which le could have
instantly corrected if false, but which hle did not even attempt
to do, might become very dangerous in my hands, would be
preposterous if it were not ridiculous. I do not think any
logical mind can read this part of the'true story' and not
conclude. if it be true, that there is still another true story
which he at least has not told, and that the magnified proportion of the campaign which was planned to capture ine is only
to be believed upon the theory that what I knew, which it
was necessary should be kept quiet, was not exaggerated
rumors merely.
"It must be remembered that this occurred in the spring of
1871, soon after the May Convention in Apollo hI-all. It will
also be seen by reference to the'true story,' that this imbroglio with Mrs. Tilton began'in the fall of 1870;' that it was
'six weeks' thereafter that Mr. Tilton explained the matter
5
97
0 
EXAGGERATED RUMORS.
to Mr. Bowen, after which the other facts occurred. But it
was' eight months after the commencement of the BeecherTilton differences' that Mr. Beecher visited Mrs. Tilton and
got the letter from her. Now this would carry the time forward at least to August 1871, and yet I am found possessed of
'exaggerated rumors' regarding it in May of the same year,
before they happened, which'had already been travelling
about for a year or two.' Figures are dangerous things with
which to attempt a lie, because they always mean definite
things and the same things to all people. In constructing a
' true story,' Mr. Tilton should have made more careful use of
such a dangerous agent. Of course he presumes that he can
place his own word in opposition to mine, and be believed;
but he is not egotist enough to imagine he can arrange figures
to suit himself, and be able to palm them off as correct when
any one is liable to prove them. The failure to keep his time
correctly, to my mind, will invalidate his'true story' to no
inconsiderable extent, in the minds even of those who may
wvish to accept and believe his false one. Mr. Clark ought to
have been clear enough to have detected this discrepancy in
the'True' Statement."
"'On statements furnished by Mrs. Woodhull and Colonel
Blood, Mr. Tilton finally made the last bold stroke to win the
undying gratitude of 44 Broad street by giving his name and
the literary finish of his pen to the "Biography of Victoria C.
Woodhull." He was mistaken, he now thinks, in that person.
With the Woodhull " gratitude" is nothing, "principle" every thing; and principle in her case, as in Vanderbilt's, is to "carry
a point." Mr. Tilton had a terrible warning of this phase of
her character, when some of his lady acquaintances and special
friends deemed it necessary, in the early part of 1872, to dis own Mrs. Woodhull in the arena of Woman's Rights on account
of her social doctrines. The Woodhull instantly flanked the
movement by sending the ladies printed slips of their own
private histories (in anarticle called "Tit for Tat,") declaring
that if they should disgrace her for teaching'social freedom,'
she would print the article in her Weekly, and they should sink
with her for practicing the theory.'
98 
TILTON WRITES HIS BIOGRAPHY.'
"I scarcely know," says Mrs. Woodhull "in what manner
justly to characterize the misconstruction contained in the
above paragraph. To properly show all the circumstances in volved would require an entire paper, which is impossible here,
but as it refers to circumstances that have been variously and
widely commented on, and in a manner most prejudicial to me,
I feel that I ought not to pass them without the notice they
deserve.
"Mr. Tilton, upon several public occasions, long before my
publication of the scandal, regretted that he had written my
biography, in a manner and with explanations that perhaps
ought at the time to have received notice. The statement
here, however, is very guarded, compared with some others he
has made. Just previous to the writing of that biography.
The Victoria League had been formed, and it was found necessary to put some authoritative statement before the world regarding my past life in the form of an autobiography. I put
Col. Blood in possession of the material, and requested him to
arrange it for me. While he was doing this, Mr. Tilton came
forward with the proposition that this must be his work, and
he insisted so strenuously on performing it that I consented,
and he did it. But he did not take the manuscript prepared
by Col. Blood as his only authority. All the important or
scemingly extravagant statements he took special pains to
verify by other authority, while all the' finish,' and that which
upon its face is his own, and which really gives it all its importance, was the result of his own observation and was his
own judgment. He may, for aught I know, have written that
biography for sonime motive unknown to me; but it is absurd
to pretend that it was to keep me from publishing the scandal,
the basis for the whole of which, as I have already shown according to his figures, did not at that time exist.
"But what, as early as the Cincinnati Convention, had occurred to cause him to chlange his judgement of me? He had
found me a'truthful person,' and one with whom  he wat
.                       j   ~~~~~~~~~~..  -* 
,_    _     -                     Hee I*
0
99 
I DETER MINED TO STOP IT.
proud to be known or connected. Something must have compelled a change. He has stated on some occasions that it was
the' Tit for Tat' above referred to. What was that article?
I will state just what it was, and thus at one and the same
time correct the erroneous version given above, and show that
it was not the cause of the breach between Mr. Tilton and me.
A number of women, all of whom belonged to' one set,' had
for two years taken every occasion to let their long and loose
tongues wag in defaming me. I determined to stop it. I
grouped them together in an article which I had put in type,
sending a proof of it to each of the persons involved. In the
next issue o'f the Wteekly I wrote an editorial, in which I faithfully promised them if the blackguarding of me did not cease
I should publish the article.
"Not one of these, however, was'some of his lady acquaintances and special friends,' who  disowned me'in the arena of
Woman's Rights''on account of my social theories,' since
none of them had ever taken any part with the wing of suffragists in which I labored. Nor was it because they disowned
me as a suffragist that I prepared the article, as Mr. Tilton's
' true story relates? And nobody knows this better than Mr.
Tilton himself. He knows it was because I was constantly
belied by them as to what Free Love meant to me in practice.
The editorial to which I refer sufficiently explains this, and it
was not misunderstood by any of them at whom it was writ ten. I have had no occasion to publish it."
"'This generalship may be defended by the old proverb that
"anythling is fair in love and war;" but such a blow "under
the belt" was severely rebuked by MArs. Stanton, and was
regarded with reasonable terror by Mr. Tilton. He now became fully conscious of Mrs. Woocdhull's capacity of dclestruction, and retired completely from her circle.  The impeu(ling
crack of doom" was not to be hushed up with " gratitude."
Mr. Tilton had himself_confidedl the substance of his " true
story" to Mrs. Woodlhut, and knew that so much of his fate
was in her hands.  Still, he affirms that lie wag astonished be;ond measure when she at last magnified it into the unearthly
proportions of the Beecher-Tllton Scandal.'
a
100 
REASONABLE TERROR.
"What does Mr. Tilton mean," asks Mrs. W, "when he
says,' I was severely rebuked by Mrs. Stanton?' I have Mrs.
Stanton's letter to me regarding it; but when he says it in the
form of a rebuke he only again wilfully perverts it. I never
received a kinder note from Mrs. Stanton than that one, and I
therefore hurl this utter disregard for truth in his teeth as another evidence that he has' a constitutional disregard for
truth which is ever showing itself when an opposite course
would serve him better.
"' Now, as to the' terror' it inspired in Mr. Tilton, and' the
terrible warning' it was to him, and his'retiring completely
from her circle,' I am perfectly conscious that he was terrified
by it, since he came with it to me, and said Laura Curtis Bullard had just left his office, having come there with the article
which he held in his hand. He said,' Strike out this portion,'
pointing to a part of it,' and I will help you kill the rest.' But
he played none of the' heroics' with which he has been in the
habit of relating this interview, which he says occurred in his
office instead of mine-only another evidence of his constitutional defect. Theodore Tilton never attempted heroics with
me but once, and he found they did not have the desired effect
and lie at once and forever abandoned their use; but he has
become so accustomed to them when others are involved, that
when I am not present he forgets himself and assumes them in
things which involved me.
"' He had bccome fully conscious of Mrs. Woodhull's capacity
for destruction and retired completely firom her circle, and this
he presents as the cause of the breach between us to which I
refer in the opening of this case.  But before proceeding to
perform a disagreeable task, I must premise by saying I had
hoped that selfish personal considerations on the part of Mr.
Tilton, if no higher motive, would have for ever saved me from
the necessity of doing this; but since he seems to court distinction, let him have it to his heart's content.'
"I therefore state, as em.phatlcally as I can, that it was not
'Tit for Tat' that caused him to' retire from her circle.'  At
the time he came to me with that article I had not seen him
101 
SUrE HAS BEEN HIS TEACHER.
for six weeks, and I should not have seen him then had it not
been for' reasonable terror' thiat something regarding a particular friend of his whiclh it contained was going to be made
public.' But he did call quites frequently after that, during
the interval until the Cincinnati Convention. The day before
he left to attend that Convention  he called upon me for the
last time.
' He said lie was' going to the Convention to report it for
the Tribune.'
"I said, "Theodore you are lying again.  You are going to
Cincinnati to nominate Nir. Greeley, and I see, clairvoyantly, a
coffin following you, in which you will be responsible for putting him, because it will result in his death.'
"He sat looking and listening to me, and for a long time
never said a word; but finally, with a sad tenderness I shall
never forget, rose and left me, and I have never spoken with
him since.  Up to that time lie had never even hinted that lie'
regretted his associations with me; but, on the contrary,
always  expressed  a deep  satisfaction  regarding  it,  the
reasons for which I have no desire to make public, unless
compelled, when I shall not hesitate to do so to the fullest
extent.
"But to return to the time prior to the' Tit for Tat' article.
A goodly time before that I was forced to the conclusion, in
spite of all his efforts in behalf of reform, that his inspirations
and mine were entirely dissimilar. I was absolutely absorbed
in reform projects, and was indifferent to any and all who were
not the same; and I could no longer afford to be annoyed in
the manner in which I was annoyed by him. As he would not
accept a verbal communication from me as meaning anything,
I was finally compelled deliberately to write a formal letter,
which I know was delivered to him, and a copy of which I now
have before me, instructing him that his visits to me, both at
my house and office mus  be discontinued, plainly stating the
reasons for so doing. They were not for any want of esteem
and kind regard, because I had a regard amounting almost to
102
0 
STAND BY PRIVCIPLE.
affection for him.  Besides, I had been his teacher in the principles of the new social dispensation, and I found elements in
him that I was hopeful might make him the hero of that dispensation.  That hope I never finally abandoned until a few
days after the appearance of his letter to' my complaining
friend.'  On Christmas day last I wrote him a final appeal,
endeavoring to rouse him to a sense of what he was losing,
and to stimulate him, even in that late moment, to come forward and be the hlero:
'"' CHRIST)[AS DAY, NIEW YORK CITY, 1872.
"' TIIEODORE:-TThe spirit saitlh unito me, " AVlite:" " And
the truth shall make 3you free,"-wliile anything less tllhan that
will add to the )bondage of the present.
' I told you, a year ago, that withini six mnonths )you would
fall away from inc.  "1 By all that's good, never!" -yout replied.
Nevertheless the fall cainme!
"' I told yout that you were going to lead your friend to his
grave; you thoughlt it would be to the Presi(dential chlair.  He
lies buried-ta victim to the ill-starred movement  led off by
you.
"' You became a champion of advanced freedom in your support of me; and( your -name was oli the lips and treasured in
the heart of every Rad(lical in the world.  You repudiated the
course that had won this love, and neither Radical nor Conservative stands by you.
"' And liw I say: There is a single course of redemption
left yout; and for your own sakle I pray you heed it.  Accept
the situation.  Stand by principle, anld be not  afrighlitedl by
public opinion.
"' You have the most glorious opportunity ever vouchsafed
to man.  Strike the hypocrite (if you will) the blow you have
at your service; but put your loving, protecting armn about the
angel whom hlie deceived. Dare to defend her fireedom, and
stand by her, not to the death, but to the new life.
"'Think not to gain what you desire, by catering to the hypocrisy, the poltroonery, the cowardice of the present; but
strike for the glorious and redeemed souls of the near future,
and become their hero.           e                  VICTORIA.
"Since then I am grieped to confess I have believed him
lost, lost to the cause, lost to himself, and lost to all sense of
103 
W. REGRETS THEODORL'S POSITIO-.
lhonor and truth. I believed firmly that he would come forward as he had so often said he would, when the time should
arrive, and stand by the cause. Hie knew that the statement
of November 2d was to be published, and that I only wanted
to receive the command of him, whoni I serve, to publish it.
Well do I remember an evening when he and I were discussing
this very subject, thlat Col. Blood turned from the desk at
which he was writing, and said:
' Theodore, do you think you will have the courage to stand
in the gap with us when that time shall come?'
"lie replied with the most extraordinary asscrvations in the
affirmative; and when the whole history of the incipiency of
this scandal shall come to be known, as it soo11 will, if justice
cannot be forced without it, I fear that the once glorious spirit
of Theodore Tilton will set in the mud.  Nobody, not even
those who are now apparently his best firiends, will mourn for
him more sincerely than I shall; and whatever they may pretend to him now, not onle of them more deeply regrets his
position than I do, and none would do more to save him than
I would do, short of the sacrifice of truth, honor and justice.
And  in his soul Theodore Tilton knows this to-day; but he
also knows that my sense of outrag,ed justice  could not be
swerved to save my own life; an(d here I again say, there is still
an avenue of escape for him.  Ile knows wlihat it is, but hlie will
not avail himself of it.'Whom the gods wvould destroy they
first nlmake mad.'  Theodore Tilton rests under their ban.  I
knowi whereof I speak when I say that his affirmations'that
hlie was astonished beyond mneasure' when the scandal appeared,
were of the same unapproachable acting, in wlich long practice has made him perfect, with which hlie received the announcemnent that the T/unllerbolt had appeared; and the inspiration
in both instances was the same-knowledge atd expectation.
]Ir. Tilton did confide all the details of the Beecher-BowenProctor Scandal to me, beides a dozen others equally astonishing and conlfounding; but those that I obtained from him in
this way I have not used in my  war upon social rottenness,
104 
ANAL YSIS OF T1tE TR UE STORY.
neither shall I unless compelled; but what I have used I was
not indebted to his confidence for, since I wrung it from him,
perhaps not so skillfully as he did the Bowen Scandal from the
lady involved, nevertheless with sufficient adroitness to become
fully possessed of it without being under any obligations to
not disclose it.
"Mr. Tilton having disclosed to me,'knew so much of his
fate was in her hands.'  Mr. Tilton cotld not have considered
the force of those few words, otherwise he never would have
used them. If his'true story' is really a true one, and the
only true one, what had I to do with fate to him?  Ihow could
I possibly have been able to do him harm by any use whllichl I
might make of the so-called facts of that story? It is one of
the most difficult of roles to maintain to endeavor to tell a
consistent stream of lies about any grave thing. A lie once
told needs continual lies to sustain it; and people forget lies,
and neglect to always tell the same one. The truth will sometimes slip out unwittingly. This instance is a siingularly forcible illustration.:ly possession of the really true story he
might consistently have considered as so muchl of his fate in
my lhands; but with his true story only he should-have said so
muclh of MAr. Beeclier's fate in my hands.  I have no doubt
every person will at once perceive this.  And with  this I may
close the analysis of the matter very nearly in the language of
Mir. Clark with whicli he closes thie presentation of his resuine
of the'true story:'
"Such  is a careful summary of that'true story' which
Theodore Tilton said lie should try to keep within his own
heart.
"Changed, however, in this wise:
"[Suclh is the result of a hasty analysis of the whole story
which, if Theodore Tilton did not desire made public, he
should front the outset, have confined within his breast.]
"'As far as A3r. Beechler i!Pconcerned, it will instantly be
seen that his virtue, at best, is not always the inclination of his
own will.  If Mrs. Woodhull has misrepresented him, and Mr.
5*
105
0 
THE DA Y OFP JUDGMET.
Tilton has turned her falsehood into truth, still it was only
through Beecher's failure in carrying out an immoral purpose
that Mfrs. Woodhull's story is not correct.  A correspondent
of the Cincinnati Commercial-who has evidently been admitted into some of the secrets of Tilton's foolscap volume, and
at the same time employed to whitewash Beecher-declares that
the'true story' embraces'a period of ten years,' implicates
'persons who have not publicly figured in it' and' elucidates
some things not likely to be known till the Day of Judgment."
'These stilted phrases have some foundation, though it
would not be difficult for so plain a man as myself to bring that
Day of Jud(glnent" close to hand, if necessary.  I have no
wish, however, to drag any cringing mortal before the public in
mere wantoinness-especially aiiy woman.   I regoard IHeiry C.
Bowen as Beeclier's chief"  supe" and conspirator, in cornl)ining
with the wretched Jesuit of Protestantism, Anthony J. Comstock, to violate American liberty.  Fromn my position, Bowen
deserves no mercy beyond the bare truth.  In regard to other
persons, I think the public have no special interest in them,
with one exception.'
"Nowv here the cause, says Mrs. W., which makes the case
hang fire in Brooklyu, is at last reached.  Clark could, if he
saw fit, bring the day of judgment close to hand, but he lhas
no wish to drag a cringing wvoman before the public.  Ihtad it
been my desire, as the act has been generally interpreted, to
destroy the usefulness of Beecher and to drive him from
Plymouth Church, I could have made such use of the material
in my possession as to have accomplished it.  Ite could not
have escaped lander hlaving me prosecuted on an impossible
charge of obscenity.  lie would either have had to throw himself upoln the church and confessed or prosecuted me for libel,
which I know very well hlie would never attempt to do so long
as three witnesses now living should live.  But such was not
any part of my motives, and I only used such facts as I had
good reasons for believin,would not be very objectionable to
any of the parties involved, B13eechler alone excepted. And I
know that, should hlie be compelled, as he would have been, had
106 
FIEW OF THE WHOLE CASE.'
Tilton acted well his part, to have acknowledged the whole
matter, that Plymouth Church would be compelled to sustain
or fall with him. Beecher did not hesitate to say that he knew
of fifty members of his congregation who would stand by him
in any event.
"But the suppression policy cannot succeed.  Everything
will eventually be made public. It has gone too far. All the
facts are in possession of too many persons, some of whom, I
think, do wish to kill Beecher, and who will not hesitate to
drag even a'cringing woman' before the public to do it.  The
only method of salvation, as I frankly informed Beecher, was
to come at once to the front and say:'Well this is true, and
now what are you going to do about it?'
"But I frankly confess that I believe the ultimate fate of the
now distressed woman, who every hour of her life stands in
mortal dread of the facts coming before the public, would be
much better if she were herself to come out and solve this
whole matter. It will come some time, and the indications
now are that it is not far off. There should be no more real
disgrace attached to her about the affair, than there should be
had she personally been injured in some other manner. No
honest person could condemn her for any part she was compelled to play, and for the judgment of the dishonest none
should trouble themselves. Thierefore, the wise part is to at
once ventilate this whole affair before its attempted suppression
drags a half dozen other families into its yawning vortex.
"'As I view the whole case, in all its bearings, I deem it
right to say that Tilton claims that he has been violently hated
by his wife's mother,' Irs. Morris-a lady who is definitely
represented to me as insane.
"' This poor lady is said to have circulated, for many years,
the most damaging reports against the character of her daughter, and against Beecher and Tilton.  The earliest scandals
concerning Mrs. Tilton and  ie Plymouth pastor are said to
have proceeded from her. I must add, also, that a long time
ago there were rumors, among the special acquaintances of the
107 
THE CAT 0 UT OF THE.VA G.
parties, that Mrs. Tilton was subject to the hallucination that
some of Beecher's children were those of her own household
(But Tilton's narrative affords me no hint of this rumor.)
"I think it was very unwise in Tilton to attempt to drag
his mother-in-law into the controversy. But what must be
said of the'rumors' among Whe special acquaintances of the
parties about Mrs. Tilton's'hallucination?' Those strange
rumors remind me at once of the finding of Moses in the bulrushes of the Nile, and of the immaculate conception of Jesus;
and I have no doubt if Tilton's'true story' stands, that this
last hallucination will pass into history and be accounted by
the future as an equally marvelous example of the special
providence3 of the God of the Christians.
"But this hallucination, as I happen very well to know, did
not extend to Tilton's brain, but in him it rather assumed the
form of madness, venting itself in violence, especially upon
the picture of one of the persons ilnvolved in the hallucination.
Whatever milder forms it may n)w have assumed in him, I
fear its former violence mav cast as serious (doubts upon tlhe
future divinity of this last manifestation as the skeptics of today throw around that of ci,lghtecen ccenturies ago.
"What, however, must be the judgm,nit of tlhec future should
it come to know that this paper, this Tl?1ndetbol7t, was prcpared
in the rooms of the Goldenl Age, and when it shlall come to be
known that the letter of'my complaining friend,' whicl] called
out the reply contained in the Tltudllerboll, was actually written by the dictation of Theodore Tilton, and that at the time
it was written he was preparing the way to publis  in the
Golden Age the whole of the' true story.'  I do not think I
overstate it vwhlen I say that no such combination of llhypocrisy,
duplicity, falsehood and social irregularities ever existed as the
future will show the B13eecher-Tiltoii-Bowen-Proctor Scan(lal to
have been:  and I am  ready to stake my future upon its
being so.                  e
"  And now what'conclusion is to be (drawn fiom Tilton's
tlhun(derbolt" on one landcl anld 3Irs. Woodlhull's  vaunted
108 
AND EVER IS JUSTICE DONE.
"bombshell" on the other? I am sorry to say I have little
confidence in the strict veracity of either account.'
"But Clark, apparently unwittingly, has let the cat out of
the bag, since does he not say,'Tilton's Thunderbolt?   That
is sufficient.  It cannot be Clark's Thunderbolt if it be Tilton's;
and, moreover, does he not say that he has very little confidence in the strict veracity of it? And if he has as little in
my bombshell, I can afford to wait yet a little longer. I know
the truth will come out uppermost, and I court its coming.
Almost everybody else who is concerned in the affair seems to
be using the most superhuman exertions to'squelch' the
whole thing. So much, at all events, would appear at present
to stand in my favor; and those who have seen fit to daub me
all over with contemptous epithets, will have more cause to be
ashamed of them in the future than I have now. I can afford
to stand under the implication of having'belied Mrs. Davis,'
and of having'warped and stuffed out' Mrs. Stanton, because
I know that
"'E. ver the riglit comes uppermost,
And ever is justice done."
Of that part of the Thlundlerbolt devoted to Mrs. Woodhull,
this gifted, but singular woman says:  "Were it not for a single point, I should pass without notice
'The fall of the Thundlerbolt on WAVoodhlull herself,' and as that
is the special one that-more than all others-causes me to
doubt the thorough honor and consistency of Mr. Clark, I will
touch it first, although in order of succession it should be last.
IIe says:' Its proprietors have lately had the kindness to publishl my circular without request or leave. Its advertisements
are gratuitous blinds.'  Mr. Clark must surely have forgotten
himself to have made this fling at me, to which I make bold to
say, the most debauched Bohemian in New York would not
have stooped.  Eveii had I ppblislied his  circular without
request or leave, hlie oglltpas a gentleman, to have accepted it
as a journalistic courtesy, and refrained from dragging it into
109 
WOODHULL DEFENDS HERSELF.
this controversy. Besides, what has it to do with the question
at issue? Does that have any bearing upon the truth or falsity of the Scandal? I confess I cannot see that it does. My
'ignorance' may, however, prevent me from seeing it.  What
business had Mr. Clark to do this- thing? But it happens that
I did not publish his circular without request or leave. Mr.
Clark, in a letter to me, sent a dozen of his circulars, and in
the letter requested me to notice their contents. Instead, however, of writing any notice, I ordered the circular, or parts of it,
published. It may barely be possible that this may have slipped his memory; but on no other ground can I forgive so outrageous a breach of courtesy.
"And, pray, what have my'other moods' to do with the
effect of' The Thunderbolt upon Woodhull;' and what, pray,
upon the truth or falsity of the Scandal, which Mr. Clark has
taken specific pains to assert,'as having honestly sought
nothing but truth in scrutinizing the Beecher-Tilton Scandal?'
Suppose I am'out of my head;' that I am an enthusiast;'
that I see' angels' or' demons;' that'I swagger like a pirate,'
and' scold like a drab,' what has all that to do with arriving
at the truth of the Scandal? Can Mr. Clark inform me?
Perhaps he may be cajoled into furnishing me the facts in his
possession about this swaggering and scolding. If he can, I
will make all possible haste to publish them. Come, Mr. Clark,
you have said this; now send on the facts, because I am
anxious to be well informed regarding myself upon these
points as you seem to be.
"And why does he seek to belittle me by saying I am'igno rant,' that I never write my'great speeches' or' stirring edi torials? How can he know all this? The resort to this con temptible meanness by my enemies to endeavor to injure me
in the esteem of those who can only know me by repute, is the
best possible evidence that they can find no better means by
which to attempt it. l7r two years I have stood before the
world, almost alone, as the pronounced advocate of social free
110 
SHE BLOWS HER  OWN HORN.
dom, and I have been the butt of ridicule, of abuse and of censure from almost everybody who writes for the public press,
and now, at this late day, when, still almost alone, I am fighting the battle of a free press and free speech against the combined powers of state and church, it was entirely uncalled for
on the part of Mr. Clark to enter the arena, and attempt-to
destroy any part of my strength, and to stab me in the back in
the house of my friends. Perhaps this act of unkindness may
be the very one to make it impossible to withstand the immense odds pitted against me, and I go a martyr to the Infernalism of the Christianity of the nineteenth century. But I do
not intend that it shall accomplish this. I intend that Mr.
Clark's effort to aid the enemies of reform in their crusade
against it in my person shall fall dead upon the ears and hearts
of every lover of freedom in the country. Had I been strong
financially, and backed up by powerful friends; had I been a
man even lacking these, the reformatory world might have forgiven Mr. Clark this ungenerous aid to the enemy; but lacking all these, having to struggle personally against all sorts of
obstacles, and with few friends who have the moral courage to
stand pronouncedly and boldly with me, it was a most cowardly attack, and I am sorry, for Mr. Clark's sake, that the bitterness of Theodore Tilton or of any body else should have
been so potent with him as to induce him to stoop so ungenerously; and so on to the end, through all the rest of his presentation of me personally; but I refrain from following him.
The judgment of the reformers of the world will, however,
do so, and it will be inexorable, since they will come, sooner
or later, to know tlit Mrs. Woodhull  is not'only a tremendous horn that Col. Blood is now blowing in front of
Jericho,' but that she, of all persons, insists on blowing her
own horn."
Mrs. Woodhull having noted, as above some of the "misrepresentations," as she stles them, of the Thunderbolt, thus
sums up her case:
111 
NSRS. TIL TON NOT CONDEMNED.
SUMMING UP.
"It is desirable that a thorough summing up of the whole
case should be made, a careful and just review of all that has
transpired regarding it up to the present time, so that a just
judgment of it, as it stands to-day, may be arrived at. This,
however, is a task that time makes it impossible for me
to perform to present in this week's issue of the Weekly.
"But next week I shall do this.  I shall go back to the
starting point of this scandal to fasten its source were it
belongs. I shall trace it from that source through all its
ramifications up to date. I shall compare the various statements and facts which appeared previously to November 2nd
with those that have been put forth since, and endeavor to
find a solution for their discrepancies. And I think I am
not presuming too greatly to say, that if any now have
doubts as to the substantial truth of all that I said November 2nd, they will be removed when the reviews shall have
been read.
"This will be done, however, with no view to the conviction
if it must be so regarded, of MArs. Tilton. I should have
been glad never to have mentioned her name in the affair, but
some one of the several I had at command had to be used. It
was useless simply to charge MIr. Beeclher with an offense. It
was necessary to give the specifications upon which the charge
was founded.  I am glad, however, that in all the discussion
that has grown out of it, her name has been seldom mentioned, and I have yet to hear her condemnation from the
lips of any one.
"Had Mir. Tilton, or his friends for him, been satisfied to
let the matter rest there, I should never have written another
word as to the truth or falsity of the clarge, so far as MIrs.
Tilton is concerned.  I was perfectly satisfied to have accomplished what I aimed a-to establish  the fa,ct that Ihenry
Ward Beecher, notwitlhstanding his professiois, is at heart and
in practice just as much a Free Lover as I am; and that
112 
MRS. TILTON N_OT CONDEMNED.
Plymouth Church is a Free Love Church, and ought to stand,
as it will have ultimately to do, side by side with me in the advocacy of social freedom. Of this, since the appearance of the
7Thunderbolt, no sensible person can entertain a doubt. Mr.
Beecher stands before the world as one who believes it his
right as an individual to administer his social relations as
pleases himself, and Plymouth Church as upholding him.
This was all I desired, and the attainment of it has been made
much sooner than I had any hope it would be.
"But they have made the attempt to cast me into the lie,
and this my own sense of right compels me to repel, and I
shall do it with all the ability I can command  in the use of
facts already before the public; but as I have often said before,
I shall not be betrayed into a full showing of my case unless
the course against me shall be such as to force me to it; and
I repeat, if that time ever come, there will be' good reason to
think the last trump has sounded, for I shall tell the whole
truth though the heavens do fall, and though, with the rest, I
go down in the general ruin.' And those who would be involved in it know me too well to even imagine I will not keep my
word to the very letter.
"ViCTORIA C. WOODIHULL."
0
113
0 
CHIIAPTER IV.
THE DEVELOPMENTS DURING THE SUMMER AND  FALL OF
1873-PLYMOUTHI CHURCH CHARGES  MR. TILTON WITH
SLANDERING  MR. BEECHER - MR.  IILTON'S  DEFENCE
SUMMARIZED - THE  ACTION  OF  THE  CHURCH - MR.
BEECHER'S DECLARATION THAT HE HAD NO COMIPLAINT
TO MAKE AGAINST MR. TILTON-ACTION OF THE SISTER
CHURCHES THROUGH REV. DRS. STORRS AND BUDINGTON
- THE  CORRESPONDENCE  BETWEEN  THEM  AND  MR.
BEECHER, THAT LED TO THE ASSEMBLING OF THE CON GREGATIONAL COUNCIL.
URING the summer of 1873, the damaging stories of
the Woodhull and Claflin women traveled rapidly,
until the "scandal" became a reproach to the Church and
its pastor, and an annoyance to all Congregational Churches
of the country. Many damaging additions were made to the
original charges, and when there was surreptitiously published,
what  is known  as the "Tripartite Coventant," signed by
Beecher, Bowen and Tilton, which will appear in full further
on, the interest in the case was increased. The author does
not deem it essential to dwell at length upon the action of
Plymouth Church, in October of that year. Sufice it to say
that charges were preferred by a member against Theodore
Tilton, to discipline him for slandering the pastor of the
church, of which it was supposed he was stilt a member. Mr.
Tilton appeared, and offered to answer personally to Mr.
114 
II
1,
il.YIOM() TH,,' o    N(~~ I'I,.ET   1((k 
0  
BEECHERI'S UTTER DENIAL.
Beecher for any wroi,ng le had done him.  Mr. Beecher openly
declared before the Church authorities that hlie had no complaint to make ag,ainst Mr. Tilton.  The latter gentleman declared( that hle had not for some time considered himself a
nimenier, having voluntarily withdrawn from attendance upon
the services of the pastor; yet, hlie was willing to waive this
point, and  answer  any charg,e  of slandering Mr.  Beecher.
Alr. Beechler, in the meantime, had caused to be published
in the lBrooklyn ~E(yle, the first denial of the allegations
made -
To, the E(ditor of t7ie Brooklyn Eagle:
Sir.-In a long and( active life in Broollyn it has rarely happened that
the Eigle  tnd 1iiiclf lihave been in accord on questions of common concern
to oum  follow —citizens.   I aimo for thlis reason compelled to a(knowle(dge the
unsolicitedl confil (iic     e and regard of WNl.icli the columns of the Eagle of late
lhear testilmonyi.  I j!:ve just returned to the city, to learn that aipplication
has )ccn  ilmad(e to MArs. Victoria lVoodliiill for letters of mine sul)l)osed to
contain infi)rnlation respecting, certain infamous stories against me. I hllave
no ol)jection to hlave the,Eagle state in any way it deeiis fit, that Mrs.
e'oo(nlliull or,any otlher person or )person.s w-lo nmay ]lave letters of mine in
tlheir p)osses-ioin, lave lly cor(dial consent to publish them.  In this connectio)n, ani(l at this time, I will only (add that the stories and rumllors whlich
hlive for solme time plast b)een circel.te(l about me are untrue, and I stated
them in general and in particular as utterly untrue.
Ilespectfully,
lHENR'Y WARD BEECIIER.
The result of this action of the church, briefly stated. was
the dropping of Mr. Tilton's name from the rolls and the
declaration by the church that a member  could at any time
voluntarily sever his connection from the Society, and as MAr.
Tilton had done  so, and  was  no longer a member of the
Plymouth Society, he could not be pl'tced on trial for slander,
and, therefore, the clurcli had no jurisdiction in the matter.
This course, on the part of the church, caused much concern
to sister churches, and especial? to Rev. Drs. Budington and
Storrs.   It has  been charged against  thlese  distinguished
115 
PRIVATE CONYFERENCE.
divines that their subsequent action in corresponding with
Plymouth Church, and calling a council of all the churches,
was dictated by a desire to tear Alr. Beecher down from the
high position he had attained in Congregationalism, and get
rid of arival whose popularity they envied.  The author must
confess that he can find no justification for this charge, or the
subsequent one, that Rev. Dr. Bacon was prompted from similar motives to make  the attacks in his  *ew lHaven address,
and his articles in the Inldependent upon lIr. Tilton, and thus
secure the publication of Tilton's story in self defence.
But to return to the record of the events in the order in
which they presented themselves to the public. This action of
Plymouth Church regarding  fIr. Tilton occurred in October.
In the following January, Drs. Storrs and Budlington held a
private conference with AMr. Beecher, which ivwas tl-houghit at the
time to be of great importance, and likely to result in a settlement of the questions at issue, but which closed with a lively
and argumentative correspondence, settling nothing, and leaving affairs in a more hopeless condition thian before.  The following are the essential parts of that correspondence, minor
details being omitted:  The first is a letter from Drs. Storrs and Budington to SIr.
Beecher:
BROOKLYN, Jan. 7, 1874.
Rev. H. W. BEECHER:-Two  principles are, in our view,
essential to Con gregationalismn.  TIe first is, that the local
church is a brotherhood of believers, confessing Christ, in common, as their Supremie Lord and Savior, an(d covenanting not
only to worship togethler, I)ut to watch over each other in the
divine life and service.  It follows, then, accordingi to our view,
that as one does not enter such a brotherhood by his own aunt
alone, but also by the consent of the bo(ly, (liscerning in him
the temper of Christ, so neither does he leave it by his own act
alone; but only as the brotherhood consents.  It further follows; according to our vie^, that if one memb)er of such a
brotherhood is formally and pu)licly clharged by another with
grave offenses, directly impeaching his Christian character,
116 
BUDINGTON AND STORRS' LETTER.
such accusation must be considered, until it is ascertained
either that he is innocent, and so may be retained with his
honor vindicated, or that he is guilty, and so must, if possible,
be reclaimed; and that if, in the latter case, he prove unrepentant, he must be excluded from the brotherhood, as not being a
believer, and therefore not properly one of its members.  The
second principle is, that each local church, while properly and
entirely indel)endent in the management of its own affairs, so
long as it maintains the evangelical faith, and this mutual
watchfulness among its members, is still in responsible fellowship with other such churchcs; so that, if its faith should cease
to be evangelical, or its assiduous care for the purity of its
mcembers should be given up, these churches may properly
remonstrate with it; and if it should persist, may withdraw
from it the fellowship which lhad been pledged and maintained
only on these essential conditions.  Both these principles appealr to us Scril)tural, Congregational, and in(lispensable to be
maintained for the welfare of our churches, and for the honor
of Christ.  And both these principles have seemed to us to be
overlooked and imlperiledl, in the recent action of Plymouth
Clhurch; the first, in its action in the case of discil)line issued
by it Octo)ber 31, when a member al)peared to us to be released,
without trial or ceinsure, in the face of grave accusations; the
second(l, in the resolutions adopted by it December 5, affirming
its entire indel)endence of all other churches, in regard( to its
faith, order, and discil)line.  Our recent conversation with you
has le(l us to infer that you do not regard these principles as
denied by Plymouth Church, in its recent action; that, in your
view, the difference between that church and other Congregational churches is largely, if not wholly, one of methods and
means, instead of principles.  Will you let us know your views
more fully on these points?
To  make the points specific:-Suppose a member of the
Pl-moutli Church to have been absent from the communion for
a year, while still residing in the city, and then to have been
for mally charged by a )brother in the church with having led a
licentious life during that year, and when thus accused, to
plead his voluntary withdrawal from the communion bar of
investigation, would it be accord(ling to the customary methods
and policy of Pl-ymouth Church to accept that plea, to suspend
inquiry as to the facts, and to dlt) his name firom the roll without censure? Sul)lppose, fuPther, if you will allow the supposition, that the church itself should omit from its Articles of
117
0 
BEECHER'S REPLY 
Faith that one which affirms the inspiration of the Scriptures,
or that which declares the Divinity of our Lord, would it still,
in its own judgment or in yours, be entitled to claim that the
churches before in fellowship with it should make no remonstrance, but should continue in the fellowship, without reference
to its action?                         WM. IVES BUDINGTON.
R. S. STORRS.
In reply to this, after full consultation with Plymouth
Church, Mr. Beecher wrote:
POSITION OF PLYMOUTH CHURCH DEFINED.
LETTER OF HENRY WARD BEECHER.
Jan. 14, 1874.
MY DEAR BRETHREN:   I heartily assent to the fact that one
uniting with a church does so by his own voluntary act, and
with the consent of the brotherhood; and that lwhen, in his
judg,ment, it is his duty to leave it, it should for the sake of
good order, of courtesy, and Clhristian kindness, be done with
the assent of the church. But, I should dissent from ally such
view of membership as implied or asserted that in joining a
church one so surrenders his personal rights that hlie is not at
liberty to withdraw from it unless the church gives him back
the right to do so.  No church owns its members.  No covenant is scriptural or reasonable which is ill the nature of a legal
contract.
No word more happily expresses the idea of a church than
that which you employ-brotherhood.   The church is a peculiar
form of family, only it has not a legal contract between its
members as there is between husband and wife, nor legal relations such as exist between parents and children.  It is a voluntary brotherhood for moral ends, in which the members are
held by personal, affectionate, and sympatlietic influences.
In fact, it may be said that if it is not general usage among
Christian churches for members to leave upon their own proper
judgment and liberty, yet it is so frequent as to show the practical recognition of the right.  The Covenant of Plymouth
Church contemplates such facts, and does not bind men absolutely, but "so long as in the providence of God you shall
continue among us."
The fathers of Congreationalism  were  Englishmen,  and
though they cleared.their minds of local prejudices in a wonderful manner by going back to scripture, yet the operation of
118 
DISCIPLINE OF THE CHURCHES
scripture to loose them from bondage is seen chiefly in regard
to those points which were in controversy with Rome and those
which had been instruments of oppression from civil government. It was impossible but that they should reflect  the
opinions and customs of their age in.,other things. It was,
and is, the custom-law of England that persons in public trusts
cannot resign. No member of Parliament can resign his seat.
A legal fiction has to be used to get him out. He accepts the
office, say, of Steward of The Chiltern hundreds; as no member of Parliament can hold an office of profit and trust, this
act voids his membership in Parliament. Sheriffs, constables,
once elected, must serve.  And, in general, the English custom
is, once a member always a member, except by some welldefined process.  The power of an individual to leave office or
position in corporate bodies was un-English. In America the
very reverse doctrine and custom is universally established,
and very important decisions have been rendered by our courts.
As there is absolutely no teaching in Scripture on the right
of a churchll-member to leave a local church, even though it does
not consent, either fi'om another, or to disjoin himself from all
churches, no doctrine can be insisted upon authoritatively by
Congregational churches on this point.
I do not wish you to suppose that I advocate the common
use of this ultimate right of the individual to exclude himself
from the church. For social and moral reasons, on account of
the true spirit of brotherhood, every one leaving a church
should do it with respectful notice and assent.  And, therefore,
the ground taken by most Congregational writers of repute I
should respect in practice.  But if; in any extraordinary case,
an individual member chooses to exercise his latent right, and
goes forth into the world, or into another body, no church
which professes to derive all its authority from Sacred Scriptures can make that act an offense; and no amount of consent
of Congregational writers can forbid that which the Scriptures
do not forbid, and which the laws of the land permit.
"The second inference which you deduce from your first
principle is,' That if one member of such a brotherhood is
formally and publicly charged by another with grave offenses,
directly impeaching his Christian character, such accusation
must be considered until it is ascertained either that he is innocent, and so may be retained Ovith his honor vindicated, or
that he is tguilty, and so ffust, if possible, be reclaimed; and
that if, in the latter case, he prove unrepentant, he must be
119 
C0HURCH GO VER.NMENT.
excluded from the brotherhood as not being a believer, and,
therefore, not properly one of its members.'
"To this I would reply, that when charges have been made,
and judicially entertained by the church against any recognized
member of the church, and he shall then abandon the church
for the sake of escaping investigation, it may be proper for the
church, so far as is necessary, to vindicate its own good name,
or for the relief of any who may have been wronged, to proceed
with the case, and to declare its judgment. But to pursue such
a one with pains and penalties, after his own withdrawal, would
probably render all concerned actionable at law.'
" But if one has gone out from the church for years-has
not attended its services-is known to have chang(ed his religious views, and is known for years to have disavowed church
membership, it is not the duty of the church, if charges should
be made against such a one, to attempt to brigil  back ulnder
their jurisdiction, for the sake of trial, one whom, byN long coinsent, they have treated as no loInger a member.  In Plyvmnouth
Church, express, and, as I think, wise l)ovision is made to
prevent the frequent occurrence of trials, which, in so large a
membership, might naturally take place.' [The functions of
the Examining Committee are helr explained.]
An.y representation to you that procecdiln)gs against a member of Plymouth Church had been terminated by his withdrawal
to escape investigation or withdrawal for Iany other reason
from a recognized membership, while under judicial progress,
is wide of the truth.  The only tact out of which such a report
could have arisen is that the Examining Comm-ittee, in investigating charges against persons longr al)sent and long ceased to
be recognized members, have reported that charges should not
be entered upon with judicial process on account of the virtual
non-membership of the parties.'
"The only point on which there seems likely to be a difference of principle is the inherent right of a man to leave a church
when he regards it as his duty to d(lo so.  Practically, we
agree.  For obvious reasons the separation shoul(d be a mutual
act.  But at the bottom there lies a principal of indivi(lual
right and liberty which no covenant should restrain and no
church take away.  In regard to fellowship I would say in general:
1.  That I regard the fe*owshlip of churches as higlyl important, and to be cherished, and to be developed by such a use
of it as shall make each church feel the light and warmth of
120 
THE TRIAL OF CHU'RCHES.
love which God has kindled in every other. Fellowship is the
interchange of love and sympatllhy and mutual service between
neighboring churches, and it should exist among all churches,
of whatever sect, but especially between those of the same
faith and order.  That this fellowship nay develop itself in
kindly suggestions, in affectionate advice, or even expostula tion, I admit.  For fellowship which virtually punishes, though
the penalty be moral, is all the more oppressive on that very
account, since in the progress of Christian civilization moral
penalties are transcendently more painful, and if wrongly or
unskillfilly- employed more oppressive, than any other punish ment can be.
2.  Whenever any church shall openly and avowedly change
the essential conditions upon which it was publicly received into the fellowship of neighboring churches, it is their right,
either by individual action or by council, to withdraw their
fellowship.  If any'churlch shall, by flagrant ineglect, make itself a cover for immorality, or shall exert a pernicious and
immoral influence upon the community, or upon sister churches,
they hlave a right to withdraw themselves ifrom the contagion.
Precedingi distellowship, in all such cases, there may be, and
should be, such affectionate and reasonable inquiry as shall
show that the evil is real-that the causes of it are within the
control of the church, that the evil is not a transient evil, such
as may befall any church, but is permanent. and tending to increase rather than diminish.
3.  I make a distinction between a withdrawal of fellowship
b y    the will of individual churches and the arraignment of a
church,         an d virtually putting it upon trial before a council.
There is no power on earth that can try a sovereign church.
By  w           hlate ver name it may be softened, and by whatever authoritie   s        j ustified, the denunciation or excommunication of a church
b y    recommendation is in derogation of its local independence,
and is without warrant in the Word of God. The attempt to
bring churches to trial has never been productive of good. It
i s    likely in every way to produce mischief.  There was never
suc        h an     occasion to employ councils and to withdraw fellowship u     pon their recommendation as in New-England during the
Unitarian  controversy.  But there was never a council called.
While,     then, I heartily believe in we fellowship of churches, I
a m    mindful that it was thlroclgh the claims of fellowship that
the churches of old learned to exercise domination, and that
there is an inherent danger in the disciplinary exercise of fel                   tn
121
0 
122     PL YMO UTH CHURCH IIYVDE'ENDENT.
lowship which should put every lover of the liberty of the
churches upon his guarld.
You next proceed to say that, in your judgment, both of
the princil)les which you lay down'have seemed to us to be
overlooked and imperiled in thie recent action of PIlymouth
Church; the first in its action in the case of discipline, issued
by it Oct. 31st, 1873, when a member al)peared to us to be
released without trial or censure, in the face of grave accusations; the secon(l ill the resolutions adopted by it Dec. 5thl, 1873,
affirming its entire independence of all other churches ill regard
to its faith, order and discil)line.'  In reply to the first statement, I would say that Plymotltil Church never has taken the
action alleged.  It accepted a report of its Examining Committee, dismissing the case of one under clharges, and drop)l)ing
his name from the roll, on the ground(l that he was not and for
years had not been a member of' thie Church, and was, therefore,
not within its jurisdiction.  This is simpl] a matter of fact.
The person declared that hlie was not a member. The Church
declared hlie was not a member. Is not the Church competent
to determine its own membership?  Does' fellowship' allow a
neighboring church to review and redetermine the action of a
church in regard to a matter of fact?'
In regard to the second point, viz: that' resolutions were
adopted by it (viz: Plymouthl Clhurch) affirming its entire indcpendence of all other churches, in regard to its faithl, order, and
discipline,' youL have not quoted the resolutions passed by us.
Youl have quoted almost verbatim Rule 1 of Plymnioutli Manual,
which was originally published in 1848.  Thle substance of this
rule was before the council wlhich aided in organiziing Plymouth
Church, and the council which helped to install me as its pastor;
oll both of which councils Dr. Storrs took important parts.
The original Rule in 1847 was this:' This Church regalrds the
Scril)tures as the only infallible guide in matters of church
order and discipline, and is therefore amenable to no other
ecclesiastical body.'
" Within a year (1848) it took the form now in the Manual,
and has kept it.  I cannot see wiy, at this late day, you take
exception to this rule of a quarter of a centtury's standing, as
violating the principle of Fecllowslhip.  But if; throug(rll inadvertence, you quote the M,-t-ual, meaning(r, rather, to point attention to our resolutions exl)lanatory of these words, will  oiil
explain whlerein you think that tlhese resolutions differ firom the
doctrine laid down by Dr. Dexter in his excellent work  on 
VINDICATION OF THE CHURCH.
Congregationalism, quoted in the last answer of Plymouth
Church to y3our letterl?'
[" Ir. Bseeclier tllen refers to the hypothetical cases, dlrawing.
these conclusions.]  In short, I hold that a church should care
for its eriring members, and restore tliet if possible by moral
influence; that when tllhey- are incorrigible they be dropl)ped firom
the roll, if no crime or glaringr sin be iml)utted to tlhem; that if
convicted of crime, tlhe- be expelled; that if tlhey go out, meantime, of their own accord while under(l   trial, that the church
dropl) their name fiom the roll, withl such other action as may
in the circumstances seem  nee(dfuil for the vindication of the
church, or of.any of its members.'
"I  would, in reply to thle other case  proposed, say, that
when any church has essentially changed those conditions on
which fellowship) was originally- extelnded(l, it is the right of the
churches to witli(draw froln it, as it is undoubtedly- their riglit
by a~rguing, 1)reaching, or writing, first to end(leavor to convert
them to sounder views.  But experience has, thus far, taullght
tlhat it is wise to do this by associated ecclesiastical action
the experience of the churches in MIassachlusetts with reference
to the Unitarians having, shownll that the end can be quietly
reached by each clhurchel  actiing for itself, thus escaping these
liabilities to the usurpllatioln of authority and the domination
of thle churches. which  always attend large convocations of
ministers, and( the consciousness, on their part, that tlhey represent and wield the moral convictions of large bodies of men.
Ecclesiastical history reveals not a single instance of beneficial
resiilts firom  an attempl)t to discipline a church by. associated
ecclesiastical action.                        H. W. BEECIIER.
This wVas not at all satisfactory to Rev. Drs. Storrs and Bud
ington, who were believed to represent the sentiment of sister
Congregational churches, and they replied as follows, suggesting the council that was subsequently held:
BROOKLYN, N. Y., Jan. 26, 1874.
Rev. H. W.  BEECIIER:-On  tile slubject of chlurlch-membership, you hold, as we understand youl, that every member has
the ri(rlt to leavec a cllur(h, at any timie, for another church, or
for tlhe worlld; that the exercise  f this ligh(lt is not con(litioned
ill)Ol tlhe consent of tlhe cllutivll; that the covenant into which
hle entered, in joinin(r tlhe clhlurch, wans only the expression of
his then present intention and )purpose; and that his separation
123 
FELLOWSHIP OF CHURCHES.
from the church is completed with his own act or volition in
retiring, the church having simply to drop his name, in accordance with his will. This seems to us a principle wholly unknown to Congregationalism, and contradicted by its history
from the beg(inning; the admission of which would render impossible the administration of Christian and orderly discipline; the
prevalence of which would absolutely dissolve the bands of
church association.
We  say we should be content with a deliverance upon these
two questions; for what you say ill your letter on the subject
of fellowship seems to us so far just and comprelhensive as to
warrant the belief of a substantial accordalce between us. We
differ from you widely, it is true, in regard to special points
connected with your expression of your views-,as, for example,
in regard to the argument which you derive from the action
and experience of the churches in Mlassachusetts in the Unitarian controversy.  But it is aside from the purposes of this
correspondence to consider the history and results of that case
and we refrain from giving the reasons why we think a council
expedient when serious divergencies take place between our
chl'ches.  You seem to us, however, to lay down the essential
principle involved in the commlunion of churches vlwhere yout say,
Whenever any church shall openly an(l avowedly chau(ge the
essential conditions upon which it was publicly received into
the fellowship of neilghboring churchcs, it is tlieir right, either
by individual action, or by cowncil, to withdraw their fellowship."  Upon this we gladclly Iunite, as well as upon whiat you
say as regards the necessity of " affectionate and reasonal)le
inquiries preceding disfellowship)."  As respects, therefore, this
question of the independency or fellowship of the churches, we
have only to askl if you will favor the introduction into your
new church-manutal of some declaration similar to the above
quotation from your letter? The resolution adopted by your
church, December 5th, seems to make a corporate declaration of
this kind important and needful.  This would leave only two
subjects upon which we do not find in your letter any basis of
agreement.  Would you be willing, therefore, to use your influene  with your church to unite with our chlurches in asking the
advice of a council, mutually called, upon these two questions
nainely-:                 e
1. Does the order cnd usage of Congregrational churches I)C'mit a member who has  entered into public covenant with a
church, to terminate his relations with that church, by his own
124 
PRELIM.INABY TO A CO UNCCIL.
volition or act, so that no action on the part of the church is
requisite to such teriminaition of memnbershlip?
2. Was the action of Plymouthl  Church on the 31st October,
1873, ill drol)ping a nmembl)er against whom grave and sl)ecific
chlarges had been forlmnally presented, ain action ill accor(lance
with the usag(es of Congregrational churches, aind with their
understanding of the rule of Christian dcliscil)line?
WVMI. IVES BUDINGTON.
R. S. STORRS.
The above called forth from MIr. Beecher the following reply,
showing his willingness for a council of the churches, but
expressing the opinion that Plymouth Church would not
assent to it.
BROOKLYN, Feb. 8, 1874.
MY DEAR BRETHREN:-I am gratified that you find in my
letters so much that you approve.- The kind tone of your
reply leads me to hope that a basis of mutual agreement may
be found. I proceed at once to the points which you have
made. With only a single addition, I accept the first article to
be submitted to a mutually called council (should our three
churches conclude to call one). As it now reads it is, "Does
the order and use of Congregational Churches permit a member who has entered into public covenant withi a church, to
terminate his relations with that church by his own volition or
act, so that no action on the part of the church is requisite to
such termination of membership?" I would suggest that the
question read, "Does the Word of God, and the order and
usage of Congregational Churches," etc. You are aware that
I regard the right to withdraw on the part of an individual as
a latent right, not ordinarily to be used, and like the right of
self-defense, to be used only in extreme cases. I would therefore suggest that "in any case," be inserted, thus: "to terminate, in any case, his relations," etc.
"In regard to the second point:  I would suggest that the
thing aimed at be stated as a question of usage, and not as a
historical question. If it can be put into a form which shall
leave out the particular ease of Plymouth Church, and be made
general, I shall, for myself, be Heartily glad to hear the opinions of a Council uponi it. But as it stands, it would be very
difficult to induce the Plymouth Church to assent to it.  I
would suggest something like the following:  "May a Church
125 
126   STORRS AND B UDINGTON DISAPPOINTED.
according to the Word of God and the usages of the Congregational Churches,  exercise its own discretion in dropping
from its roll the nlamne of one against whom serious charges are
preferred, but who declares himself not to be a member (,f the
Church; or must the Church, according to the Word of God
and Congregational usage, go forward with the trial of charges,
to a fiinal issue.
I will mention two points in which we regard your internal
economy as unwise, and which could be easily corrected by the
insertion in the respective manuals of your Churches of some
such rule as this:
1. That at every business meeting of the church a Chairman
be chosen by thie brethren.
2. That no action involving the interest of other churches
shall be taken, except at a meeting publicly called from the
pulpit on the Sunday preceding the meeting.
These changes, or some equivalent, would take away from
the minds of our people the impression that you are attempting a legislative authority, and will bring our churches together
in such amicable consultation as could not but restore the
cordiality which once existed between us. In all this letter I
have given you my own view and not that gathered by conference with the brethren of the church.
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
Despairing of settling the questions of church discipline
inv olved in the      correspondence, the Rev. Drs. Storrs and Buding,ton   close             d the correspondence as follows:                           BROOKLYN, N.Y., Feb. 10, 1874.
The Rev. H. W. BEECHER-Dear Brother:-It was the aim of
our last letter to reduce the points of diffcrcence between us to
the minimum, and to meet you, as far as we could, without
surrendering principles dear to us and, as we think, to all our
churches.  WVe are disappoinited, consequently, to find tl-hat you
cannot unite with us upon either of the three propositions
submitted.
Your proposition that our churches should change their
manuals in certain particulars, as an inducement to Pilymouth
Church to adopt your statement on the subject of fellowship
between churches, concernimatters which have never been inll
discussion between us,- and appears to us wholly irrelevant.
The matter of fellowship with other churches is a matter 
CORRESPOINDF,-CE CLOSED.'
directly concerning those clullrclhes.  Plymouth Clhurchl has
rt(lol)ted a-t resolution (lesignedt ex)pressly to declare its relations
to other cliurchef.  Yont have illterI)rete(l tlhis resolution in a
sei.se malterially different fromr its obvious imp)ort, as it appears
to us.  Inasmuch, however, as tis is oBly a I)rivate statement
.)f your personal opinion, it seemed to ls legitimate, indeed
eccessa-ry, to inquire if the'Ilymoutli Chlurchl  would accept
and affirm the doctrine whichl you lay downi?  If not, or if it
will (lo this only on some impossilble conditions, then the expression of your personal views onii thle subject does not alter
or affect the public attitude of your churcil toward ours and
others.
We should feel constrained, consequently, to add a third
question to the two we propose, for tlhe advice of a council, a
question concerning the proper relations of our churches to
yoiurs. in view of its resolution of December 5thl; and it seems
to us indispensable that some declaration be made on the subject of F'ellowship, as onI the others.
.We regret that tlie three propositions, submitted to you in
our letter of the 26thl inst., as a possible basis of agreement,
are not satisfactory to you; and as we cannot surrender them,
or modify them in any important particular, there is probably
no occasion, in view of your many engagements and ours, for
furthler protracting our correspondence.
WM. IVES BUDINGTON,
R. S. STOITRS.
This correspondence clearly established the fact that Plymouth Churchl would not recede from the rules it had laid
down in the case of Mr. Tilton's withdrawal from the church,
and rendered necessary the convening, a few weeks later, of the
Congregational Council whlich took full cognizance of the
facts in dispute, as will be seen by a perusal of the ensuing
chapter.
0
127
6 
CHAPTER V.
THE ASSEMBLING OF THE COUNCIL OF CONGREGATIONAL
CHURCHES-THE INVITATION TO PLYMOUTH CHURCH TO
EXPLAIN ITS ACTION IN DROPPING MR. TILTON'S NAME
FROM THE ROLLS-THE DECLARATION BY PLYMOUTH CHURCH
OF ITS INDEPENDENCE-THIE VERDICT OF THE COUNCIL A REVIEW BY REV. DR. BACON.
THE Council of Congregational Churches assembled March
24th, in the Clinton-ave. Church, Brooklyn. It was no
ordinary gathering, but was noteworthy on account of its unusual size and the distinguished character of a latrge number of
the delegates present.  The permanent organization of the
Council resulted in the election of the Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon
of New Haven, and the Hon. C. I. Walker of Detroit, as the
Moderators, and the Rev. Dr. Alonzo HI. Quint of New Bedford,
Mass., and the Rev. I. C. Meserve of Brooklyn, as Scribes.
Immediately upon the completion of the organization, the
question of inviting Plymouth Church to a mutual coulici], or
to sit in the Council, was raised. Prof. E. C. Smythe, of
Andover Theological Seminary, presented resolutions favoring
the representation of that church by pastor and committee, for
the purpose of making such statements as they might wish,
and of answering such questions as the Council might have to
ask; in other words, to live the same opportunities in the
Council as the other,two churches. This opened a hearty but
good-natured discussion, which continued for two hours, and
128
0 
PL MOUTH CHURCH S UMMONED.
in which the question as to the exact nature of the Council
was raised.  The Rev. Dr. Storrs set this at rest by stating that
neither an ecclesiastical, mutual, nor ex parte council had been
called, and if this was not an advisory Council it was nothing.
The discussion then turned uponI the kind of invitation to be
extended to Plymouth Church. Substitute after substitute
was offered to Prof. Smythe's resolution, and when brought to
a vote were successively defeated; and it becam, apparent that
the good sense of the assembly favored the fullest courtesy to
Plymouth Church, and when Dr. Storrs advocated such a
course it became certain that Plvmouth Church would have
an opportunity to be fully and freely heard.  Warm speeches
were made on both sides; questions of order were raised, and
at times a dozen delegates were on their feet at once. But the
ease of the chairman, Dr. Bacon, and his familiarity with Congregational usage, of which some of the delegates seemed to
have little conception, kept the delegates in good huLmor, and
helped dispatch the business of the meeting, which had otherwise threatened to be well-nigh interminable.  Prof. Smythb's
resolution was finally carried by a very decisive vote. The
author does not wish to inflict upon the reader a long report of
the deliberations of tl- is eminent body, but will merely quote
the action and correspondence bearing upon the case. The
following is the summons to Plymouth to answer:  In Ecclesiastical Council convened by letters from the Church
of the Pilgrims and Clinton Ave. Congregational Church, Brooklyn, N. Y., March 24, 1874, in the house of worship of the
Clinton Axve. Church, it was
Resolved, That the Plymouth Church be invited, with the
consent of the committees of the churches, to present its views
orally before the Council on the questions presented in the Letter Missive by its pastor and such committee as it may appoint,
and by the samne committee to furnish such information concerning the action referred to in these questions as the Church
may request.
It was voted that the Rev. E~bert C. Smythe, D. D., and the
Scribe of the Council be i committee to present this resolve to
Ply1mouth Church.  ALONZO H. QUINT, Scribe of the Council.
Brooklyn, -V. Y., March 24, 1874.'
129
0 
THZEIR ANSWER.
To this exhortation, after mature deliberation, Plymouth
Church made the following response.
Reverend  and Beloved  Breth?ren  and  Fathers in  God:
Having( been notified( by the Church of' the Pilgrims and the
Clinton Avenue Cong(regational Clhurch of your assembl)lage,
un(ler their call, for ptlurposcs specified(l in their Letters Missive,
and hllaving(r received fiom those churches an invitation to app)ear
before you by our pastor and a committee, simply for the purpose of correctiing any statements of tact which iighit seem to
us erroneous, and filirnishing( any fiurthier and slp)ecific information wNhiicli you inilght req(ltest; adll(: htving (leclined this invitationI onl the ground that these churches thus called uis before a
council in the conveninig of which we   had been p)ermnitted to take
no part, in which we had never been offered tihe righlits of equal
nmebnlcrs, in whiich it was not prol)osed now to give us tlhe rights
even of ordinary defendents, w e nevertiheless (lesire, out of our
respect and love for you,  belovedl  brethren  and  venerable
fathiers, to make a brief statement of our position, and to lay
this our solemn protest before  you.
It is not against your conIvening or organizing as a council
that we desire to remonstrate.   So far as the Letters Missive,
under which you lave asseml)led(, state matters whichl (lo not
relate to any other church tihan tilhe two churches issuingi those
Letters, we make no complaint.  We (lo not even obijec(t to the
consideration in your bo(dy of the question whether thlose two
churches have made a mistake in tileit manner of approcelingr
us, an(l therefore owe us an apolorgy, instead of our owil(ng tlhem
an explanation.  [Applause.]   Althougll this is a question in
which we, as a chllurch, have sonme interest, yet aI Cex pa)rte d(liscussion of thiat point, for the sole eiiligiltcenmient of those brethren, may be of great profit to them, and cainnot  seriously
encroach upon the rilghts of Congregational churches at large.'
Neither (10do we object to the conisi(leration of the abstract
questions submitted to your bo(ldy.  Icearing( as thesc questions
doubtless (lo upon the internal ecoiiomny of the two clhurches
which have calledl you, it is for youl to d(leci(le whliethier there are
diflicullties arisi(ng, or likely to arise, witlin t!ose churches of
sufficient importance to justify their a.tsking for a(tvicc upon
those points, in the liolght of' wlichi they may ju(ldge of tlieir own
past acts, and giiide their fiuture course.  IVe are bound to )presume tlhat such is the case.  [Al)l)lause.]
"But when they call upon you to examine into our action
6*
ISO
6 
THEY PIROTEST.
for their ed(lification, a far dlifferent issue is presented. You
have been called to determine lwhethler the action of Plymouth
Church, in a specified case, was justifiable, whether our pastor's
name was left without proper vin(lication, and whethler we  are
to be retained in the fellowship) of Congregational churches.'
"13ietliren, we approach tlhis part otf3our duties, if we know
anything of our own hearts, in a spirit fiee from  all personal
motives.  We will not preten(l that, at all times past, we have
felt unconcerned for ourselves as a churchl, or for that member
of our church who, by reason of long and faithiffl service, and
of his sirgnal success in bringingr home to our hlearts a living
an(l eveI-l)resent Savior, has become to us the best beloved of
men.   [IRepeated applause.]  But these thingTs are of the past.
T'he Lorl liathl given us peace an(l strengthl, and we rest in Him,
with absolute confidence, and( al)solute content.'
" IBult we still owe,a d(luty to our weaker brethren.   [Laughter.]
Not every church could pass tlhrooughl such a storni in safety.
Not every church could witlhstand the decrees of a council so
worthy of respect as y-ours, even tiholugh the council were known
to haveC been called exparte, and iniormed erlroneously-.  Lest,
therefore, our silence shoul(l leave the  way open  for  the
opp)ression of other churches, less powerful and less united than
our own, we speak.'
" In the name of our Congregational policy-in the name of
our feebler l)retlhren-in the Iname of justice, even as ad(ministere(ld by) those whlo know not Go(-butt above all, in the name
of that God(-wlhose throne is seate(l in justice and judgment,
we protest against any action wlhatever by this Council, upon
any issue relating to Ply-mouth Church.
(Lon(g and lhearity a-l)plaulse  fo)llowed  the readcling of the
sentence, and caused 1'i. I')eecller to say,' Brethren, you'll
wear out your hands before you get through;' M1r. Halliday
broke in with,' and the Council too.')
"And this we d(lo for the reasons following, as well as for
others, to set forthl wliclh, time would fail.'
"First: This is an ex parte council, convened without any
regular an(l sufficient steps to obtain a mutual council-without any refulsal upon our part to join in such a council- called
to considler our aflfatirs for the sole instruction of two other
chlurches, and( carefully fettered, so as to make it impossible,
by the terms of its call, for the Council to alter itself into a
mutual  council.  Yet it is a wvl-known and fulndamental rule
of Congreg(rational polity that no ex )arte council can be called
131 
OBJECTIONS URGED.
until a mutual council has been distinctly offered and clearly
refiused, andc that every ex parte council should be at liberty,
and should offer to make itself a mutual one.
" Second: If it is claimed that one or more churches, acting
on the pretext that they are not in controversy with a sister
church, and desire instruction onIly for themselves, may call a
council to instruct them as to their relations with that church free from the rules governing the call of ordinary ex parte,
councils, this claim appears to us subversive of the whole sys tem of mutual councils.  if this Council has been  regularly
called and is coml)etent to advise the churches calling it as to
their dutv toward us, then our pastor can call a council, with out consulting us, to advise him  l)nblicly what is his duty
toward his church.  We have inquired in vain for a precedent
of this kind(, and have every reason to believe that none can
be found.  The present case is a most d,ngerouis innovation,
which, if sanctioned by the churclhes, will do more to disorganize Congregational polity than all the alleged errors of Plymouth Church could do, if teii tiimes repeate(d.
" Third: TlTis Council is stiumnmoned to advise, precisely as
we were originally summoned to take advice, under distinct
monace and moral coercion.  Just as Plymouth Church was in
one breath requested to explaill the facts, and informed that it
must be cut off unless the facts had been misreported(l, so this
Council is called upon to advise whether the action of Plymouth
Church has been conformal)le to Congicregational usage, and is
at the same moment informed that, if such is indeed Congregational usage, the two churches' cannot sustain  such  a
position,' that it would be' entirely unreasonable to expect it
from' them, that' even if thev could continue to hold it in
view of the past, they should feel it indispensable to be extricated from it in forecast of what may occur in the fuiture,' that
' such a position is simply insupportable,' and that' if this is
to be Congregational practice, many chuirchies [clearly meaning
their own] will certainly prefer to identify themselves with
some other communion.'
" While we do not for a moment assume that such thrents
will intimidate you, any more than the threats, which for nearly
a year past have been uttered from the same quarter, intimidated us, yet we conceive it )possiblle in the future that a combination of large powerful hliuielles might select a council of
weak and dependent onles for the )purpose of ciirushing one still
weaker; and in such a case, incllaces like these would have a
132
-b 
CONGREGA TIONALISiM.
controlling and disastrous effect. We resist them now, when
they seem to us idle and vain, lest they should be left by our
silence to be drawn into a precedent fatal to the liberty of
other churches.
"Fourth: Officers of the great institutions to which Congregationalists have been accustomed to contribute most
liberally-the Home Missionary Society, the Congregational
Union, the Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and
others-having been invited to attend this Council, in which
their wisdom, experience, and devotion to the great work of
the Church make them distinguished and valuable members,
are singled out for special and almost personal dictation, and
are warned in most pointed language that the callers of this
Council do not intend to contribute any more finds to the
support of these Christian enterprises, if their theories of Congregational fellowship and discipline are not indclorsed( by this
Council.
"This attempt to pervert great missionary organizations
into engines of ecclesiastical power, to stop the fountains of
Christian benevolence, and to overawe members of couincils by
appeals to their fears for the special branch of the Lord's work
in their charge, tends to destroy the moral force of all councils,
and constitutes an assault on the independence of both the
churches and the societies, entirely without parallel in the histor- of Congregationalism. [Applause.]
"Fifth: In so far as this Council is called to consider the
points of conflict between Plymouth Church and neighboring
churches, the whole frame of the Council, in its widespread
constituency and national character (so appropriate and admiral)'e if called only to deal with large and general questions)
is directly in opposition to the genius of Congregational polity,
one great aim of which is to confine local troubles to their own
locality, and to settle them in the neighborhood, by the aid of
neighboring churches, without spreading the tale of local dissensions over the whole land.
"Sixth: The charges brought against this church are partly
based upon the reported speeches of its pastor, although it is
well known that Plymouth Church, with the hearty concurrence
of its pastor, has from the beginning of its history declared
that no man, however beloved and revered, may usurp  the
rights of the brotlerhood, and &as always insisted, and does
now insist, that by its owvl acts and declarations, and by these
only, it will be judged. And the maintenance of this rule with
133 
VIE,WS OF PL TMO UTH.
respect to all churches, we hold to be an essential part of Collgregational l)olity.
Seventh: It is proposed virtually to arraign this church for
alleged violations of Congregational usage.  But  Congregational usage itself derives its sole authority fromn the Word of
God; and no Council may  call to account a Congregational
church for the alleged violation of princip)les not declared by
the Word of God.
" Nor can we assent to any action by which the tradition of
the elders shall be place(l ul)on  even equal grounds with the
commandment of God(l, nor ag,ree to receive for doctrines the
commandments of men.  And we therefore protest against any
atteml)t to formulate the usages of churches into a code of
ecclesiastical law, to be placed on an equality with the Word
of God, as bindingl upon tilhe conscience of the cthurcheles.  [Applause.]  In the presentation of the case to you, it hapl)ens
naturally enoulgh, from the fiundamental error of the lwhole
proceeding,, that our views andi practice in cases of discipline
are not correctly state(l.  We shall not correct these errors of
detail.  Nevertheless, for the purpose of informinig you firankly,
as brethren beloved in thle Lord, what are our views and practice concernilig church dlisci )liile, althlouoghl not recogniziing
your power to act ul)on this subject, we  apl)end to this paper
our past and present rules of dcliscip)line, and a declaration of
our practice tinder them, adlopted una nimoutsly by this church,
and repiesenti(ng not merely- the course we lhave malrked( out
for the fiuture, but tlhat which has been followed in the past.
Our doctrine of church fellowsliil) is in lilike manner gravrely
misinte-rpreted(l.   We  lhave inever claimed (as asserted) that
' fellowship) bicnds to silence  tlhe clhurches which lhave  )ledged
it.'  We  have never denied the rigrlt of cllurches to offer to
each other a(dvice in a Cliristiaii sp)irit, nor thc d(Ityt of cllurches
to receive suchl an offer in the spirit of brotherhood.  We have
asserted tlhe righlt of every church, acting in tlhe like sl)irit of
firaternal love, wllile receivilng the offer, to decline the advice
and to judger for itself lwhen, accordiing to the laws of Clhrist,
an occasion hlas arisen for exercising this rilght.  And, having.i
received an offer of  dvice whichli  seemed to us to l)e tendered
in a sl)irit not according to the min(l of Christ, wc dlid decisive1y exercise our riglit, 1)y decliingi to listen to advicc conceived
in such a spirit.  Nor cal& we ever assent to any doctrine of
church fellowsllip which shiall be (lestructive of the liberty of
the local church,  or which  shall  convert that which the
134 
RiELATIONSHIP TO CHURiCIIES.,
Lord ordained as a safeguard and an instrument of sympathy,
into an irritating csl)ionagc and an instrument of ol)l)ression.
"Iut we rejoice to live in affectionate fellowship with all
churches of the Lord Jesus, and( esp)ecially with those wllo are
in all thlings like-minded with us, hlolding( to the same faith and
order, not only inl thlings fundamental, lint in things less essential, yet dear to us by conviction or association.  In asserting
tlhat this church was not responsible for the doctrine, ordler, or
discil)pline of otller churches, we never for a moment initended
to cut ourselves off from relationslhil) to thlem. There is a certain vague and general sense in *which all Christians are respl)onsible for one anotlher.  13ut this is not the sense in which the
word is generally used.  The responsibility of members of the
same church1  for one another is the mildest form in which the
vord( is commonly understood.  And( it was just that degree of
responsibility  between churches  whilch  we  meant,  and(l still
mean, to dleny.    ciembers of a church canll put each other on
trial before thie Clurch.  We  dleny the rilgh-t of any churchl to
put another church upll)on trial before allny ecclesiastical body
whlatever.  [A)pplause.]
"Yet we cheerfully adcmit that whenever an)y church shall
openly and  avowedly chlang(e  the essential conditions  ulpon
whichl it was publicly received into the fellowship of neighbl)oring churches, or shall, by flagrant neglect, exert a pernicious
and(  imnmoral influence lupon the community or u1lpon sister
clmurchcs, it is their righlt, either by individual action or by
council, to withdraw their fellowship.
"AVe hold that I)receding fellowship, in all such cases, there
shonl(l be such atfectionate and reasonable inquiry as shall
show tlhat the evil is real-thllat the causes of it are within the
control of the church, tlhat the evil is not a transient evil such
as may befall any church, but is permanent and tending to
increase rather than diminish.
"It was with tllis meaning, and reasoning from this point of
view, that we luse(l the word' resl)onsibility.'  We dlo maintain
tllat we are responsible for no other church and to no ollher
churchlCl.  But we use these words ill their ordinary and popular
sense, and not with reference to all those shladowy grades of
meaniing whiclh  may possibly be attachdc(l to them.   In short,
we used this langtiage for the purpose of repelling dictation,
and of relieving the conscience q(  other cllurchels from a sense
of any such responsibility -s  necessarily iml)lied the righlt to
dictate.  The responsibility of affection we gladly accept; the
1115
0 
TILTON TO THE COUNCIL.
responsibility of authority, even in its lilghtest touch, we utterly
repudiate.  [Applause.]
"We pray for the divine blessing upon you and your deliberations.  We commit you and ourselves to the care of the great
Master, in whose service we are all united here, and who will,
out of perplexities, conflicts, and doubts, bring us all into all
eternal unity of love, and tllhrough love to peace.
" This much, brethren and fathers, it was in our minds to say
to you before receiving any other invitation than that of the
two churches; but hlavingo now received your invitation to appear
before you by our pastor and a conmmittee, we are constrained
to decline, lest by our acceptance we should seem to renounce
our conscientious convictions and to withdraw our solemn testimiony against the violation of Christian liberty, courtesy, and
equity which have characterized the calling( of this Council and
the steps which led to it, and lest we sholll(d establish a- piecedent full of danger to smaller churches, as encouraging iirregular and unwarrantable p)roceedingrs on the part  of  strong
churches, which the wecaker party might afterward, by the force
of our example, be compelled to condone.  We are not responsible for the errors which have been committed in the treatment
of this Church and in the calling of this Council, and we are
not willing to cover them with our consent.
By order of Plymouthl Church.
F. 31. EDGERTON, Mod(erator.
THOMAS G. SlElAIMAN, Clerk.
Brooklyn, March 25th, 1874.
Mr. Theodore Tilton sent, on March 27, a letter to the
Council giving his position in the controversy. The following are the chief points of the communication:
To the Congreygattional CUoflcil.-GENTLEMEN, CLERICAL AND
LAY: As your honorable body are discussing a case in which
I am made to appear a principal actor, you will accord to
me the courtesy of contributing to your official records a
correct statement of my own position; a privilege which I
ask because my position has been misrepresenlted in your body,
to my grievous injury.
This misrepresentation touches two vital points: first: mv
attitude toward Plymouth Church; second: my action toward
its pastor. I will make ~plain statement of the facts bearing
on both points. 
136
6 
RELIGIO US LIBERTY.
First: In 1850 I became a member of Plymouth Church.
In 1869 I terminated my connection with that church. In
1873 my name, which still lingered on the roll, was officially
erased. My retirement from the church was executed by me
in strict conformity with a rule of the church; and the validity
of my act has since been signally and repeatedly ratified by
the unanimous vote of the church, affirming and reaffirming
the principle on which that act was based. That principle, as
I hold it, is the free right of a free man to sever his connection
with a church by his free will; and I shall never become a
churchman in any church in which this is not a rule. On the
part of Plymouth Church, this same principle has been similarly stated as follows:
Every man has an indefeasible right to separate himself
from the church by his own sole act.
It was this right, thus held and now championed by Plymouth Church, that I exercised in that church four years ago
by that act, and on that principle I have ever since stood, and
still stand; and I believe that if the discussion arising from
this case shall result in stamping this principle into currency
as a canon law among any considerable number of churches, I
shall thereby have contributed by an accidental example, to
further not a little the religious liberty of mankind.   The
affectionate loyalty which I bear to my father and my mother
evermore reminds me that they belong to the church of whose
liberty Roger Williams was the early champion in this country; and it is the native blood within me that makes me
jealous, to an extreme degree, of sacerdotal authority and
ecclesiastical bonds. No action of Plymouth Church, growing out of my case, could have been more in consonance with
my traditional convictions, or more gratifying to my ancestral
pride, than that this church should have unanimously followed me into my retirement and invested my individual act
with the moral majesty of a public precedent for the further
enfranchisement of the human mind from church bonds and
priestly powers.  But whether you agree or disagree with this
view, I request you to take special notice of the fact that whatever doubts your honorable body may cast upon this method
of voluntary retirement, or whatever such doubts may have
existed in Plymonth Church at the time when I assumed and
exercised this right four year,ago, yet this assumption has
since been ratified by that church on several signal occasions,
and is now  put forth by Plymouth Church as a cherished
principle of its ecclesiastical polity. 
137 
F VOL UNTAR  RETIPEMENT.
Second:  Four years after I had thus terminated my connection with Plymouthl  Church, I was charged by -I member of
that body with "having circulated and promoted scandals
derogatory to the Chlristian integrity of the pastor, and iinjurious to the reputation of the church."  A widespread iml)pressionI overshadowved g)od men's minds that whatever othler p)oints
were in doubt, there could be no doubt that I had slandered
the pastor of Plymouth Church.  I hereby declarc tllhat I llad(
not t-hen, nor have I since, nor at any time in all my life have I
ever uttered a slander against any human bec:ng.  (M~Ir. Tilton
then proceeds t,) quote, in support of his positioii, the letter of
Mr. Beeclier, published on the 2d of Junec, denying that Mr.
Tilton was the autlhor of the calulmnies against him.)
He then quotes his own letter sent to the Examining Committee of Plymouth Church, explicitly denying that hle had
ever spoken against Mr. Beecher falsely,,and asking  for an
examination.  Hle then refers to his statement in Plymouth
Church to the effect that itf he had slandered Mr. 13ceelher lie
was ready to answer for it, and calling( upon  Mr. Beecher to
speak, if hle hi.d any accusation to make against him.  After
alluding, to Mr. Beeclier's declaration that he had no10 charges
to preter against him, hle concludes as follows:
In conclusion, let me repeat the two points which the above
statements prove, namely:
First:  That  my  voluntary  retirement  from  Plymouth
Church  was wholly in accordance with the rule and spirit of
that chllurch; and
Secoll(i:  Thlat my action toward the pastor hlas always been
prompted by an honorable sense of what constitutes fair dealming between man and man.           Yours, with respect,
THEODORE  TILTON.
Brooklyn, Thursday, March 26, 1874.
The following are the Declarations of Principles and Rules
of Discipline referred to in the report:
Plymouth Church, believing that care in the admission
of members is of more value in maintaining the purity of the
church, than severity in dealing with them after admission,
attaches great importance to the evidence given by candidates
for membership of vital faith in Christ and of spiritual life
begun.  The Examining committee must be satisfied upon
these points before rdcommenlding the candidate to the chlurclh,
138 
PR1NCIPLES.
and letters from other churches are not accepted as substitutes
for personal examination.  All persons who enter Plymouth
Church are, in effect, admitted upon profession of their faith.
The active membership, numbering, about two thousand
three hundred souls, is so organized that ai systematic watch
and care is extended over all, in the form of visitation, inquiry,
fraternal advice, encoutragement, and assistance, and, in the
case of non-resident members, by regular correspondence.   We
recognize it also as our privile,e and duty to reprove and
admonish one another wvithl all fidelity, provided it be in love
and all these duties, while not neg!cted by the members of
the church as individuals, arc moreover laid upon special officers of the church, and so distributed and discharged that no
single member is omitted from this fraternal vigiltnce.
"By the assiduous use of p)ersonal, social, and spiritual influences, by preventing or healing disputes and reclaiming wanderers, we seek to avoid the necessity of judicial discipline;
and this we hold to be not only wise policy but Christian obligation.  Nevertheless, vlwhen tihese means fail, the discipline of
this church is express and energetic.  If any member of our
body brings dishonor upon the Christian profession, we hold
it our dutytv to reclaim him if possible, with all long-suffering
and patience, but, if unsuccessful in this, to make it known
that we are no longer responsible for the dishonor which he has
brought or may bring uipon the name of Christ.'
" If any one desires no longer to be known as a member of
this church, or as a professed follower of (hrist, we hold that,
while we cannot release him from the special obligations to
Christ which he hLas assumed by the public profession of his
faith, we may, and should, adter hlaving endeavored to change
his purpose, release ourselves from our responsibility to and
for him, in whatever method the circumstances of the case
may require, regard being had to the best good of the individual, the well-being of the churchl, and the honor of the Master.'
"While we are ready at all timesto receive suitable inquiry
and to give to sister churches every reasonable explanation
concerning our action in cases of public interest, we hold that
it is our right, and may be our duty, to avoid the evils incident
to a public explanation or a public trial; arid that such an
exercise of our discretion furnishes no good ground for the
interference of other churches,'rovided we  neither  retain
within our fellowship, nor dismiss by letter, as in regular
standing, persons who bring open dishonor upon the Christian
name.
139
0 
D1ISCIPLIXE.
RULES OF DISCIPLINE.
I, As adopted April, 1848.
RULE 5. No member can be deprived of church privileges except by
regular process.  The presentation of complaints may be first made to the
Examining Committee, who shiall, updn sufficient cause, prefer charges to
the whole church, or the complainant may present his complaint in person
to the church.  When a member is accused he shall be seasonably furnished
with a copy of the complaint, and shall have a full hearing.
RULE 6. The censures which may be inflicted on offending members
are, according to the aggravation of the offense, either (1) private reproof,
(2) public admonition, (3) suspension, or (4) excommunication. In cases
of excommunication notice thereof must be given from the pulpit on the
Sabbath.
H.  As amended in 1865.
RULE. 4. Discipline.-Members cannot be censured by the church, except
by the process herein stated. A complaint may be made, either to the
Examining Committe, or the whole church.  In the former case, the clerk
of the committee, and, in the latter case, the clerk of the church must
reduce the complaint to writing, if it is entertained, and must use due
diligence to forward a copy to the accused, and to give him personal
notice of the time and p)lace of hearing.  The accused must hlave a full
opportunity to be heard in his own defense. An accusation presented to
the church must always be heard, either by the church or by tle Exanlining Committee, unless the application for a hearing is rejected at a meeting of the church by a three-fourths vote.
RULE 5.-[Same as Rule 6 above.]
RULE 7. [Adopted, 1859; amended 1871.]-Members may be dropped
from the roll of the church, with or without notice to them, as may be
deemed just, by a two-thirds vote of the church, upon the recommendation of the Examining Committee, either upon their own application, or
in case they have abandoned their connection with the church by prolonged
absence or otherwise, upon the application of any other person.
III. As amended in 1874.
RULE 4. Discipline.-Members cannot be censured except by the process herein stated.
1. Complaints must be made in writing either to the Exanmining Committee or the whole church.
2. If the complaint is made to the Examining Committee, the facts must
first be investigated by it, so jr as to determine whether there is reasonable probability that the charges can be sustained by proof.
3. If tle complaint is made to the church, it may order a similar inves
140
0 
NOT A CCEPTED.
tigation by the Examining Committee, or by special committee, before
deciding to proceed.
4. If the Examining Committee or church decide to proceed with the
case, the clerk of the church must use due diligence to forward a copy of
the complaint to the accused, and, if practicable, to give lhim personal notice
of the time and place of hearing.
5. The accused must, in all cases, when a trial is had, have a full
opportunity to be heard in his own defense.
6. The church may refer any case of discipline to a committee to hear
the evidence, and report its opinion on the whole case, or any part thereof.
7.  When a complaint is made to the Examining Committee, the accused,
at his first appearance, may require the committee to submit to the church
the question, whether the complaint shall be taken out of the committee
for trial, and the committee cannot proceed meantime.
8. Proceedings before the Examining Committee shall be kept private
until otherwise ordered by the church; and the committee, unless  the
complaint is sustained, or unless it desires instructions, or unless a report
is ordered by vote of the church, shall make no report upon the case.
9. No member of a committee can vote upon its final report in case
of discipline, unless he has heard and read the evidence and arguments in
the case, except by consent of both the complainant and the accused.
10. If the evidence has been taken by a committee, the church is not
bound to hear evidence on either side.
11. Final censure cimn be inflicted only by the church, and by concurrence
of two-thirds of all present and voting.
Rules 5 and 7 unchanged.
"On  motion the Moderator  and Clerk  by a vote of four
hundred  and eighty to  nothing were  directed  to sign  and
transmit  the documents  to  the  Council, and  Dr.   Edward
Beechler. H. W.  Sage, and R. W.   Raymond  were  appointed
messengers, when tile meeting adjourned.
This was not accepted by the Council and spread upon the
minutes for the reason that it was the sense of the Council that
it was a matter of which they could not take cognizance. Mr.
Tilton then sai(l:
GENTLE.fEIN, CLERICAL AND LAY: I received yesterday tllhe
courteous note of your Moderator informing me of the technical reasons why my communication to your honorable body
could not be officially put on the minutes. I respectfully offer
you this present brief letter as a substitute in the hope that it
141 
VERDICT.
may be within the possibility of your acceptance for record.
Among the five points which you are asked to decide concerning my case with the Plymouth Church  the second will pass
into permanent statement on your journal as follows:
During the voluntary absence of a member from the ordinances, if specific charges of grossly unchristian conduct are
presented against him by a brother in the church, to which
charges he declines to answer, &c.,
The above statement, which has been constantly reiterated
duringo your proceedings, implies that gross charges were
made against me, and that these charges I declined to answer.
Gelntlemen of the Council, every man among you knows
that I did not decline to answer.
I ask you, therefore, as an act of justice to me, to permit
the true record to accompany the false. Respectfully yours,
THEODORE TILTON.
Brooklyn, Saturday, March 28.
The deliberations of the Council covered several days, and
resulted in the verdict given below:
The Council has listened carefully to the Committees of the
churches by which it was convened, and has received from
them a clear and earnest statement of the aims and principles
which have determined the action of these churches in the
proceedings which they ask us to review.
We have also received from the Plymouth Church a communication declining an invitation from this Council, as well
as from the two churches, to appear by its pastor and the Committee and assist in the presentation and discussion of the
questions before  us, but at the same trme offering  suggestions and arguments which we have carefully and candidly
considered.
WVe cannot doubt the right of these two churches to ask
advice of ius concerning the regularity and Christian character
of what they have done in their dealings withl the Plymouth
Church.  No church is beyond the reach of the public opinion
of other churches, expressed either directly or through an
ecclesiastical council.
Any church in its essential and inalienable independence
may in the exercise of a reasonable discretion consider any
public action of any otl!f church; may, in proper methods,
express its approvalor disapproval, and may make that public
action the subject of friendly correspondence and remonstrance,
142
0 
THE AB G UMENT.
or if need be, the ground of a temporary or permanent cessationI of acts cf iiitercoiiiiniition.
There has l een laid before us a series of letters that have
passed between these two churches and the Plymouth Church.
On that correspondence it is our unquestionable right to have
an opinion anid to express it, thlouoh we have no right to try
the Plymnouth Church as a party before us.  We have to say,
then, tlhat the letter of remonstrance and admonition with
which the correspondence began was not uncalled for.
The churches throughout the United States, and the general
public also, felt a painful anxiety on a question imminent and
urgent in this city of Brooklyn, and involving the honor,
not of the Congregational churches only, but of Christianity
itself.
Without any explicit reference to that question, it will
suffice to say that in the Plymouth Church a complaint was
brought ag(ainst a member tliLt lie had "circulated and promoted sc;andals derogatory to the Chlristian integrity of the
pastor and injurious to the reputation of the  church."  The persoit complained of a)pecared in the church meeting and declared
that four years before that time lie lhad by his own volition terminated his connection withl the church; and tl-hereupon his name
was by a vote of the church dropped firom the catalogue of its
members.   That action of the Plymoutth  Chutrchl  was the
occasion onI which these two churches interposed, and with a
request for a friendly conference.
In this act they represented the interests of the fraternity of
Congregationial Churches, whose principles of discipline and
whose fair Christian falme were endangered by the course which
Plvmouth Church seemed to be pursuing.
For this moratl hieroismn they deserve thanks, even shioul.l
errors of judgment be traceable in some of the details of' their
procedure.  In our consideration of the letter then atddressed to
thc Plymouth Church, we find that the impression madle by it wasc
in some m(.asutrc different from  wlhat was intended by its
authors.  AVWritten under the pressure of apprehensions and
anxictis long, suppressed, it seems to lhav.e impinged  more
faithlfuliv tlhani was intended ol  the sensibilities of those to
whom it was addressed.  To many the letter seems entirely
unexceptionable in matter and  ii manlier, and entirely appropriat; to the occasion; whie tootlier's it seems unnecessar'ily
severe in the tone ot' its cond(leni.ttion of the proceedings
complained of. In their second letter thlle comp)laining churches
I
143 
THEY' DO 1NOT ADVISE PLY MOUTH.
having found what impression they had made by their remonstrance offered an explanation, which, we trust, was not unacceptable. Concerning the reply of Plymouth Church to
that letter, we say nothing more than that an ingenuous
explanation of the reasons which had prompted Plymouth
Church to rid itself of an offending member by an exceptional
method might have brought the correspondence to an early
and happy determination.  We can see no sufficient reason
why the request Qf the complaining churches for a fraternal
conference should not have been granted.
In the subsequent correspondence we see on the part of the
complaining churches an expression of their desire to unite
with the Plvmouthl Church in referring the points of difference
to the advice of a Council.
We find on the part of Plymouth Church no definite expression either of consent or refusal.  Yet, inasmuch as the Plymouth Church did not distinctly refuse to unite on a reference to a Council, we cannot but regret that the complaining
churches did not urge their request till a refusal or an evasion
should have become unequivocal.
We are not invited nor do we take it upon ourselves to advise
the Plymouth Church concerning its methods of dealing with
offenders. But we are invited to advise these two churches on
certain questions.
Therefore, we say distinctly that the idea of membership in
a Congregational Church is the idea of a covenant between the
individual member and the church; that by virtue of that
covenant the member is responsible to the church for his conformity to the law of Christ, and the church is responsible for
him; and that this responsibility does not cease till the church,
by some formal and corporate act, has declared the dissolution
of the covenant. The covenant may be broken by the member. He may offend, and when duly admonished, may give
no satisfactory evidence of repentance. In that case, he is cut
off from communion; the Church having given its testimony
is no longer responsible for him, and he can be restored only
by the removal of the censure. Voluntary absence of a resideit member from the Communion of the Church, and from
its public worship, does not dissolve the covenant, but is a
reasonable ground of admonition and, if persisted in, of final
censure.                  e
When a regular co(nplaint is made against such a member,
that in some other respect he violates the laws of the Church,
144
0 
ACTION OF PLYMO UTH NOT A P-RECDENT.  145
and especially when the complaint is that he has circulated
and promoted scandals derogatory to the Christian integrity of
the pastor and injurious to the reputation of the Church, the
consideration that he has long ago forsaken the Church is only
an aggravation of his alleged fault.
In regard to the future relations between these churches and
Plymouth Church, we express our hope that the very extraordinary proceeding which gave occasion for the correspondence
and for this Council will not be a precedent for the guidance
of that Church hereafter. Could we suppose that such proceedings will be repeated, we should feel that the disregard of
the first principles involved in the idea of church membership,
and the idea of the fellowship of churches with each other,
would require the strongest possible protest. But the cominunication from the Plymouth Church to this Council makes
professions and declarations which justify the hope that such
deviation from the orderly course of discipline will not be
repeated.
The accused person in that case has not been retained in the
church nor commended to any other church.
WVe recite some of those declarations from the Plymouth
Church which encourage the hope we have expressed: "VWe
rejoice," says the Plymouth Church, to live in affectionate fellowship with all churches of the Lord Jesus, and especially
with those who are in all things like-minded withl us, holdi)g
to the samne faith and order, not, only in things fundamental
bit in things less essential yet dear to us by conviction or association."'-We cheerfully admit that whenever any church
shall openly and avowedly change the essential conditions upoii
which it was publicly received into the fellowship of neighboring churches, or shall by flagrant neglect exert a pernicious
and immoral influence uipon the community, or upon sister
churches, it is their right either by individual action or by
counsel to withdraw their fellowship.   We hold that preceding
disfellowship in all such cases there should be such affectionate
and reasonable inquiry as shlall show that the evil is real, that
the causes of it are within the control of the church, that the
evil is not a transient evil, such as may befall any church, but
is permanent and tending to increase rather thant diminish."
While it is not to be forgotten that this communication fromnt
Plymouth Church is entirely subsequent to the case as it stood
upon the convening of this Council,when the Plymouth Church,
by its action of December 5thl, had declared itself responsible
7
0 
OBLIGATIONS OP FELLOWSHIP.
for no other church, and no other church for it, in respect to
doctrine, order and discipline, which action, as interpreted in
the circumstances then existing, implied a withdrawal to the
ground of total independency, yet that church is to be frater nally judged l)y its latest utterance.
These professions on the part of Plymouth Church may be
accepted by other  churches as indicating its intention to
maintain an efficient discipline, and to regard the mutual
responsibility of churches.  At the same time, the Council feels
constrained to declare that these declarations seem to us incoIn sistent with the resolution of interpretation adopted by Plymouth Church, December 5th, 1873, and with other acts and
statements appearing,, in the published documents.  We think
that the action of that chlurch, as presented in these doctuments, if unmollified, would justify these churches in withdrawing fellowship.  Yet, inasmulch as the Plymouth Church
seems to us to admit, in its communication to us, the Congregational principles of discipline and fellowship, we advise the
churches convening this Council to maintain with it the relations of fellowship as heretofore, in the hope that Plymouthl
Ci',urch may satisfy these chlurcles of its acceptance of the
principles which it has been supposed to disavow.
WAVe also desire in this connectioln to reaffirm and emphasize
the doctrine laid down in all our platformis of the obligations
of Fellowship.  This duty applies to all Christian churches.
In the case of those instituted and united in accordance with
the Congregational polity, it involves that more intimate communion which is exercised in askinig and giving counsel, in
giving and receiving admonition, and other acts relating to
doctrine, order and discipline.
This imutual responsibility of the Congregational churches
)as characterized their system from the beginning, distinguishiig it from simple independency.
With the autonomy of the local church it is one of the formative and essential principles of Congregation alism.  Without
it we have no basis in our polity for that system of cooperative
effort to which our churches aire pledged.  We regard, therefore, the principles of Fellowship which  the pastors  and
churches conventing us have so earnestly maintained to be those
which we have received from our Father and the word of
God.                      a
We appreciate and honor their fidelity to those principles
uider circumstances of peculiar and severe trial, and we offer
146
6 
DR. BACON'S LECTURE.
our earnest prayer to the great Head of the Church that He
may bestow upon them and the pastor and Church with which
they hlave been in correspondence wisdom and grace; that He
may guide them in all their actions, and-that He may quicken
in all our churches, through these painful trials, a spirit of
renewed fidelity to the sacred obligations of our covenants and
our church communion, and we pray that He  to whom  all
power in heaven and on earth is given, and who has promised
to be with His church always, even to the end of the world,
and who, under the inspiration of His spirit and His truth
has joined these churches in a grand and memorable past,
standing shoulder to shoulder in the great moral and spiritual
battles of the age, may again unite them in the future conflicts
and victories of His kingdom.
LEONARD BACON, Moderators.
C. L. WALKER,
A. II. QUI1NT,       Scrbes
J. C. 3ESERVE,   } Scribes.
Clinton Avenue Conqregational C/lurch,
Brooklyn, March 28th, 1874.
In April following the adjournment of the Council, Rev.
Dr. Bacon delivered a lecture in New Haven before the middle
class of Yale College upon the action of the Council.   We
extract it:
I have been giving to the Senior Class a series of lectures,
as they might be called by courtesy-more properly familiar
talks-about the theory and practice of the Congregational
Church polity. Having been requested by the Middle Class
to interpose among my talks to them onI American church history an account of the Council which was held last week at
Brooklyn, I propose to make use of that conspicuous example
as an illustration of whlat I have been teaching more abstractly in general statements of the principles and usages which
regulate either the self-government of our churches or their
intercominunion.
Remember the two principles, which, taken together and
carried out into all their applications, are the Congregational
polity.
1. Every stated and organized assembly of Christian  disciples and worshipers is a church full and complete, self-gov-: 
erned under the law of Christ, and having in itself all church.:
power. 
147 
I IiA T IS A COUiNCIL.
2. There is an intercommunion of churches, and there are
mutual duties which that intercommunion involves. As there
is intercourse between independent States, each asserting its
own sovereignty, so there is intercourse between churches mu   tually independent, and each maintaining its own self-govern   meiit under Christ  As political sovereignties are responsible
one to another, so churches are mutually responsible.  As there
are principles of justice and comity which regulate the inter   e()urse of nations and which are international law, so there are
principles which ought to regulate the intercommunion of all
churches, and which our churches profess to recognize.
So much for preliminaries. We come now to our particular
subject, the Brooklyn Council of 1874:
I. What is a Council as understood and practiced by Congre    gationalists? (Platform of 1865, Part III., Chapters 1, 2.)
1. Not a permanent organization like a Presbytery or a
Methodist Conference.  It comes into existence for a special
occasion, performs its work well or ill, and exists no longer.
2. Not a governing body.  It can inflict no censures in the
technical sense.  Its judgment on whatever subject takes ef    f,ct only as it is freely accepted and made effectual by the
ch turches.
3. Its function is to consult, to give light, to form and ex    press opinions concerning a given statement of facts, or cotn    cerning facts, which it ascertains by testimony-in a word, to
advise.
II. On what occasion and by what right was this council
convened?
1. A certain proceeding in the Plymouth Church was public
and (taken in connection with foregoing circumstances) scan    dalous, i. G. causing offense, an occasion  of stutiblintg.  It
was a proceeding in which other churches had an interest.
2. The two nearest chliurches —nearest in the intimacy of
their relations to the Plymouth Church-interposed with uni    ted remonstrance.  (Ought they not rather to have interposed
in a closer analogy with the rule concerning personal offenses?
first one, then two or three?)
3. A correspondence ensued, with no satisfactory resutlt-no
explanation of the questionable proceedings. A proposal for
a mutual council was Bade by the complaining churches, but
was not accepted..
;'4. The complaining churches thought they needed advice
'..   and therefore sought advice-through this Council.  (Platform
1-18 
GREAT UN'ANIMITY.
1865, P. III, ch. ii., sec. 7 (3), f. 52.) This was their right.
III. What were the powers of the Council, and the limitations under which it acted?
1. It had not the power of a mutual council.  The:, were
no two parties before it.
2. It had not the power conceded by Congregational usage
to an ex pairte Council.  An aggrieved member or minority in
a church may, under certain conditions (one of which is that
a mutual Council shall have been distinctly refused by the
other party, namely the church), invite the neighbor churches
to review the action complained of, and to give advice concerning it. This was not at all a Council of that sort. The Plymouth Church had an interest in the case, but it was not a
party to the proceedings. The Council could give it no advice, still less arraign it for trial.
3.  The Council had just so much power as the constituent
churches had committed to it, by sending their delegates in
answer to the letter "Missive."  That letter, with the subsequent action of the churches invited by it, was its charter.
4. Therefore it had no power to put the pastor of Plymouth
Church on trial, directly or indirectly. It had as little power
to vindicate him as to condemn him. It had no right to assume any other theory than that of his Christian integrity.
Any statement that the result of the Council was in some way
a vindication of that eminent minister is absurd. It was for
the Plymouth Church to vindicate its pastor against a damaging imputation from one of its own members. But with great
alacrity-the pastor himself consenting-it threw away the
opportunity of vindication.
IV. What were the points on which advice was sought from
the Council?
In essence there were only two, presented uinder various aspects in a series of questions, which the Council carefully considered, voting upon most of them with great unanimity in
their private session, though they did not think it necessary to
answer those several questions, one by one, in their result.
1. That act just referred to, in which the Plymouth Church
th     rew away the               opportunity of vindicating its pastor, was what
g       atve occasion   for remonstrance from neighboring churches.
A       s          stated in the Result of the Council it was this: "In the
Plymouth Church a complaint was brought against a member
that he had'circulated and promoted scandals derogatory to
t    h      e      Christian integrity of the tstor, and injurious to the rep
0
149 
WHAT WAS DON E
utation of the Church! The person complained of appeared
in the church-meeting, and declared that four years before that
time he had, by his own volition, terminated  his c, nnection
with the Church; and thereupon his name was, by vote of the
Church, dropped from the catalogue of its members." The
regularity of this proceeding, that is, the consistency of it with
the true idea of the relation between a Christian Church and
its individual members, was the first point submitted to the
Council for its advice.
2. The advice of the Council on that point mnight be such as
would make advice on another point necessary for the guidance
of the complaining churches.  if the action of the Plymouth
Church in the case referred to was inconsistent with the true
idea of the relation between a church and its members, what
more ought these two complaining churches to do in the mat ter? Should they continue to interchange with the Plymouth
Church those acts of inter-communion which constitute the
special fellowship of the Congregational Churches? This ques tion was the more serious because the action complained of
was not apologized for as exceptional and unlikely to be re peated, but was defended as normal-an instance of the re sponsiobility to which the members of that church are held by
their covenant; and because by a published note it had inter preted its rules as relieving "all other churches from responsi bility for the doctrine, order, and discipline of [that] church,
and [that] churclh from all responsibility for those of other
churches." Advice was therefore desired by the two conmplaining churches onI the question of withdrawing from special
communion with the Plymouth Church.
V. What was done by the Council.
To give a general answer, I may say, not muchl, for the reason that there was little to be done.  In such a case, so large
a body must take a long tinie to do a little-to enunciate tihe
case, to find out what can be done and what cannot be done.
I have mentioned the fact that the case was before the Council
in the form of published and official docunments.  Tlhese dociments were supplemented by,t communication which the I'lymouth Church sent in reply to an invitation from the Council,
atid lwhichi made such professions and declarations as miglt
justify a hope that the exceptional and very exceptiornabl)le
action complained of wouldnot be repeated.  The Result, then,
of the C,>u)ncil affirms:
1. That thie complaining Aiurchles had a right to ask advice
150
t
I 
BEECt,llE'S INTEGRITY.
concerning the regularity and Christian character of what
they had done in their dtealings with the Plymouth Church.
2. That in their remonstrance they acted in the interest of
the entire fraternity of Congregational churches, and deserved
thanks for tltheir "moral heroism."
3.  That their first letter made an impression in some measure different from what was intended, and wounded tile sensibilities of those to whom it was adldressed, for which they had
made ill a subsequent letter all nece,sstlry explanation.
4. That an  ingenuous explanationi from  the Plymouth
Church of the reasons which had moved it to rid itself of an
offendillg member  by an exceptional  method  nigllt have
broug,ht the correspondence to an early and happly termination.
5. That the complaining churches would have done wisely
if they had urged their request for a mutiual council till refinsal or evasion on the part of the Plymouth Church should have
become unequivocal.
6. That without obtruding upon the Plymouthl Church any
advice concerning its method of dealing with offenders, the
principles maintained by the complaining churches in regard
to responsibility of church members are sound.
7. That in view of the latest utterance from the Plymouth
Chliurchl concernilig its method of discipline and its regard fior
the intercommunion of the Congregational cirurches, the coniplainiig c(lurches are advised to maintaiin with it the relations
of iellowslii) as heretofore, in the hot)e that the Plymouth
Churchl may satisfy them of its acceptance of those prinlciples
which it has been supposed to disavow.
And now, some of you may think that what has been said
has been dictated by suspicion of Mr. Beecher's purity.  My
theory of all these transactions and troubles proceeds on a belief in the highest Christian integrity of Mr. Beecher. I believe that the infamous women who have started this scandal
have no basis for it.  [Applause. ]  If it were their testimony
alone, it would not be worth kicking a dog for.  But I doubt
lot that he has his infirmity, which is to let unprincipled menr.
know too much of him.  I object not to his being a friend to
p)tublicans atid sinners.  Our Lord was.   But thle hliarlot wiio
washed his feet with her tears, and wiped teni witlh her tresses, was a repentant harlot.  So  pe must hceIge hiliself in a
little.  And you, as you go out to preach, be on your guard,
lest in your ainxiety to (lo goat to the low you becoine liable to
be charged with their si118s.
151
0 
E5b XAGNAqNINT.Y.
Another part of my theory is that Mr. Beecher's magnanimity is unspeakable.  I never knew a man of a larger and more
gelerous mind.  One who was in relations to himn the nmost intim,ate possible, said to me, "If I wanted to secure his highest
lo?'e, I would go inito a church-meeeting and accuse himn of
criunes."  This is his spirit.  But I think he may carry it too
far.  A man whose life is a treasure to the Church Universal,
to his country, to his age, has no right to subject the faith in it
to stch a strain.  Some one has said that Piymouth Church's
dealing with offenders is like Dogberry's. The comparsion
was apit: "If any one will not stand, let him go, and gather
the guard and thank God that you are rid of such a knave."
So of Lance, who went into the stocks and the pillory to save
his dog from execution for stealing puddings and  geese.   I
think he would have done better to let the dog (lie. And I
think Mr. Beecher would have done better to hlave let vengeance come on the heads of his slanderers.
But he stands before his Master, and not before men. I
hope ever to feel the fullest confidence in his character, and to
see his influence enlarge and round out more and more. No
one could give such a course of lectures as this last one of his here
-which was the best-and show unconsciously such a reach of
spiritual experience and growth, without being pure and noble.
[Applause.] And in this feeling the Council shared. Dr.
himself said to me as we went out of the church after
Dr. Storrs' address, in which he paid his high tribute to Mr.
Beecher's character and work.  "Thit passage should be saved
to be Mr. Beechler's funeral eulogy, for it could never be excelled."
This address of the Ex-Moderator of the Council was supplemented by several articles in the Independent published by
MIr. Henry C. Bowen, from the pen of Dr. Bacon. These articles severely criticised the action of Mr. Tilton and were
written in such language as was well calculated togoad that
gentleman into a defence of his position.
152
0
0 
CHIIAPTER VI.
MR. TILTON'S CELEB,RATEI) REPLY TO DR. BACON'S CRITICISMS.
— HIS DECLARATION TtIAT OWING TO THE EFFORTS MADE BY
MR. BEECHER'S FRIENDS TO CRUSH HIM HE FELT CALLED
UPON TO SHOW THAT HE WAS NOT THE CREATURE OF MR.
BEECHER'S MAGNANIMITY.-THE LETTER OF BEECHER ASK  ING THEODORE TILTON'S FORGIVENESS.-" I HUMBLE MYSELF
BEFORE HIM AS I WOULD BEFO1RE MY GOD."-THE OFFENSE
COMMITTED AGAINST TILTON BY BEECH ER, WHICH THEODORE
FORBEARS TO NAMIE.-TILTON SPURNS A PROPOSITION FROM
BEECHER'S FRIENDS TO PAY HIS EXPENSES IF HE WILL RE  TREAT TO EUROPE WITH HIS FAMILY.
U PON the congregation who worship at Plymouth Church
there had settled the conviction that the great majority of
the distinguished diviies and laymen who formed that celebrated council were d(lissLtisfied with the result of the conference, that failed to re-open the case, and compel Mr. Beecher's
church to force him to answer before it the charges so explicitly made, and while many hoped that-to use an expressive
but unlicensed word —that body having been "bluffed" by
the Plymouth society, there was likely to be an end of the
effort in behalf of an investigation. Others saw clearly that
grave complications were likely to arise in the future.  They
argued that the declared independence of Plymouth of sister
Congregational churches was likely to aggravate instead of
allaying the excitement, andresult in a combined movement
on the part of the disanrointed and defeated council, and its
7*               153 
TIL TO'S RESPONSE TO BACON.
distinguished moderator, Dr. Bacon, to force an investigation
by some more summary  means.   The  publication of  Dr.
Bacon's address and essays on the subject, referred to in the
precedingo chapter, convinced these gentlemen t'.latt their suts piCiolls were well founded, and they intuitively came to the
conclusion that these articles by tl e moderator were prepared
specially to pave the way for a response from Mr. Tilton that
would compel the church to act promptly in the premises.  It
was well known within the corporation of the church and especially to the more confidential friends of the pastor, that.
the celebrated gentlemen who formed that council keenly felt
the slilght given them by the course the society of Plymouth
Church had followed on the advice of Mr. Beecher, and none
of them were surprised when  Mr. Tilton spoke in the able
review of the ease a few days later.  As this document is of so
great importance that no history of the scandal would be complete without it, it is here given in full.  It is in the following
words, as published in Mr. Tilton's Golden Age, June 24th.
The Rev. Leonard Bacovz, D. D., L. L. D., ex-Jfoderator of
the Brooklyn Council-Siu-I have carefully read your New
Haven address concerning the late Council, and also your five
essays on the same subject, just concluded in the  n(Inpendent.
The numerous and extraordinary misrepresentations of my
position which these writings of yours will perpetuate to my
injury, if not corrected, compel me to lay before you the data
for their correctioin-misrepresentations which, on your part,
are of course wholly unintentional, for you are incapable of
doing any man a willful wrong.
In producing to your inspection some hitherto unpublished
papers and documents in this case, I need first to state a few
ifacts in chronological sequence, sufficient to explain the documentary evidence which follows:
I.  After I had b en for fifteen yeans a, member of Plymoutli
Church, and had become meanwhile an intimate friend of the
Pastor, knowledge came to me in 1870 that he had committed
aogailnst me AN OFFENSE WHI(,tI   I FORBEAR TO NAM3E OR CHARACTERIZE.  Prompted by my  self-respect, I immediately and
forever ceased my attendancean his ministry. I informed him
of this determination as ear-lv as January, 1871, in the presenlce of a mutual frien(f,d Mir. Francis D. Moulton.
15-1
0 
P.EA,SONS FOR LEA VING PLYMOUTI.
The rules of Plvmouthi  Church afforded me a choice betweeni
two methollds of retirement:  One, to ask for a formaLl letter of
dismissal; the otlher t) dismiss mnself less formally  by pro lonied absence.  I chose the latter.   ii so doing, my chief
desire was to avoid giving rise to curiols inquiries into the
reasons for my  abiclndoinin, a Clhurchl in whichl  I had beeii
brought up from bovhlood: and therefore I did not invite attenltilon to the subijec-t by asking for a dismissory letter, but
adopted the alternative of silently staying away, —relying on
the rule that a prolonged absence would finally scure to me a
dismi,ssal involving no pul)licity to tlhe case.
Several powerfal reasons prompted Ime to the adoption of
this alternative amoingi whlich were the following: Thle Pastor
communicated to me  in writing an apology, signed by  lhs
name.   He also appealed to me to pr,)tect him from bringiing
rel)roach to the cause of religion.  HIe alleged that ani exposure WOULD FORBID HIM TO IREASCEND HIS PULI'IT.  Thlese,
and other similar reasons, I had no rigllt or disposition to disr'!''ard(; and I acted upon them witl a conscious desire to see
3Ii. Beeclier protected rather thanli hrmed.
II.  At lelngth my ab.sence from the Church-an abtl)sence of
which  not three menmbers of thle congregation, beside  tlhe
Pastor, knew the cause-beg,,L  to excite commieyt;ia \i;te
Qkcles.
Some  of the members  hinited  that I had  lapsed into a
lamentable change of religious views; whereas my views Con —
tilued to be the same as they l.had been for many yeLars previous, and, thioughl  tlhy had long before ceascd to find tlheir
honest expression in the formal creed whiclh I had professed( iii
my  childhood at the altar of  Plymouthl  Chlturlch,  yet my
religioIus faithl had not cl.hanged froiom thlit early orig,inali more
thani the views of some of the most honored menibers and
officers of the same  Cliurchli had claniiged within  the sanle
time.
Other persons insinuated that I had adopted  unchristian
tenets concerning marcriage  ncid di-(orce: whereas, toelicinig
niarriage, I have al ways held, and stil lhold, with ever-ilcrea,sig  firmness, thle oie ad(d only viev conimoii to all (;.listcndomi; and touchingi  dii-oice, the substaneiic of what I held was,
and still is, the needfl  abr(-o1atio, of our unjust New  York
code, and the substitution of the m lore humanec legislation of
New England and the West.'
Other persons fancied tihat I had beome a Si)irituialist of aii
155
0 
S U.RREPTITIO US P UBLICA TIONS.
extravagant type; whereas I l1ave never yet seen my way clear
to be a Spiritualist at all,-certainly not to be so much  a
Spiritualist as some of the most prominent members of Plymouth Churclh are known to be.
All these suppositious,-and- many othlers,-but never the
right one,-became current in the Church (and still are) to
explain my suddenly-ended membership,-tlie true reason for
which has been understood always by the Pastor, but never by
his flock.
III.  At length, after many calumnious whisperings  near
and far (since evil tales magnify as they travel), a weekly paper
in New  York, in November, 1872, published a wicked  and
liorribl)le scandal,-a publication which some persons in the
Church ignorantly attributed in its origin and aiinmus to me;
whereas I had previously slpent many months of COXST.XXT
AND  UNREMIITTING ENDEAVOR TO SUPPRESS IT,-an eni(leavor
in whlichl, with an earnlest mlotive, but a foolish judgimient, I
made many ill-dire(cted sacrifices of my reputation, position,
money, and fair prospects in life; for all which losses of things
precious, since mine alone was the folly, let mine alone be the
blame.
IV.   In May, 1873, occurred the surreptitious publication
of a tripartite agreement signed by H. C. Bowen,  11. W.
Beecher, and myself,-an agreement whicl, so far as I was
concerned, had for its object to pledge me to silenlce against
using or circulating  charges which Mr. Bowen had made
against Mr. Beecher.  This covenant, as originally written,
would have bound nme never to speak, not only of Mr. Bowen.'s,
but also of my own personal grievances against Mir. Beecher.
I refused to sign the original paper.   My p)osition in the
amended paper was this:  Mr. Bowen had made grave chlarges
against Mair. Beecher.'l hese clharges MAr. Bowen had been
induced to recall in writing.  I cheerfully agreed never to
circulate the chlirges which Mir. Bowen hlad recalled.
V.   In August, 1813, AIr. William  F.  West, a member of
Plymouthl Clihurch, hitherto a stranger  to me,  came  to  my
residence, acc(mpanied  (at his request.) by my friend, Mr.
F. B. Carpent(,r, iand told me that, when the suimmer-va-cation
was over hle (Mr. W.) meant to cite me before the Clhurch on
the charge of circulating scandals against the Pastor,-declariilg, in Mr. C.'s presence, that Mr. Beeclher had acted as if
the reported scandalous tales were true rather than false, and
urgiing that I owed it to myself and the truth to go forward
41
156 
INDIRECT AND INSINCERE METHOD.
and become a willing witness in an investigation.  I perempltorily declined to join M[r. West in his proposed investigati(on,
a-d( declared thl(-t, as I had not been a member of Plymouth
Chirceh for several years, I could not be induced to return to
that, Chlurchl  for any purpose whatever, least of all for so distast(-ful a purpose as to participate iin a scandal.  Mr. West
had meanwhile discovered tlhat my name still remained on the
Clutrchl-roll;  from  whichl circumstance hle  determined to
assume that I was still a member, and to FORCE ME TO TRIAL.
Accordingly, a few weeks later, hle brought forward  charges
which were nominally against myself, but really against tlle
Pa-trr,-charges which, if I may  characterize them by tile
reently published language of the present Clerk of Plymoutll
Church, were "an indirect and insiucere method of investigating one man  under the false pretense of investigating alnother."
Some leading members, including especially the Pastor,
desired my cooperation iu defeating Mr. West, and I cheerfully
gave it.  To this end, I wrote-with their pre-knowledge aind
at their urgent desire-a letter declining to accept a copy of
the chlarges addressed to me as a member, on the ground that
I had, four years previously, ceas(d my connection with tlhe
Church.  For this letter, I received, on the next day after
sendinig it, the pastor's prompt and hearty thanks.  An understanding was then had between Mr. Beechler and myself, in an
interview at the residence of Mr. Moulton, that Mr. West's
indictment against me was to be disposed of in the followiong
way, namely: by a simple resolution to the effect that, whereas
I had four years previously, terminated my membership; and
whereas by inadvertence my nlame still remained on the roll:
therefore, resolved that the roll be amended in accordance with
the fact.  This was to put Mr. West's case quietly out of court
withlout bringing up the scandal.  To) my surl}rise an ii( di,ilati,,I, I learned on the morning of October 31st, 1873, that
the report which was to be presented at the Chlurch-meet:ing
to be held on that evening would not be in the siml!(e forin
already indicated, but would dclare that, whereas I had l)eeii
charged with  slan.d(ring the Pastor; and whereas I had been
cited bef(.re the Clthurch to meet the charge; and whereas I
had pleaded non-membership as an excuse for not appearing
for trial; therefore resolved, tlt I should be dropped, etc.
This gross imputation, thus foreshadowed to me, led me to
appear in person at the Church on that evening, there to await
157
0 
BEECHER N0 CHARGE TO fARE.
the reading of the forthcoming report.  This report, when it
came to be re,ad, broiught me tie followingty novel iliitelli,eince,
ntm(ely: " WVhereas a copy (of tle c      arges was put iito the
hands of the said Tilton on the 17thl ot' ()ctber, act(l c requtest
miad(le of h7i  i l/tat Ate should ainstuer late sapae by the 23d of
October," etc.
I do not know to this day whose han(l it was that drew the
above report, and therefore I am  happily save(d an offnsive
personality when I say that the statement which I have here
quoted is diametrically the opposite of the truth; for,' inste;td
of my havin.g been requested to answer the charges, I liad been
requested not to answer them.
After the public reading of the above report, I arose in the
meeting, and said, in AIr. Beecller's presence, that, if I had
slantidered him, I would answer for it to his face; to which he
replied, in an equally public manner, that he had so CIIARGE
WIIATEVER TO MAKE AGAINST ME.
IV.  Next, growing out of the Clurch's singular proceedings in the case, came the Coi)gregational Council of which
ye,l were Moderator.
The above facts and events-vlwhich I have mentioned as
briefly as possible, omitting their details-will serve as a sufficient ground-work whereon to base the correction of the unjust
aid iljurious statements which tot hlave unwittingly given
of my participation and responsibility in the case. With the
Congregiltional theories and usages which you hleave so ably
discesseo,!, I have no concern; you are probably right about
them.  But, as to all the essential facts growing out of my
relationship to Plymouthi Church, you have been wholly mnisinformed, as you will see by the following proofs.
I. You say that I retired from the Church, giving no
annlouncement of my so doing to any proper officer; in other
words, that I stole out secretly, letting no one in authority
know of my purpose. Your language concerning me is as
follows:
His position was that hlie had terminated his membership four years
previolusly,-Hot by reqtesting the Chti-ch (as by its rules it might hlave
done) to d)op his narnefi-ora its roll etc.
You then ask:
Is this the beautiful non-stringeiy of the covenant which connects the
members of that Church wih the body, and with each other? What sort
of covenant is that which can be dissolved at any moment, not by mutual
1a8 
SHEARAfAN'S VIEWS.
consent, nor by either party giving notice to the other, but by a silent
volition in the mind of either?
The above is a 7thoro?ighl m2istatenent of the mnanner in which
I left Plymouth Church.
On the very first occasion of my meeting the chief officer of
the Church after my retirement, I gave notice to him of that
retirement.   At a late period, I repeated this notice to other
oflcers of that body.  In evidence of this fiet, I adduce  the
following extract from a recent card byv Mr. Thomas G. Shearman, Clerk of Plymouthl Churchl, published in the  iidepenadenl of June 18th, 1874.  IIe says:
Long before any charges were preferred against him, Mr. Tilton distinctly informed the Clerk of the Church, and various other officers and
members (myself included), that he hac withdrawn, and that his name
ouight to be taken of the roll.
II. You say that I have either "a malicious heart or a crazy
brain."   I know the fountain-head of this opinion.  WIhile
the Council was in session in Brooklyn, the following startling
paragraph appeared in the Brooklyn Uniiott of Saturday, March
2Sthl, 1874:
At the close of the services a Union reporter approached Mr. Beecher
for the purpose of getting his views as to the Council, but lie declined to
be interviewed.  Mr. Shearman, the Clerk, of the Church, however, was
communicative. He said he had received no intimation, as yet, what
course the Council would pursue. In regard to the scandal on Mi.
Beecher he said, so far as Tilton was concerned, he (Tilton) was out of
his mind, off his balance, and did not act reasonsbly.  As for Mrs. Tilton,
she had occasioned the whole trouble while in a half-crazed condition.
she had mnediumistic fits, and while under the strange power that possessed
her often spoke of the most incredible things, declared thiings possible that
were impossible, and, among the rest, had slandered Mr. Beecher.  Mr.
Tilton bimiself had acknowledged that all the other things she hlad told himi
in her mediumistic trance were false and impossible; then why, asked Mr.
Shearman, should the scandal on Mir. Beecher be the only truth in her
crazy words?
My attention was not called to the above paragraph unitIl after
the Council had adjourned and its members had gone to their
homes. At first I was not willing to believe that the Clerk of
Plymouth Church-the same officer whose name had been officially signed to all the documents which the Church had just
been sending to the Council-t-outld have been guilty of so great
159
0 
8SHEARMAN'S APOLOGY.
an o?ttrage against tr?tt7 and decency as the above paragraphl
contained-particulatrly against a lady whose devout religious
fatith and life are at the filrthlest possible remove from Spiritualism or fanaticism of any kund.  Accordingly I procured the
following sworn statement by the reporter, certifying to the
accuracy of his report:
KINGS COUNTY, SS.
Edwin F. Denyse, reporter of the Brooklyn Union, being duly sworn,
deposed as follows:
At the close of the Friday evening meeting in IPlymouth Church, March
27th, 1874, I, in company with another membcr of the press, requested
Mr. Thomas G. Shearman, Clerk of the Chlurch, to commiunicate to us for
publication any facts, or comments, or opinions, which hlie might wish to
make concerning the Congregational Council then in session; whereupon
Mr. Shearman stated in our hearing, and for the purpose for which we
asked him to do so, the allegations contained in the previous paragraph.
And I do swear that this paragraph is a correct and moderate report of
Mr. Slicearman's statement, both in letter and spirit. And I further testify,
that I solicited as a reportert the above statement from Mr. Shlearnlan
because he was the Clerk of the Church, whose name had been affixed in
that capacity to the documents that Plymvnouth Chur(ch had sent to the
Council, and because an opinion from such a high officer would have an
official authenticity and importance.            EDWIN F'. DENYSP:.
Sworn to before me this 1st day of April, 1874.
FRANK  CROOKE, Justice of the Peace.
Shortly after the appearance of Mr. Shlearman's reported interview in the Union, that gentleman sent to me, through Mr.
F. D. Moulton, a letter, the substance of which was that he
(Mr. S.) had  referred in the above  conversation, not  to ime
or wy family, but to other persons. This letter I declined to
receive, and returned it to the writer, with a demand upon
him to retract his untrue and unjust statements. Furthermore, I required,as  a condition of my  accepting from  Mr.
Shearman any apology at all, that this apology should be presented to me in writing  in the  presence  of the Rev. Ilenry
WTard Beecher.   This was promptly done.  At Mr. Moultoi's
house, in  Mr. Beecher's presence.   Mr. Shearman's apologetic
letter was as follows:
BtOOKLY.-, April 2, 1874.
DEAR SIR:-Having seen& paragraphl in the Brooklyn Union of Saturdlay
last, containing a repgrt of a statemient alleged to hlave been mnade by lie
160 
TILTON'S LETTER TO THE CHURCH.
concerning your family and yourself, I desire to assure you that this report
is seriously incorrect, and that I have never authorized such a statemient.
It is unnecessary to repeat here what I have actually said up)on tlhese
subjects, because I am  now satisfied that what I did say was erroneous,
and that the rumors to which I gave some credit were without foundation.
I deeply regret having been nisled into an ant of unintentional injustice.
and am glad to take the earliest occasion to rectify it.  I beg, thlerefol e to
withdraw all that I said upon the occasion referred to as incorrect (although
then believed by me), and to repudiate en,irely the statement imputed to
me as untrue and unjust to all parties concerned.
T. G. SIIEARMAN.
Theodore Tilton, Esq.
The above-named calumny which Mr. T. G. Sliearman tlhus
retracted is but one of several falsehoods against my wife and
myself which hIave boon fostered( by interested parties to explain the action of Plymouth  Clhurch-falsehoods wlhichl, il
some instances, have been corrected in the same way, and
which, in others, still await to be corrected, either in this way,
or a court of justice.
II. You ask,'-When did Mr. Tilton cease to be responsible
to the Plymouth Church?" I answer that I first ceased  my
responsibility to that church when I terminated my membership, four years ago.  I afterwards voluntarily renewed my responsibility to the church on the evening of October 31st, 1 873,
by appearing in person at one of its public meetings, and offering to answer then and there, in the pastor's presence, the
charge that I had slandered him.  Less than two months ago,
I still further renewed my responsibility to Plymouth Church,
as will appear by the following correspondence:
BROOKLYN, May, 4 1874.
Thze Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, Pastor of Plymnouth Church; the R(,v, S.
B. Hlalliday, Associate Pastor; and Mr. Thomas C. Shearman,  Clerk:
GENTLEMEN:-I  address, thi'ough you,  to the Church of which you
are officers, the following statement, which you are at liberty to comnmiunicate to the church tlirougli the Examining  Commnlittee, or in any other
mode, private or I)ulili(,.
The Rev. Leonard Bacon D. D., L. L. I)., Moderator of the recent
CongregatioInal Council, has seen fit since the adjournment of that bodly,
to l)roclaim, publish and reiterate, with signal emphasis, and with the
weight of something like official authority, a grave declaration which I
here quote, namely:
161
0 
TILTON'S PROPOSITION.
"It was for the Plymouth Church," he says, "to vindicate its Pastor
against a damaging imiputation from one of its members.   But with great
altacrity-tle 1'astor himiself consenting-it tlirew away the opportunity of
vindication."*  *  *  "That act," lie continued, " in which thle Plyniouthl
Clurchl  threw away the o1)l)o:tunity of vindi.-ating its Pastor, was what
gave occasion for remionstrance from 7neighlboring Clhurches."  *  *  *
"1There are many," lie says also, "not only in B13rooklyn, but elsewhere,
who felt that the Church had not fairly met the question, and by evadin.g
the issue had tlirowti away thle opportunity to vindicate its Pastor."
Thle Moderator's declaration is thus made three tinmes over, that  the
Plynioutli Church, in dealing with my case, threw away its opportunity of
vin(licating the Pastor.
This declaration, so emipliatically repeaitced by the chief mouth-piece of tlhe
Council, and put forthl by liiiii a)pparently,as an exposition of the Council's
views, comipels me, as the third party to tlhec controversy, to choose between
two alternatives.
One of these is to remaini   contentedly in the dishonoral)le position of a
man who denies to his former Pa:stor an opportunity for vindication of that
Pastor's chliaracter,-an oflense the more heinous because an unsullied
character and reputation are requisites to his sacred office.
The other alternative is for Ilie to restore to his Church their lost opportunity for his vindication by presenting myself voluntarily for thle salue
trial to which thle Church would have power to summion me if I were a
iieilber,-. suggestion wh lich (judging from my  past experience) will subjc(it'iie afresh to thle unjust iniiitutation of reviving a scandal for the su)ppr ssi n of whichl I have iii.ade iiiore sacrifices than all other persons.
IBetween these two alternatives,-wliicli are all that tlhe MAod.rator leaves
to nme, and which are both equally repugnant to my feelings,-duty requires
me to choose thle secoTnd.
I, therefore, give you notice that, if the Pastor, or the Examining Coimmittee, or tlhe Clurlch as i body, desire to repossess the opportunity whlich
the MAlo(lerator lanients that you have thrown away, I hereby restore to you
this lost opportunity as freely as if you had never parted with it.
I authorize you  (if such  be your  pleasure) to cite me at any time
within the next thirty days to appear at tlhe bar of Plymouth Church for
trial on thle clharge heretofore niade against me, n,amely: that of circuliting and prolmoting scandals derogatory to thle Cllristian integrity of tlhe
Pastor, and injurious to tlhe reputation of tlle Church.
Mly onily stipulaition concerning the trial is, that it shlall not be held wvith
closed doors, nor in thle absence of thle lPastor.
I regret keenly tlhat the MI(*erat(or lhis iimposed upon me the necessity
for nilkiing this commnunication, but not}hing but necessity would extort it.
6
162 
PL YMO UTH BACKS DO1) W.
Thle practical good which I seek to achieve by this proposition is, that,
wlictlier accepted or declined, it will in either case, effectually put an end
forever to thle Mod(lerator's grave charge that Plymouthl Churchl  hals been
dep)rived thlrough mie of an olpportunity to vindicate its Pastor, or thlt its
Pastor hlas been by any act of mine deprived of an opportunity to vindicate
himiself.                               Truly ywurs,
TIIEODORE TIILTON.
To the above communication I received the following reply
firom the Clerk of the Church:
BROOKLYN May 18th, 1874.
DEAR SIR:-Your note of the 4th inst., inclosing a letter addressed to
Mr. Beechler, Mr. Halli(lday and myself, was duly receivel.
This letter has been received by MAr. Ilalliday, with whose concurrence
it has been submitted to thle Examining Conmnittee: and we all deei, its
contents to present a questio,n which should be decided( by that Commiittee,
and which should not be sub,nitted to the Pastor of the Church, to whonm,
tlherefore, the letter has not been shown, though lie has been advised of its
substance.
Having consulted the members of tlhe conimittee, I am infornmed by them
that tl(hey see nio reason for accepting your proposition, or even for laying
it before the Church.
Whatever view  may be taken of the case by others, the Examining
Committee and the Chlurch  havel seen no necessity for vindicating any
member of the Clurchl  from chlarges which no one lIas made, and thle
Cllurch has never, in tlle twenty-seven years of its history, adopted such
a course.  No one can, therefore, hold you responsible for the loss of an
opportunity to the Chlurch to do that which it never yet has done, and
probably never will do.
We do not understand your letter as implying that you have any charge
to make, but to thle contrary.  If the Committee hlad so understood it, thley
would have readily entertained and fully investigated it.
It is proper to add that your namie was dropped from the roll, not simply
because of the statements made by you after charges had been preferred
against you, but because months, if not years, before any  charges were
nlade, you distinctly stated to various officers and menmbers of the Chlurcl
tlat you lthad permanently abandoned your connection with it, thus bringing
yourself expressly within the terms of our rule upon this subject.
Yours truly
THOMAs G. SIIEARMAN.
Mli. TIIEODORE TILTON.
163
0 
SHEARMAN'S NOTE OFFICIAL.
As the above communication by Mr. Shearman seemed to
bear no official, but only a private signature, 1 addressed to
him the following commuiiictLtioi:
174 LIVINGSTON STREET, BROOKLYN, 
May 23d, 1874.
lfMr. Thomas  (. Shearman,  Clerk of Plyrmooth  Church-SIR:-My
recent coimmiunication, addressed to the Pastor, Associate Pastor, and the
Clerk of Plymnouth Church, is acknowledged l)y you in a note which you
seem to have signed merely as a private individual, and not as an officer of
the Church.
I call your attention to the fact that I did not address you in your
private capacity, but solely as the Clerk of Plymouthl Chlurch.
1 therefore respectfully request to be informed by you definitely in
writing, wliethlier or not I am at liberty to regard your letter an official
reply to mine.                  Truly yours,
THEODORE  TILTON.
Mr. Shearman's reply was as follows:
81 Hiciis STRErE,T, BROOKLYN, May 29, 1874.
I)DRAR Sir:-In reply to your inquiry whether my letter of the 18th inst.
was an official answer to yours of the 4thl inst., I beg to say that I did not
feel at liberty, without the express authority of the Churchl itself, to sign
that letter as its Clerk.
In so far as the letter stated that your proposition of May  4th, was
declined, it was official: since, as Clerk of tllhe Churchl, I declinedl thien,
and decline now, to laiy the proposals before the Church itself, holding
nmyself responsible to thle Church fobr so doing.
The remainder of tlhe letter of 18th inst. must be regarded as my individual stattemenit of what I believe to be the unanimous opinion of the officers
of the Church.                    Your obedient servant,
ThOMAS G. SIIFARMAN.
MR. THEODORE TILTON.
It will thus be seen that Mr. Shearman, ill answer to my
inquiry, characterizes his previous letter to me as partly official
and partly unofficial,-thotugh  how lhe could  origina,lly have
expected me to draw the dividing line between its two parts
without the subsequent explanation, I aln at a loss to understand.  IBut the official portion of his letter (now that it has
been pointed out to me) is sufficient to answer your query:
"When did Mr. Tilton ease to be responsible to the Plymouth
Church?" I respectfully submit that, setting aside all previous
1 61-1 
UNFAIRNESS OF THE " CHRISTIAN UNxION."    165
cavils andl technicalities concerning the Church-roll, I may be
fairly said to have ceased my responsit)ility to  Plym,utli
Church when the Clerk of that Chlurch officially informed me
that my voluntary offer to return and be tried was officially
declined.
IV. In your five essays, you were led, through ignorance of
the facts, to make several otlier erroneous and injurious statements concerning my case; but the corrections anid explaiations whichl  I have already given will of themselves correct the
others.
It now remains for me to give you some reasons why I have
been prompted, after years of reticence, to lay before you the
grave matters coutaince(  in this communication.  Nothing
could induce me  to make  my present use of the foregoing
facts, except the conviction which the events of the last year,
and particularly the last half-year, have forced upon my mind,
that Mfr. Beecher, or his legal and other agents, acting in his
interest and by his consent, have shown themselves willing to
sacrifice?my good name  for the maintenance of hiis.  I have
come slowly to tlhis judgment-,-more slowly than my persoflal
friends have done; but that I am not umistaken in it, you shall
see by:t few illustrative ist.ances:
I. I hlave already shlowni  you how the Chlrcli, at a public
meeting, on Friday eveniing, Octot)er 31st, 1873, by an official
document whlichl was pl)lblisled( the next morningl in every
]eaditig journal inII New York, gave the puhelic falsely to understand tlhat I had been cited to answer ct;1L,gcs, wliln I had
really been requested not to answevcr tlI~m —a l)iec of ecclesiastical mnisr-(prseintation which was the more gricvous to me because it was subsequently accepted by the Council as authentic,
and because it is still widely believed by the public.
II. Mr. Beechler's journal, tlhe Christian  Union, published
this official falsehood to a wide circle of readers, and took no
notice of the correction which I addressed at tlhe time in a
brief note to the Council.  Let me ask you to weighl the peculiar gravity of this omission by that journal.  My case, as presented to the Coiuncil by the two protesting Cliuches, was
based by them, not on any private or aceurnite knowledge of
facts, but solely on the published misstatements of those facts
by Plymouth Church.  I was (scribed by the two Churches
to the Council as follows:.
Specific charges of grossly un-Clhristian con(lduct are presented against
him by a brother in the Church, to which -charges he declines to answer,
etc.  
BEECHER'S INSPIRED MESSAGE.
You will remember that I promptly addressed to you a reply to the above, in which I used thie following explicit words:
Gentlemen of the Council, every man among you knows I did not decline
to answer.
You, as Moderator of tile Council, courteously gave me the
ecclesiastical reasons why my letters could not be officially laid
belore that body; but can you give me  any hlonorable reas(on
whly my defense sh)ould not have been published in the C)lristiall U7iott! If every otler Americani journal should  be destroyed, and only the files of the Chiristian U)zion should  remain, that journal's report of my case would represent me as a
culprit, first who had slandered  a clergyman;  next, who
had been summoned before the Church to answer for this calumniation; next, who had evaded this summons by resorting
to the safe shelter of non-membership; and  last, who, on account of his moral poltrooinery, had been dropped from the
roll.  Such is the record which Mr. Beecher's journal contains
of my case up to date.
III.  During thie Council, and when  there seemed  a probability that Plylnoutlh Church would receive condemnation and
be disfellowsliiped by tlhe neighboring Chlurches, M r. Beecher
inspired a messtge from  his Church to the Council, closing
with these wo(rds:
We hold that it is our right and may be our duty, to avoid the evils
incident to a public exl)lanaltion or a I)pub)lic trial, and that such an exercise
of our discretion furnishes no good ground for the interference of other
Churches, provided we neither retain withit our fellowship nor dismiss
by letter, as in regtlar standing, persons who bring open dishonor on the
Ch}-istian name.
This adroit insinuation againist me is what you, as Moderator of the Council, know to l have been the turning point in
the fortiiunes of Plymotithi Church before that tribunal.  The
Council's verdict borrows almost these identical words.  It
says: "The accused p)erson has Inot been retained int the Churcih,
nor commended to any other Church."  You, too, quote these
words,-borrowed thus doubly from the Churchi's plea and
fiom the Councill's verd(lict,-band you then logicaIlly say:
"Therefore, the abnormal method in which the charges againist
him [lme] were disposed of was overlooked."  In other words,
the Council, on readtog the above excusatory petition sent up
to it by Plymouth  Church, found in it the one and only
166 
DISHIO:YVOP 0N THIE CHRISTIAN 2A AE.
ground for retaining that Church within the Congregation fellowship; and  this one and  only  giround(l  was  because  Mr.
Becebr's final appeal to the Council represented me  as a person who had ncitller bh'en  retained in his  Churcll, nor  been
rec)mmen(le(d to any other, btit was droppled from the roll for
bringing, " dishonor on tlhe Christiall Iname."  T1his document
-constituting Plymouthl  Clhurclh's ingrelierous defense before
the C,uncil-was accepted by you ill good fatith, a,nd has since
(led youi to 1p,ilt aglist me the following cruel words:
Tle I'iymoutli Chlurclt [you say] niade it known that they were no longer
responsil)le for the dishonor whlichl lie has b)rouglit, or may bring, on the
naiiie of Chlrist.  They dropped himi from the roll of the Chlurch.  In one
word, they excommunicated hiiii-, for suchl  a dropping from the roll was
excommunication from the Church.
You could never have uttered thle preceding injurious words
against me, had not Mr. Beeclief a(nd his Church-Agents given
vou the materials for so doing by ingeniously putting before
the Cotnucil at document which you, as Moderator, interpreted
iS b)eing only ai,othler way of Plymouth Clutrch's saying that
I }had brought dishonor on the Christian name, and had thereior, been excommunicated.
Do not misunderstand me.  I will not say that, in my unsuccessful  management  of this  unihal)p)y scandal, I have.
brotught 0no " (lishonor on the Chlristini name "-tle one which,
of all othlers, I most seek to honor. Witlh infinite sorrow I
look back through the last fevw years, and see instances in
wlhichl, by the fatality of my false position, I have brouglit peeculiar "dishonor on the Christian name "-all of which I freely acknowle(dge and hope yet to repair.  But I solemnly aver
— a   11no mean sllall gzainsaty me-tlhat the reason why Plymouth Chuirch avoi(led an investigation into the scandal with
wlichl 1 was chllarged was not because 1, but another man, had
"broughi t dislhonor on the Cllristi.-,  naLme."  And yet this
otlher 1)pt rson, at clergyman, permitted his Clutrch to brand me
before the Council with an acciusttion vwhich, had I been in his
place and lie in mine, I wo,Ild have voluntarily borne for myself insteadl of castingr on another.
ll. I will Tduce ltc. further instance by a quotation from a
letter wllich I had occasion to address to Air.  Beeclier, dated
Ai.Ly 1st, 17'  4:                *
Ilenry lVard  Beecher:-SIR-M'. F. B. Carpenter mentions to me your
saying to him that, under certain conditions, involving certain disavowals
1617
0 
OFFEItR TO SEND HIM ABROAD.
by me, a sum of money would or could be raised to send me, with my
family, to Europe for a term of years.
The occasion compels me to state explicitly that, so lonfig as life and selfrespect continue to exist together i n my breast, I shall be debarred from
receiving either directly or indirectly any pecuniary or other favor at
your hands.
The reason for this feeling on my part you know so well that I will spare
you the statement of it.                      Yours truly,
THEODORE TILTON.
IV. Take another instance. You will perceive that in Mr.
Shearman's letter, given above-the letter officially declining
my offer to return to the Church to be tried,-he says, under
dlate May 18th, 1874:
Your note of the 4th inst., inclosing a letter addressed to Mr. Beecher,
Mr. Halliday, and myself, was duly received.  This letter has been read
by Mir-. Ila!liday with whose concurrence it has been submitted to the
Expmining Committee.
And yet, a month and a half after Mr. Halliday saw this letter, and a month after Mr. Shearman had  officiallv replied to
it, the B3rookly-n Union, of June 19th, contained the following
singular statenmeit by a reporter who visited Mr. Halliday:
In an extract [says the Union] from a letter written to the Chicago
Tribune, it stated that Mr Tilton had addressed a note to the "Trustees
of'lymoi.th Church." The  Tiibune's correspondent declares that Mr.
Tilton "not only expresses his willingness, but desires, to answer any
summons as a witness during the next thirty days." A Union reporter
(MIr. Tilton not being accessible) called on the Rev. Mr. lIalliday to-day,
and, upon presenting the extract to him, was assured that the person who
corresponded with the Chlicago Tribune niimst have been  misinformed.
The very fact of his stating that the letter was addressed "to the Trustees
of the Church," he said, "was an absurdity."  The Trustees only attended
to temporalities of the Church.  If Mr. Tilton had written such a letterof which, however, he had no knowledge, it would have either been addressed
to the Church, to its Pastor, or to some member or members. At the last
Friday evening meeting no such letter had been presented for consideration,
and hlie was certain none had since been received, although he must say he
had been absent in MIassachusetts about a week.  Ile added that he had
e'eason for believing that AM-. Tilton felt "a little sore about what the Rev.
Mir. Bacon had,aid of him.0 But whether he would take to writing about
it, he couldn't say."  ~
16s
0 
PACILITY GIVEN FOR INVESTIGATION.
And  yet Mr. Halliday, according to Mr. Shearman's testimony, above given, had read my letter forty days before thus
denying that he had ever seen or heard of it.
A similar statement to the above aI)peared in the Brooklyn
Ecagle at the same time (June 20th), as follows:
The Trustees of Plymouth Church deny that Theodore Tilton has addressed
a letter to them offering himself as a witness, and expressing a desire to
answer certain charges against Mr. Beecher, during the next thirty days.
They say that the whole story is false from beginning to end.
The above are recent specimens-not solitary or unique-of
the manner ill which Mr. Beeclier's agenits have  not hesitated
to use thile Brooklyn press, on numerous(.)  occasiolis, to misrel)resent and pervert my case to the community iin whichl  I resid(le,
and to the public at large.
V.  Furthermore, I regret to point you to the evidence that
Plymouth Church, or rather the attorney who now acts as its
Clelrk, is attempl)ting to make  up a false but p-)lausible record
concerningi this case, for tlhe purpose of alppealiig to it in fiuture
to my disachantage.   It was to this end that IMr. Slhealalla
ingeniously incol)orlated in his letter to me, date(d May 18tlh,
1874, the following words
WVe do not understand your letter as implying that you have any charges
to mnake, but the contrary.  If the Committee had so uiiderstood it, they
would have readily entertainied atd fully investigated thenm.
The  manifest  ol)ject of thie above  reco(rd is to  enable tle
Churchl to say, a year or five vears  hence, that, if I ever hliad
any chiaiges to mlake against Mir. 1Beeclier, the Cllircli hliad bl
ago given  mie an  abundlant  ol)l)orttlnity to iliake  tleli.   Mr.
Sliearman is still imore l)old(l iiin lis colimunlication- to tie Id(le)enc(lec,t,  dated  JLune  18th, 1874.   Ile  tIherein  says  of  tthe
Chlurell:
Its officers have in the proper way, without parade gite~t eve)ry facility
for ia~vestigation that could reasonably be desir-ed, ere)L by the most cal7p
tious critics.
The above statement by Ifr. Shearman is made in a letter
which was pult forthl by himn ostensibly iin my interest, and(
which I am alieady accused of lihaving inspired.  This leads me
to disavow the declaration whlichi I have last quoted, as insincere and at variance with the triitt.
VI.   Not to muiltiply instances needlessly, there is one other
to which my self-respect compels me to allude with p)ainful
8
169 
LET THE DOG DIE.
explicitness. In your New Haven speech, you characterized
MIr. Beecher as the most magnanimous of men, and in the context referred to me as a knave and a dog. You left the public
to infer that I had become, in some despicable way, the creature of Mir. Beecher's magnanimity.  Early in AlYril last, I
called MIr. Beechler's attention to tle offensiveness and inju.iriousness of your statement, and informed him that I should insist
on its correction, either by him or me.  In order to provide an
easy way for him to correct it, involving no humiliation to his
feelings, I addressed to you the following letter:
BROOKLYN, April'3d, 1874.
The Rev. Leonard Bacon, D. D. —My  dear Sir:-I have just been
reading the Tribune's report of your Yale speech on the Brooklyn Council,
in which occurs the following paragraph:
"Another part of my theory is, that Mr. Beecher's magnanimity is
unspeakable.  I never knew a man of larger and more generous mind.
One who was in relations to him the most intimate possible said to me.
'If I wanted to secure his highest love, I would go into a church-meeting
and accuse him of crimes.'  This is his spirit.  But I thinkl he may carry
it too far. A man whose life is a treasure to the Church Universal, to his
country, to his age, has no right to subject the faith in it to such a strain.
Some one has said that Plymouth Church's dealings with offenders is like
Dogberry's.  The comparison was apt:'If any one will not stand, let
him go and gather the guard and thank God that you are rid of such a
knave.' So of Lance, who went into the stocks and the pillory to save
his dog from execution for stealing puddings and geese. I think hlie would
have done better to let the dog die. And I think Mr. Beecher would have
done better to have let vengeance come on the heads of his slanderers."'
*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *
Setting aside the satire and mirth, if there be any criticism directed toward me in these words of sobriety and earnestness, then I beg you to do
me the following act of justice:
Please forward to Mr. Beecher the letter which I am now writing, and
ask him to inform you, on his word of honor, whether I have been his
slanderer; whether I have spoken against him falsely; whether I have
evaded my just responsibility to Plymouth Church; whether I have treated
him other than with the highest possible fairness; and whether he has not
acknowledged to me in large and ample terms, that my course towards him
in this sorrowful business has4een marked by the magnanimity which you
apparently intimate has,characterized his towards me.
If you will write to Mr. Beecher as I have indicated, I will thank you
170
-b 
BACO2N NOT BECHER'S CONFIDANT.
for a line as to the words or substance of his reply.  With great respect I
truly yours,
THoDoRE  TILTOl.
In ~tply to the above letter, you sent me the following:
NEW  1ITAVEN, April 10th, 1874.
Theodore Tilton, Esq.-D-IAR SIR:-Not being in Mr. Dceeher's confidence, I have doubted what I ought to do with your letter written a week
ago.  I was not-and am  not-willing to demand of him  that he shall
admit me to his confidence in a matter on which he chooses to be reticent.
But, as the letter seems to have been written for him quite as much as for
me, I have now sent it to him, without asking or expecting any reply.
*     *     *      *     *     *     *     *    *    *    *    *
With the best wishes for your welfare, I am yours truly,
LEONARD BACON.
It is now between two or three months since I received fiom
you the foregoing letter; and, as I have not heard that Mr.
Beecher has made a reply, either to dyou or to me, I am at last
forced'to the disagreeable necessity of borrowing a reply in his
own words, as follows:
BTOOKr,LYN, Jan. 1, 1871.
I ask Theodore Tilton's forgiveness, and humble myself before him as I
do before my God.   Ie would have been a better iiian in my circumstances
than I have been.  I can ask nothing except that lie will remember all the
other breasts that would aclhec. I will not plead for myself. I even wish
that I were dead.
~~~~                                 I.*  *  *  *  *  *    *    *    *    *    *    *cR.
II. Wv. BEECHf:R.
The above brief extract from Mr. Beecher's own testimony
will be sufficient, without adducing the remainder of the document, to show that I have just ground to resist the imputation
that I am the creature of his magnanimity.
In conclusion, the common impression that I have circulated
and promoted scandals against Mr. Beecher is not true.  I
doubt if any other man in Brooklyn, during the whole extent
of the last four years, has spoken to so few persons on this
subject as I have done.  A mere hlandfil of my intimate friends
-who lad a right to understand the case-are the only persons
to whom I have ever communicated the facts. To all other
persons I haLve been dumb,-resisftg all questions, and refusing
all explanations.
If the public have heretofore considered my silence as inex
0
1i71 
TILTON'S BOW TO BA'AON.V
plicable, let my sufficient motive be now seen in the just for bearance which I felt morally bound to show to a man who
had sent me a written and absolute apology.
But my duty to continue this forbearance ceased when the
spirit of that apology was violated to my injury by its author
or his agents. These violations have been multitudinous already, and they threaten to multiply in the future-forcing me
to protect myself against them in advance-particularly against
the cunning devices of the Clerk of the Church, who, acting
as an attorney, appears to be conducting this business against
me as if it were a case at law.
Had the fair spirit which I had a right to expect from Plymouth  Church-at least for its Pastor's sake-been shown
toward me, I would have continued to rest in silence on Mr.
Beecher's apology, and never during the remainder of my life
would I have permitted any public word of mine to allude to
the offense or the offender.
But the injurious measure which the author of this apology
has since permitted his Church  to take against me, without
protest on his part-measures leading to the misrepresentation
of my case and character by the Church to the Council, and by
the Council to the general public-involving gross injuries to
me, which have been greatly aggravated by your writings-all
these indictments, conjoining to one end, have put me before
my countrymen in the character of a base and bad maii-a
character which, I trust, is foreign to my  nature and life.
Under the accumulating weight of this odium-unjustly bestowed on me-neither patience nor charity can demand that I
keep silent.
In your capacity as ex-Moderator of the Council, and as its
chief expositor, you have labeled the theme of your animadversions, "the celebrated case of'Theodore Tiltoil."  You have
declared that "the transaction, with all its consequences, belong to history, and is in every way a legitimate subject of
public criticism."  If, therefore, your estimate of the historic
importance of the case is true (though I hope it is not), I now
finally appeal to you as its chief historian, not to repr( sent me
as playing an unmarly or dishonorable part in a case in which,
so far as I can yet see, I have failed in no duty save to myself.
Truly yours,                TjaEoDoRE TILTON.
0
172
0 
0 
~     " I,
DOCT. LEONARD BACON.
I-, 
CHAPTER VTII.
A SCATHING REVIEW OF TILTON, BEECIJER AND WOODEULL' S PER  NICIOUS DOCTRINES FROM THIE PEN OF PROFESSOR V. B. DENSLOW.
-THE " RECORD OF THESE THREE REFORNIERS THlE OUTCROP  PINGS OF UNCLEANLINESS."-TILTON'S BIOGRAPHIY OF " Th-IAT
IJNBI,USIIING APOSTLE OF PROSTITUTION" SEVEREI,Y CRITICISED.
-TILTON'S AMBITION AND IIIS MARTYRDOM.-IIIS ANALYZA~ION
OF BEECHER'S CHARlACTER.-HENRY WARD IS A VOLUPTUARY
AND VERY SELFISH.-TILTON BEING A " FREE LOVER" COULD
VERY PROPERLY ACCEPT AN APOLOGY FROM BEECIHER FOR IN  VADING HIS HOME, INSTEAD OF RESORTING TO TIlE COWHIDE OR
PISTOL.-THE INNER-LIFE OF PLYMOUTHI CHURCH.
THE  publication of Tilton's response to the Moderator, had
the effect that both he and the members of the Council
who had been so politely invited by Plymouth Church to" mind
their own business," anticipated; it called attention to the subject that Beecher's friends had labored so long to ignore and
stifle, and set not only the religious communities of New York
and Brooklyn, where Mr. Beecher was so well and universally
esteemed for his great talents, and bold and eloquent utterances,
but the whole country, canvassing the pastor's guilt or innocence. The secular and religious journals alike published it,
and commented thereon in such an unmistakable tone, that
from the Kennebec to the Pacific the universal cry came up and
was echoed and re-echoed, "Mr. Beecher must now speak!
He cannot: he dare not be silent!" eThat letter: " I humble myself before Theodore Titton,' etc., in the judgment of the entire
173
0 
DEiNSL O'S RBE V. W.
nation demanded a prompt explanation. With Plymouth
Church congregation the article in the Golden  Age created
intense alarm.  Had a sixty-four pound shell d(rop)ped(l and exploded in the midst of one of Mr. Becller's eloquent discourses
no greater consternation could hlave been created.
And when some of the ablest writers of the country placed
their opinions on paper their alarm was intensified an hundred
fold. Among the reviews of the case that attracted general
attention was the following supplied to the Northwestern Ch7ristian Advocate by Professor V. B. Denslow:
"Thoic three persons," he says, referring to Tilton, Beecher
and Woodlhull, "whose names are now associated in the crowning scandal of the age, by a coincidence more logical than
many will admit, are all, or have been, presidents of national
women's rights associations.  They have  all entertained and
advocated certain advanced notions of woumen's freedom, very
like those advanced nearly a century ago by Mary Wolstoncraft and Charles Fourier, and more recently by John Stuart
Mill.  How remarkable the outcro)ppings of uncleanness in the
record of those reformers!  Mary Wolstoneraft teaches her sex
to abhlor marriage as a form of slavery; and not until her third
illegitimate child brings upon the domicile of herself and her
paramour the indignation of a British mob does she consent to
convert her lover into a husband-not for the sake of decency,
but that she might obtaia for him the protection of the law.
Fourier in one sentence  defines lust in a manner that would
have pleased the crude devotees of Isis and Osiris, and in the
next teaches that the secret of the future progress of the race
lies in so enlatging the freedom of man aud wonman that the
fact of chastity shall disappear and the tllotught of it become
ridiculous.  A disciple of Fourier, Robert I)ale Owen, proctires,
as a member of the Indiana legislature, the passage of the
' easiest' divorce law yet enacted, except in Wisconsin.  Tilton advocates the Wisconsin law, whereby the bond of m-ariage may be severed by the mere consent of the parties who
make it.  Mrs. Woodhull scorns marriage, and procures a divorce from the husband she professes to love, in order that she
may live with two divorcd  husbands under the same roof, in
that fireer relation which Fourier advocates, calledo the harmonial or complex'marriage.  Beecher marries 1-i   wtie  we
174
-b 
NEW DEFIITIOY OF CHASTITY.'
McFarland to the dying body of her legal seducer, the man
who had ventured to address her' My darling wife' while she
was still living with her lawful husband, as if the mummery of
the marriage ceremony could cleanse their guilt.  John Stuart
Mill, the foremost apostle of woman's fi;eedom, takes to himself the wife of another, who had not beei even accused of unkindness toward her, for no other reason than that she in her
' woman's freedom' preferred a metaphysical seducer to a Christian husband.
"Doubtless there are thousands of well-meaning ladies in
the woman's rights movement who conscientiously deny that it
has any affinity with licentiousness.  It may tend, lperhaps to
correct this error when they observe the three publicly elected
exponents of the woman's rights movement cowering together
under the burden of a common shame, the legitimate result of
an erroneous conviction as to the relations of the sexes to each
other.
"Whoever has read Tilton's pamphlet life of Mrs. Woodhull,
wherein he extols that unblushing apostle of prostitution as a
woman the' spotless whiteness of whose character' was above
encomium, must have become satisfied that however silly a man
must be to write in praise of the party of one who advocates
strumpetry in the name of freedom, yet Tilton, with all his
brilliant powers, had shown himself to be just as silly. He
could only have done so, with any sincerity, by adopting a new
definition of purity.  This new definition Mrs. Woodlhull's lectures, Tilton's articles on divorce, and Beecher's example in
marrying Mrs. McFarland to the dying Richardson, all fuirnish.
It is that that woman is chaste whose relations with men never
violate the course of her free inclination, either by continuing
with one of whom she is tired, or by failing to go to one of
whom she is newly enamoured. Accepting this as the new
definition of chastity, Mr. Tilton's praise, Mr. Beecher's liberalitv and. Mrs. Woodhull's'chastity' are alike accounted for.
"ABut with these convictions, what is likely to be their practice? In all this exposure, let not Mr. Tilton for one moment
suppose that he is to be vindicated. Avenged he may be. No
more.'
'" He would never have placed it in the power of Mrs. Woodhull to so employ an equivocal and darkly-hinted scandal as
deeply to affect the reputation of Nis own wife, had not his own
relations with his revelator -been as unguarded as his life of
Mrs. Woodhull and Mrs. Woodhull's tale of scandal, combined,
175
0
t 
A SCAsTHING BREVIEW.
compel us to believe. There his drama of perdition begins.
He has so often taught that if Csesar's wife must be above sus picion, so also must Cornelia's husband, that he need feel no
surprise if the world is slow to sympathize with him when the
adventuress whom he has publicly commended to the world as
of' stainless purity' charges the wife whom he knows to be so,
with dishonor.  Again:  MIr. Tilton, as an advocate of'free dom for woman' in its most o(dious sense, has been too sincere
to feel, and too logical to express, that just indignation which
one not professedly a firee-lover would have felt upon  being
made the victim of so blastingo an infamy as this would  have
been to one who believed in the religious sanctity of marriage
as a divine ordinance.  A  conservative man  of honor  would
have p-)robably shot Beecher-certainly would have cow-hided
and expose(l him.  But SMr. Tilton, as an apostle of' free-love'
andl woman's rilghts, was logically bound to regard the so-called
'crime' as an appeal to his wife's sovereign rights over her
own person in the exercise of his pastor's sovereign rights to
believe an(l practice what Tilton taught, viz: the purity of perfect fireedom. Hence the secret written apology of Beecher,
and the long an(ld  chivalrous' silence of Tilton.'
Apart firom the weak and corrupt views entertained by all
these parties concerning the marriage relation, its divine sanction and its perpetuity, how has this scandal come about?'
Eilght years ago Theodore Tilton had the finest position
and reputation, for a young man, in this country or age. He
is an orator of first-class power, a poet of real merit, an editor
of various talent. He is handsome, socially proud, and the
husband of a lovely, petite, modest, accomplished wife.  Mrs.
Tilton is highly and most honorably connected-her father, the
reverend Judge N. B. Morse of the supreme court, conservative
on all moral and religious questions, and who was, we believe,
a brother to the eminent Sydney E. Morse and Prof. S. F. B.
Morse.  Their children are of a style of beauty at once spiritual, striking and rare. Whoever in those years had the pleasing fortune to accept the hospitality of this brilliant man and
of his beautiful wife, must have retained forever the delightful
image of that home.  All that could conduce to make home
lovely was there.  Reputation, converse with  noble  minds,
such as fame draws around the hearthstone of its fortunate
possessor, a charming companion, whose very soul kindled
each moment in pure-worship of her admired husband, children
whose smiles were like the radiance of angel's eyes when turned
176
0 
BEECHER AN EPICURE.
toward the throne of God, and the rustle of whose garments
was graceful as the silent movements of forest birds when bathing in the holy Sabbath dawn-what more could Theodore Tilton have sought or wished?
"Yet, in his profound egotism, he sought martyrdom. The
martyrs only were truly great; he would link his name with
some cause to-day odious, to-morrow glorified, and so after the
cross wear the crown-as did Garrison, Wilberforce, Howard,
and the rest.  He  advocated  miscegenation,  but  nobody
mobbed him.   He boasted in every speech of hlaving, been
mobbed in anti-slavery days. Few remembered that mob.
Now, if he could but render himself odious by attacking the
marriage relation, byr strikiing a stalwart blow for woman's
freedom, somebody, he sincerely hoped, would persecute him,
and he would be immortal.  This was his aml)ition.  And now
his martyrdom has come-all he ever souglht, and( directly, by
the means he used, but of a character far lnore logical than he
expected, the inexorable penalty due to false doctrine, the eter.
nal cross that bears no crown save one of thorns.  During
those -ears the writer, on one occasion, by a chance question,
turned the conversation ul)on Beecher, who  was then among
the daily visitors at Mr. Tilton's house.'Is Mr. Beeclier's
inward life that which it seems to those who hear him?  I have
been at a loss to conceive how one whose conscience is so sensiti-e as Mr. Beecher's seems, should boast himself to be the
happiest man living.   Deep moral sensitiveness more often
makles men sad.'
" Mr. Tilton answered, greatly to the writer's surprise:' Mr.
Beechler has a keen, intellectual discrimination on moral questions, but lie is personally an epicure, a voluptuary, tllough of
the most refined sort, who does nothing —not even his preaching and praying —fi-om a sense of duty, but only for the p)leasire it affords him.  It happens to make him happier to preach
than to race horses; but if it mad(e him happier to follow any
other form of amusement he would pursue it.  Doubtless, when
you heard him dcleclare himself the hal))ppiest man living, lie felt
so, but scores of times has hle co(me to this house as to a (len of
refige, thrown himself down on that sofa and groaned iii miserv.  You would have thougholt him the veriest wretchl alive.'
Indeed; what was the cause of his trouble?'
It is chlieflv domestic!  Hi  ife has no sympathly with his
pains.   She is a commo-pl)lace, matter-of ftct woman, who
ouoghlt to have wed a merchant-nlot' the great Beechler.' I
8*
177
a 
SPOTLESS WETENEZS
have had my own difficulties with her, but these do not eolor
my judgment.  She has even followed me to the front door and
ordered me out of her house, while Beecher stood at the top of
the stairs and said:' Theodore, whatever Mrs. Beecher says to
you, remember that I am always your devoted friend! "'
"But I am surprised that you speak of Beecher as a volup tuary.   I had thought him too unselfish and laborious for
that."
"No; Beecher has no unselfishness.  His tastes are asthet ic and cultivated, and he is a busy man because his capabilities
for joyous activity are various. He enjoys preaching, editing,
art, society, amusement, labor of certain kinds, and so on.
But he is a voluptuary; hlie does everything that he enjoys, and
only because he enjoys it. Greeley is self-sacrificing. If I
want an article for the Independent, Greeley will sacrifice his
own ease to write it; not because it is anything lie wants to
say, but because I, his friend, need his help.  Beechier never
writes on that principle.  He would promise the article, and,
if he found nothing more agreeable to do, he would write it;
not otherwise."
" But Beccher is certainly industrious."
"No! He is lazy. He accomplished a vast amount of
what from many would require work. But hle does it because
in his case it only requires the vigorous play of his versatile
powers. He prepares for his sermons on Sunday morning and
afternoon. It is not work to muse for an hour over what one
shall say for the next hour."
"But is lie not charitable and generous?"
"All in the epicurean sense.  He enjoys doing good, and
gives as giving yields him pleasure."
Mir. Tilton was then the warm and enthusiastic friend of the
great preacher whom he thus criticised.  We believe he had
never formed the acquaintance of the wierd( sister whose utterances are " inspired by Demosthenes."  He had committed but
the single error of adopting the theory that the reciprocal relations of inen and women can be adjusted on the basis of
equality and iighlit, whereas nature intended them to rest on a
basis of mutual inequality, interdependence and affection.  In
the vepy act of attempting to prove that boiling pitch is a very
clean substance, snowy white and pure, he fell into the cauldron.
If his catastrophe shall eniible any to see in time that there is
no "spotless whitener" in those who would emancipate man
or woman from that just subjection wlhich is implied in Christ
178 
SUFFOLK LETTER.
tian marriage as distinguished from Fourieristic infidelity, that
intersexual love, to be chaste, must be exclusive; that its socalled "freedom" is its desolation and ruin, his martyrdom
will not have been in vain.
Right here we will embody some correspondence which has
an important bearing upon the subject in dispute, and which
is frequently referred to in this work.  It shows the connection
of Mr. Henry C. Bowen with the case, and will perhaps, in a
measure explain the cause for that gentleman's forced silence
during the excitement attending the revelations that were subsequently made.  Mr. "Suffolk" who supplied these letters for
publication is generally supposed to be Mr. Frank Moulton,
the confidential friend of all the parties to the controversy.
The reader will note that the letter of Mr. Tilton is dated
immediately after his dismissal from Bowen's service, when
excited over the treatment he had received, while the triparte
agreement being dated more than a year after, shows that a
long time elapsed before the effort was successful in binding the
parties to secrecy. The following is the correspondence:
To THE EDITOR OF THE NEW YORK TIMES:-It is high time
that the torrent of slander against Henry Ward Beecher be
arrested. I have in my possession a copy of a disavowal of all
the charges and imputations against Mr. Beecher ever made by
hienry C. Bowen, which was executed on the 2d of April, 1872.
Without Mr. Beecher's knowledge, I have held this in my
hands from that time to this, and now, without his knowledge,
I give this document to the world and estop and convict the
principal offender against truth, public decency and the rights
of reputation.
My inducement to do this is the fact that Mr. Bowen has of
late repeatedly declared that he had never disavowed his
charges against Mr. Beecher, but that he yet insisted on their
truth.  And now the public can understand the brave silence
which the great preacher has kept under this protracted storm
of slander. He had covenanted to bury the past and to maintain peace and brotherhood. The violation of that agreement
by Henry C. Bowen unseals myMouth if it does not open the
lips of the pastor of Plymguth Church.            SUFFoLK.
NEW YORK, May 29th, 1873.
179
0 
REBELLION IN CHRISTENDOM.
BROOKLYN, Jan. lst, 1871.
Mr. HENRY C. BOWEN:-SIR-I received last summer your
sudden notices breaking my two contracts, one with the Indepencdent, the other with the Brooklyn Union. With reference
to this act of yours I will make a plain statement of facts. It
was during the early part of the rebellion, if [ recollect
aright, when you first intimated to me that Rev. IIenry Ward
Beecher had committed acts of adultery for which, if you
should expose him, he would be driven from the pulpit.  From
that time onward, your references to the subject were frequent
and always accompanied with deep seated injury to your heart.
In a letter which you addressed to me from Woodstock, June
16th, 1863, referring to this subject, you said:-"I sometimes
feel that I must break silence; that I must no longer suffer as
a dumb man and be made to bear a load of grief most iunjustly.
One word from me would make a rebellion throughout Christendeom, I had almost said, and you know it.  You hlave just
a little of the evidence from the great volume in you,' possession.  I am not pursuing a phantom, but solemnly brooding
over an awfvtl reality."
Subse(lueint to this letter and on frequent intervals from this
till now you have repeated the statement that you could at any
moment expel IIennry Ward Beecher from Brooklyn.   You
have reiterated the same thing not only to me, but to others.
Morcover, during the year just closed, your letters on the subject w(re marked with more feeling than heretofore, ald( were
not unfrequently coupled with your emphatic declaration that
Mr. Beecher ought not to be allowed to occupy a position as
Christian teacher and preacher.
On ihe 25th  of Dcc(mber, 1870, at an interview in your
house, at which Mr. Oliv(er Johnson and I were present, you
spoke freely and indignantly against Mr. Beeclher as an iunsafe
visitor iii the families of his congregation.  You allutded( by
name to a woman, now a widow, whose husband's death you
did not doubt was hastened by his knowledge that Mr. Beecher
had maintained witll her al'n improper intimacy   As if to leave
no doubt on the minds of either MAr Johnson or myself, you
informed us that Mr. Beechler had made to you a confession of
guilt, a(nd hlad with tears implored y,,ur forgiveness.  After MAr.
Johnson retired from this interview, you related to me the case
of a woman of whom you sid (as nearly as I can recollect your
words) that "M r. Beecher ook her in his arms."
*       *      **       *       *        *       *
180
a 
BO WE DISMISSES TILTON.'
During your recital of this tale you were filled with anger
toward Mr. Beecher. You said, with terrible emphasis, that
he ought not remain a week longer in his pulpit.  You immediately suggested that a demand should be made upon him to
quit his sacred office. You volunteered to bear to him such a
demand in the form of an open letter, whlichl you would present
to him with your own hand, and you pledged yourself to sutstain the demand which the letter should make-namely, "that
hlie should, for reasons which he explicitly knew, immediately
cease from his ministry at Plymouth Church, and retire from
Brooklyn." The first draft of this letter did not contain the
phrase "for reasons that he explicitly knew," and these words,
or words to this effect, were incorporated in a second, at your
motion.  You urged, furthermore, very emphatically, that the
letter should demand not only Mr. Beecher's abdication of his
pulpit, but the cessition of his writing for the  ChIristian
UnioJt, a point on which you were overruled.  This letter you
presented to Mr. Beecher at Mir. Freeland's house. Shortly
after its representation you sought, an interview with me at the
editorial office of the Brooklyn Usion,  during which, with unaccountable emotion in your manner, your face livid with rage,
you threatened with loud voice that if ever I should intorm Mr.
B,'echer of the statements which you made concerningo his
duIliltery, or should compel you to adduce the evidence on which
you agreed to sustain the demand for Mr. Beechller's withdrawal
from 13rookllyn, you would immediately deprive me of my engagement to write for the Itclepei(leiif and to edit the Br')oklyn
U?ioi), and that in case I should ever attempt to enter the
offices of those  journals you would lhave me ejected by
force.  I told you that I should inform Mr. Beecher or anybody
else, according to the dictates of my judgmentlet, uninfluenced
by.miy authority from my employers.  You then excitedly retired from my  presence.   Hardly had your violent words
ceased ringing in -my ears when I received your summary notices breaking up my contract with the Iidel,peidesit and the
Brooklyn  Union.  To the foregoing narrative of fact I have
only to add my surprise, and regret at the sudden interruption
by ytour own act of what has been on my part a faithful service
of fifteen years.
Truly yours.                THEODORE TILTON.
We  three men, earnestly dering to remove  all causes of
offence existing between ns real or fancied, and to make Christian reparation for injuries done or supposed to be done, and
0
181 
TRIPARTITE CO VENAIT.
to efface the disturbed past and provide concord, good will and
love for the future, do declare and covenant each to the other
as follows:  1. I, Henry C. Bowen, having given credit, perhaps, without
due consideration to tales and.inuendoes affecting Henry
Ward Beecher, and, being influenced by them, as was natural
to a man who receives impressions suddenly, to the extent of
repeating them (guardedly, however, and within limitations, and
not for the purpose of injuring him, but strictly in the confidence
of consultation), now feel that therein I did him wrong. Therefore, I disavow all the charges and imputations that have been attributed to me as having been by me made against Ilenry Ward
Beecher; and I declare fhlly and without reserve that I know nothing which should prevent me from extending to him my most
cordial friendship, confidence, and Christian fellowship. And I
expressly withdraw all the chargoes, imputations and inuendoes
imputed as having been made and uttered by me and set forth
in a letter written to me by Theodore Tilton on the first day
of January, 1871 (a copy of which letter is hereto annexed),
and I sincerely regret having made any imputations, charges,
or inuendoes ulnfavorable to the Christian character of Mr.
Beecher. And I covenant and promise that for all ftutLre time
I will never, by word or deed, recur to, repeat, or allude to any
or either of said charges, imputations and inuendoes.
2. And I, Theodore Tilton, do of my own free will and
friendly spirit toward Henry C. Bowen and Henry Ward
Beecher, hereby covenant and agree that I will never again repeat by word of mouth or otherwise any of theallegations or
imputations or inuendoes contained in my letter hereunto annexed, or any other injurious imputations or allegaftions suggested by or growing out of these; and that I will never a,Saii
bring up or hint at any cause of difference or ground of co iplaint hereunto existing between the said Henry C. Bowen and
myself or the said Henry Ward Beecher.
3. And I, Henry Ward Beecher, put the past forever out of
sight and out of memory. I deeply regret the causes of suspicion, jealousy and estrangement which have come between us.
It is a joy to me to have my old regard for Henry C. Bowen
and Theodore Tilton restored, and a happiness to me to resume
the old relations of love, respect and reliance to each and both
of them.  If I have said arthing injurious to the reputation of
either, or have detracted from their standing and  fame as
Christian gentlemen and members of my church, I revoke it
182
0 
WILKERSON'S STA TEMENT. 
all, and heartily covenant to repair and reinstate them to the
extent of my power.
H. C. BowEN,
THEODORE TILTON.
H. W. BEEcHER.
BROOKLYN, April 2d, 187.
While on this subject of the Tripartite covenant it is proper
to add the testimony given subsequently before the Investigating Committee by Mr. Samuel Wilkerson. The substance
of this testimony is as follows, as supplied by that gentleman
to the New York Herald:
In the last week of March, 1872, Theodore Tilton came to
my office in New York and took out of his pocket a worn press
proof of a letter which he said he purposed to publish in the
next issue of his paper, the Gcclen Age, unless Henry Ward
Beecher did him justice, and handed it to me to read. He
said that he came to me because I had an interest in its publication through my property in the Clristian Union newspaper, of which Mr. Beecher was editor, and through my partnership in the house which published his books, and because I
was the common  friend of himself and Mr. Beecher.  The
letter was as follows:
[These followed the above letter from Tilton to Bowen.AUTHOR.]
I was shocked at the mischievousness of the matter he
threatened to publish. I remonstrated with him against its
publication. A discussion ensued, on his part passionate and
noisy.  He complained, first, that Henry C. Bowen  had without cause dismissed him from the editorship of the Independent
and of the Brooklyn Union, and ruined him in fame, prospects and estate; that he had crowned this wrong by refusing
to pay him a large debt for editorial services, of which he was
in pressing need, and compelling him to bring a suit to collect
the amount. His next plaint was that Mr. Beecher had not
helped him in his trouble,-.  He said that he was lying crushed
on the sidewalk in Brooklyn under the misfortunes of losing
his positions on the two papers, and the incomes derived from
them, with the accompanying los1of the public respect and confidence-the loss, in a word, of thie entire stored-up capital for
his life career, and that Mir. Beecher, who had such power that
with his little finger he could have lifted him up and reinstated
0
183 
THEY APPEASE TILTON.
him, saw him in his agony and ruin, and passed by in silence
and indifference on the other side of the way. Rising into a
dramatic rage, and tramping my room from corner to corner,
and speaking with intense passion, he declared "I will have
revenge on him. I will pursue him into his grave."
It was clear to me that what Mr. Tilton wanted was money.
and that his purpose in coming to me was to raise money
Omitting further details of this interview he left my office
calm and happy, in the prospect of an arrangement I outlined
that should immediately give him in hand, without the delays
of a contested lawsuit, the money Mr. Bowen owed him and.
that would restore his old relations to Mr. Beecher and Mr
Bowen and procure for him restorative and flattering mention
in the editorial columns of the Indepenzdent and cause to be
inserted editorially in the Chliristiani Unioit such handsome
notice of his newspaper enterprise as should at once gratify
and profit him.   WVhat is somewhat well known as the "Tripartite Agreement" came from the negotiation initiated after
this interview. Before it was drafted, but after its terms were
settled, Mr. Bowen agreed to pay Mr. Tilton forthwith  the
amount of unpaid salary for whicli he hatd brought slit. Hle
likewise promised to publish a card in the  Ifltl()1endeizt, over
his own signature, that shlould repair as fully as it could the injury done to MIr. Tilton by dismissing hini fronl that  paper.
On the night of the 2d of April, lS 72, whenthe tripartite agt,reement was  ready for signature, Air. Tilton was in a happy
frame of mind.  In conversation he especially overflowed with
love and admiration Beecher-wards.
This tripartite agreement, which I intended to be  Un estoppel to two of the parties to it, and a concordat all around, was
in the words:
[These followed the above agreemenit, dated April 2d, 1872.
-AUTHOIt.]
This 1)al)er was readl at a meeting of four gentlemen, of
whom MIr. Tilton was one, at a house in Brooklyn.  lie was
more than satisfied with the paragraph conlcerning himiself.
He was charmed with it.  lie said he could conscientiously
and heartily subscribe his name to every word of it.  He saidl
he would sign it twelve times overif that would induce  Mr.
Bowen to sign it once; ail in his etLger,iess he took up a 1)(p
to sign.  But lie was restrained by the suggestion of a wise and
influential party to the conference that 1Vlr. Bowen might be
184 
TILTON STORMS.
less willing to sign the paper if Mr. Tilton should sign first.
It was carried away without Mr. Tilton's signature.
In a full and kind conversation between me and Mr. Tilton,
after the meeting on the night of April 2d, broke uip, he replied
to a clear cut question I put to him, that the only wrong Mr.
Beec7her had ever done him had been to address improper language to his wife, and that for that he held in his hands an ample
and sateisfactolry written apology. I repeated to him mention
of a graver injury than that made to me by a person whose
information was alleged to be derived, in part directly from
himself, in part at second hand, from a confession of his wife.
With great spirit he denied the truth of both these statements.
He called the informant at second hand a sexually morbid
monomaniac, who had imagined every word she uttered. He
scornfully said that there wais not a shadow of truth in her
story. He expressed amazement that the other person should
state that he had ever said that there was anything criminal in
Mr. Beecher's conduct, and denied in the fullest and most
energetic manner that he bad ever said so, or said anythl)ing
that could be so construed by a truthful and healthy mind.
And hlie returned to his previous declaration that Mr. Beechler's
sole offence was improper language to his wife, and repeated it
anew, and again repeatedl that the written confession and
apology he had in keeping was ample atonement for that
wrong.
The next morning, on the 3d of April, Mr. Tilton came to
my office, in the Equitable Insurance Company's building. He
was flushed and sullen. There was a hitch in the money payment. He said abruptly that he would not sign the agreement; that it would have to be altered before he would sign it.
Kindling in anger as he talked, he said that in the negotiation
Mr. Bowen had been well taken care of by Mr. Claflin and Mr.
Beeclier well taken care of by me, but he had been left out in
the cold with the money due from Bowen unpaid. I combated this fancy kindly and tried to soothe him and hold him to
the arrangement he had made, but he flew out wild and declared with the utmost passion that he would never while he
lived sign a paper that should disable him from pursuing
Henry Ward Beecher, and he demanded a copy of his paragraph in the tripartite agreement, that he might alter it. I
made a copy for him, and he satown at a table and began to
scratch and interline it; bdt he rose up and carried his work
away uncompleted.  Before he left I gathered from what ihe
185 
186  EFFICACY OF THE COVENANT DEFEATED.
said that Mr. Bowen had refused to pay the full amount of his
claim, and that his lawsuit would have to go on.
But the full amount was paid within a day or two thereafter, and the tripartite agreement was executed-not the one I
drafted, and which was accepted by all the parties, but a modification of that.  I used my last copy of this instrument in
my testimony before the committee, and I cannot show the
changes of thie original by a comparison of the two. I can
now only say that all the portions of the agreement (above set
forth in full) whihl are italicized were omitted from the
agreement finally executed.
The efficacy of the covenants I aimed at was lost and the
compact was defeated.  Tilton, in modifying his paragraph,
backed out of his disavowal of his imputations en Mr. Beeclher
and his admissions that they were untrue, and carefully secured
to himself the largest liberty to pursue the great preacher foreverwith innuendoes. My testimony before the committee
shows the changes in the tripartite agreement as originally
drawn, and which all the parties to it had heartily approved
and had promised to sign. It also shows my earnest remnionstrances against permitting these changes to be madle and my
warnings of the mischievous consequences that would inevitably follow."
0 
CHAPTER VII.
A GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF MR. BEECHER'S FIRST CHURCH, AND
REMINISCENCES OF HIM AND HIS CONGREGATION AT LAWRENCE  BURG, INDIANA, AND HIS LABORS AMONG THE COLORED PEOPLE
QO THE CINCINNATI SUBURBS.-HIS MARRIAGE TO TIlE AM BITIOUS EUNICE LEIGHTON OF HILL FARM.-MIRS. BEECHER' S
BOOK, " FROM DAWN TO DAYLIGHT,' AND THE MYSTERIOUS
MUTILATION OF THE CHURCH RECORDS.-DEPARTURE OF THE
BFECHERS FROM LAWRENCEBURG IN A BUGGY.-IIIS CAREER IN
I1D)IANAPOLIS, AND HOW ItE PLAYED THE ROLE OF JOSEPH IN
RESISTING THE ADVANCES OF TILE FAIR MRS. POTIPHARS OF HIS
CONGREGATION.-A ROMANCE OF TILTON.-HOW HE SECURED
BEECHER'S LOVE.-IN THE ROLE OF A GOVERNOR OF A STATE. HIS FIRST METING WITH BEECHER AND HIS INFLUENCEF ON HIS
AFTER LIFE.-" WALKING ON STILTS WITH HIS FACE HEAVEN WARD."-ANECDOTE OF BEECHER'S SON.
HIILE the excitement in New York was at its height and
the great dailies in every issue devoted columns to the
deeply interesting and exciting theme, the western journals
partook of the excitement, and dispatched correspondents to
the scenes of Mr. Beeclier's early administrations to gather
such incidents of his life as would add to the interest centering
around the principal figures in the unrivaled scandal. One of
these journals, the Chicago Times, as a result, gave on July
27th a highlvy entertaining letter from Lawrenceburg, Indiana,
frim which extracts are here mad:  Henry Ward Beecher preached the first sermon of his life in
this little city on the north bank of the Ohio river.
187 
BEECHER AT LA WRENCEB UER.
A hundred miles by rail, mostly over the popular I. C. and
L.,-whliat is known as the "Kankakee," Cincinnati and Chicago
Through line-under the able management of President Ingalls, brought me to this very old and very quiet little Indiana
town. It is among the oldest in this state, and was for years
the menacing rival of Cincinnati. Legendary chronicles inform us that but for the accidental death of an enterprising
man widely connected with Ohio river commerce, in all probability impetus would have been given to Lawrenceburg progress
in preference to Cincinnati, and the result mighlt have been
that Cincinnati to-day would boast her 5,000 population while
Lawrenceburg would put in her successful claim to a quarter
of a million. For a commercial metropolis the site of Lawrenceburg is far superior to that of the queen city, the latter
being a pent-up Utica under the cliffs on which the truly good
Deacon Richard Smith lives, while this village is finely situated, with a "second-bottom" plain stretclling back from the
beautiful and dreamy Ohio river like the plains of Troy fiom
the  Egean sea beneath the glories of a soft ai(nd seductive
Mysian sky.  But Cincinnati, half a century ago, got the start
of modest little Lawrenceburg, and their relative relations are
reversed forever.
Forty-five years ago, when Lawrenceburg was the chlliefest
commercial town in this commonwealth, when she boasted the
best and largest buildings, the most enterprising and richest
men, the handsomest women, the prospect of the first railway
west of the Alleganies (a charter having been granted about
that period for the " Lawrenceburg, and Indianapolis railroad,"
two miles of which were constructed before your correspondent
was born), and when her peopl)le had "made up their minds" to
lead the advance guard of western development, fourteen of
her citizens, Presbyterian in belief, organized themselves into
"the first Presbyterian Church" of Lawrenceburg.  Tlhey proceeded immediately to erect a neat and substantial brick and
stone church building, certainly one of the best edifices of that
character in any village of the west at that time. It was finished and dedicated in 1829. The course of the Ohio at this
place being soutliwardly, streets leading from it extend westwardly.  This Presbyterian church, which is now invested with
so much historic importance, in connection with Beeclier and
the scandal, stands here to-day precisely as erected, precisely
as young and handsome and luxurious Henry War(d entered
upon his eventful career in it, and is assuredly as unique and
188 
HIS FIRST CHURCH.
interesting an architectural link coupling the past and faded
generation with the present,  as thle west  can show.  On a
thoroughfare bearing the not very pleasingly suggestive name
of " Short" street, extending from the river west toward the
distant hills, two squares firom thle water's edge, stands this
cosy little old building.  It is not precisely a " wart of an
edifice on a wrinkle of a hill," but reminds you,  in its cob webbed and griimy appearance of a wrinkled and decrepit old
man, one foot in the grave, and the other going, speedily hence.
When erected, it loomed up two full, strong stories high —tlhe
first story of rough stone, laid in mortar; the second, of brick,
nicely and neatly primed(, and not by any means an utnattractive structure.  A broad 50-foot gable-end fronted on the street;
the del)tll was 60 feet; and as there was no vestibule, but an
entrance by two outside stairways leadcing directly tip to the
two front doors of ingroess, the auditorium was 50x60, or 3,000
square feet-not a backwoods lthut in any respect.  The basement was used for Sabbath school and for "sessions," while
the more stylishi and large hall above was devoted, as now, to'
the uses of the congregation in divine worship.  The exi(gencies
of city improvement lhave wroughlt no changre in the substantial old church itself, but have materially metamorphosed the
contour of the approaches, by filling up thle street and the
whole surroutndings to within five or six feet of the floor of the
second story-.  This simple fact of the old( buiilding being half
burtied firom silght, (iii spite of our rage for cremation) aII(i but
a few feet of thle moss-covered( and ra,gged( stone work of the
first storyn at the front remiaininga visible, suggests age, death,
intermenit, and fadingo forever fi'om  memory.  Yet, stepping to
one side and glancing over a short picket fence ad(lownl a l)ath
in the grass leacding to a sid(le entrance at the back of tlhe
buildingi to thle basement story, the actual and symmetrical
proportions of the aged edifice loom pl) to the vision.   My
fiiend, 3I1t. Sparks, unlocked the old(  door, and it creaked( on
its rusty hinges as hle swung it back to admit us.  I found a
plain, airy, cleanly hall, 50x60, occupied by the cushioned
pews, a MIason & Halmlin organ, a bookless new  book-case,
and a gtracefill modern reading-stand in the center of a dais,
upon which lay a handsome copy of tlhe bible.  I found tlhe
dais neatly but unpretentiously-carpeted.  The only internal
change since the cldays of Beecher was substituting this slilghtly
elevated dais for thle ol(d-faslhioned coop in the air, from which
elevated box young and handsome Henry made his ministerial
debut thirtyj-seven years ago.      ~
189 
TW~fYfF-FO UR YEA-S OLD.
The name  and fame of Henry Ward Bemher ar joit now
abroad in the ian(].  Four million readers desire to know something of the introduction of this intellectuaal comnet into the
galaxy of eccentric orbs.  Your correspondent came hele ptlurposely to investigate upon thie ground, aand'come face to face
with the ancient living witnesses.  In Mr. Beecher's famious
Friday evening lectures he has, throughout his remarkable
career in Plymouth Church, made the reading world familiar
with "that obscure little pioneer town in Indiana."  A multiplicity of domestic details have fallen from his eloquent lips
sandwiched between chunks of wisdom  and pathos.   They
sound and read like fiction, yet have been ingeniously utilized
to illustrate the sympathetic sermonizing of the great orator
of Plymoutth Church.  Given as bits of hardship and personal
experience in his own life, conquered by) holy devotion and
Christian perseverance, they carried all the force of a direct
personal appeal to his hearers, and the contrasts betweqen then
and now in his personal affairs were ever present to the mind of
the devoted admirer of Beecher.  Under the circumstances of
the attitude of fame reached by Brother Beclier and of the
great scandal hanging over him like an avenging Nemiesis, it
may prove interesting to turn to Beecher's beginning.
In 1837, Henry was twenty-four years  old, and about to
graduate from Lane theological seminary (under the direction
of his father, the eminent Lyman Beecher), and go'out into the
gospel work of the wide world. This town was regarded as a
"choice spot" of beginning by graduates of that college. Situated but an hour or two by boat from the Queen city, youthful aspirants to the pulpit could run down here, try their hand,
and go back to their dormitory or their sweetheart in a brief
time. Wiienever the pulpit of this church became vacant, all
that was necessary was to send up to the "Lane," and ask for
a "cadet."   Sometimes for six successive weeks the pulpit
would be occupied by as many different young men, either fuillfledged graduates seeking a location, or those about to graduate
and enter upon a career.  Sometimes these experimenters upon
the ears and credulity of hapless humanity proved -anything
but acceptable or agreeable.  As an illustration, the story told
of an old darkey will suflice.  When a holy fledgling d(lesiredl
to air his wings, theologically speaking, and test his fiights of
fancy, if no better opportuiiity offered he was directed to the
"missions" amongst the colored population in the oltskirts of
Cincinnati.  One old "cullud brudder" was prevailed o to go
190 
SOON BECAM  POPULAR.
and "heal de gospil" one sweltering Sabbath.  The following
Sunday the same person sought out the" old cullud man" to
accompany him again to " divine punishment," (as a Washington friend of mine always called divine worship).  "Cum go
an' heah de gospel ob Jesus to-day, Uticle Abraham!"  "No,
sahli, no sahl! nebber!" sternly answered lJncle Abraham, "dis
ni,ggah is no gwine down dar fur dem young chickens to practice darsels on meah! No, sah!"
At all events, the Presbyterian church of Lawrenceburg was
minutis a minister in 1837. A call on Lane seminary was made.
Successive Sabbaths  several young graduates came  down,
young B eecher among the rest.  He preached two or three
times; w as liked; proposed to become their regular preacher,
and finally was accepted. In a contest like that, W,here the
church   took "pick and choice" firom a dozen, it was regarded
a n    honor to win the prize-an honor conferred by the intelligent
congregation  and membership.   And young men were considered       peculiarly fortunate to walk directly into a substantial
ol d            community, and into a large and paid-for church edifice, commodious, and elegant for the age, instead of going to some
hom e           or foreign mission, to preach on the street, or in log-cabins,
or in the woods
"The groves were God's first temples."
In fact, in this precise way, the p))esent pastor of " the First
Presbyterian church "of Lawreniceburg, young and gentlemanly
Rev. Mr. Little, came here, while contemplating missionary
workl in the wilds, and among the heathen of Mexico.
Thus, thirty-seven years agto, young  Beecher came,  and
entered upon his work in the ministry.  He soon became popular, and started on his career of world-wide fame.   I spent
several hours to-day hunting, up old church booklis.  I thought
by consulting them, andcl all the records and entries made by
Henry Ward, way back there in the dim past, I might obtain ai
better impression of his two years' occupancy of this pulpit,
first as " stated supply," and secondly as the regular pastor,
than from any other source.  At least such impressions would
have the merit of  accuracy, springlcig fromn so authentic a
fountain as'record evidence.'  A diligent search, assisted by
Mr. Sparks, Jr., a former journalist (whose kindness I wish
hereby to acknowledge), discoverld the real, genuine, original,
yellow, muisty records, in tlre safe care of a leading memnber
and oflicer of the church, Dr. Vanice.  In a most agreeable way,
t
1191
0 
RECORDS MUTILATED.
the Doctor and his good lady received your correspondent; and
from a quantity of brown old record books, dusty, and cobwebbed, with the rich smell of antiquity hovering about them
like a halo, the little brown and worn first record book of this
church, five by seven inches in,surface, containing perhaps
about one hunidred and fifty pages of yellow-stained paper, was
brought forth.  It contained not only the record of the organization of the church, but covered the years of young Beeclier's
pastorate and many beyond.  I turned to 1837, in search of
the record, ill Beecher's own handwriting, of his first " session."
Ah! me!  I was doomed to disappointment.  Some vandal
hand had ruthllessly torn out the first two leaves of lhis records.
Upon a flirther examination, the surprising, andcl, to the members of the church present, unaccountable fact was revealed to
us that in addition to the leaves torn firom the first of Mr.
Bcelher's records, fifteen leaves of the last of his own records
were cut out, leaving but a meagrc three remaining(!  What
this singular mutilation signifies no one coul(l precisely' tell,
but by one of the gentlemen present (a Sabbath-slchool pupil
of Mr. Beecher's and present comilnmunicant of the church) " an
opinion as is an opinion" was uiiliesitatingly expressed.  lHe
remarked:
"There is no doubt in my mind that Mr. or MIrs. Beeclher
has sent solrne one to perform this p)ice of vandalismn and tear
out these pages, as the facts they would disclose miight possibly
be very unsavory ill contrast to such autobl)iogral)lly as Mirs.
Beecher issued in her volume entitled'IlFrom D-awn to Daylight,' and also in connection with such history as Mr. Beecher
is now so speedily malking.""
The little voluime of musty records proved interesting; and
no mutilations of all,y other part appeared.  Thle six )pages so
kindly left to l)osterity by the vicious ivandal, every word and
line in Becchler's own handwritingr, are not fieigrlltcd( with any
very alarminig inanusscript,-lnot a word about  [rs. Tilton, not a line of the rampant, cucekol(ledc, and ambrosial Thleod(lore,
-and not even a prophetic sentence of the coiniing Victoria
Clafliin Woodliull.  Yet, notwitlistandming these gravc oversighlts,
I extract a few excerpts from his entries, which I here insert:
"LAWRENC:BnURG, NOV. 19th, 1837.-Session was constituted withl prayer
by Rev. George Beeclier, no]rator.  Mr. Tlioiiias IIunt of Elizabetlitown
sat as correspond(ling  ldcr.  The following  persons were received into
communion of the churchl by letter (here follow the names of five persons
192
4b 
HIS FIRST REBELLION.
named Gage) from the Central Presbyterian Church of New York City.
* * * The session then adjourned.
IH. W. BEECHEn.
"Stated supply."
"Jan. 13th, 1838.-*  *  *  The following persons being examined and
giving satisfactory evidence of a change of heart, were admitted to the
church. * * *
"H. W. BEECHER.
"Stated supply."
"LAwRENCEBUERG,-, 1838,  * * * Joined about this time also:
* * * Mr. Thomas Guard, by examination, Alers. Eunice Beecher (by
letter)."
This last lady was his then young and dashing, and present,
wife.  This entry follows the regular record of the session, and
his name is not signed to it.
(LAWRENCFeBURG, Sept. 26tlh, 1838,-A meeting of the church having
been appointed from the pulpit the Sabbath previous, the church met and
elected Mr. Basset chairman, and Mr. Thomas Guard, secretary.  The
following resolutions were then read and unanimously adopted.
" I. W. BEECIER.
On the same page with this last entry is pasted a clipping
from a newspal)er, containing a series of half a dozen or more
resolutions.  As indicating a characteristic of Henry Ward
Beecher, permit me to quote briefly from them, under the head
of Beechel's First Revolution.
" 3. Resolved, That this church withdraws from the presbytery of Oxford, and is from this time an Independent Presbyterian church.
4. Resolved, That there has occurred no change whatever in
our doctrinal views andl forms of worship-the only change
being in dissociating ourselves from the ecclesiastical courts of
the Presbyterian clhurch.
5. Resolved, That this church approves ol the pastoral services of the Rev. H. W. Beecher, and it is their wish that he
continue their pastor."
Thlls we see that within a twelvemonth after this remarkable
youth had launched out for himself he rebelled from the presbytery and the " organized chur,l," and set up shop "on his
own hook." About that tijne hlie had added a rib to his anatomical economy, by taking unto  himself  a  Miss  Eunice
9
193
0 
lMRS. EUXICE BEECHER.
Leighton, a biighlt, ambitious, willfill, energetic, fame-loving,
gold-worshiping coutntry- girl from " Hill Farm," (her father's
abode,) in Massa('husetts.  She had been jilted by a rich Boston roue named Dalton, whom she afterward denounced as "a
self-conceite(d youngi man, utterly devoid of delicacy, and nothing doubting but that half a milliobn could buy the fairest lady
in the land."
In her autobiography, "From  Dawn  to Daylight," Mrs.
Eunice Beecher describes herself as, at that time, a very young
girl, " very beautiful" in her" fond mother's eye," and who wore
"rich auburn curls." Later through the book she contrasts
herself to the wife of George Bcecher, brother of Henry W.,
and, calling herself Mary, says:
"Mary's figure was larger, and not so graceful or dignified, and her
educational advantages had been far inferior. She was inclined to grieve
over this, fearing that she might not prove, in all things, such a wife as
her loving heart believed her husband must deserve."
(Perhaps this accounts for the trouble with Mrs. Tilton.)
3Irs. Beecher further says of herse f:
"Her hair was of dark chestnut, folded neatly around a well-shaped
head, with a low brow, blue eyes, and clear, rosy complexion."
With his young wife, in 1838, Mr. Beecher quit boarding and
went to "house-keeping " in apartments which I have inspected
to-day.  I only refer to this trivial matter because Mr. ]eecher
is so very fond of calling the attention of his millionaire and
aristocratic Plymouth Church audiences to it.  Mrs. Beecher
in her book pictures the apartments and all the surroundings
as simply)l  terrible.  The same butilding is standing to-day, and
the apartments which the Beechers occupied more than a third
of a century ago are just as they were then.  They comprise a
suite on the second floor, the full width of a large brick-housenot less than twenty-five feet front.  Furnished as she pictures
they were, after her dleft andl industrious Yankee hands had
completed the cleaning and "fixing up," I should think any
young couple who hadn't money enough to buy a cooking stove,
or even a bed (as she says they had not until she sold a cloak
her father gave her in Boston, for $30 in silver), would feel
very comfortable in them. The front (on the street) was west,
and the rear apartment, o ening on to a veranda, overlooked
the rolling Ohio river with'he lovely Kentucky hills for a background,-a scenic picture for anl artist.  The entrance to these
194 
A.N OCTOGENARIAN INTER VIEWED.
delightful apartments was by an easy flight of stairs to the
veranda.   And  while residing in these two rooms, with a
young wife to love and a young church to preach to, Henry
Ward Beecher began his clerical career.  He was selfreliant,
courageous, ambitious,-if as winning as described to me, he
was the living, breathing impersonation of poetry, passion,
grace, wit, daring, tenderness, and every other fascinating
quality.
Lawrenceburg was then a thriving and interesting little city,
with more good brick business buildings than any other town
in Indiana.  The first four-story brick block erected in the
state was then standing at the corner of the very same square
in which young Henry Ward and his Yankee wife occupied
rooms. It stands there yet, a village hostelry conducted by
old uncle'Squire Anderson.
During my brief sojourn here, I have met numerous present
members of the old Beecher church, but learned that only five
or six persons who were members under his preaching thirty
seven years ago, can now be found in this community.  Most
of the old flock have died.  I did not deem it advisable or
practicable to hunt up the old cemetery and interview the
grave-stones, though I had no doubt whatever that could many
of those sleeping beneath them who listened to and loved
Beecher young and good, see the shame which does not bring a
blush to Beecher old and hypocritical, their very bones would
scramble through the sod and gladly express to the world
thrloulgh an interview in The Times their sad indignation.  But
I foun(d the next best thing to a cemetery, and give you the
result of a talk with an octogenarian.
" I was introduced to an old gentleman who sat under the
droppings of young Beecher's wisdom, and who has resided
here and remained a member of that church to this hour.'
"' How did you like Mr. Beecher, when he was with you?' I
asked.
"'Oh, we liked him first rate, I tell ye,' was his prompt
reply.
' I suppose you regretted it, when he left you for Indianapolis?'
"' Yes, yes, we did that.  We  could never understand why
he did go, unless to please his wife.  She was vain.  He was
ambitious, I s'pose, too.' 
"'  Permit me to ask how -)ften Mr. Beecher comes back to
see his first flock? I observe that he constantly parades you,
or his life here, before his Brooklyn people.'
195 
BEECHER SELFISH AND SCHE.M'ING.
"' Oh, bless your life, he never has set foot in our town
since he got into his buggy with his wife to go to Indianapolis.
He has been to Cincinnati several times, an hour fromn here by
rail, but bless your soul he never thought of us whom he claims
to have loved with his younga love.'
' Why, sir, you astonish me!  I ejaculated.'
'And is it possible Mr. Beecher ignores  you?   Has he
never sent yout a Sunday-school library or given the old church
a check for five thousand dollars to reconstruct or modernize
it?' I inquired.'
"  No, sir, no sir,' was the prompt and petulant answer.  No,
sir, never a visit, never a book, never a dollar of aid, no more
than if he had never heard of us, than if we had never given
him a good start on his grand career, never helped him
with our means and encouragement as perhaps few communities and few churches would have done.'
'Perhaps, my good firiend, Mr. Beecher did not think he
was kindly treated here, and may be you seared his heart instead of blessing it,' I suggested.
"'How  can that be,' my  snow-white haired  old friend
exclaimed,' how can that be so, when time and again, time and
again, Mr. Beecher has said in his celebrated Friday evening
lectures, that' the happiest hours of my life were those I spent
in the little town in the West the first two years of my ministry?'
Mr. Beecher was petted here as no one has been before or
since.'
'I am greatly surprised,' I remarked.  I continued:
'Will you give me your opinion of the general feeling in
Lawrence concerning Mr, Beecher, and particularly as to his
guilt or innocence of the immoralities charged?'
"'  I think the general feeling is against him,' responded the
old gentleman,' and I am sure it is in our church, where lhe
use(l to preach whlen I wasn't quite as old as I am now. I
stl)l)ose lpeop)le are divided in opinion as to his guilt; but most
of his old( friends here think he is a man of the world, who
preaches for fame and gold, and then practices the very vices
he denounces in the pulpit.'
"IIere our interview ended, and biddcling the communicative
old( gentleman an adieu, I called upon a younger man, who
was one of Beechier's Suni(lav-schliool scholars, for many years
past a member of the ol(l lturch, and now nearly fifty years of
of age.  He gave m&, substantially, the same opinion of MIr.
Beecher that the elderly gentleman di(r; that Beecher was  a
196
4b 
HIS MINISTRY.
hypocrite; had sacrificed Christianity for' the world, the flesh,
and the devil;' loved gold and fame above all things; was all
for' Beecher, Beecher;' was selfish and scheming; and simply
preached sensational eloquence to win the world's favor and
prove a' success.'
' Was Mr. Beecher your teacher in tie Sunday school?'  I
asked.
"' No, sir, but Mrs. Beecher was,' answered my firiend.
"' I presume you were pleased with your teacher?'  I suggested.
"' I wish I could answer you in the affirmative?'
"' Of course you recollect her?'
"'Assuredly.  My impressions of her are most vivid.  Had
I loved her I suppose I should have remembered her equally
well; had I been indifierent, I mighlt have forgotten her; but I
disliked her so much that I never could forget her.'
"' Your impressions of Mrs. Beecher must have been unfortunate.  What did you think?'
"' I thought she was vain and proud.  In my boyishl reasoning, I thouglht she all the time acted as if she had come from
some superior l)art of creation down among us pitiable heathen.
I was too proud and too conscious of her faults to fall into her
way of thinking; and I was glad when she was gone.'
About the same time when the above details regarding Mr.
Beeclier's ministry were published, there appeared in the Cinciinnati Com)mercial the following relative to Mr. B's ministrations at In(lianapolis to which point he repaired after separating from his Lawrenceburg Charge. Writing from that city
the correspondent says:  "One of his first good works here was a revival, the like of
which has never recurred in the history of the place.  Young
men and maidens, old men and matrons were moved 1)y his
eloquence, throulgh the grace of God, to repentance, and for a
whiile it seemed as if the New Jerusalem had been anticipated
ill this Indiana spot of earth.  Among the matrons was one in
her first youth, and as lovely as a peri, if one can imagine  a
stray angel frown heaven's gates married to a pork packer and
the mother of twins.  Nevertheless was my heroine beautifiul,
an(d aqdded to rare personal charms was a certain bewitching
tl'rt:tftillness or helplessness of manner that was calculated to
make her a rather dangerous proelyte.  One day in a private
interview with Mr. Beechere(she told the story herself) slhe was
so moved by his holy teachings that with face glowing with
197 
A JEALOUS HUSBAYD.
emotion, her eyes suffused in tears, and her voice broken with
sobs, she threw her lovely arms around his neck and cried,' Oh,
Mir. Beechelr, save me!'
You must look to a higher power," was his brave reply, as
putting both hands from about his neck, he fell on his knees
and said: "Let us pray."
In spite of himself, however, Mr. Beecher was the occasion
of jealousy.  One gentlemian in particular was supremely jealous of his wife because the night before Mr. Beeccher preached
his farewell sermon she had not slept for crying.  Ile did not
sleep much either, and tortured by angry fcears went to church
with her in the morning, dletermined to see if the popular
preacher knew and would takle adclvantage of the hold lie had
upon the fair portion of his fold.  Instead of that, he behleld a
man with solemnii miien, like one who goes forthl to death, the
burden of whose prayer was forgoiveness of God and man for
sins and shortcominogs.  It was as if hlie craved to enter the
new and untrocdden fields of the vineyard of the Lord with clean
hands and shriv-en by the blessilng of his tried firiends.  He
seemed lifted out of himself, and the hour was a consecrated
olle to his hearers.  To none more than the self-abashed(, humble(l husband whose lover-like tenderness to his wife thenceforward was received with sweet surprise.  It is not patent that
he ever communicated his suspicions to her.  It does not take
a man long to learn that it is not always best to tell his wife
everything.
With his great, liberal, noble nature and childlike simplicity
lMr. Beecher did many things, no doubt, whichl wicked people
with a regardcl to appearances could not understand(.  It is tlis
class of people that are quick to say now, " Ile is no better
than he should be."  A more unconventional man, I suppose,
never lived, and his friends are ready to believe that some
slilght disregard of the common proprieties of life has 1)ecn
taken adcvantage of by his enemies.  For instance, a fr'ield
who was invited to breakfast with himn on one occasion found
him in a ladyn's parlor in his shlirt sleeves while she was sewing
a button on his vest.  On the other hand, there are many woilnen who are in a manner looking out for adventure, sensation,
or insult, as the case may be, and it would be easy for such a
one to misunderstand the innocent kindness of Mr. Beecher.
It should be remnemberedllat he was never more of a favorite
of women than of chlidren and men.  Those who were cllildren
when he lived here revere his memory, and there is not a lmat
198
0 
AN ILYNOCE-AT M.1N.
ron lwho.was then a maiden that can recall a mean impression
of hiii.  On thle contrary, it is borne in mind that not one of
the few womene  of his acquaintance who have since been tunder
ban., or who have dropped out of the charmed circle of society,
was a favorite of his.  It was not altogether accident whilch
preserved him from their toils.
"I.had( spent most of the day hunting lup the old members
of Mr. Ieechler's conigregation, when on the street I was hailed
by a clheery voice with,' low do you do?'
" The face of the firiend that met my view was as pleasant as
his voice, and as I stopped to shake hands I aske(ld,' What do
3you think of Mr. Beecher?'
"  I tlink( him anii innocent man,' was thle reply~
" Mi- friend being a clergyman, I further asked his reason
for tlhe faith tlhat was in him, and he said:  " I believe in Mr. Beeclier's innocence from my knowledge
of him years ago, andl it was only the other day my confidence
was sustained by hearsay.  A co-missionary laborer of mine in
India was at my house on his way from the Presbyterian General Assembly in St. Louis.  He told me that he met there a
Kentucky clergyman who is a cousin of Mrs. Tilton, and that
in conversation with him about the Beeclher-Tilton scandal,
lirs. Tilton's cousin said that she had assured him there was
not a particle of foundation for the charges Mir. Tilton had
made against Mir. Beecher that Mr. T'ilton was insanely jealous
of her, in fact, and his charges had no grounds but his morbid
imaginiation.'
"'Perhaps you'd better not put that in print,' added my
friend.'It migniht make trouble between man and  wife-Mr.
and Sirs. Tilton, you know.'
"The majority of persons interviewed in regard  to  Ir.
Beecher vwere firee to say that he could no longer afford to be
silent-tlthat silence would be taken for a confession of guilt,
-while a few were as reticent as IMr. Beecher himself-(-declarincr
their perfect confidence in his purity, and avowing( their willingness to wait his own good time for an explanation of the myster-.  Two or three persons accounted for his silence by sayingl lie was' screening somebody.'  The expression struckl me
as ])eculiar, but in the delicate task of probingr popular sentiment it will not do to appear inquisitive, and I waited )patielltly
for iiglht. 
'You see,' at length said a gentlemen,' Mr. leeclier is
evidently screenilong somnebody.   I think lie is scireening his
wife.'
199 
"FROM DA TV. TO DA YLGHT."
"I did not exactly understand how that could be, but I took
goodl care not to say so, and after a pI)ause the gentleman pro  ceedled as follows:    "Perhaps I had as good an opportunity of knowing  M1r.
Beeclier ill his domestic relations as any one in his charge, and
I never have seen such devotion as Mrs. Beechel  mallifested
toward her husband.  Never di(l a woman love her husband
better.  It was the outpouring of the purest and holiest affelc tion.  He loved her as mucl as most men love their wives after
the hey-day of the honeymoon is over; but she was oldelr than
lie, and would likely be more watchful than a young  woma1,.
lie was absorbed in his booklis, his work and his flowers.   May
it not be that as the habit of being thus absorbed grew on him
she got jealous of him?  I knew her to be good and true, but
it is not to be supposed she kept pace with him in intellectual
development or personal popularity.  Seeing 1him surrounded
by every variety of attractive women-yoling,  accomplisliqd,
and beautiful women-it would not be unreasonable to suppose
her jealousy was excited.  Some time she may hlave dropped
an inadvertent word that the scandal-mnongers have iltelrpr eted
into a grave accusation."
From other accounts Mrs. Beeclher is quite the peer of her
]lhusband.  The years that have made lhim thle least bit puffy
and inclined to corpulency, have framed her roseate complexion
in a wealth of silver hair, and her deep blue eyes are as clear
and pure as azure, while tl-here is a repose in her manner that
sets every one at ease, and is quite enchanting.
For the most part, however, the recollection of Mrs. Beecher
is not held in high esteem in Indianapolis, and in his visits
here she has never accompanied him.  The trouble is, in an
evil hour she was tempted to write a book, and( for want of a
more familiar subject indulged in a species of autobiogr,apllhy
under the title of " From Dawn to Da,yligollt," in which the
trials and vicissitudes of lher life in the West were miinutely
described.  Th-is could not well be (lone without other dra an(tis
I)erson(e than herself and family, an(l the mirror she held up to
nature was not as flattering as that in which we are wont to see
ourselves.  In the then primitive condition of society the humble beginilings of fortune and(l influence were  not  as  well
crusted over as they are now-a-days, and the blood in our veins
mnay not have been as bluets it was in the vicinity of Boston,
but the hearts were as true, the kindness as extreme, and the
appreciation as keen as could be foundLL  anywhere in the world.
200
0
-I 
THE ULCER PROBED.
In some of the comments upon the Beecher trouble I thought
I could perceive a lingeiingr pique caused by  Mrs. Beecher's
book, and I was at some trouble to hunt it up.  It could not be
found, and I was told the e(lition had been recalled.  Those
who happened to have a copy sai(-l they cared so little for 1)ossessingi it that it had been miislaid.  The generally expressed
opl)inion was that it was the most slanderous production ever
penned by a woman.  It did  violence to the good and true
friends who had stood by- her so fa-ithfilly in the tirying hours
of her pioneer life.  Mlrs. Beecher, it is said, wrote the book
so quietly, and had it published so clandestinely, that her hus)and dild not know of it until he found it on his table.  So he
told his old firiends here, speaking of it with deep regret, his
own heart beatiing with such true and fond love for the friends
in his Western home.
While the author does not desire to vary materially in this
narrative from the official proceedings, he feels that the reader
will pardon him for embodying here a letter written from
Brooklyn Ileights on July 21, 1874, to the Pittsburg Conmmercial, giving as it does so much bearing upon the case, and perh.tps a little romance as well.
On the first day of the year 1873, I gave you some particulars
of a church scandal in which the Pastor of Plymouth Church,
henry \Vard Beecher, was mentioned.   It was not a pleasant
topic on which to write or speculate. Since then, it has been
the theme of mary a p)lodding journalist, from the editor-inchlief to the Bohlemiaii scribe.   The culmnination was reached
last evelling.  Theodore Tilton, goaded to desperation, appeare(d before a committee of the leading members of Plymouth
chlurchl.  Ile was attended by  two  life-long friends, Frank
Moulton, an old school-mate, and Frank Carpenter, the gifted
artist who painted Lincoln and his Cabinet, and author of
"Six Monthls in the White Hiouse," and a man wlhom Professor
Fowler, in his work on Phrenology, gives as his highest type of
the organic quality.  Ile contrasts him with the idiot Emerson,
and says: "Ite is pre-eminently fine-grained,  pure-minded,
ethereal, sentimental, refined, high-toned, intense in emotion,
full of human nalture, most exquisitely susceptible to impressions of all kinds, most poetic iitemperament, lofty in aspiration, and endowed with wonderful intuition as to truth, what
is right, best," etc.
9*
201
6 
TILTON'S FIRST APPEARANCE.
With these two men at his side, Theodore Tilton probed the
ulcer which has been gnawing at his heartstone for the past
four years.  Surrounding the house, in a drenching rain, were
perched a legion of the members of the press. The committee
rose at one hour past  midnight., Theodore Tilton came out
with his firiends, and in response to a question from a dozen of
the rep)rters as to whether the committee would firlishl his
statement, said: "I know not whether it is ob)tainable; but I
know it is unanswerable."  The Tr-ibune of this morning says,
editorially: "The reticence as to the nature of either charges
or proof comes late.  There has been too much promptness in
seeking publicity heretofore, or there is too little now, as it is
but fair to suppose that if Tilton proved nothing, the fact would
have been flashed over two continents."  I will imagine you,
dear Comnmercial, in the city of churches, interviewing your
correspondent.
Do I know Theodore Tilton?  Well, yes, somewhat.  We
were born on the same block, within sight of Prititing-House
Square, and went to the same public school, but were never
very intimate. His boyhood was passed among books, and he
was never given to any of the rompish frivolities so natural to
youth. Mlany a time have I sat on the fence that separates our
homes and watched his wan face, from the sides of which fell
a mass of golden hair. He was never without a book, and
always in a pensive mood. Like a hot-house plant, he bloomed
at an early age.  While boys, we both drifted into journalism.
Twenty years ago no youngster on the New York press gave
fiairer promise of a brilliant career than Theodore Tilton.  Before he was out of his teens, hlie was one of tlhe most reliable and
rapid of phonographers, and while reporting lectures and political meetings for the Tribune, he attracted the notice of
Horace Greeley, to whom Tilton was always warmly attached.
Why did he not stick by the Tribune?
Well, you see, he drifted over to Brooklyn, where every young
man, to be deemed respectable, must regularly attend clhurch.
It is the open sesame to the social circle. The worldliness he
encountered on the secular press was every way repugnant to
him.  No young man was more orthodox in his religious faith
than Theodore.  Hie became one of the shining lights of Plymouth- Church; eschewed the secular papers entirely; delved
deep into theology, and leoked patronizingly down on the
acquaintances of his boyhood.  He was no Pharisee.  His egotism was his predominating characteristic, but hlie was always
202 
IIIS F4ACE TURNED tHEA VE~TVARiD.
affable and courteous. His paradise was the gilt-edged comniunitv on the Heights, and his iesthetic tastes caused him  to
avoid the rendezvous where Bohemnians most did congregate.
He was married in 1855a, by Mir. Beecher, to MAiss Elizabeth
Ricihards. who, for some time, had been one of Mr. Beecher's
flock.  Theodore closely identified himself  with  Plymouth
Church, and, when but a few years past his majority, became
the protege and coadjutor of his pastor.  They were the closest
of friends. In the year 1860 they, with Henry C. Boweln,
were the Trinity of Plymouth.  The Plymouth deacons were
really spoony over "Theo."  Some of them thought they saw in
his face a resemblance to that of our Savior, and it was not
long before he seemed t be walking on stilts, with his face
turned heavenward.  IHe and his pastor were inseparable.  As
an evidence of the friendship which existed between them, I
will relate an incident that happened.
One of the first regimnents formed in the City of Brooklyn
for the defense of the Union was the Long Island phalanx.
Among its officers was one of the sons of Beecher.   While
the army was being organlized under McClellan, young Beecher
committed some breach of discipline, and was placed under
arrest. The affair greatly alarmed and agitated his father,
who immediately counseled with Tilton as to the course he
should take to shield his son from disgrace.   Tilton asked
Beecher for his (Beecher's) pocketbook, and took from it fifty
dollars. IIe took the first train for Washington, and on reaching there, went direct to the house of Secretary of War Cameron.  Mir. Cameron was dressing preparatory to entertaining
a breakfast party of Governors of States. Tilton ascertained
this fact from the servant, and, of course, announced himself
as a Governor. He met Cameron, chlallenged his admiration,
enlivened the table, and when the guests had departed, importuned for a commission for young Beecher in the regular army.
Tilton would not be satisfied withi a promise, and after an
interview with President Lincoln, secured the desired commission.  IIis subsequent inquiries at the camp of the regiment
justified the wisdom of his course.  He returned by the next
train, handed Mir. Beicler the commission, at which hisfriernd
and patron fell on his breast and wept tears of gratitude.
Theirs was no ordinary friendsh, seemingly.  Beecher's light
reflected on Tilton, and he was lply.
Have I seen him lately?  Oh, yes; we are not much fiurthler apart than we were in boyhood.  AWe live on the same
street.
203
0 
PHE ZS BACKED TO THE W-iLL.
Is he insane?  Oh, that is only the screeching of the Eagle
from its erie under the Bridge.
What do I think about the scandal?  Very little.  I gave
up thinking about it long since.
My opinion?  That's of very little account.  Has not Mlayor
Hunter, MIr. Tracy, Mr. Shlearman, who was Fisk's attorney,
and now clerk, of Plymouthl Cl-hurchl, Joe Iloward, and that
legrion of mutual friends of AIr. Beecher and Tilton, said that it
amounted to nothing?  You must certainly know that for the
past two years it has been social ostracism for any one in this
coinmunitv to hazard one word that would dispel the mist that
has so long covered this city like a pall. To opine that Tilton
had a case was worse than sacrilege. To be seen walking with
him was to encounter the gaze of thousands of angry eyes.
Think hlie will come out all rilght? Not much; hle will bleach
a great deal, however. HIe certainly could not be blacker than
they have painted him.
By what process?  Sunshine will do it.  The mutual friend
has been his curse. Their desires for the pastoral pressure of
3Ir. Beecher was keener than tileir sympathy for Theodore,
and they have all cried, " II ush!"
The fact is, it has been quibble, quibble, from beginning
to end. The papers have bcen playing the hurrah game,
and, the worst of all, they have continued throwing their
javelins at Tilton until hlie is now backed up to the wall.
Can Tilton vindicate himself in any way?  I should think
that if he could not he had better take a header from the
ferry boat. Brooklyn may, like the ostrich, push its head into
the sand, but the cyclone will sweep on just the same.   Thunderbolts have been darting in every direction for the past four
years, doing but little or no damage, not even clearing the
atmosphere; but that bolt of Dr. Bacon's has at last struck a
vital part.  In fact, it was his lightning that did the mischief.
The iuse it fired is burning slowly, but yet is as unquenchable
as if it was trained through the lowermost confines of the
infernal regions.
No proofs? Why not take a common-sense view of this
matter? It has got to lbe done, sooner or later. What other
divine in the land could stand such a racket?  Trinity, in New
York, had its Onderdonk, and Tremont Temple, in Boston, its
Kalloch, and the Christianreligion still survives.
Warm in his defeinse? Not a bit of it. I would rather remain dumb if I could; but when you see a man battling with
11
20-1 
UNSWTER VING FATE.
a legion of foes, it makes one's blood boil to see "Tray, Blance
and Sweetheart" snapping so sharply.   Why, the impudett
stare of some of these curs hlas betn cast into the face of every
shapely and comely woman ilhat crossed the Fultol  ferry.
Whly has he maintained silence so long? Ask Frank Moulton or Frank Carpentiter. They have been his keepers. The
solution of the query should be left to the man it most concerns.  I am not his apologist.  His was a grievous fault, andi
grievously hath he answered it.  Tilton was always a railicat
alvways ready to espouse some obnoxious doctrine.  Thie
sanctity of the marriage tie is not as strong in this community and some others as it should be.  That mummery over
the death bed of Richardson was a terrible piece of sacrilege;
and ever since the mills of the Gods have been doing some
crushing  work  under  heavy pressure.   Tilton is pretty
thoroughly pulverized.  When he found these fell destroyers
had not spared his hearthstone, he became paralyzed, and then
he allowed his friends to strap his cross to his back, when they
putshed him into the abyss, on the side of which he has ever
since been clitnging.  Here this drama of perdition began.
The result? Wait for the culmination, and then rush in
among the mangled and dying, where you can hear their cries
of ainguishl and despair.
Didl he sign the covenant? No, not as originally drawn.
You see, Tilton had been deserted by Bowen and cast adrift.
They had recited to each other their grievances. Tilton ha,t
his moments of petulant decision.  The mutual friends sawv
that'Tilton must be muzzled.  So Samuel Wilkeson, the veteratn Washington correspondent of the Tribune and Timnes during the war, drew up a compact.  Tilton could not swallow it
all; so it was modified, and then they each signed it-Beeclher,
Bowen and Tilton.  This was in the early part of 1872.  Sul)sequenitly, "Suffolk" furnished it to the press.  This was the
first boiling over of the pitch.  Wilkeson is part owner of the
Clristian Union, and a partner in the Christian  publishing
house of J. B. Ford & Co.  He is a perfect LIotspur in temperament.  IHad any man desecrated his household, his hours
would have been numbered on this earth.  There would have
been no covenants or compromise, or anxiety for the Chlristi,an
Church, etc., etc.  But in this imbroglio he became the diplomat.  Hle was interested in Mr.OBeechler's reputation in more
ways than one, as is many another man.   To think of Sam
Wilkeson, with his keen perception, and knowledge of men
205 
SHEARMAN DISMA YED.
and( things, who  has probed more mountains of corruption
t!t,n tongue can tell, temporizing with this affair, is enoug,h to
make one lose all faith in the human race.
\What broulght about the last phase of this affair? Tilton endeavored to geta word in edge-ways at the Church Council,
but the Moderator would not have it.  Fate, tnnswerilg and
unalteralble fate, selected two instrumenits to carry out its decrees.  These were Thomas Shiearman, of Fisk and Gould notoriety, aind the Rev.  Dr. Bacon.  Slhearma-n  managed  Mr.
Beeclher's interests, while the Rev. Dr. Baconi, a contributor to
the I)idl)enidenft, Bowen's paper, was the unwitting tool of
Bowen, whIo, like a deer-stallker, has been crawling on  his
stomach with his eye on the sun for years.
These men in godliness resemble each other as much as Hyperioni does the Satyr. Shearman, in an interview with an editor, f the Brooklyn Union, pronounced Mrs. Tilton a spiritnalist at,d expressed his doubts of Tilton's sanity.  The editor
was a friend and former coadjutor of Tilton, while he was
chief of the Ubtion. Tilton sent for him and questioned lhim
as to the truth of the statement.  The editor stated that lie
had not exaggerated, but on  the contrary, had eliminated
much that was offensive. This he put in the form of an affidavit, and then Tilton went for Shlearman.  IHe informed him
by letter that he had done him (Tilton) and his family gross
injustice, and offered him an opportunity to retract the offensive remarks, which was to be done in the p,esence of a witness, who was none other than Tilton's Fidus Achates, the
ubiquitous Moulton.   Shearman  met Tilton  at Moulton's
lhouse, and here the retraction was made in writing.  Tilton,
whlo, tllouh notwithstanding he has  committed  the most
egregious blunders in managing this unfortunate affair, is a
natural diplomatist, thought hle would put a bee in Shearmaii's
bonnet, touched the messenger alarm, which was qutickly answered.  A  message was sent to Henry Ward Beecher.  It
was a request that lie would step over to Moulton's.  He came
and was informed that he was invited to be present  as a witness to) a retraction.  The  business concluded, Tilton picked
up the copy of the Tributne which contained Dr. Bacon's address, delivered at New Hlaven the day bef )re. Tilton turned
to Beecher and said: "Now that we are here together, I desire
to call your attelntion t* a paragraphl in which  Dr. Bacon
speaks of you as oIe of the most magnanimous of men, alnd
cliaracterizes me as a dog, who is the creature of your mag
2UG
a 
APPOI,NTMENT OF THE COMMITTEE.
n,nimity.  As you know you are the creature of my magnanimity, it is but right that Dr. Bacon should be disabused on
this point." SlhearmanI was the only one of that party of four
that was in any way dismayed.  He had from  the beginning
pushed himself to the front.  Thllis may-account for Lawyer
Shearman's desire for the bracing air of the  Berkshire mountains.  Mr. Beecher crossed his hands and remained  silent.
Tilton, seeing that there was to be no response, salid: " As you
are undecided what course to pursue, I will take the initiative,
and will forward to Dr. Bacon a letter that he can transmnit to
you for an answer.  He has been the Moderator of the Couincil, and necessarily becomes the historian of the matter.  I
cannot afford to stand on the record as a creature of your magnauimity."  The letter was written, sent to the reverened geintleman, and by him forwarded to Mr. Beecher, and, like the
Rev. Dr. Storrs' letter of condolence and sympathy, remains
to the present time unanswered.  Then followed Tilton's letter to Bacon, in which he mentioned an offense which he would
not characterize.  It is believed that it was this allegation
that caused the leaders of Plymouth Church to advise their
pastor that he could not longer maintain silence, whereupon
IMr. Beecher named his court, and asked the members to do
that which truth and justice may require, and desired that
they satisfy themselves by an impartial and thorough examination of all sources of evidence, and to communicate to the examining committee, or to the church, such action as may then
seem to them right and wise.
Why did Mrs. Tilton go before the committee?  She never
went before the committee.  It was from a lady friend she
first heard of the investigating committee. She sent for Mr.
Beecher to meet her at the house of her friend, Mrs. Ovington.
Mr. Beechler sent her word that it would not be policy for
him to see her at that stage of affairs, but in his place came
his lawyer. I do not know who that was, but if it was Shearman, and he has been the marplot in this affair, it can be
readily understood that a man who was a mattchl  for the
adventuress Mansfield in her legal tilts with Fisk, would be
equal to the pettifogging required to manage a poor wife only
too eager to screen her pastor, and save her husband and
children from disgrace.  While the lawyer was preparing her
testimony, he found her in such apliable mood that he deemed
it best that her testimony should be immediately taken.
Accordingly, he went in hot haste to the residence of one of
207
6 
INTER VIEWERS RA VENO US.
the members, where the committee was in session, and informed
them of the situation of affairs, whereupon there was an abrupt
termination of their deliberations.  The gentlemen hurried(l to
tihe lhat stand, grasped their hats and canes in confusion and in
a body quickly repaired to the residence where Mrs. Tilton
was sojourning.   There, she, unknown  to her  husband,
exonerated  her pastor  from the charges with which  her
name had been connected.  On the tenth, Tilton was sent
for by the committee. lie was not then aware that it was a
court appointed by Mr. Beecher.  His suspicions were aroused,
and it made him wary. There was legal counsel and a
stenographer. That night, when he returned to his home, he
learned for the first time, from his own wife, that it was a
church court, and that she had given them her statement.
Up to this moment Tilton had been on the defensive. He
had merely explained his reason for writing to Dr. Bacon, but
now that the gauntlet had been thrown down, he braced himself, His agonized wife saw the impending doom, and unmindful of the fact that he possessed all the proofs that would have
palliated a tragedy, she fled from thul4iouse, abandoning her
husband and children, and took refuge with Mr. Beecher's
friends.
The statement? I have not seen its contents, nor has any
one but his counsel. Hle requires no corroborative testimony,
nor the assistance of a stenographer, and had called no witnesses. There is no longer any necessity for innuendoes. iHe
expects no consideration from the New York or Brooklyn
press. He realizes the fact that the odds are terribly against
him, but says it is a day of battle and death; in fact, that lihe
stands alone, unpitied and despised for having so long borne
his cross, and now placed in a position by the refusal of others
to protect him from further calumny, when he is forced to
answer the demands, that the essential truth and the whole of
it shall be made known.  He feels keenly the bitter flings of
the Brooklyn Eagle. Interviewers have besieged his house,
(and you know how ravenous and merciless they can be in a
hunt), night and day.
Those that have spoken with him have put flabby words in
his mouth that he never uttered. They have described him
as jolly, when he was but bland. One racy interviewer,
described him as " having a merry twinkle in his eye," which
when hlie saw in print, he remarked, in an agonizing voice,
"Great Heavens! what is there now in my life to come that
20S 
WAIT A.D SEE.
will excite an expression of merriment in my eye or any feature
of my face!"
How does he stand it?  That I cannot tell.  You see that
he does; but that benign expression so natturtl to his face is
gone.  Marius amid the ruins was not more  desolate  and
alone than is Tilton to-d(ay in his cozy vine-clad cottage.  That
he is almost friendless is beyond all doubt, from the fact thtt,
of all the dear mutual friends, not one but counseled from the
beginning that he should continue to carry his burden.  The
precipice from Wh'Illic  le is now hlanging is one over which
many a man has stumbled before; but the creepers that eiitangled his feet are of his own planting.  He has fastened his
death grip to the High Priest, and intends to fall not alone.
Have I mingled in the contest?  Oh, no.  I am not an
"eminent respectable," and not a mutual friend.  I was only
a skirmisher.  I was not a match for Moulton's sophistical
diplomacy or Frank Carpenter's angelic sweetness. I have
warned tihem time and time again of the danger of trifling.  I
have crossed bayonets with the terrible ogress \Wool'lull many a
time.  When Osborne, Comsto(k, and many otl.e's, in their
honet indignation entangled her in the meshes of the law, I
begged and beseeched those who could have done so to open
her prison door. Inl her calmer moments she had shown me the
letters that she had threatened to publish. When I saw whom
she had fraternized with, and the hearts she could lacerate;
when I saw that hers was the terrible fury of jealousy, I implored that she could not have the opportunity of doing any
more mischief.  I encountered nothing but moral cowards.
Turn where I would, I met obstacles. Quibbling was then, as
it is now, the rule, not the exception, and I gatve up in despair,
and the canker continued its gnawing.  One ounce of honesty
and manliness would have averted the coming storm, but it
was not to be. If the fate that awaits those who desecrated the
saiictity of domestic peace, will make odious the theories and
sophistries of those who would emancipate husband and wife,
the lesson will not be lost.
Is no compromise possible?  About as possible as floating
up Niagara rapids on a crowbar.
What next? It's hard to tell what the week may bring
forth.  Should a crowner's quest be the last act in the drama,
it would not be surprising.  I caibnot see that Tilton has much
to live for.  He is as freakish as a woman, and has always
courted martyrdom of some kind.  Wait and see.  All the
I
209 
THE KING CAN DO NO WRONG.
clamor is but idle words. Mr. Beecher's battle is many anothler man's fight. There be editors who, while theywouldnot
add a pang to the misery of a brother journalist by any act of
theirs, will permit some mangy cur who has returned to his
vomit to do the work.
Will the statement be given to the press?  I don't know.
It will in time. Its immediate appearance depends entirely on
the action of the committee.  Yes, a seat around that committee table last evening would have been heaven to a scribe; but
there was no leak there, that I can assure you.  It was not a
court of Tilton's choosing, nor a council of churches. It was
Mr. Beecher's tribunal, composed of members of Plymouth
Church, and never was the power of a king more absolute than
is Mir. Beechler's over his congregation; and "The King can
do no wrong."
210
0
0 
CHAPTER IX.
A VISIT TO TIHE CLAFLIN SISTERS' BANKING OFFICE-A RUN  NING COMIMENTARY UPON THEODORE TILTON, WHO LOVES
SCOTCH ALE AS HE ONCE LOVED THE MODERN DEM_OSTHENES
-A   SPICY  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE WOODHIULL-HER
RELATIONS  TO  TILTON AND  BEECHER  EXPLAINED  " THEODORE WAS MY DEVOTED LOVER."
In the same letter of the gossiping correspondent who, in
the preceding chapter, describes Beecher's career.at Lawrenceburg, is given some interesting facts regarding the great actors
in this scandal, and interviews with them that certainly throws
valuable light upon the relations existing between these freelovers of Plymouth and New York. The writer says:
During 1872 I was a resident of New York city, and inextricably entangled in the swirl of national politics. Required
to be at Greeley headquarters much of the time, I formed there
the acquaintance of many persons of note and celebrity. By
the 17th of June three presidential candidates were already in
the field —Horace Greeley, General Grant, and Victoria C.
Woodhull. On a warm June afternoon, when I had elbowed
my way on the east side of crooked Nassau street from the
Tribune office to Wall street, and failed to find my friend in,
at Jay Cooke's, in siheer adventure I concluded to call on the
most notorious adventuress of our country, Victoria C. Woodhull, at her broker's office, 48 Broad street, a block south of
Wall. No. 48 was easily reached, after a brisk and dangerous
walk past the Stock Exchange ani through the throngs of bellowing bulls and roaring bears, and I tripped up three or four
steps to the "parlor" office floor and entered the door of the
211
0 
POLITICS AND SOCIAL' LIFE.
front office.  Handing Miss Tennie  C. Claflin my card, she
beamed upon me one of her witchiing smiles (the kind that
wilted po(or Challis, I presume), and lisped to Inme:
"Won't you pleathe be tieated, thir, here on the thofa bethide
me?"
Of course I would. I would'not be so ungallant as to decline to "thit" down by so beaming and buxom  a beauty as
Miss Tennie, when so cordially invited.  While I sat, Miss
Tennie was frequently called to the telegraphic stock-and-goldboard register tick-tick-tick-a-ticking away at a great rate at
the end of the apartment next the street.  During her brief
al)sence I stole a glance over the luxurious rooms of the Woodhull &  Claflin brokers.   They have time and again been
described to you-I only need mention that Col. Blood sat at
his desk in front; rich carpetry, and upholstery, and pictures
furnished the apartment, which was spacious; and some thirty
feet from the front, a high and richly carved walnut partition,
crowned with ornamented glass, separated the public from the
rear private office.  Tennie fluently inflicted me for an hour,
when I inquired for her more faLmous sister, Victoria.   " Oh,
yethl, of c,arth, you mutht the thisther, Vic.," prattled fat and
sprightly Tennie; and she bounded within the private office
with my card.  Returning, she seated herself familiarly and in
close proximity to your correspondent, and on went the chat
till a voice came from an opened slat or "port-hole" in that
glass, calling "Tennie!" She responded, and immediately
conducted me face to face with Victoria Woodhull. My first
impressions of her were agreeable. There was a bright, intelligent iface, lit up by two soft, dark-blue or changeable eyes.
Shle smiled sweetly, and greeted me in tones tender and plaintive as a flute. She was stylishly attired, and at that moment
was partaking of a dish of luscious berries, a generous quantity
of which had been sent in to the "sisters" by some anonymous
millionaire (probably old Vanderbilt), and I was pressed to
join in the refreshment while we chatted familiarly on politics,
social life, her prospects for the presidency, &c. She remarked,
in her animated way, that she would receive a million votes.
"You look incredulous!" she went on to observe, "and I do
not wonder, for it takes money to conduct a great campaign,
and of that we shall have abundant supplies.   Look here!"
she exclaimed, as she drav forth what I at first mistook for a
U. S. bond.  " Here," she continued, "here is a bond we are
issuing, and upon which we shall raise $200,000, or twice or
212
0 
BET WEEYV THE SHERRY AND CHAMPAGNE.  213
thrice that sium if needed." Then, with a fascinating smile
and a pensive and tender glance from her mellow eyes, she
softly and confidingly whispered: "The next time you call
you shall have one of these bolnds. They draw 7 per cent.
interest."  I gracefully bowed my blushing thanks, and soon
took my leave.  I did not meet her againl during the summer.
At Gleniham hotel headquarters I frequently met Theodore
Tilton. Our acquaintance sprang up informally, and progressed similarly.  Millions of our countrymen  have  seenl
Theodore, yet to gratify those of you readers who lme not, I
may observe that he is tall, well-built, and large-boned man,
with just the least perception of a stoop, and physically a success.  His face is a study-a luxury-the essence of intellect
and intelligence. It is not large below the forehead. Togetiher, they present a handsome, pleasing irresistible contour. I
do not wonder that feminine hearts swell and break beneath
his beaming countenance.  His smile is as witching as a woman's and his laugh hearty and sympathetic.  What  distinguishes him in general appearance is a wealth of blonde  hair
hanging in clustering profusion over his shoulders.  Now, he
is not far from 40 years of age, and in the prime of intellectual
and physical vigor. I do not know that I ever had a talk with
Tilton "between the sherry and champagne" a la Watterson,
but I recollect a very entertaining lunch we had together one
morning, when I was charmed with his sparkling o)nversation
between the Scotchl ale and the oysters.  Tilton is a strictly
temperate man, but not a teetotaler.  Greeley had an abiding
love for his "boy Theodore," as he often spoke of him.  When
Greeley went to Boston, July 4th, 1872, Tilton accompanied
the party. At midnight's calm and holy hour on that night,
long after Greeley was in his state-room and asleep, the press
demons proceeded to explore the nether depths of the ill-fated
Sound Steamer Metis, in search of the bar. Somewhat to our
surprise we stumbled on to Brother Tilton and another gentleman interviewing a bottle of Scotch ale for a "night-cap."
Hie is neither improved with or depressed without his occasional glass of ale.  A shadow seemed hovering over Tilton, notwithstanding his effervescing and grandly recuperative nature.
When the campaign closed disastrously (he strongly supported
Greeley), Theodore Tilton was a sorrowful man.  Other afflictions than political defeat weighej upon his heart.  There was
an impending doom. I didinot meet him again for weeks.
During the summer Mrs. Woodhull had left the city. Late
I
4 
A Xi INTER VIE W.
in the autumn she returned, and the broker firm of Woodlhull
& (Claflin opened out again  ill fuill blast.  Their appearance
among the infuriated bulls and bears of Broad street alvways
produced a sensation; but no sensation did they ever produce
equal that of the publication in WVoodhtull & Clafiin's  Weekly
of the Beecher-Tiltolti scan)dal. Sutch a feeling of general distrust of the Claflin sisters prevailed that the public did not accept the astounding revelation therein made  as the genuine
article.  How many hundred thousand copies of their Weekly
were sold before the frail sisters were enjoying the hospitality
of Ludlow street jail, I never could ascertain.  Out of curiosity, on the evening of the day before their arrest, accompanied
by a New York journalist, I crowded my way thlrough the
army of newsboys and newsdealers wishing to leaving orders
which actually blocked up Broad street for hundreds of feet,
and appeared in the presence of Victoria and Tennie at their
old quarters, No. 48 Broad street. Hundreds of dollars per
hour were flowing into their coffers.  The conspirators were
jubilant-the terrible expose had gone off like buttered hot
cakes. I was cordially pressed to call at their dwelling in
Fourth avenue, with my friend, that evening.   We  did so.
We found it a first-class, English basement, four-story private
house, well-furnishled.
The reception was cordial and generously warm.  We were
ushered into a spacious parlor, at the further end of which
long flowing lace curtains, gently drawn apart, half-disguised
and half-disclosed a magnificent mahogany bedstead-the chief
article of furniture in Tennie's perfumed boudoir.  A grand
piano occupied a place in the rear division of the parlor.   Mrs.
Woodhull, a married sister, and Tennie were the adult persons
present, while the occasion was graced by the presence of two
nieces of Mrs. WV. and her own young daughter, the nieces being fifteen and twelve respectively, and the daughter about a
dozen summers. Miss Woodhull was shy and reserved; but
the two young misses, the nieces, entered upon the programme
of receiving and entertaining us with a nonchalance as refreshing as a midsummer shower. The elder of the nieces was then
on the boards in minor parts with Daly's company at the Fifth
Avenue Theatre and she could sing ballads very attractively.
She indicated, in her playiong, singing, and recitations that
evening, some degree of histrionic talent.   During  a lull in
the general, ecstatic, jubilant joy which pervaded, and on that
occasion spontaneotusly exploded from the members of that
214 
I WVILL AT LEAST BE FRANK.
family, Mfrs. Woodhull and I happened to be alone in an  ad joilling reception room. Without preliminaries, I opened a
conversation witil her concerning the terrible expositions of
her Beecher-Tilton scandal article, at that hour convulsing the
social life of two great cities.
I give you the interview substantially is it occurred, from
notes recorded at the time:
Correspondent-MIrs. Woodhull, does our friendship entitle
me to ask you confidentially for details of a private matter?
Mrs. Woodhull-Perhaps so.  Proceed,  You know me well
enough to know that I will at least be frank.
Cor. Of course I do, madam. I have had proof positive of
that.  Well, then, what I wished  to inquire about is, How
much  truth, acttal factt, is there in the publication about
Beether and MArs. Tilton, and her husband, Theodore Tilton,
in this last issue of your Wfeekly?
Mrs. W.-iMy dear sir, it is every word of it true.  Why, I
know directly from the principal parties themselves  that the
greater share of it is actual fact. I have had peculiar and extraordinary proofs of its accuracy.  Perhaps some  of the minor details, as to dates and incidents, may be at fault, but the
full sweep of the expose, in all its enormity (from the popular
conventional stand-point), it is a bare statement of a tfract.
You see we do not allude to it to denounce it, but to show that
the sectarian or Christian world lives the principles we advocate while denouncing us for their advocacy.
Cor.-You know personally both Mr. Tilton and Mr. Beecher, of course.  I should suppose your opportunities for knowing the facts were superior.
Mrs. W.-Certainly they were.  I ought to know Mr. Tilton,
for he was my devoted lover for more than half a year, and I
admit that during that time he was my accepted lover.  A woman who could not love Theodore Tilton, especially in reciprocation of a generous, impulsive, overwhelming affection such
as he is capable of bestowing, must be indeed dead to all the
sweeter impulses of our nature. J.could not resist his inspiring fascination.
Cor.-Do I understand, my dear madam, that the fascination
was mutual and irresistible?
Mrs. W.-You will think so when I tell you that so enamored and infatuated with each  other were we that  for three
months we were hardly out of each other's sight, and that during that time he rarely left my house day or night. Pardon
215
6 
E EECH:EIP'S ESPECIAL FPRIENDSHIIP.
)ze.for the statement, but youz sincerely seek trtt7h, a,zd yout s7hall
hiav(e it first-haled    *    *    *    *    *          Thleo(lorte
wats the estraiged.fron his wqvife, an(d underyoing all the ayonlies
of the torture inflicted upoiz him by the treachery of his jfrien(l
il,-. Beecher.
Cor.-Pardon me, Dut  presume tnat it was under such circumstances and during this intimacy that Mr. Tilton unlocked
the secrets and griefs of his breast to you?
Mrs. W.-Yes, sir, we were very naturally mutually confidiing.  And it was during this time he so eloquently wrote
of me, in the little brochure of a biography from his pen.
Cor.-You speak of Mr. Tilton's sorrow over  his fricnd
Beecher's treachlery.  You  refer, I pres.me  to the alleged
seiduction of Mrs. Tiltonl by Henry Ward Beecher.
Mrs. W.-Yes, sir, as we have stated it in the Weekly, giving
the true relations existing at one time between Beecher and
Mrs. Tilton.  You observed we did not blame either.  To  do
so would be inconsistent.
Cor.-So I underst:ind that Mr. Tilton gave you an insight
into his trouble directly from his own lips?
Mris. W.-As sure as God rules the spheres he did.  He confided in me and won my entire sympathy, and I tried to solace
hiirn by pointiing out to him that our teachings in the Weekly
and our lectutres were natural and not abnormal, as shown in
his own ftimlily and that of henriy Ward Beecher.
Cor.-Did I understand you to say, Mrs. WVoodhull, that you
were personally acquainted with Mr. Beecher?
Mrs. W.-Oli, yes, sir, I know Mr. Beecher very well.
Cor.-Permit me to ask if Mr. Bceclier ever exhibited toward you his especial friendship in any uininistakeable manner.  I hlave a particular reason for making this inquiry?
Mrs. W.-Iiideed he has.  I-is private carriage could have
been seen waiting before our door every afternoon for many
months, to take us riding to Central Park.  You would, perhaps, call that soiie indication or evidenice of personal friendship.
Cor.-Yes, madam, I would most unquestionably consider it
a very p)ractical proof of regard, if in my own case.  I presume
all this occurred months ago?
Mrs. W.-Yes, months a(go-before Mr. Beecher discovered
that the Argus eyes of &he world had detected him practicing
one system and pgeaching another.  Compelled to choose, he
preferred to be open in his preaching, and, I presume, to cloak
his practices.  It pays better, you see.
216 
A SCOREB OF LETTERS.
Cor.-I will not ask you, Mrs. Woodlhull, if your intimacy
with Mr. Beecher extended beyond the carriage rides.
Mrs. W.-I leave you to your own inferences; but must not
be understood as suggesting that Mr. Beecher and Mr. Tilton
ever occupied precisely similar personal relations toward myself.  I never loved Mr. Beecher.
Cor.-Now that you have permitted (in your expose in your
WVeekly) the feline quadruped to escape from the amorous bat,
what results other than your immense sales of T/te WTeekly are
visible?
Mrs. W.-" Well, my friena, please look here, [showing me
a score or more of freshly arrived letters]. This is my mail
this evening.  Nearly every letter conveys some point of positive proof to sustain our expose. Here is a letter [reading] from
an eminent lawyer in Brooklyn.  See what he writes.  He says
that in his professional capacity he has come into possession of
much evidence not only similar to what we publish but in
direct support of it. He says scores of such cases exist in
Brooklyn and New York churches-thiat prominent lawyers
make fortunes, not by practicing law, but by suppressing scandals.  He is familiar with Plymouth churchl congregation and
a regular attendant on Beecher's preaching, and affirms that it
has become a kind of playful gossip among the outsiders who
merely look on the play, as to whichI oize of Mr. Beeclier's score
of female lovers in his flock (dames and virgins) is, at the time,
basking in his smile.
Cor.-You suggest this condition of things in your expose, I
believe?
Mirs. W.-Yes, for we are sure that it is so. I wish the parties
to this particular infraction (so-called) of the seventh commandment would dare investigate. The truth would be laid
bare and society elevated.
Cor.-Will your publication not precipitate a complete and
formal explosion of this fermenting mass of hypocrisy and
corruption?
iMrs. W.-Ah, sir, I fear not.  I know there is a covenanted
bond-a league of silence.  But we shall see how long before it
will be broken.
At that moment of our somewhat explicit interview, Tennie
carne dashing into our presence with:  "Thister Vie., have you tholej ofth here by yourthielfths for
the whole evening."
Then we returned to the parlor; and soon my friends and I
10
217 
28WENT TO CfflPPAQ UA.
put on our furs and took a stage for down town.  Twenty-four
hours thlereafter the sisters were in Ludlow street Jail.  During
their incarceration there, in company wvith my demon of the
press, I frequently looked in upon them, and marveled at these
curious characters midst their ringilng laughter and their tears.
Irs. Woodhull's calm and sympathetic eyes, her tellder and
motherly voice, and her chaste manners indicated to me that
she is, whatever else may be said, a trutlftul womian.
On a chill December day, long after the campaign was over
and poor Greeley and the wife of his bosom were laid away under the sod in Greenwood, I had occasion to comply with a
standing, written, invitation to call and see Theodore Tilton at
his cottage home, 174 Livingston street, just off Futlton avenue,
Brooklyn.  I found No. 174 to be a neat but unpretentious
wooden cottage, with an unusually wide front, two stories high,
and suggesting comfort and a good degree of elegance.  My
ring at the door-bell was answered by a female servant with a
hideous face.  In view of all that had fallen on my ear, involuntarily the wicked thought came, somehow, coupling Mrs.
Tilton's domestic diplomacy with that repulsive countenance.
Whether Theodore could find occasion to exercise equal deieusive powers as against his better half; I did not know.  Admitted to the sitting-room, adjoining the parlor and at the rear
of the hall, I found the handsome hero of the greatest scandal
of our time, slippered and gowned and lazily lounging on a sofa
before a cosy grate fire. Hlie accosted me cordially and familiarly, and smilingly pointed to a chair near him, saying:"Pardon my laziness.  I am fatigued by overwork and came
home early to lounge about in this free and easy manner.
Business soon dispatched, our conversation drifted to Greeley,
and his wife, and concomitant matters.  He gave a ludicrouis
description of lhis first acquaintance with IMrs. Greeley; how
he went to Chappaqua to fill a lecture engagement made for another; how he pleased Mrs. Greeley so well that ever after until
death she was one of his warmest friends.
As Theodore Tiltoa lay stretched on his sofa, I sat fronting
his face.  Liftilg omyeyes above his grand, poetic head, I ould
not avoid perceiving an exquisite portrait on canvas, gracing
the wall.  Again and ag(ain my eyes fell upon it.  Somnething
peculiarly charmingo, alnd fascinating, and tender hung a'bout
it.  Musingly I thloulght ti} artist was himself a most imaginative genius and consummate creator, or, if an actual instead
of fancy subject, his trush must have been inspired.  A most
218 
PORTRAIT OPF MRS. TIL TOIY. 
symmetrical head, intellect and poetry predominating; a wealth
of silken brown hair; soft and soulful eyes of richest hazel; a
face of exquisite sweetness and tenderness, and ripe with culture
and character; a mouth carved by the gods, and lips full,
warm, and suggesting robustness of modest passion; a chin indicating a gentle firmness and abundant will; a shapely neck
and graceful shoulders, and a finely developed bust-all harmony, all beauty, all the vigor and tenderness of young life and
fascination.  The witching  eyes  seemed  to brighten when
looked into; a very smile so sweet as to thrill me appeared upon
that face when I involuntarily fixed my gaze upon it. Cointemplating that portrait, so strange a feeling came over me that
I heedlessly trespassed on propriety, and before I was aware of
it I said to Mr. Tilton:
"What a charming painting you have above your head."
He turned, and looked up with a tender smile. "Why,"
said he,'that is a portrait of Mrs. Tilton.  Wait a moment, I
will call her. I desire that you shall meet her."
And Mr. Tilton briskly passed to an adjoining room, whence,
shortly thereafter, he returned, bringing on his arm the original
of the portrait on the wall.
Mrs. Tilton is of medium height, perfectly, voluptuously developed, modest, not very vivacious, with beautiful eyes, and a
soft, charming voice. She is in the prime of life, enjoys good
health (at least looked as though she did) and her manners are
most winning. My visit to Mr. Tilton's was not prolonged.
The world has learned to bear no malice toward Mark Anthony for his fall before Cleopatra. Some time it may be
equally generous with Beecher's fall before lovely Mrs. Tilton.
219
0
0 
CHAPTER X.
TILTON'S LIFE OF WOODHULL WITH CUTTING COMMENTS BY
A FRIEND OF H. W. BEECHER.-TIIE FASCINATION UNDER
WHICH TILTON WROTE IT.-THE PRIESTESS OF FREE LOVE
AND UNLIMITED AFFECTION AND THE VARYING PHASES OF
HE1R PHANTASMAGORIC CAREER FONDLY PHOTOGIRAPIIED.  HOW SHE BURST THE FETTERS OF MATRIMONY AND FLED
TO HER AFFINITY.-SMRS. WOODHULL ON THE HOUSETOP
COMMUNING WITH DEMOSTHENES.-HER REVELATIONS TO
THIIEODORE. —MRS. WOODHULL RETURNS FROM THE WVEST
TO AID IN VINDICATING THEODORE.-AN INTERESTING
INTERVIEW WITH HER.-SHE DENIES THAT MR. TILTON HELD
CRIMINAL RELATIONS TO HERt.-SHE AVERS THAT SHE FIRST
LEARNED OF THE LIAISON BETWEEN MRS. TILTON AND Mit.
BEECHER FROM THE PASTOR'S SISTER AND ELIZABETH CADY
STANTON.
0 history of this great subject of anxiety and conversa     tionI would be complete withoutt giving the reader some passages from the biography of Mrs. Woodliull, written by
Theodore Tilton at a period when it is alleged he was under
her fascinating spell.  This biography, that so shocked some
of the friends of Mr. Tilton was published as a Golden Age
Tract, and bore as a motto: "He that uttereth a slander is a
fool." Proverbs x, 18. The Brooklyn Eagle, which during
the popular clamor for an investigation, very strongly sided
with the Pastor of Plymouth Church, in republishing extracts
from Theodore's tribute to Victoria thus comments introductorilv and severely.  "Mr. Theodore Tilton, when in the first
throes of that anguish which has lately found frequent if vagtue
expression in letters and,rotests, turned to Mrs. Victoria C.
Woodhull for comfort and moral support. The virtuous current of his life ha_ been interrupted. The ascetic purity of
220
s 
j',->~~
fi;;~/~K         ~
j/j              ~>
VICTOR,IA  C. NIOODIIT'],[.
I A
i
I  
HOW LIKE A SPIDER.
his soul had been disturbed, and for the first time in his
life he found himself face to face with moral enormities of
the existence of which he had scarcely been aware. He says,
just at present, that his home has been shaken to its modest
toul(ndations by the act or word of Henry  Ward Beecher.  Of
tile dimitnsioiis and of the significance ot that act or word Mr.
Tilton has vouchsafed, so fitr, to say nothing exact or precise.
We are forced to believe that the shock was so desperate, so
tremendous, that in his agonized recoil from its contemplation,
he fell into the siren's clutch of Mrs. Woodhull.  How grimly
that arch priestess of Priapus held on to Tilton's streaming
coat tails, he has himself testified as few men of moderate common sense would like to bear witness. "The wife of his
bosom had been insulted," The sanctuary of his home had
been invaded by "an improper proposal."  His belief in the
flowery code of ethics which he himself received one hundred
do,)llars a night for rehearsing about the country, had been
shaken.   Wtilat so natural, because so paradoxical, as the
recourse of his original resentment to the oracle of Broad
Street-t,) the womL.a whose Satanic embassy was precisely
th   description and  extraction of  those  very social and(
m.trital relations, the menacing of whose stability in Tilton's
own case by Beecher, was the mainspring and private cause of
Tilton's despair?  The  proposition is simple enough in all
conscience.  Tilton loved his wife, and cherished his domestic
purity with an enthusiasm almost frantic.   Beecher's inconsiderate act revealed to him possibilities of injury and destruction to that domestic religion, which his own crystal integrity
had never suspected.  Naturally, in his tearful perplexity, he
hied to the sorceress who trafficked in lusts and adulteries, and
who, from a negative sort of personal experience, knew more
-and less-about the inviolability of marriage than any other
cotn:el,r to whom he c )uld ap})ly.  Mrs. Wo:-)dhllull had be(en
fisiin:4, for souls for some time in Broad Street.   She  had
landed half a dozen meagre spirits of the stockbroker set, but
these had slipped out of her hands, and left no good behind.
When Tilton blundered into the meshes of her net, we canli
conceive howv, like a spider, she clasped the bleating victim to
her ruthless breast.  Here, at all events, was a good catch,
plump and succulent because full of vanity and a rich store E)f
maudlin sentimentality.  Therefore she made up her mind
that this, her latest gudgeon, should distil a nourishment of
which, just at this crisis, she stood in sore need.   The Tiltonian
221
0 
POL YANDRO US.NYjFP.
chastity which had shrunk in horror from confronting the
spectral possibilities evoked by Mr. Beecher's alleged proposal
to Mrs. Tilton, was dazzled and blinded by the moral effulgence
of Mrs. WVoodhull. Hovering on the edge of her fascination,
at first, Tilton was finally engul~ed, and three months of the
time he devoted to purging his sensitive honor, were spent in
the closest and nearest intimacy with the polyandrous inymph
of Broad Street. In brief, if the word of that notorious drab
be worth the credit which Tilton, himself, over his own signature, attaches to it, Tilton conceived the project of re-consecrating his home and re-establishing its purity, in the adulterous
arms of his mistress!  In exclhange for the sympathy and the
comfort of that woman, he devoted his remarkable genius to
the creation of a monument for her. At her feet he laid a
votive biography, penned at intervals during the preparation
of his remedy for the wrongs which Mr. Beecher, as lie complains, had perpetrated upon his honor.  That biography was
regarded at the time of its original publication with only the
moderate interest which attaches itself to the irrational and
inexplicable freak of some madman.   But in view of the lilght
it throws both onI Tilto's mnentalcondition and iii his painfully
acute moral sensibility, the Eagle devotes some space to that
wonderful literary work."
Tilton opens his remarkable biography thus:  "I shall swiftly sketch the life of Victoria Claflin Woodhull; a
young woman whose career has been as singular as any heroine's
in a romance; whose ability is of a rare aiid whose character
of the rarest type; whose personal sufferings are of themselves
a whole drama of pathos; whose name (through the malice
of some and the ignorance of others) has caught a shadow in
strange contrast with the whiteness of her life; whose position
as a representative of her sex in the greatest reform of modern
times reniders her an object of peculiar interest to her fellow
citizens; and whose character (inasmuch as I know her well) I
can portray without color or tinge from any other partiality
save that I hold her in uncommon respect.
"In Ilnomer, Ohio, in a small cottage, white painted and ]highl
peaked, wvithl a porch running around it and a flowver garden iii
front, this daughter, the seventh of ten children of Roxana
and Buckman Claflin, was born September 23d, 1838.  As this
was the year whel  Queen 4ictoria was crowned, the new b)ornIL
babe, though clad neither in purple nor fine linen, but comfortably swvaddled in respectable poverty,  was immediately
222
0 
JVOODHULL'S BIOGRAPHY.'
christened (lthlouLgh without clrism), as the Queen's namesake;
her parents littl dreamintg that their daughlter would one day
aspire to a higher seat than the English throne.  The Queen
with that early matronly predilection which her subsequent
life did so mutch to illustrate, foresaw that many glad mothers
who were to bring babes into the worI' dulring thatt coronation
year, would name tltiic after the chief lady of the earth; and
accordingly she ordained a gift to all her little namesakes of
Anno Domino 1838.  As Victoria Claflin was one of these, she
hais lately been urged to make a trip to Windsor Castle, to see
the illustrious giver of these gifts, and to receive the special
souvenir which the QLeen's bounty is supposed to hold still in
store for the Ohio babe that uLttered its first cry as if to say,
" Long live tihe QuLeen! "  MArs. Woodhull, who is now a candidate for the Pres.idency of the United States, should defer this
visit till after her election, when she will have a beautiful
opportunity to invite her elder sister in sovereignty-the
mother of our mother country-to visit her fairest daughter,
the Republic of the West.
[The elasticity of a mind which condescends from schemes
of moral crucifixion to state that "Victoria Claflin has lately
been urged to make a trip to Windsor Castle to see the illustrious giver of these gifts," and come back with a present from
the Queen, reminds one of the elephant's trunk, capable both
of tearing up a tree or picking a pocket.  We are rather at a
loss to comprehend how the babe of such promise was christened "without chrism." The performance of such a feat
must have been something remarkable, or Mr. Tilton would
surely never have embalmed mention of the fact in a parenthesis.  "Her eldest sister in sovereignty" is a very picturesque
sentence. Its only fault is that, on being analyzed, it doesn't
yield much meaning as a result.  It looks very much as if that
and the succeeding phrases were gauzy and prismatic, if very
unsubstantial, devices of the Tiltonian genius, to fill out a
paragraph.  But let us proceed.]-Eayle Critic.
"It is pitiful to be a child without a childhood.  Such was
she. Not a sunbeam gil(led the morning of her life. her
girlish career was a continuouS bitterness-an unbroken heart
break.  She was worked like a slave-whlipped like a convict.
11er father was impartial in his cruelty to all his children;
223
0 
CHILD WITHOUT A CHILDHOOD.
her mother, with a fickleness of spirit that renders her one of
the most erratic of mortals, sometimes abetted him in his
scourgings; and at other times shielded the little ones from
his blows, In a barrel of rain water he kept a number of
braided green withes made of willow or walnut twigs, and with
these stinging weapons, never with any ordinary whip,  he
would cut tile quivering flesh of the children till their tears
and blood melted him into mercy.  Sometimes he took a handsaw or a stick of firewood as the instrument of his savoagery.
Coming home after the children were in bed, on learning of
some offense which they had committed, he has been known
to waken them out of sleep, and whip them until mnorning.
In consequence of these brutalities one of the sons, in his
thirteenth year, burst away from home, went to sea, and still
bears a shattered constitution the damning memorial of his
father's wrath.  "I have no remembrance of a lather's kiss,"
says Victoria.  Her mother has on occasions tormented and
harried her children until they would be thrown into spasms,
whereat she would hysterically laugh, clap her hands,  and
look as fiercely delighted as a cat in playing with a mouse.
At other times, her tenderness towards her offspring would
appear almost angelic. She would fondle them, weep over
them, lift her arms and thank God for such children, caress
them with ecstatic joy, and then smite them as if seeking to
destroy at a blow both body and soul. This eccentric old lady,
compounded in equal parts of heaven and hell, will pray till
her eyes are full of tears, and in the same hour curse till her
lips are white with foam. The father exhibits a more tranquil
bitterness, with fewer spasms. These parental peculiarities
were lately made witnesses against their possessors in a court
of justice."
[It is hard to explain Mr. Tilton's evidently accurate
acquaintance with the castigatory apparatus of the Claflin family.  "The barrel of rain water" in which Claflin pere, kept his
"braided green withes made of willowv or walnut twigs," is so
vivictly projected on our retina, that a sharp and sympathetic
spasm responds, in divers portions of our anatomy, to the lurid
description.  "A handsaw or a stick of firewood" were occasionally substituted for " tl] braided green withes."  No wonder that with the alternation of such regulative implements in
la famille Claflin, one of the sons "burst away from home."
224
0 
HER PARENTS.
The only marvel is that the rest of the children didn't indulge
in a like domestic explosion. "I have no remembrance of a
father's kiss," says Victoria, to whom the fates afterward seemed
to have allowed huge osculatory compensation.  The portrait
of old MIrs. Claflin "hysterically laughing," clapping her hands
and looking as fiercely as a "cat playing with a mouse," is the
work of a master hand. Nobody other than Tilton could
have done so much with so little. Nor could anybody else
have described the vigorous spanking powers of the old lady
so neatly and so graphically.-EctEagle Critic.]
If I must account for what seems unaccountable, I may say
that with these parents, these traits are not only constitutional
but have been further developed by circumstances. Thile mother, who has never in her lite learned to read, was during her
maidenhood the petted heiress of one of the richest German
families of Pennsylvania, and was brought up not to serve but
to be served, until in her ignorance and vanity she fancied all
things her own, and all people her ministers. The father,
partly bred to the law and partly to real estate speculations,
early in life acquired affluence, but during Victoria's third
year suddenly lost all that he had gained, and sat down like a
beggar in the dust of despair.
The mother, from her youth, had been a monomaniac,  a
spiritualist before the name of spiritualism was coined, and
belore the Rochester knockings had noised themselves into the
public ear.  She saw visiotis and dreamed dreams.  During
the half year preceding Victoria's birth, the mother becane
powerfully excited by a religious revival, and went through tlhe
process known as "sanctification."  She would rise in prayer
meetings and pour fourth passionate hallelujahs that sometimes electrified the worshippers. The father, colder in temperament, yet equally inclined to the supernatural, was her
partner in these excitements. When the stroke of poverty
j'elled them to the earth, these exultations were quenched ill
grief. The father, in the opinion of some, became partially
craz:ed; he would take long and rapid walks, sometimes of
twenty miles, and come home with bleeding feet and haggard
face.  The mother, never whollysane, would huddle her children together as a hen her chickens, and wringing her hands
above them, would pray by'the hour that God would protect
her little brood.  Intense melancholy-a misanthropic gloom
10*
225 
A BAD CROWD.
thick as a sea fog-seized jointly upon both their minds, and
at intervals ever since has blighted them with its mildew. It
is said that a fountain cannot send forthi at the same time
sweet waters and bitter, and yet affection and enmity will proceed from this couple almost at the same moment.  At times
they are full of craftiness, low cunning, and malevolence; at
other times they beam with sunshine, sweetness and sincerity.
I have seen many strange people, but the straongest of all are
the two parents whose commingled essence constitutes the
spiritual principle of the heroine of this tatle.
Just here, if any one asks, "How is it that such parents
should not have reproduced their eccentricities in their clildren?" I answer, "This is exactly what they have done."
The whole brood are of the same fe;tth(r, except Victoria and
Tennie.  What language shall describe them?  Such another
family circle of cats anti kits, with soft fur and sharp claws,
purring at one moment and fighting the next, never before filled one house with their clamors since Babel began.  They
love and hate-they do good and evil-tihey bless and smite
each other.  They  are a sisterhood of furies, tempered with
love's melancholy.  Here and there one will drop on her knees
and invoke God's vengeance on the rest.  But for years there
has been one common sentiment sweetly pervading the breasts
of a majority toward a minority of the offspring —namely, a
determination that Victoria and Tennie should earn all the
money for the support of the numerous remainder of the Claflin tribe-wives, husbands, children, servants, and all. Being
daughters of the lho:seleech, they cry "give."  It is the common lLaw of the Claflin clan that the idle many shall eat up the
substance of the thlrifty few. Victoria is a green leaf, and her
legion of relatives are caterpillars who devour her. Their sin
is that they return no thanks after meat; they curse the hand
that feeds them. They are what my friend Mr. Greeley calls
"a bad crowd."  I am  a little rough in saying this, I admit;
but I have a rude prejudice in favor of the plain truth."
[If the elder Claflin had been father-in-law and mother-inlaw to their daughter's biographer, we could understand, without much difficulty, the painful minuteness of description
which he lavished upon their characteristics. But we respectfully submit that his cafeatures of the old lady and gentleman are really outrageous.  What would be excusable, on the
0
2 -"O' 
LINE "JOAN OF ARC."
ground of precedent, in the case of one of their daughlter's
numerous husbands, is unwarrantable in that of a mere stranger and devotee at the Woodhull shlrine.  We are forced to believe that "the whole brood" didn't extend to Mr. Tilton that
hearty welcome whicli he received at the hands of "Victoria
and Tennie."  They must have treated the eminent historiani
as an interloper, or he never would have drawn  upon il r.
Greeley's vocabulary to call them "a bad crowd."   What
charming simp'icity in his assertion that he "has a rude prejudice in favor of the plain truth? "-Eagyle Critic.
Victoria's schlooldays comprised, all told, less than three
years-stretching with broken intervals between her eiglhthl and
eleventh.  The  aptest learner of her class, she was the pet
alike of scholars and teacher.  Called "The  Little  Queen"
(liot only from her name but her demeanor) she bore herself
with mimic royalty, like one born to command.   Fresh  and
beautiful, her countenance being famed throughout the neiglborhood for its striking spirituality, modest, yet energetic, and
restive from the overfullness of an inward energy such as
quickened the young blood of Joan of Arc, she was a child of
genius, toil and grief.  The little old head on the little young
shoulders was often bent over her schoolbook at the midnight
hour.  Outside of the schoolroom she was a household drudge,
serving others so long as they were awake, and serving herself
only when they slept. Hiad she been born black or been
chained to a cart wheel in Alabama, she could not have been a
more enslaved slave.  During thise school years, child as she
was, she was the many burdened maid of all work in the laLrge
family of a married sister; she made fires, washed and ironed,
she baked bread, she cut wood, she spaded a vegetable garden,
she went on errands, she tended infants, she did everything.
"Victoria! Victoria!" was the call in the morning before the
cock crowing; when, bouncing out of bed, the "little steamn
elt,gine," as sthe was styled, began her buzzing activities for the
day,  Light and  fleet of step, she ran like a deer.  She was
everyvbody's favorite-loved, petted, and by some marveled at
as a semi-supernatural being. * * * * *
["To comment on the above Paragraph, would be to shower
hot sand on a garden bed of flowers. So it shall gleam, unset,
save only with a mere invitation to the reader to consider more
0
227 
SHE CONSULTS HER ORA6LES.
than once the religious accuracy which tells how Victoria
"made fires, washed and ironed, baked bread, spaded a vegetab'e garden, went on erraniids, did everything." Cinderella and
the Prince over agtain-only this time, a pamphlet biography
instead of a glass shoe.]-Eaflye Critic."
She acquired her studies, performed her work, and lived her
life by the help (as she believes) of heavenly spirits.  Fiom
her chlildhood till now (having reached her thirty-thlird year)
her anticipation of the other world has been more vivid than
her realization of this.  She has entertained angels, and not
unawares.  These gracious guests have been her constant compimtions.  They abide with her night and day.  They dictate
her life with daily revelation; and like St. Paul, she is "not
disobedient to the heavenly vision." She goes and comes at
their behest.   *   *   *   *   *   *   Her writings  and
speeches are the products, not only of their indwelling in her
soul, but of their absolute control of her brain and tongue.
Like a good Greek of the olden time, she does nothing without consulting her oracles. Never, as she avers, have they deceived her, nor ever will she neglect their decrees. * * *
*   *   Seldom a day goes by but she enters into this fairy
land, or rather into this spirit-realm.  In pleasant weather she
has a habit of sitting on the roof of her stately mansion on
Autrray Hill, and there commnning  hour by hour with the
spirits. She is a religious devotee-her simple theology being
an absorbing faith in God and the angels.
Moreover, I may as well mention here as later, that every
claracteristic uttera   nce which she gives to the world is dictat    ed while under spirit influenlce, and most often in a totally
unconsci            ous state.  The words that fall from her lips are garne    red by the swift pen   of 1(e,r husband, and published almost
verbatim           as s      he gets and   gives them.  To take an illustration,
after her rece       nt n omination to the Presidency by "The Victoria League," sh     e      sent to that committee a letter of superior
dign      ity and            moral wei ght.  It was a composition which she
h    ad         dictated     while so outwardly oblivious to the dictation, that
when she ended and awNoke, shle had no memory at all ot'f what
s        he had  just done. The product of that strange and weird
mood was a beautiful piece of English, not unworthy of
Macaulay; and to prove what I say, I adduce the following eloqu         enit  passage, w hich (I repeat) was published without change
a      s it fell  fro       m he r   unconscious lips:
228 
VIC TORIA SECOXND.
"I oughlt not to pass unnoticed," she says "your courteous
and graceful allusion to what you deem  the favoring omen of
my name.   It is true tlhat a Victoria rules the great rival natioii o'pposite to us on the otlier shore of the Atlantic, and it
milght grace the amity just sealed between  the two nations,
and be a new security of peace, if a twin sisterhood of Victorias were to preside over the two nLttions.  It is true, also, that
inI its mere etymology the name signifies Victory! and the victory for the righlt is what we are bent on securing.  It is agaiu
true, also, that to some minds there is a consonant harmoiny
between the idea and the word, so that its euphonious  utterauce seems to their imaginations to be itself a genius of success.  However this may be I have sometimes  imaginied tlLhat
there is p,rliap)s somethingi providential and prophetic in the
fact that my parents were prompted  to confer on me at name
which forbids the ver-y tholuglht of failure; and, as the gr(.lt
Napoleon believed the star of his destiny, you will at least excutse me, and charge it to the credulity of the woman, if I bclieve also in fatality of triumph as somehow iinherilng in  my
name."
In quoting this passage, I wish to add that its author is a
person of no special literary training; indeed, so averse to the
)pen that, of her own will, she rarely dips it into ink, except to
sign her business autograph; nor would she ever write at all
except for thlse spirit-promiptings which she dare not disobey;
and shle could not possibly have produced the above peroratioil
excel)t by some strange intellectual quickeniing-some  overbrooding, moral help.  This (as she says) she derives from the
spiuit world.   One of her text is, "I will lift up mine eyes unto thle hills fromn whence cometh my hlelp-my help  comethl
from the Lord who made Heaven and Earth." She reminds
me of the old engraving of St. Gregory dictating his homilies
under the outspread wing of the Holy Dove.
It has been so from  her childhood.  So that her  schlool
studies were, literally, a daily miracle.  She would glance at a
paoge, and know it by heart.  The tough little myst(ries whlicl
bother the bewildered brains of country school dullards, were
alwasv.s to her as vivid as the sunshine.  And when  sent on
l!1)g and weary errands, she believes that she has lbeen lifted
over the ground by her angelic helpers-" lest she shouild dashli
her fot agaiust a stone."  Whet she had too heavy a basket
to carry, an unseen  hand wvould sometimes carry it for lher.
Digging in the garden as if her back would brealk, occasionally
6
229 
IER,SPIRITUAL VISIOX.
a strange restfulness would refresh her, and she knew that the
spirits were toiling in her stead.  All this may seem an illusion
to everybody else, but will never be other than a reality to
her.
"Let me cite some details of these spiritual phenomena,
curious in themselves, and illustrating the forces that impel
hler career.
"' Iy spiritual vision,' she says dates back as early as my
third  yeCI'.  In Victorita's birtlplaice, a young woman named
lachel Scribner, about twenty-five years of age, who had been
Victo)lria's nurse, suddenly died.  On  the day of her death,
Aictoria was picked uip by her departing spirit, and bornie off
into the spirit world.  To this day Mrs. Woodhull describes
vividly her childish sensations as slhe felt herself glidinig throutlg
tl,e air —like St. Catlherine winged away by the anigels.  Her
mother te tifies thlit whlie this scene was enacting to thle child's
innier conileiousness, her little body lay as if dead for three hours.
Two of her sisters, who had died in childhood, were  consfan tly present with her.  Slle would talk to them as a girl
tattles to her dolls. They were her most fascinating playmattes, and she never cared for any others while she had their
invisib)le society.
In her tentih year, one day while sitting by the side of a cradle
rocking, a sick babe to sleep, she says that two angels came, and
ge(,ltly pushing her  away, began to f.ia  the child withl their
iwhite hlands, until its face grew fresh and rosy.  Her mother
then suiddenily entered the chamber, and behleld in amazement
tlhe little nurse lying in a trance on the floor, her face turned
upward toward t}e ceilin g, and the pininig babe apparently in
t!,e l)loom of health.
[In the above paragraph it will be seen that Mr. Tilton
"warms to his work," and that his enthusiastic confidence in
the gifted Woodhull expands into a wider faith in each and
every one of her elastic creeds. Clinginig to her snowy petticoatts he climl)s painfully "to the roof of her stately mainsioii
cn AIurrmiy Hill," and there blissfully contemplates the sainted
Victoria "communiing hourbyl hourwithi the spirits."  We can
imagine the first consternation, afterward charging to mute
surprise, of the neighiborss they descried Mr. Tilton and Mrs.
' oodhull thus enbhusiastically engaged in ghostly exercises.
230
6 
DEMOSTHENES.
MIr. Tilton, slowly and majestically telescoping himself through
the scuttle and handing Mrs. WAVoodlhull through the same niarrow aperture as a preface to their "communing hour by hour
with the spirits," must, indeed, have been a remarkable slpectacle, and one doubtless much appreciated by the residents of
the vicinity.
But while IMr. Tilton gloomily smoked his cigar "on the
roof of her stately mansion on Murray Hill," Mrs. Woodhull,
"unbleknownst to him," was holding high and lofty converse,
as befitted one perched on a housetop with no less a spiritual
dignity than Demosthlenes.  l:hy Demosthenes, unless  because of his quadrts/yllabate, and therefore prodigious name,
we can't for the litfe of us make out.  But the testimony of Mr.
Tilton is clear enough that although hle didn't see the great
orator with his own eyes, yet did Mrs. Woodhull "commune
with him hour by hour," a proceeding which would have been
excessively monotonous and irritating to any one less patient
and considerate than Mr. Tilton, who was apparently more
than content to deal with Demosthenes second-hand, per Mrs.
Woodhull, as schoolboys explore the rhetorical mysteries with
the secret aid and assistance of "cribs," and "ponies."-Eagle
Critic.]
The chief among her spiritual visitants, and one who has
been a majestic guardian to her from the earliest years of her
renimemibrance, shle describes as a matured man of stately figure,
clad in a Greek tunic, solemii and graceful in his asl)ect, strong
in his influence, an-d altogether dominant over her life.  For
many yeai]s, notwithstanding an almost daily visit to her vision,
he witlhleld his name, nor would her most importuneLte ciilestionings induce himn to utter it.  But lie always promised that
in due time he would reveal his identity. Meanwhlile he l)rophesied to her that she would rise to great distinction; tliht she
would emerge f'rom her poverty and live in a stately lhouse;
that she would win great wealth in a city whlich lie pictiured
as crowded with ships; that she would publish and condluct a
journal; and that finally, to Crown her career, she would beconicme the ruler of her people. AU length, after patiently waiting on this spirit guide for twenty years, one day in 1868,
2'0' 1 
VICTORIA'S MARRIAGE.
during a temporary sojourn in Pittsburgh, and while she was
sittingi at a marble table, he suddenly appeared to he(r, aild
wrote on the table in English letters the name "Demosthenes."  At first the writing was indistinct, but grew to sucih a
lustre( that the bi'ightness filled the room.  The apparition,
familiar as it had baen before, nov aftrighted her to tremnbliing.
The stately and commandiilg spirit told her to journey to New
York, where she would find at No. 17 Great Jones street, a
house in readiness for her, equipped in all things to her use
and taste.  She unhesitatingly obeyed, although she never before had heard of Great Jones street, nor until that revelatory
moment had entertained an intention of taking such a res-idence. On entering the house, it fulfilled in reality the pieture which she saw of it in her visioni-thie self-same hall, stairways, rooms, and fuirniture.  Enitering with some bewilderment
into the library, she reached out her hand by chance, and without knowing what she did, took up a book which, on idly looking at its title, she saw (to her blood-chilling astonishment) to
be "The Orations of Demosthenes."  From that time onward,
the Greek statesman has been even more palpably than in her
earlier years her prophetic imonitor, mal)ping out the life which
she must follow, as a chart for the ship sailing at sea.  She believes him to be her familiar spirit-the author of her public
policy, and thie inspirer of her published words. Without intruding my own opinion as to the authenticity of this inspiration, I have often thoiught that if Demosthenes could arise andl
speak English, hle could hardly excel the fierce light and heat
of some of the sentences which I have heard from this singular
woman in her glowing hours.
[Mr. Tilton then returns to Victoria's marriage at the age of
fourteen years, to a husband in his twenty-eighth year-a marriage that was approved by her parents, but which Tilton believes they should have prevented.  He says of this event:
"From the endurable cruelty of her parents, she fled to the
unendurable cruelty of her husband. She had been front her
tw(lfth to her fourteenth year a double victim, first to chills
auid fever, and then to rheumatism, which had jointly played
equal havoc with her beauty and health, until she was brought
withlin a step of "the iroildoor."  Dr. Canning Woodhull, a
gay rake, but who)se lhabits'were kept hid from her under general respectability of his fiamily connections (his father b)eing
an eminent judge, and his uncle the Mayor of Newv York),
232 
VICTORIA'S M-ARRIAGE.
was professionally summoned to visit thle chlild, and, beingo a
trained physician, arrested her decline.  Something about her
artless  manners  and  vivacious mind  capll)tnet llis fin(y.
Coming as a prince, he founi( her as C(lnderlla-a cl,ild of the
ashles.  Before she entirely recovered, an4 while looking haggard and sad, one day he stopped her ill th.e street, and said,
"iMv little chickl, I want you to go with me to the picnie"retferring to a projected Fotithli of July excursion then at hand.
r'i'lie promise of a little l)leasure acted like a chlarm on the houseworn and sorrow-stricken child.  She obtained her motlher's
assent to her going, but her father coupled it wvitl the condition that she slhouldlt first earn money enough to buy herself a pair
of shoes.  So the little fourteen-year olt drud(lge became for the
nonce an apple merchant, and wvith characteristic business energy sold her apples and boughlt her shoes.  She went to the
)ienic with Dr. Woodhull, like a ticket-of-leav: jutvenile delinquent, on a furlough.  Cn comning home fiom the festival, tlhe
brilliant fop, who, tired of the demi-mond(e lztdies whom he
could purchase for his pleasure, andt inspired wihll a sudden anid
romantic interest in this artless mind, said to her: " \ly li tie
pfuss, tell your father and motlher that I want yout f,r a wile."
'Thle startled girl quivered with anger at this announeement,
and with timorous speed fled to her mother and repeated the
tale, feeling as if some injury was threatened her anid some
danger impended.  But her parents, as if not unwilling to be
rid of a dclaulghter whose sorrow was ripening her into a woman
before her tine, were delighted at the unLexpected offer.  They
thought it a grand match.  They helped the young man's suit
and augmented their persecutions of the child.  Ignorant, innocent and simple, the girl's chief thought of the proffered
marriage was an escape from the parental yoke.  Four months
later she accepted the chanlge-flying from the ills she lihd to
others that she knew not of.  1Her captor, once possessed of his
treasure, ceased to value it.  On the third day afiter taking his
child wife to his lodgings, he broke her heart by remaining
away all night at a house of ill reputte.  Then for the first time
she learned, to her dismay, that he was habitually unchaste ati
given to fits of intoxication.  She was sttung to the quick.  The
slhock awoke all her womanhood.   She grew ten years older in
a single day.  A tumult of thought swept like a whirlwind
through her mind, ending at la*  in predominant purpose,
namely, to reclaim her liusband.  She set lherself religiously to
this pious task-calling oi1 God and the spirits to help her.
2933
0 
HER FIRST CHILlD.
Squandering, his money like a prodigal, he suddenly put his
wife illto the hiInlmblest quarters, where, left mostly to lierself, she
dwelt in bitterness of spirit, aggravated from time to time by
learning of his ordering bh skets of cham)tpagne, and drinkiln
lhimself drunk in the company of  *      *    *  *  *  *
Sometimes, withi uncommion courage, tlroigll rain and sleet,
half clad and shivering, she wotild ti'rck llim to his dens, and
by the energy of her sp)irit compel himii to return.  At other
times, all night long slhe would watch at the window, waitillng for
his footsteps, until she heard then languidly shluffling aloiing the
pavement withi the staggering reel of a drunken man, ili the
,shameless hours of the morning.
During all this tinie, she passionately prayed Ileaven to give
her the heart of her husband, but He;aveni, decreeing otherwise,
withheld it from her, and for her good.
In fifteen months after lher mnaririage, while living in a little
low frame house in Chicago, in tlhe dead of Winter, with icicles
clinging to her bedpost, and attended only by her half drunken
husband, she brought  forlth in almost mortal atgony ]her first
born child.  Ini her ensuing, helplessness, she became an object
of pity to a next door neigllb,,)r whlo, with a kitndness wlicli tihe
suLfferer's unliomelike homte (lid not afford, brought her daLy by
day somie nourishingl dish.  This same ministerilig, hand would
then wrap the br;be in a blanket, and take it to a happier
mother in the near neighborhood, who was at the same time
nuirsing a nevw bori sonI.  Iii thiis way Victoria ad hler cllildtllemtselves both childrteii-were cared for with minigled gentleness and neglect.  -
At the end of six days the little invalid attempted to rise and
put her sick room in order, when she was t"ken with delirium,
during which her mother visited her just in time to save her
life.
On her recovery, and after a visit to her father's house, she
returned to her own, to be horror struck at discovering that
her bed had been occupied the nii,ht befobre by her husband in
company with a wanton of the streets, ald that the room was
littered with the remains of their drunken feast.
"The biographer describes the desertion of the chlild-wife by
the husband for an entire month, her visit to a fiashionable
boarding house, vlwhere  r. W. was living with a female ill tlhe
relation of husband and wife, her exposure of him, and the expulsion of the Dr. and his mistress from the house in disgrace.
234 
SHE GOES TO CALIFORNIA.
Of the first fruits of this ill-assorted marriage  Mr. Tilton
iwrites:
To add to her misery she discovered that her child, begotten
in drunikness, and born in squalor, was a hlalf idiot; predestind( to be a hopeless imbecile for life; endowed with just
e(1ogll,u  intelligence to exhibit the light of reason in dim
eclil)se-a sad and pitifull spectacle in his motlle(r's house today, where hle roams from room  to room, muttering nioises
more sepulchral than human; a daily agony to the woman
who bore him, hoping more of her burden; and heightening
the pathos of her perpetual scene by the uncommon sweetness
of hlis temper which, by winning every one's love, doubles
every one's pity.
Journeying to California as a region where she might inspire her husband to begin a new life freed from old associations, she there found herself and her little family stranlgers in
a strantge city-beggars in a land of plenty.  Change of sky
is not change of mindcl.  Dr. Woodhull took  his habits, his
w-ife took her necessities, and bothl  took tlheir misery, from
EIlst to West.  In San Francisco, the girlish woman, wvith unreltaxed( energy, and as part of that lifelong heroism which will
one day have its monument, set herself to supp)orting the man
by wlhomn she otglt to have been supported.-A morningjournal
had an advertisement —"A cigar girl wanted."  The wife, with
her face of sweet sixteen, presented herself as the first candi(late, and was accepted on the spot.  The proprietor was  a
stalwart Ca,lifornian-one of those men who catch from a new
country something of the libera.lity which  the sailor brings
from the sea.  She served for one day behind his counterblushing, modest and sensitive, her ears tinglilng at every rude
remark by every uncouth customer-and at nightfall her employer, whlo had noticed the blood coming and going in her
cheeks, said to her, "My little lady, you are not the clerk I
want; I must have somebody whio can rough it; you are too
fiine."  Inquiring into her case hle was surprised to find her
matrrie( aud a maother.  At first he discredited this information, but there was no denying the truth of her story.  Hle acc)mpanlied her to her husband, and as the two men discovered
tlhenselves to each othler as brother Freemasons, he gave his
clerk of a day a twenty dollar got  piece and dismissed her
wi(i his blessing.  And I hgpe this has been revisited on his
own head.   *    *    *    *    *    *               Resortig
235 
"VICTORIA, COME HOME!"
to her needle, she carried from house to house this only
weapon whichl many women possess wllerewith to fight the bat tle of life.  She ciaiiccd( to come  uponII Ai,na Cogswell, the
actrt ss, vlwho wanted a s(amstress to make  lltr a tlhe(atrical
wairdriobe.  The winsome (Iressmaker wts eng.Lged at olice.
But her earning,s at thlis newv calliltng (lid not keep pa-ce with
expenses.  "It is no use," said shle to her draLmatic friend; "I
am  running, behindhland(.   1 must  do something  better."
Then," replied the actress, "you, too, must be an actress."
And, nothin,g loth to undertake anything  new and diflieult,
Victoria, who never before had dreamed of such a possibility,
was engaged as a lesser light to the Cogswell star.  For a first
appearance she was cast in the part of the Cou~ntry Cousin in
"New York bv Gaslight."  The text was given to her in the
morning, she learned and rehearsed it during the day, and
made a fair hit in it at night.  For six weeks thereafter she
earned fifty-two dollars a week as an actress.
"Never leave the stage," said some of her fellow performers,
all of vwhlom admired her simplicity and spirituality. "But I
do n t care for the stage," she said, "and  I sh,ll leave it at
the first ol)portunity.  I am meant for some other fLte.  But
what it is, I know not."
It came-as all things have come to her-through the agency
of spirits.  One night, while on the boards, clad in a pink silk
dress and slippers, acting in the ball room scene in the "Corsican Brothers," suddenly a spirit voice addressed her saying,
"Victoria, come home!" Thrown instantly into a clairvoyant
condition, she saw a vision of her young sister Teniie, then a
mnere child-standing by her mother, and both calling thc absent one to return.  Her mother and Tennie were then in
Columbus, Ohio.  She saw Tennie distinctly enough to notice
that she wvore a striped French calico frock   "Victoria, come
home!" said the little messenger, beckoning with hercllildish
forefinger.''Thle apparition would not be  d(-nied.  Victoria
thrlilled and chilled by the vision and voice, burst away at a
bound behlin(l the scenes, and without waiting to change her
dress, ran, clad with all icr dramatic adornments, through a
foogy rain to her hotel, and packing  up her few thlings that
nilght, betook herself with her husband and child next morninlg to the steamer bound for New York.  On the voyage she
was thrown into such vied spiritual states that she produced
a profound excitement among the passengers. On reaching
her mother's home she came upon Tennie dressed in the same
236 
A CLAIRVOYANT.
dress as in the vision; and on inquiring the meaning of the
message, "Victoria, come home!" was told that at the time it
was uttered her mother had said to Tcnnie, "My dear, send the
spirits after Victoria to bring her home;" and moreover the
French calico dress had appeared to her spirit sight at the very
first moment its wearer had put it on. 7'
This homeward trip, and its consequences, marked a new
phase in her career-a turning point in her life.
Hitherto her clairvoyant faculty had been put to no pecuniary use, but she was now directed by the spirits to repair to
Indianapolis, there to announce herself as a medium, and to
treat patients for the cure of disease. Taking rooms in the
Bates House, and publishing a card in the journals, she found
hers(If able, on saluting her callers, to tell by inspiration their
names, their residenice, and their maladies.  In a few days she
became the town's taik.  Hermarvelous performances in clairvoyanice being noised abroad, people fi)cked to her from a distance.  }ler rooms weie crowdtd and helr purse grew fat.  She
reaped a golden harvest-including, as it worthiest part golden
opinions from all sorts of people.  Her countenance would
often glow as with a sacred light, and she became an object of
religious awe to many wonder stricken people whose inward
lives she had revealed. Moreover, her unpretentious modesty,
and her perpetual disclaiming of any merit or power of her own,
and the entire crediting of this to spirit influence, augmented
the interest with which all spectators regarded the amiable
prod gy. First at Indianapolis, and afterwards at Te(rre Haute,
she wroughlt some apparently mi.raculustscures.  She st!,'ightened the feet of the lame; sh, opened thle eais of the deaf; she
detected the robbers of a bank; shle bro ught to light hidden
crimes; she solved physiological problems; she unveiled business secrets; she propheciedl future events.  KInowing the
wonders which she wrought, certain citizens disguised themselves and came to her, purporting to be strangers from a distant town, but she instantly said, "Oh, no; you all live here."
"How can you tell?" they asked.  "The spirits say so," she
replied.
Benedictions followed her; gifts were lavished upon her;
money flowed in a stream towards her. Journeying from city
to city in the practice of her spiritual art, she thereby supported all her relatives far and near  Hecr income in one )ear
reached nearly a hundred thousand dollars.  She received in
one day, simply as fees for'cures which she had wrought, five
237 
HER DIVORCE. 
thousand dollars.  The sum total of the receipts of her practice, and of her investments growing out of it, ulp to the time
of its discontinuance by direction of the spirits in 1869, was
seven hundred thousand dollars. The age of wonders has not
ceased!
During all this period, though outwardly prosperous, she
was inwardly wretched. The dismal fact of her son's half
idiocy so preyed upon her mind tlhat, in a heat of morbid feeling, she fell to accusing her innocent self for his misfortunes.
The  sight of his face rebuked her, until, in 1)rokentless of
spirit, she prayed to God for another child-a datugliter-to be
born, with a fair body and a soutnd mind.  l1er prayer was
granted, but not without many accompaniments of inhumanity.  Once duriing her catrri,age of her unborn charge, she was
kicked by its father in a fit of drunkenness-inflicting a bruise
on her body and -, greater bruise to her spirit.  Profound as
her double suffering was, in its lowest depth there was a deeper
still.  She was p)lunged into this at the child's birth.  This
event occurred att No. 53 Bond street, New York, April 23d,
1861.  She and her husbland were at the time the only occupants of the house-her trial coming upon her while no nurse,
or servant, or other human helper was under the roof. * *
*    *    *    *    *    *    *   *    *    *    *    *
[Here follows details too disgusting to reproduce. —THE
AUTHOR.]
It was this horrible experience that first awoke her mind to
the question:
"hAVly should I any longer live with this man?"  ITitherto
she had entertained an almost superstitious idea of the devotion with which a wife should cling to her husband.  She had
always been so faithful to him, that, in his cups, he would
mock and jeer at her fidelity, and call her a fool for maintaining it. At length the fool grew wiser, and after eleven years
of what, with conventional mockery, was called a marriagedutring, which time her husband had never spent an evening
with her at home, had seldom drawn a sober breath, and had
spent on other women, not herself, all the money he had ever
earned-she applied in Chicago for a divorce, and obtained it.
Previous to this crisis, there had occurred a remarkable incident which more than,ver confirmed her faith in the guardianshlip of spirits. One day, during a severe illness of her
son, she left him to'visit her patients, and on her return was
2 lot 8
0 
TEi~.IE A FORTUNE-TELLER. 
startled with the news that the boy had died two hours before.
"No," she exclaimnd,"I will not permit  his death.', Aind
withl frantic energry shle stripped her bosom naked, caught up
lhis lifeless form, pressed it to her own, and sitting thus, flesh
to flesh, glided insensibly into a triance it' wlhich she remained
S ven ihours, at the end of which time slheawoke; perspiration
started from his clammy skin, and the child that ha(d been
thought dead was brought back agatin to life-and( lives to this
day inl sad half death. It is her belief that the sl)irit of Jesus
Christ brooded over the lifeless form, and rewrought the miracle of Lazarus for a sorrowing woman's sake.
Victoria's father and mother, growing, still more fanatical
withl their advancing years, had all along subjected  her to a
series of singular vexations.  And the elder sisters had joined
in the mischief making,, outt-doing the parents.  Sometimes
they would burst in upon Mrs. Wootlldhull's house, and attempt
to) govern its internal economy;  sometimes  they would carry
off thle furniture, or ga[rmelits, or pictures; sometimes  they
would crown her with etlogies as the greatest of human beialgs,
and( in the same breath defame her as an agent of the devil.
But their great cause of persecution grew outt of her younger
sister Tennie's career.
This yotiung woman developed, while a child in her father's
house, a similar power to Victoria's. It was a penetrating
spiritual insight applied to the cure of disease.  But her father
and mother, who regarded their daughter in the alght of the
damsel mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, who "brought
her masters miuchl gain by soothisaying," put her before the public as a fortune teller.  By adding to much that was genuine
in her mnediumshlip more that was charlatanry, they aroused
agyainst this fraudulent business the indignation of the sincere
soul of Victoria, who, more than most human beings, scorns a
lie, and wouldL burn at the stake rather than practice a deceit.
She clutched Tennie, as by main force, and flung her out of
this semi-humbug, to the mingled astonishment of her moneygreedy family, one and all.  At this time Tennic was supporting a dozen or twenty relatives by her ill-gotten gains. Victoria's rescue of her excited the wrath of all these parasiteswh-ich has continued hot and undying against both to this day.
The fond and fierce mother alternately loves and hates the two
united defiers of her morbid will; and the father, at times a
Mlephistopheles, waits till the inspilation of cunning overmasters his parenltal instinct, and'atching for a moment when his
239
0 
COL. BLOOD.
ill word to a stranger will blight their business schemes, drops
ill upon some capitalist whose money is in their hanld, lodges
an indictment against his own flesh and blood, takes out his
handkercllief to hide a few well feigned tears, clasps his hands
with an unfelt agony, hobbles off smiling sardonically at the
mischief which he has done, and the next day repents his
wickedness with genuine contrition and manlier woe.  These
parents would cheerfully give their lives ias a sacrifice to atone
for the many mischiefs which they have cast like burrs at their
children; but if all the scars which they and their progeny
have inflicted on one another could be magically healed to-day,
they would be scratched open by the same hands and set stinging and tingling anew to-morrow.
There is a maxim that marriages are made in heaven, albeit
contradicted by the Scripture which declares that in heaven
there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage.  But, even
against the Scripture, it is safe to say that Victoria's second
marriage was made in heaven; that is, it was decreed by the
self same spirits whom she is ever ready to follow, whether
they lead her for discipline into the valley of the shadow of
death or for comfort in those ways of pleasantness which are
paths of peace.
Col. James H. Blood, commander of the Sixth Missouri Regiment, who, at the close of the war, was elected City Auditor of
St. Louis, who became President of the Society of Spiritualists
in that place, and who had himself been, like Victoria, the
legal partner of a morally sundered marriage, called one day on
lqrs. AVWoodhlull to consult her as a spiritualistic physician (hlaviing never met her before), and was startled to see her pass into
a trance, during which she announced, unconsciously to herself, that his future destiny was to be linked with hers in
marriage.  Thus, to their mutual amazement, but to their subsequent happiness, they were betrothed on the spot by "the
powers of the air." The legal tie by which at first they bound
themselves to each other was afterward by mutual consent annulled-the necessary form of Illinois law being complied with
to this effect. But the marriage law stands on its merits, and
is to all who witness its lharmoniiy known to be a sweet and accordant union of congenial souls.
Col. Blood is a man of a philosophic and reflective cast of
mind, all enthusiastic student of the higher lore of spiritualism, a recluse from socity, and an expectant believer in a stupendous destiny for Victoria.  A modesty not uncommon to
240 
THEIR AtIDNIGHT HOURS.
men of intellect, prompts him to sequester his name in the
shade rather than to see it glittering in the sun. But he is an
indefatigable worker-driving his pen through all hours of the
day and half of the night.  He is an active editor of Woodliull
abed Clqfliii's WFeekly, and one of the busy partners in the firm
of Woodhull, Claflin & Co., Brokers, at 44 Broad street, New
York. His civic views are (to use his favorite designation of
them) cosmopolitical; in other words, he is a radical of extreme
radicalisnm-an internationalist of the most uncompromising
type-a communist who would rather have died in Paris than
be the president of a pretended republic whose first official act
has been the judicial murder of the only Republicans in
France. His spiritualistic habits he describes in a letter to his
friend, the writer of this memorial, as follows:   "At about
eleven or twelve o'clock at night, two or three times a week,
and sometimes without nightly intervals, Victoria and I hold
parliament with the spirits. It is by this kind of study that
wve both have learned nearly all the valuable knowledge that
we possess.  Victoria goes into a trance, during which her
guardian spirit takes control of her mind, speaking audibly
through her lips, propounding various matters for our subsequent investigation and verification, and announcing principles, detached thoughts, hints of systems and suggestions for
affairs. In this way and in this spiritual night school, began
that process of instruction by which Victoria has arisen to her
present position as a political ecoinomist and politician. Durinig her entranced state, which generally lasts about an hour,
but sometimes twice as long, I make copious notes of all she
says, and when her speech is unbroken, I write down every
word, and publish it without correction or amendment. She
and I regard all the other portion of our lives as almost valueless as compared with these midnight hours." The preceding
extract shows that this fine-grained trancendentalist is a reverent husband to his spiritual wife, the sympathetic companion
of her entranced moods. and their faithful historian to the
world.
After a union with Col. Blood, instead of changing her
name to his, she followed the example of many actresses, singers, and other professional women whose names have become
a business property to their owners, and she still continues to
be known as Mrs. Woodhull.  - 
One night, about half a year after their marriage, she and
her husband were awakened at midnight, in Cincinnati, by the
11
211 
WILL BE REWARDED IN HEA VEN.
announcement that a man by the name of Dr. Woodhull had
been attacked with delirium tremens at the Burnet Ihouse, and
in a lucid moment had spoken of the womain from whom he
had been divorced, and begged to see her. Col. Blood imme diately took a carriage, drove to lhe hotel, brought the wretchced
victitn home, and jointly withl Victoria took care of him with
life-saving kindness for six weeks.  On his going away they
gave him a few hundred dollars of their joint property to make
him comfortable in another city.  He departed full of grati tude, bearing with him the assurance that he would always be
willing to come and go as a friend of the family.  And from
that day to this, the poor man, dilapidated in body and emas culated in spirit, has sojourned under Victoria's roof and some times elsewhere, according to his whim or will. In the present
ruin of the young gallant of tvwenty years ago, there is more
manhood (albeit an expiring spark like a candle in its socket)
than during any of the former years; and to be now turned
out of doors by the woman he wroinged(l, but who would not
wrong him in return, would be an act of inhumanity which it
would be impossible for Mrs. Woodhull and Col. Blood, either
jointly or separately to commit. For this piece of nol)le con-Iduct-what is commonly called her living with two husbands
under one roof-she has received not so much censure on earth
as I think she will receive reward in heaven. No other passage
of her life more signally illustrates the nobility of her moral
judgments, or the supernal courage by which she stands by
her convictions.  Not all the clamorous tongues in Christendom, though they should simnultaneously cry out against her,
"Fie, for shtame! " could persuade her to turn this wretchedl
wreck from her home. And I say shle is right; and I will
maintain this opinion against the combined Pecksniffs of the
whole world.
This act, and the malice of enemies, together with her bold
opinions on social questions, have combined to give her reputation a stain. But no slander ever fell on any human soul
with greater injustice. A more unsullied woman does not
walk the earth.  She carries in her very face the fair legend of
a character kept pure by a sacred fire within. She is one of
those aspiring devotees who tread the earth merely as a stepping stone to heaven, andtlhose chief ambition is finally to present herself at the supreme tribunal "spotless, and without
wrinkle, or blemish, or any such thing." Knowing herc as well
as I do, I cannot hear an accusation against her without recallihg Tennyson's line of King Arthur:
24'), 
LADY BRPOIERS.
"Is thy white blamelessness accounted blame?"
Fulfilling a previous prophecy, and following a celestial
mandate, in 1869, she founded a bank and published a journal.
These two events took the town by storm.  When the doors of
her office in Broad street were first tlhrdwn open to the public,
several thousand visitors came in a flock on the first day.  The
"lady brokers," as they were called (a strange confession that
brokers are not always gentlemen), were besieged like lionesses
in a cage. The daily press interviewed them; the weekly wits
.satirized them; the comic sheets caricatured them; but like a
couple of fresh young dolphins, breasting the sea side by side,
they showed themselves native to the element, and cleft grace fully every threatening wave that broke over their heads. The
breakers could not dash the brokers. Indomitable in their
energy, the sisters won the good graces of Commodore Vander bilt-a fine old gentleman of comfortable means, who of all the
lower animals prefers the horse, and of all the higher virtues
admires pluck. Both with and without Commodore Vander bilt's help, Mrs. Woodhull has more than once shown the pluck
that has held the rein of the stock market as the Commodore
holds his horse. Her journal, as one sees it week by week, is
generally a willow basket full of auda(ious manuscripts, ap parently picked up at random and thrown together pell mell,
stunning the reader with a medley of politics, finance, free love,
and the pantarchy.  This sheet, when the divinity that shnpes
its end shall begin to add to the rough hewing a little smooth
shaping; in other words, when its unedited chaos shall come
to be moulded by the spirits to that order which is Heaven's
first law; this not ordinary but "cardinary" journal, which is
edited in one world, and published in another, will become less
a confusion to either, and more a power for both.
In 1870, following the Eng,lish plan of self-nomination, Mrs.
Woodhull announced herself as a candidate for the Presidency,
mainly for the purpose of drawing public attention to the
claims of women to political equality with man. She accom panied this announcement with a series of papers in the Herald
on politics and finance, which have since been collected into a
volume entitled "The Principles of Government."  She has
lately received a more formal nomination to that high office by
the Victoria League, an organization which, being somewhat
Jacobinical in its secrecy, is ptularly supposed, though not
definitely known, to be presided over by Commodore Vander bilt, who is also similarly imagined to be the golden corner
243
0 
I  A TRi A XNCE.
stone of the business house of Woodiull, Claflin & Co. Should
she be elected to the high seat to which she aspires (an event
concerning which I make no prophecy), I am at least sure that
she would excel any queen on any throne 1now in her native
faculty to govern others.
"OOne night in December, 1869, while she lay in deep sleep,
her Greek guardian came to her, and sitting transfigured by
her couch, wrote on a scroll (so that she could not only see
the words, but immediately dictated them to her watchful
amianuensis) the memorable  document now known in history
as "lThe Memorial of Victoria C. Woodhull "-a  petitions
addressed to Congress, claiming under the Fourteenth Amendment the right of women as ot other' citizens of the United
States" to vote in " the States wherein they reside "-asking,
moreover, that the State of New York, of which she was a
citzen, shlould be restrained by Federal authority from preventing the exercise of this constitutional right.  As up to this time
neither she nor her husband had been greatly interested in
women suffrage, hle had no sooner written this manifesto from
her lips, than he awoke from the tralce, and protested against
the communicatiotn as nonsense, believing it to be a trick of
some evil disposed spirits.  In the morning the document was
shown to a number of friends, including one eminent judge,
who ridiculed its logic and conclusions.  But the lady hlerself,
from whose sleeping and yet unsleeping brain that stranige
document had sprung like Minerva from the head of Jove,
simply answered that her antique instructor, having never
misled her before, was guidinig her aright then.  Nothing
dou)bting, but much wondering, she took the novel demand to
Washington, where alter a few days of lauglhter firom the
shallow minded, and of neglect from  the inidifferent, it suddenly burst uponI the Federal Cap)ital like a storm, and then
spanned it like a rainbow.  She went before the Judiciary
Committee, and delivered an argument in support of her claim
to the franchise utnder the new ameundmeits, which some who
heard it, pronounced one of the ablest efforts which they had
ever heard on any subject.  She caught the listening ears of
Senator Carpenter, Gen. Butler, Judge Woodward, George W.
Julian, GeneraLl Ashley, Judge Loughridge and other able
statesmen in Congress, and harnessed these gentlemen as
steeds to her chariot.  4ch was the force of her appeal that
the whole city rushed together to hear it, like the Athenians
to the market place when Demosthenes stood in his own and
2-1-1 
B UTLEP.'S SCALP.
not a borrowed clay.  A great audience, one of the finest ever
gathered in the Capitol, assembled to hear her defend her
thesis ill thle first public speech of her life.  At the moment
of rising, her face was observed to be very pale, and she
appeared about to faint.  On being  afterward questioned as to
the cause of her emotion, she replied that, during the first
prolonged moment, she remembered an early prediction of her
guardian spirit, until then forgotten, that she would one day
speak in public, aid that her first discourse would be produced
in the Capital of her country. The sudden fulfilment of this
prophesy smote her so violently that for a moment she was
stunned into apparent unconsciousness. But she recovered
herself, and passed through the ordeal with great successwlhich is better luck than happened to the real Demosthenes,
for Plutarch mentions that his maiden speech was a failure,
and that hlie was laughed at by the people.
"Assisted by Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Paulina Wright Davis,
Isabella Beecher Hooker, Susan B. Anthony, and other staunch
and able women whom she swiftly persuaded into accepting
this construction of the Constitution, she succeeded, after her
petition was denied by a, majority of the Judiciary Committee,
in obtaining a minority report in its favor, signed jointly by B.
F. Butler, of Mfassacl]usetts, and Judge Loughridge, of Iowa.
To have clutched this report from Gen. Butler-as it were a
scalp from the ablest head in the House of RIepresentativeswas a sufficient trophy to entitle the brave lady to an enirollment in the political history of her country.  She means to go
to Washingtoii again next winter to knock at the half open
doors of the Capitol until they shall swing wide enioughl asunder to admit her enfranchised sex.
"I must say something of her personal appearance, although
it defies portrayal, whether by photograph or pen. Neither
tall nor short, stout nior slim, she is of medium statue, lithe
and elastic, free and graceful.  ITer side face looked at over
her left shoulder, is oft' perfect aquilinie outline, as classic as
ever went into a Roniani marble, and resembles the masque of
Slakspl)eare taken after death; tile same view, looking from the
righlt, is a little broken,tanid irregular; and the front Iace is
broad, with prominent cheek bones, and with some unshapely
nasal lines.  I1er countenance is never twice alike, so variable
is its expression and so depeident are her moods,  I-ler soul
comes into it and goes out of-it, giving her at one tilme the
look of a superior and'almost saintly intelligence, and at
245
0 
NO SUCH WORD AS FOO[L.
another dull, commonplace and unprepossessing.  When under
a strong spiritual influence, a striange and mystical light
irradiates from her face, reminding the beholder of the Jiebrew
Lawgiver who gave to men what he received friom God and
whose face during the transfer shone.  Tennyson, as with the
hand of a gold-beater, has beatiiutlly gilded the same expression in his stanza of St. Stephen the Martyr in the article of
death:
" And looking upward full of grace,
He prayed,,and from a happly place,
God's glory sminote him on the face."
"In  conversation,  until she is somewhat warmed  with
earnestness, she halts, as if her mind were elsewhere, but the
moment she brings all her faculties to her lips for the full
utterance of her message, whether it be of persuasion or indignation, and particularly when under spiritual control, she is a
very orator for eloquence-pouring forth her sentences like a
mountain stream, sweeping away everything that frets its flood.
"11 Her hair, which when left to itself is as long as those tresses
of Hortense in which her son, Louis Napoleon, used to play
hide and seek, she now mercilessly cuts close like a boy's, from
impatience at the daily waste of time in suitably taking care
of this prodigal gift of nature.
"She can ride a horse like an Indian, and climb a tree like
an athlete; she can swim, row a boat, play billiards, and dance;
moreover, as the crown of her physical virtues, she can walk
all day like an English woman.
"'Difficulties,' says Emerson,'exist to be surmounted.'
This might be the motto of her life. In her lexicon (which is
still of youth) there is no such word as fail. Her ambition
is stupendous-nothing is too great for her grasp. Prescient
of the grandeur of her destiny, she goes forward with a resistless fanaticism to accomplish it.  Believing thoroughly in herself (or rather not in herself but in her spirit aids), she allows
no one else to doubt either her or them. In her case the old
miracle is enacted anew-the faith which removes mountains.
A soul set on edge is a conquering weapon in the battle of
life. Such, and of Damascus temper, is hlers.
"In making an epitomne of her views I may say that in
politics she is a downright Democrat, scorning to divide her
fellow citizens into upper,nd lower classes, but ranking tlhem
all in one comprehensive equality of right, privilege and
246
6 
JOHN STUART VILL.
opportunity; concerning finance, which is a favorite topic withi
her, she holds that gold is not the true standard of money
value, but that the Government  should abolish the gold
standard, and issue its notes instead, giving to those a fixed
and permanenlt value, and circulating them as the only money;
on social questions, her theories are similar to those which have
long been taught by Johnrl Stuart Mill and Elizabeth  Cady
Stanton, and which are styled by some as free love doctrines,
while others reject this ap)pellation on acount of its popular
association with the idea of a promiscuous intimacy between
the sexes-the essence of her system being that marriage is of
the heart and not of the law, that when love ends marriage
should end withl it, being dissolved by nature, and that no civil
statute should outwardly bind two hearts whichl have beenii
inwardly sundered; and finally iii religion she is a spiritualist
of the most mystical and ethereal type.
In thus speaking of her views, 1 will add to them another
fundamental article of her creed, which an incident will best
illustrate. Once a sick woman who had been given ul) by the
physicians, and who had received from a Catholic priest extreme unction in expectation of death, was put into the care
of Mrs. MWoodhull, who attempted to lure her back to lile.
This zealous physician, unwilling to be baffled, stood over her
patient day and night, neither sleeping nor eating for ten days
and nighlts, at the end of whichl time she was gladdened not
only at witnessing the sick woman's recovery, but at finding
that her own body, instead of weariness or exhaustion from
the double laclk of sleep and food, was more fresh and bright
than at the beginning. Iler face, during this discipline, grew
uncommonly fair and ethereal; her flesh wore a look of transparenicy; and the ordinary earthiness of mortal nature began
to disappear from her physical frame and its place to be sul)plied with what she fanicied were the foretokens of a spiritual
body. These phenomena were so vivid to her own consciousness and to the observation of her friends, that she was led to
speculate profoundly on the transformation from our mortal to
our immortal state, deducing the idea that the time will come
vlwhenl the living human body, instead of ending, in death  by
disease, and dissolution in the grave, will be gradually reflined
away until it is entirely sloughed off and the soul only, and
not the flesh, remains. It is in this way that she fulfills to hler
daring hope the prophecy that'the last enemy to be destroyed
is death."
a
247 
SIMEON STYLITES.
Engrossed in business affairs, nevertheless at any moment
she would rather die than live, such is her infinite estima.te of
the outer world over this.  But she disdains all comm()npllace
patrleyings with the spirit realm  suchl as are had in ordinary
spirit manifestations.  On tlhe other hand, she is passionately
eager to see the spirits face to — face, to summon  them at her
will and communie with themi at her pleasure.  Twice, as she
unshakenly believes, she has seen a vision of Jesus Christ,
hlonored thus doubly over St. Paul, who  saw his Master but
once, and then was overcome by the sighlt.  She never goes to
any church, save to the solenin temple whose starry a,ch spans
her housetop at night, where she sits like Simeon  Stylites onl
his pillar, a worshiper in the sky.  Against the inculcations
of her childish education, the spirits have taught her that Ie
whom the church calls the Savior of the world is not God but
man. But her reverence for Hlim is supreme and ecstatic.
The Sermon on the Mount fills her eyes with tears.  The exulting exclamations of the P'salmtist are her familiar outburs s
of devoti,)ii.  For two ye,'trs, as a talisman against any temptationI toward untrutlhfulness (which, with her, is tlhe unpardonable sin), she wore stitched into the sleeve of every one of her
dresses the second verse of the 110thl Psatlm, namely, "Deliver
my  soul, 0  Lord;  fr,im lying lips, and  from  a deceitful
toI,ngule."  Speakig thle trutlh punctiliously, whether in great
thilngs or small, shle rigorously exacts the same of others, that
a deceit practiced upon her enkindles her soul to a fire; aid
she has acquired a clairvoyant or intuitive power to detect a
lie in the moment of its utterance, and to smite the liar in his
act of guilt.  She believes that intellectual power had its fountains in spiritual inspiration.  And once when I put to her the
searching question, "What is the greatest truth that has ever
beein expressed in words?" she thliilled me with the sudden
answer, "Blessed are the pure in heart fobr they shall see
God."
As showing that her early clairvoyant power still abides, I
will mention a fresh instance.  Ai emineni t judge in Peinnsylvania, in whose court house I had once lectured, called latelv
to see me at the office of the  Gol(dent Aye.  On  mny inquiring
after his family, he told me that a strang,e event had just liLppened in it.  " Three months atgo," said hle, "while i was in
New York, Mrs. Woodhull said to ImeC, with a rush of feelilg,
'Judge, I foresee that yot will lose two of your children witlhinii six weeks.'"   This anuouncement, lhe said, wounded him as
248
0 
LUCRETIA MOTT.
a tragic sort of trifling with life and death. "But," I asked,
"did anything follow the prophecy?" "Yes," he replied,' fiilfillment; I lost two children within six weeks."  The Judge,
who is a Methlodist, ti-lillks that Victoria, the clairvoyant, is
like "Annia, the prophetess."
Let me say that.I know of no person against whom there
are more prejudices, nor any one who more quickly disarms
them.  This s5range faculty is the most powerful of' her powers.  She shoots a word like a sudden sunbe-,m  through  the
thickest mist of people's doubts and accusations, and clears the
slky in a moment. Questioned by some committee or delegation
who have come to her with idle tales agtinsst her busy life, I
have seen her swiftly gather together all the stonies which they
have cast, put them like the miner's quartz into the furnace,
melt them with fierce and fervent heat, bring out of them the
purest gold, stamp thereon her image and superscription as if
she were sovereign of the realm, ahd then (as the marvel of it
all) receive the sworn allegiance of the whole company on the
spot. At one of her public meetings when the chair (as she
hoped) would be occupied by Lucretia Mott, this venerable
woman had been persuaded to decline this responsibility, but afterward stepped forward on the platform and( lovingly kissed the
young speaker in the presence of the multitude.  IHer enemies
(save those of her own household) are strangers.  To see her
is to respect her-to know her is to vindicate her.  She has
some impetuous and headlong faults, but were she without the
same traits which produce these she would not possess the mad
and magnificent energies which (if she lives) will make her a
heroiiie of history.
In conclusion, amid all the rush of her active life, she believes with Wordsworth that
" The gods approve the depth and not
The tumult of the soul."
So, whether buffeted by criticism, or defamed by slander, she
carries herself in that religious peace which through all turbulen ce, is "a measureless content."  When apparently about
to be struck down, she gathers unseen strength and goes forward conquering and to conquer.  Known only as a rash iconoclast, and ranked even with the most uncouth of those noise
makers who  are waking a sleapy world before its time, she
beats her daily gong of business and( reform with notes not
musical but strong, yet mellows the outward rudeness of the
11*
249
0 
THE EAGLE'S CRITICISMS.
rhythm by the inward and devout song of one of the sincerest,
most reverent and divinely giftled of human souls.
The above voluminous extracts from Mr. Tilton's biography
of Mrs. Woodhull, clearly show the sentiments he entertained
towards her when this glowing tribute to her talent and her
virtues came fresh from his pen. Whether it be true, as Mrs.
Woo(ldhull alleges, that Theodore Tilton was her devoted lover
is a secret probably only known to themselves; but that this
biograpl)hy should be rep)ro(luced in the journal that throughout
the investigation championed the cause of the accused, and
left the legitimate domain of journalism to traduce and bring
disrepute on the accuser, is an evi(lence that the fiiends of the
Plymouth pastor, feared the power held by Theodore Tilton.
The Eagle editor in closing his criticism of the biography thus
bitterly writes:
"[Little remains to be added by way of comment to the extraor(linary and suicidal columns in which Mr.  Tilton sought to
crucity the principles in behalf of which he yearns to expire
in roseate martyrdom.   While his own wife was  suffering at
home, wrapped in the shadow of doubt and suspicion, wrung
with open charges against her fidelity to him, tortured with all
the ingenious refinements which accumulated until they drove
her from her home and from her children, Mr. Tilton was busily
engaged in glorifying a creature whose diabolical mission was
the debasement and degradation of the purest and noblest of
social institutions.
As if in the bitterest irony at his own expense, he sacrificed
the intellectual harvest of his life, on the altar of that very
licentiousness which he complains has broulght havoc into lhis
household and dishonor on his name.   That sacrifice confronts
the people of Brooklyn to-day, in this page, and(, if there be
one person who can derive pleasure firom contemplating the
sorrowful sl)ectacle, that person can be none other than the
vicious and fatal adventuress who lured him into her house of
death and at whose feet, as Sampson at Delilahl's he fell and
slumbered, to his own ruin and despair.
On Friday July 26th Mrs. Woodhull and her sister Miss
Claflin arrived unexpecte(ty in the city and were immediately
interviewed by the reporters of several journals.  As  it bears
250 
W. & C. RETURIN'FROM CALIFOIpIA.
directlb- upon her relations with Mr. Tilton and flatly contradicts the reported interview given with her in Ch'ap. IX. as to
criminal relations between her and icr biographer, it is given
here in fuill as it al)ppeared in the Izli?its on the followiiug day:
' I would not lhave ogranted( this lnetingi to any but an ARGUs
rel)resentativ-e,' began  iMrs. Woo(ll11ll1, with a smile,' but  I
saw a copy of your paper at the Fifth Aveltie Hotel, last evening, and I was delilghted with the strailghtforwardl statement
from Mr. Tilton, which it contained.  Why, sir, (lo you klnow,'
said the lady, fraiiankly-,' I have had rel)orters following Inme ever
since I left San Francisco, but I did not wish to tell them anything(, and I didn't.'
When did you leave San Francisco.'
"'Let me  see- two  weeks ago this morning.  I stopped
three or four days at Salt Lake City.'
"' Was it the Beechler-Tilton matter which prompted you to
come East?'
"Yes; I intended remnaining three or four months  longier,
but I looked upon this as my own battle, a battle for the principles which I have advocated, and I came straight on to take
my part in the fight.'
There was little need of the reporter's propoundingli questions after Mrs. Woodhull had fairly opened on the subject.
WVith that vivacity of manner and( crispness of speech that have
alrways characterized her, the lady g,ave her views plainly and
emphatically.
I kInow very well why this great pressure has been broullght
to bear to hidcle the truth.  It is because many persons  are
frightened to death from fear that all the facts will be made
lknown.  And yet, what have they to be fi'ighltened about?  Let
them comne out and withstand public opinion! Eighiteen hIindred vears ago Cllrist ba(le the woman sini no more; and( after
all these vears of wickedness and wretchedness, are men fit, today, to judge their fellows?'
' Mrs. Woodhull, you have read tlle Statement of Theodore
Tilton "   I have read every word that has b)een printed.'
Very good.  Do you believe that Statemenct to be true?'
"Every word of it is tlrue,' and her words were  spoken
with marked emphasis.  Shle continue(l:
" The only fault that I find ft, that Theodore has told only
one-third of what he ouglit and mighllt have told.  He  wants
251
0 
WILL THE P UBLIC BE SATISFIED.
to shield some one.  Who is it?  He has been a sorely-abused
and injured man.  Ilie oughlt to speak out!  See the chliaritv
which lie displayed in living with his wife for years after he
knew all!  He has made an affidavit, and Mr. Beecher  and
ELlizabeth deny its substan('e.  Will  the public  be satisfied
with simply a verbal deleial?  Let me tell you, the sentiment
in tlhe West-and l,I have had excellent opportunities for jud(ging it ari(ght-is turning strongly in favor of  Air. Tilton.
Now' here is a direct question, Mrs. Woodhull: Did ll's.
Tilton ever confess to you that she had been faithless to her
marria-ge vows?'
' I won't answer?' exclaimed Mrs Woodhull, impulsively.
Then, atfter a moment's hesitation, she adtded:' When  I first
published the statement that I knew of two eminent divines
who were living in concubinage and preaching from their pulpits, I was not acquainted with Theodore Tilton.  I had never
met him.  I supposed him to be a clergyman.  The dlay after
the announcement appeared, lie called upon me, showed me the
extract, and asked me if it referred to him.  I told him it did.
In two or three days' time, he invited me to his house, and intro(luce(l me to his wife.  What would he have (lone that for?
NWhat if not to say Elizabeth, here is one who knows all!'
" Then yout did not get your first information firom  Mr. Tilton?'
" No; that assertion is a falsehood.  Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Isal)ella Hooker told me.  The matter had been talked
over for months between these ladies, before I gave it to the
public.  Andl, understand, it was the hypocrisy of the thing I
dletested.  If, when I had made the charoes, Mr. Beecher had
come out and said, I Well sir, what are you going to (do about
it?'  Wlait could any one have (lone about it?  Who was to
arr.aign the pastor of P-lymouth Church?"
You remarked, just now, MArs. Woodhull, tllat you believed
Mrs. Tilton's Statement to be true.  What think you of Mrs.
Tilton's (ldenial?"
" Mrs. Tilton's denial is untrue, and I know it.  I-lad Elizabeth stopped to recall some facts, she would not have made
such a statement.  When Mr. Tilton found that Elizabeth
loved Mr. Beecher, and when MIrs. Beeclher found that her husban(l loved Elizabeth, it wxVs positively wicked for either man
and wife to live togetherelonger.  It is always wrong for two
l)eisons to live together when they (do not love each other.
Why, I have talked often with 3IMr. Beecher on this subject, and
41
252 
MOULTON GRAND AND GOOD.
I know veriy well what his views are.  You saw the words of
his brother, Tliomas K.,' Hlenry only carries out thle philosophy
agailist which I protested twenty years  go,' which means nmy
p)lhilosoplhyv.  And that is the philosophy of Mr. lcecher.  I-e
lknows thle present social svstem is Wl'Olig; he doni't believe in
it.  I have asked( himi to l)reach what lic l)racticed, but he has
not had the coturage to do so.  MIr. lBeeclier sees a rottenness
in tlle wlole social worldl.  To reiiied(y this has been and is his
philosol)liy.  As to the Statement made by MIr. B3echler, I b(elieve tlhat IMr. Beeclier never wrote that statement.  It doesn't
show it.  There is nothiing in it siggestive of thle man."
Your opinion of MIr. Frank Mloulton is not changed, is it?"
"Not in thle least.  I believe Fraulk Moulton to be the same
grand, good man that lie always was.  As  I said last nighlt,
Frank is one of natture's lioblemen.  Ile has stood between Mlr.
Tilton and Mr. Beeclier tlirougllout this aft'lair; and he has done
his duty to both.  I do not believe lie will shirk now."
"hlis testimony, you tllink, will be important?"
" Of the utmost importance! All that Ir. Tilton has said
will l)e proven.  He  has the letters in his possession, and I
klnow he will produce thlem.  Witlhotut Franlk  Iotilton's evi(leni(e, I tllink they woul(l (rush Al r. Tilton, for so lltny illfliential members of Plymouthtl Clhi(ulch a'te bent on doing it."
And y-ou havc no (odotbl)t that MIr. MtIoulton will spealik?"
None.   Only yester(lay, when I met hil, lie said,' Tlieodor-e Tilton shall not  be crucified,' and lie meant  what lie
sait. "
" Do yout  know  more of this matter, MIrs. Woodhull, tlhan
you have given to the world?"
"Yes, I know somethling of the inside histoiry.  When tlhey
are all (lone, I shlall speak.  I shlall give some truthtls which are
not now known, and some facts which are not now understood.
]ly the wvay, I wish you would( correct th(tt abs?urd statement ( chich
al,))eare()( in some of the  )apers charging in7timate relationis betvCee)i. ~[)-. Tilton anld m y?/selfj.  It is a(n atrocious fa(,lsehoo(l."
.Just spl)l)osiig the Committee should rel)ort a(lverscly to
iMr. leclici's case-whlat (do you pred(lict the pastor of Plymoutitl  0ol(l (l o?  Step (down and out?"
N o, i(ndeled!  I believe that lie would collect about him a
circle of hiiliier mind(s than lie ever has belbre.  If lie has nobleness enoioli, even now, to statelliiiigs as they are, he will rise
to a liolicer eminence thaniec has ever attaine(l."
Then! ot enctertain no ill-feeliu(r toward AMr. Beeclier?"
"Not the slilghtest.  It is only tlhel-hyp)ocrisy I hlate!"
il
253 
CHAPTER XI.
MR. BEECIIER'S CALL FOR AN INVESTIGATION BY A TTITR OF HIS
OWN CIIOICE.-TIIE LONG LOOKED FOR BLOW FALLS AT LAST
UPON THE PASTOR.-TIIE ASTOUNDING CHARGES OF TILTON.  OFT REPEATED ACTS OF CRIMINAL COMMERCE BETWIEEN MRS.
TILTON AND HER PASTOR.-MIt. 11EECIIER CIIAtRGE,I) WITIh "N1EST
IIIDING. "-A SAD TALE OF DOMESTIC INFELICITY.-A WOMIAN'S
DEVOTEDI) LOVE, RELIGIOUS ZEAL, PLATONIC LOVE FOIL HER PAS  TOR, ETC.-HER CONFESSION TO HER IIUSBAND.-IIOW  MR.
BE'ECHER WRUNG A DENIAL OF TIlE CIIARGES FROM HER TO
SAVE AN EXPOSURE.
T1HE public at once saw that the time had passed for com    promnise and the whole scandal was likely to be laid bare.
The whole community were visibly excited over the threatened
revelations, and the church especially felt that there was no
longer  a hope of suppression.  Oni the 27th of June, two ldays
after the publication of Mr. Tilton's letter to Dr. Bacon, Rev.
Henry Ward  Beecher asked several gentlemnen of the Co(ngregation                  of Plymouth C   hurch to examine the charg(res  against
him,                  and to make a     report in regard to them.  Thle following
i         s the letter, a   copy of which  was sent to each of the gentlem e           n    named:
B13ROOLYN,  Tune 27th, 1874.
GENTLEMEN:   In the present state of the public feeling, I owe it to nmy
friends and to the Chulrch and the Society over which I amn pastor, to have
soime proper investigation nIde of the runiors, insinuations, or charges
made  respecting my  Londuct, as compromised  b)y the late publications
254 
~:/~~;~~        ~
N'Llil. 1I'ZI    Ill    11'
0 
to
I 
BEECIFER ASKS FOR AIN INQ UIR Y.
made by Mr. Tilton.  I have thought that both the Church and the Society
should be represented, and I take the liberty of asking thie following gentlemen to serve in this inquiry, and to do that which truth and justice may
require. I beg that each of the gentlemen named will consider this as if
it hlead been separately and personally sent to him, namely:
Fro?n the Church-Henry W. Sage, Augustus Storrs, Henry M. Cleve
land.
Fr-om the:ociety-Horace B. Claflin, John Winslow, S. V. White.
I desire you, when you have satisfied yourselves by an impartial and
thorough examination of all sources of evidence, to communicate to the
Examination Committee, or to the Church, such action as then may seem
to you right and wise.                         HENRIY WARD BECHIER.
Oin the 6thll of July, MIr. Beecher wrote the following note to
the Examlining Committee of Ilymouth Church.
July 6thl, 1874.
DEAR BRETRrF.,N:  I enclose to you a letter in which I have requested
three gentlemen from the Church, and three from the Society of Plymouth
Church (gentlemen of unimpeachable repute, and who have not been involved in any of the trials thlroulgh which we have passed during the year),
to make a thlorou-gh and impartial examination of all chlarges or insinlluations against my good name, and to report the same to you; and I now
respectfully request that you will give to this Committee the authority to
act in your behalf also. It seemed wise to me that the request should
proceed from me, and without your foregoing knowledge, and that you
should give to it authority to act in your behalf in so far as a thorough investigation of the facts should be concerned.
HENRY WVARD BEECHER.
Public opinion forced this course upon the accused pastor,
and when it was published, sympatlhy was created for him, where
before his action was viewed with grave suspicion.  All hope
of a compromise was not yet abandoned, however, and on the
13thl of Jnlv Frank Aotulton, the mutual friend of Beecher and
Tilton, appeared  before  the Committee and presented the
following statement:    Gentle?met of the Committee -I appear before yon at iyour
invitation, to make a statement which I have read to MIr. Tilton and MIr. Beecher, which both deem honorable, and in the
fairness and propriety of which,,o far as I am concerned, they
both concur.  The partiesin this case are personal friends of
250' 
NO UL TON TO THE COMMITTEE.
mine, in whose behalf I have endeavored to act, as the umpire
and peacemaker, for the last four years, witll a conscientiotls
regard for all the interests involved.  I regret for your sakes
the responsibility imposed on me of appearing here to-night.
If I say anythiing, I must speak the trtith.  I do not believe
that the simple curiosity of the' world at large, or even of this
Committee, ought to be gratified thlrough any recitation by me
of the facts which are ill imy possession, necessarily in confidence,
thllrough imy relations to the parties.  The personal differences
of which I am  aware as the chosen arbitrator, have once been
settled honorably between the parties, and would  never have
been revived except on account of recent attacks, both in and
out of Plymouth Church, made upon the character of Theodore
Tilton, to which he thou(rlght a reply necessary. If the present
issue is to be settled, it must be, in my opinion, by  the parties
themselves, either together or separately before your Committee,
each talking the responsibility of his own utterance.  As I am
fuilly conversant with the facts and evidences, I shall, as between these parties, if necessary, deem it my duty to state the
trutll, in order to final settlemient, and that the world may be
well informed before proinouncing its judgment with reference
to either.  I therefore suggest to you that the parties first be
heard; that if then -ou deem it nlecessary that I should al)ppl)ear
before yout, I will do so, to speak the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing(r but the truth.  I hold to-night, as I lhave held
hitherto, the op)inion that Mr. Beecher shlouldcl fianklyl state that
lie had committed an offence against AMr. Tilton, for whichl it
was necessary to apl)olog(ize, and for which hle did( ap)ologize in
the languagcre of the letter, part of which has been quoted; that
he should have stated firankly that he deemied it necessary for
M11. Tilton to have made the defence  against Dr. Leonard
Bacon which he did make, and that he  (IMr. Beeclher) should
refuse to be a p)arty to the re-openingi of this painful subject.
If he had made this statement, he would have stated no more
thani the truth, and it would have saved himi and you the reslponsibilitv of a further inqui-ry.  It is better now tlhat the Committee shlouldl not rel)ort; and, in place of a report, Mri. Beecher
himself shlould makle the statement which I have suggested; or
that, if the Committee  does report, the report should be  a
recommendation to Mr. Beecher to make such a statement."
The action of Mlr. Beckher in asking to be tried bI)v a committee of his own choosiing excited much cr-iticism, and for a few
256
0 
TILTON TO THE COM'MITTEE.'
days doubts were entertained whether Mr. Tilton would recognize that body as a proper tribunal to pass upon the momentoius
question of their pastor's guilt or innocence.  Btut in the meantime Mrs. Tilton, without the knowle(dge or consent of her husband, had appeared before them, an(I dlisavowed( any criminal
transactions with her pastor.  This action at once aroused the
lhusband,.and( rendered further compl)rolise iml)ossil)le. He at
once recognized the Coimmittee in the followingr communicationI:
No. 174 LIVINGSTON STREET, BITOOKLYN, July 13th, 1874.
To the Iiivesti(ttiigi Coimmittee:
GENTLE.IEN —When, on Friday last, I met you at your invitationi, the appl)oitment of your Committee.had not  then
been made known to the public.  You sat ill a private capacity.
Moreover, one of your legal advisers had 1)revionsly given
me a hope that if, on my.ppl)earance before you, I woul(  I)preserve a judicious reticence concernilgi the worst aspects of the
case, I ighlt tlereby  facilitate, tlyrouol 3you, such a moderate
public presentation of Mr. Beechlecr's offense and apology as
would close, rather than prolong, the existing scandal.
I rejoiced in this hol)e, and( prionl)tly reciprocated( the kindly
feeliing which was reported to me as shared by you all toward
imy-self and family-.
Accordinglyo, when I met you in conference, my brief statemelt was, in substance, the two following points.  First, that
nkv letter to Dr. Bacon was written, not as an act of aggressioin,
but of self-defense-arising, as thlerein set forthl, fromn great
and grievous provocation l)y your  pastor, your Church, the
Brooklyn Council, and the ex-lModeratoi's criticisms on  my
supplosed conduct —all uniting to (lefa.mte me before the worl(,
and to inflict upon mei an tunjust l)unishlment for acts (lone by
another; and second, that lhavinr 1)y thlat letter (lefended myself so far as I tlhooughlt the occasion reqluired me to cal'1'y my
reply-, I felt unwilliong to proceed firiitlier against Mr. Beeclier
without farther l)lpublic p)rovocation or ot,ler necessity.
Such a necessity is now lai(d uponl)l me by Mr. Beecher himself, in the publication of.a direct request )by him to you to inqilire officially illtO his character as af'ected by his offense and
apoloOgy, to which I referred.   W  tllus offers to me  a direct
clhallenge, not only before your Committee, but before the public, which I hereby accept.
57
0 
AN EARTIIQUAKE.
I, therefore, give you  notice that I shall prepare a fill and
detailed statecmIent ill accordance with the terms of yourt Committee's ilvitatioln to me, "to furnishl  such facts, as are within
my knowle(le," touching matters "w lichl compromlise the charactel' of Rev. IIenr- Warud Beeclher."  I slihall be ready to lay
tlhis before y-ou  witlin a week or ~cn (ldays, or as soon thereafter
as I sliall find i  myself able to set the inumerous facts andl(l evid(eicces ill such strict arraty as tlhat I (can cover them, each and(
all, with my oath to their exact truth, sworn before a magistrate.
I await the appointment of a day by you mutually convenient
for my l)presentation of this statement in p)erson before  your
Com-lnittee.
MIeanwhlile I shlall makle public my present note to you, because Mr.  Beechelr's  letter to wlichl  this is a preliminary
response has been made public by iimn.  With great respect,
I am truly yours,                           TIIEoI)OtRE TILTON.
There was a week of suspense and anxiety in Brooklyn and(
indeed throught,otit the country, not unmixed with curiosity as
to the nature of the offense which Mr. Tilton would chlarge
against Ilr. Beeclihe.  The journals daily contained columns of
sl)peculations and( interviews or alleged interviews with the l)iincil)al parties to the scandal, but they are not embodied lhere,the object of the compiler being to adhlere as closely as p)ossible to the published record.  Seven dayts after Mr. Tilton's
recognition of tlhec Committee lie al)l)ceared before them with his
chlarges, which Fratnk lMoulton llhad assisted him to prel)are,and
read( it to the l'lymoutlh  Cliur(li jury on the eveniln   g of July
2Otli.  The following day th      e document al)l)eared in full in the
iBrooklyn Arguts.  If the previous "True Story" was a tlhunlderbolt, this was an earthquake. People read it in utter astonisliment, Iand( fi'om  tlhat moment  MIir. Beecller's  rel)putttion
seemed  to be doomed for all timie.  But we will here give the
letter accoinpanying the statement as a preface, and the sworn
cliaiges filed:
"GEXNTLr.MN OF TITIE COMITTEFE:-In communicating to yout
the detailed statement of fac(ts of evi(lenc(es wiiliclo you have
been several (lays exl)ect,Og ait miy Illlds let, mie relnin(l you of
the circumsta'ces whiclh call this statement fortlh.
258 
AFFECTATION OF IGNO.RANCE..
"In my recent letter to Dr. Bacon I alluded to an offence
and an apolooy by the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.   To whomsoever else this allusion seemed indefinite, to MIr. Beecher it was
plain. The offence was committed by hin; the apology was
made by him; both acts were his own, and were among( the most
omentous occurrences of his life.  Of,ll men in Plymoutt
Church, or in the world, the Rev. IIenry Ward Beecher was the
one man who was best informed concerningi this offence and
aplolo-gy, and the one man who least needed to inquire into
either.
" Nevertheless, while possessing a perfect knowlecdge of both
these acts done by himself, he has chosen to put on a public
affectation of ignorance and innocence concerning them, and
has conspicuously appointed a committee of six of the ablest
men of his church, together with two attorneys, to inquire into
what he leaves you to regard as the unaccountable mystery of
this offence and apology; as if he had neither committed the
one nor offered the other; but as if both were the mere figments
of another man's imagrination-thus  adroitly prompting  the
public to draw the dcleduction that I am a person under some
hallucination or delusion, living in a dream and forging  a
fraud.
"Furthermore, in order to cast over this explanation the
delicate glamour which alwavs lends a charmn to the defence of
a woman's honor, MIrs. Elizabeth R. Tilton, lately my wife, has
been prompted away firom her home, to reside amonog  Mr.
Beeheler's firiends andcl to co-operate with him in his ostensibly
honest and laudable inquiry into facts concerningii which she
too, as well as he, has for years past had perfect and equal
knowledge with himself.
"The investigation, therefore, has been publicly pressed upon me by Mr. Beecher, seconded by Mrs. Tilton, both of whom,
in so doing, have united in assuming before the public the nonexistence of the grave and solemn facts into lwhichl they have
conspired to investigate, for the purpose not of eliciting, but
of (ldenying the truth.
" Thlis joint assumption by thlem, which has seemed to your
committee to be in good faithl, has naturally led you into an
examination in which y-ou expect to find, on their part, nothing
but innocence, and on my p)art nothing but slander.
It is now my unhalppy duty, firom  which I have in vain
hitherto sought earnestly to be'liver-ed, to give youL the facts
and evidences for reveisingol our opinion on this subject.
259 
NO SPACE FOR REPENVAiC-E.
"In dcloing this painful, I may say heartrendcling dluty, thle
resplonsibility for makling the grave disclosures whiech I am
al)out to lay before y-ou beloings not to me, but first to 3Ir.
Beecher, who has )pronpte(d y-ou to this examination, anid next
to AMrs. Tilton, who has joined him in a conspiracy which cannot fail to be full of peril anid w'Wretchledness to many liearts.
I call vou to witness that in mv first brief examination by
your committee I begged andcl implored you not to iinquire into
the facts of this case, but rather to seek to bury thlem beyond
all possible revelation.  Happy for all concerned  had this
elltreaty been heeded.  It is now too late.  The last opportunitv for reconciliation and settlement has passed.  This investigation, undertaken by you in ignorance of dclangers  against
which'ir. Beecher should have warned you in advance, will
shortly prove itself, to your surprise, to have been an act of
wanton and wicked folly, for which the Rev. Henrv Wnard
Beecher, as its originator ancd public sponsor, will hereafter
find no " space for repentance, though hle seek it carefuilly and
with tears."  This desperate man must hold lhimself only, and
not me, accountable for the wretchedness which these (iselosures will car-v to his own home anid hearth, as they have already
br(u3' lt to mine.
I will acdd that the original documents referred to in the
ensuing sworn statement are, for the most part, in my possession; but that the apology and a few other papers are in the
hands of 3Ir. Francis D. Mloulton.  Truly yours,
THiEODORE TILTON.
The charges are as follows:  "Whereas the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher has instigatedl the
appointment of a colmmittee consisting of six memnbers of his
churllch and society to inquire and report upon alleged aspersions
ull)on his character bv Theodore  Tilton;  and whereas  51rs.
Elizabeth R. Tilton, formerly the wife of iNIr. Tilton, has openly
deserted her lhomne in order to co-operate withl iMrs. Beecher in
a conspiracv to overthrow the credibility and good repute of
her late husband as a man and citizen; therefore, Theodore
Tilton being thus authorized and required, and by- the published
deman(l made upon him bv the Rev. Hecnr- Ward Beecher, and
being now atnd hereafter released by act of AIrs. Tilton fiom
ftirllther responsibility fotconcealment of the truth toulching her
relations with MIr. Beecher-tlherefore. Th-eo(ldorec Tilton hereby
sets forth, under solemn oath, the following facts and testimo ny: 
0
260 
TILTON'S C_ABGES.
First-That on the 2d of October, 1855, at Plymouth church,
Brooklyn, a marriage between Theo(lore Tilton andi( Elizabeth
MI. lRichar(ls was l)cirtornmed( by the Rev. ltenry War(l lieecher,
WhiCh marriage, thirteen years afterwar(l, was dishonored and
violated by this clergy-man through the criminal seduction of
this wife and imother, as hereinafter set forth.
Secotd(l-That for a period of about fifteen years, extending
both before and after this marriage,  an intimate  fr'iendship
existed between Theodore Tilton and the Rev. HIlenry VarIl
Beeclier, which firiend(lslip) was cemented to such a (ldegree tlhat
in consequence thereof the subsequent  (lislionorin(g  by  1ri.
1](eclier ot'f hlis fiien(l's wife was a crime of uncommon  wronofullhess and perfi(dy.
Third(-Tlhat about nine years  ago the Rev.  HIenry Ward
]3eeclier began, and thereafter continued, a frien(ldship with Mrs.
Elizabeth R. Tilton, for whose native delicacy and extreme
religiotis sensibilit he often expressed to her husband a   high
a(llmiration; visitinga her from time to time for years, until the
year 1870, whlen, for reasons hereinafter stated, hle ceased such
visits; during which period, by malny tokens  aniid attentions,
he won the affectionate love of Mrs. Tilton; whereby -tfter lob(g
moral resistance by her and after rel)peate(l assaults by him
upl)on lher iin d with overinasteriong aLi,umnents. accomnl)lished
the possession of her person; maintailling with her tlienceforward, diuring the period hereinafter stated, the relation called
criminal intercourse; this re ation being regaraded by her (ldiring(
tlhat period as not criminal or morally wrong-suich hld been
the I)ower of his argilitnets as a clergymnan to satisty her religiotiS scrlluples against such violation of virtue and( lioiior.
Fourth-Tlhat on the eveningo of October 10th, 1868, or thereaboutts, Mrs. Elizabeth R. Tilton held an interview with the
Rev. Henry- Ward Beeclier at his residence, she being, tlhen in
a tender state of min(l, owing to the recent death and burial of
a,young child; iand duringi this interview an  act of criminal
comnmerce tookl place between this pastor and this parishioner,
the motive on her part being, as hereinbefore stated, not regar(led
by her at the time criminal or wrong; which act was followed
by a similar act of criminality between tlhese same parties at
MiIr. Tilton's residence, duriing a pastoral visit paid by Mr.
Bceclier to her on the sub)se(quent Saturday eveniing, followed
a,lso l)v other similar acts on varies occasions firom the auttinin
of 186(S to the springr of 187Q, the places being the two  residences aforesaid, and occasionally other places to which her
0
261 
1HIS S TSPICIOINY.
pastor would invite and accompany her, or at which he would
meet her by previous applointmrent, tlhese acts of wrongl beinig
on her part, from first to last, not wanton or consciously
wiclked(l, but arisiing throughl a blinding of her moral perceptions,
occasioned by the powerful inflaence exerted on lher mind at
that time to this end by the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, as her
trusted religious preceptor and guide.
Fifth-TThat the pastoral visits made by the Rev..I-Ienry
Ward Beecher to aMrs. Tilton during the year 1858 became so
fre(uItent as to excite comment, being in marked contrast with
his known habit of making few pastoral calls on his parishoners,
which frequency in Mrs. Tilton's case is shown in letters written to lher husband (during his absence in the West, these letters
giving evidence that tduring the period of five or six weeliks
twelve (liftlerent pastoral calls on Mrs. Tilton were made by the
Rev. Henry Ward(l Beecher, which calls became noticeably infirequent on Mr. Tilton's return to his home.
Sixth-Tliat previous to the aforesaidl criminal intimacy one
of the reasons which Mrs. Tilton alleged for her encouragement
of such excel)tional attentions from  the Rev. Hlenry Ward
Beeclher was the fact that she hadl been much distressed with
ruminors against his moral  purity, an(l wished to convince him
that she coul(l receive his kindness an(l yet resist his solicitations; an(l that she could inspire in him, by her purity and
fi(lelity, an increased respect for the chaste dignity of womanl0oo(l.  Previous to the autumn of 1868 she maintained, with
Christian firmness towards her pastor this position of resistance,
always refusing his amorous pleas, -which were strong and oftrepeated; and in a letter to her husband, dated February 3d,
1868, she wrote as follows:-" To love is praiseworthy, but to
abuse the gift is sin.  Here I am strong.  No  demonstrations
or fascinations cotuld cause me to yield my womalnhood."
"Seventh-Tltat the first suspicion which crossed the mind
of Tlheo(dore Tilton that the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher was
I)tising, or might abuse, the aflection and reverence which Mrs.
Tilton bore towards her pastor, was an improper caress given
by Mr. Beechler to Mrs. Tilton by the  *  *  *  while seated
bv her side on the floor of his library overlooking engravings.
Air. Tilton, a few hours afterwards, asked of his wife an explanation of her permission of such a libl)erty, whereat she at
first deiied the fact, btit then confessed it, and said that she
had spoken clni(liyngl to Mr. Beecher concerning it.  On another occasion MIr. Tilton, after leaving, his house in the early
262
0 
MRS. TILTON CONOFFSSES.
morning, returned to it in the forenoon, and, on going to his
bedchamber, found the door locked, and when, on knockling,
the door was opened by Mrs. Tilton, Mr. Beecher was seen
within, apparently mutch confused, and exhibitingr a flushed
face.  Mrs. Tiltonii afterwards m,ade a'plautsible exl)lanation,
which, fiom the confidence reposed in her by her husband, was
bv him deemed satisfactory.
"Eighth-That in the spring of 1870, on Mr. Tilton's return
fi'om a winter's absence, lie noticed in his wife such evidences
of the absorption of her mind in Mr. B3eecher that in a short
time an estrangement took place between her husband  and
herself, in consequence of which she went into the country
earlier than usual for a summner sojourn. After an absence of
several weeks she voluntarily returned to her home in B1rooklyn.  On the evening of July 8th, 1870, when, and then and
there, within a few lhours after her arrival, and after exacting
fiom her husband a solemn promise that he would do the Rev.
IlHenrvy Ward Beecher no harm nor communicate to himn what
she was about to say, she made a circumstantial confession to
her husband of the criminal facts liereinbefore stated, accompanied(l  with citations from  Mr.  Beeclier's  arguments  and
reasonings with her to overcome her long maintained( scruple
against yielding to his desires, and declaring that she had committed no wrong to her husband or her marriage vow, quoting,
in support of this opinion, that her pastor had repeatedly
assured her that she was spotless and chaste, which she believed herself to be.  She further stated that her sexual commerce  with him  had never proceeded from low or  vulgar
thoughts either on her part or his, but always from pure afl'ection and a  high religious love.  She stated, furthermore, that
Mr. Beeclher habitually characterized their intimacy by the
termi  " nest hi(linTg," and he would suffer pain and sorrow if
his hidden secret were ever made known.   She said that her
mind was often burdened by the deceit necessary for her to
practice in ordcer to prevent dliscovery, and that her conscience
had many times impelled her to throw off this burden of enforced falsehood by making a full confession to her husband,
so that she  would no longer be liing before him a perpetual
lie.  In particular she said that she had been on the point of
makilng this confession  a few dnonthlis  previously, clduring a
severe illness, when she feared she might dclie. She affirmed
also that Mr. Beecher had assured her repeatedly that he loved
her better than hlie had ever loved any other woman, and she
263 
TILTON CONDO-YES THE WPbYONG.
felt justifiedl before God in her intimacy witih hlim, save the
nc(.essary deceit which accompanied it, and at which she frequently suffered in her mind.
, Niitth-That after the above-named confession by MIrs.
FElizabeth R. Tilton she returned to the country to await such
action bv her husband as hlie might see fit to take, whereupon,
after many considerations, the chief of vhich was that she had
not voluntarily gone astray, but had been artfully misled,
thirough religiouts reverence for the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher
as her spiritual guide, togethler also from a desire to protect
the family from open shame, Mr. Tilton condoned the wrong,
and lie addressed to his wife such letters of affection, tenderncss and respect as hlie felt would restore her wounded spirit,
anId which did partially produce that result.
Tenth-lThat in December, 1870, differences arose between
Theodore Tilton and Henry C. Bowen, which were augmented
by the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher and Mrs. Beecher; in consequence whereof and at the wish of Mrs. Elizabeth R. Tilton,
expressed in writing in a paper put into the hands of Mr.
Francis D. Moulton, with a view to procure a harmonious interview between Mr. Tilton and Mr. Beecher, such an interview
was arran,ged and carried out by Mr. Moulton at his then residence on Clinton street; Mr. Beecher and Mr. Tilton, meeting
and speaking then and there lor the first time since Mrs. T'ilton's confession of six months before.   The  paper in Mr.
MIoulton's hands was a statement by Mrs. Tilton of the substance of the confession which she had before made and of her
wish and prayer for reconciliation and peace between her pastor and her husband.  This paper furnished to Mr. Beecher
the first kinowledge which he had as yet received that Mrs.
Tilton had made such a confession.  At this interview between
Mir. Beechler and Mr. Tilton permission was  sought by Mr.
Beechler to consult with Mrs. Tilton on that same  evening.
This permission being grantedcl, Mr. Beecher departed from Mr.
MIoulton's house, and in about half an hour returned thither
expressing his remorse and shame, and declariong that his life
and work seemed brought to a sudden end.  Later in the same
evening iMr. Tilton, on returning to his house, found his wife
weeping and in great distress, saying that what she had meant
for peace had only given pain and anguish; that Mr. Beecher
had just called on her, declaring that she had slain him, and
that lie would prolbly be tried before a council of ministers
unless she would give him a written paper for his protection.
261
6 
ELIZABETH'S LETTEIRS.
Whereupon she said he dictated to her, and she copied in her
own handwriting, a suitable paper for him to use to clear himself before a council of ministers. Mrs. Tilton having kept no
copy of this paper her husband asked her to make a distinct
statement in writing of her design anl meaning in giving it,
whereupon she wrote as follows:
DECEMBER 30th, 1870-Midnight.
MY DEAR HUSBAND:-I desire to leave with you, before going to bed, a
statement that Mr. Henry Ward Beecher called upon me this evening and
asked me if I would defend him against any accusation in a council of ministers, and I replied, solemnly, that I would, in (case the accuser was any
other person than my husband.  He (H. W. B.) dictated a letter, which I
copied as nmy own, to be used by him as against any other accuser except
my husband. This letter was designed to vindicate Mr. Beecher against
all other persons save only yourself. I was ready to give him this letter
because he said with pain that my letter in your hands addressed to him,
dated December 29th, "had struck him dead and ended his usefulness."
You and I are pledged to do our best to avoid publicity. God grant a
speedy end to all further anxieties.  Affectionately,      ELIZABPTH.
"On  the next day, namely, December 31st, 1870, Mr. Moulton, on  being  informed  by  Mr. Tilton of the  above-named
transaction by Mr.  Beecher, called on  him (MIr. Beecher) at
his residence and told him that a reconciliation seemed suddenly made impossible by Mr. Beeclhe's nefarious act in procurilng
the letter which  Mrs. Tilton had thus been improperly persuadced to make  falsely.  Mr. Beecher, through  MrA. Moulton,
returned the letter to MIr. Tilton, with an expression of shame
and sorrow for having procured it in the mainner he did.   The
letter was as follows:
DECEMBER 30th, 1870.
WIearied with importunity and weakened by sickness, I gave a letter implicating my friend Henry Ward Beecher under assurance that it would
remove all difficulties between me and my husband. That letter I now
revoke.  I was persuaded to it-almost forced-when I was in a weakened
state of mind.
I regret and recall all its statements.
E. R. TILTON.
I desire to say explicitly, Mr. Beecher has never offered any improper
solicitation, but has always treated me in a manner becoming a Chlristian
and a gentleman.                                ELIZABETH R. TILTON.
At the time of Mr. Beecher's returning the above document
12
0
265 
TRUSTED TO MOUL TY.
to Mir. Tilton through MIr. Moulton, Mr. Beecher requested WrI
Moulton to call at his residence, in Columbia Street, on thnext lday-, which hlie did on the evening of January 1st, S1871.  A
long interview then ensued, in which ZMr. Beecher expressed to
Mr. Moulton great contrition and remorse for his previous
criminality witlh  Iis. Tilton, taking to himself shame for lhaying misused his sacred office as a clergyman to corrupt her
mind; expressing a determination to kill himself in case of exposure, and begging Mr. Moulton to take a pen and receive
from his (Mr. Beechler's) lips an apology to be conveyed to Mr.
Tilton, in the hope tltt such an appeal would secure Mr. TiltoI's forgiveness.  The apology which Mr. Beecher dictated
to IMr. Moulton was as follows:
Y DI)EAR FRIEND MOULTON:-I ask, through you, Theodore Tilton's
forgiveness, and I humble myself before him as I do before my God.   lIe
would have been a better man in my circumstances than I have been. I
can ask nothing, except that hlie will renmember all the other breasts that
would ache.  I will not I)plead for myself.  I even wish that I were dead.
But others must live to suffer. I will die before any one but myself shall
be inculpated. All my thoughts are running out toward my fiiends, and
toward the poor child lying there, and praying, with her folded hands.
She is guiltless, sinned against, bearing the transgression of another.
1ier forgiveness I have. I humbly pray to God to put it into the heart Qf
her husband to forgive me.
I have trusted this to Moulton, in confidence.
H. W. BEECHER.
In the above document, the last sentence and the signature
are in the handwriting of the Rev. Henry Ward( Beecher.
Eleventh-That Mrs. Tilton wrote the following letter to a
friend:
No. 174 LIVINGSTON STREET,?
BRO()OKIYN, Jan. 5th, 1871.   5
DEAR FRIEND:-A cruel conspiracy has been formed against mny liusband, in which my mother and Mrs. Beecher have been the chief actors.
*  *  *                                  Yours truly,
ELIZABETH R. TILTON.
Twelfth —That in the following month MATr. Moulton, wishing
to bind Mr. Tilton and -AA. Beeclher by mutual expressions of
good spirit, elicited from them the following correspondence:
2C6
4 
BEECHER TO MOULTON.
MR. TILTON TO MR. MOULTON.
BROOKLYN, Feb. 7th, 1871.
MY DEAR FRIEND:-In several conversations with you, you have asked
about my feelings toward Mr. Beecher; and yesterday you said the time
had come when you would like to receive iroml me an expression of this
kind in writing.
1 say, therefore, very cheerfully, that, notwithstanding the great suffering which lie has caused to Elizabeth and myself, I bear him no nialice,
shall do him no wrong, shall discountenance every project (by whomsoever
proposed) for any exposure of his secret to the public, and (if I know myself at all) shall endeavor to act toward Mr. Beecher as I would have him
in similar circumstances act toward me.
I ought to add that your own good offices in this case have led me to a
higher moral feeling than I might otherwise have reached.
Ever yours, affectionately,
TO FRANK MOULTON.TEORE
On the same day Mr. Beecher wrote to Mr. Moulton the
following:
MR. BEECHER TO MR. MOULTON.
FEBRUARY 7th, 1871.
MY DEAR FRIEND MOULTON:-I am glad to send you a book, etc.
*        *         *         *         *        *
Many, many friends has God raised up to me, but to no one of them has
He ever given the opportunity and the wisdom to serve me as you have.
You have also proved Theodore's friend and Elizabethl's. l)oes God
look down from heaven on three unhappier creatures that more need a
friend than these?  Is it not an intimation of God's intent of mercy to all,
that each one of these has in you a tried and proved friend? But only in
you are we thus united. Would to God, who orders all hlearts, that by His
kind mediation Theodore, Elizabeth and I could be made friends again.
Theodore will have the hardest task in such a case; but has lie not proved
himself capable of the noblest things?
I wonder if Elizabeth knows how generously he has carried himself toward
me? Of course I can never speak with her again without his permission,
and I do not know that even then it would be best. * * *
Mr. Moulton, on the same day, asked Mr. Tilton if he would
permit Mr. Beecher to address a letter to Mrs. Tilton, and Mr.
Tilton replied in the atlirmative, thereupon Mr. Beeclher wrote
as follows:
e
e
267
To FRANK MOULTON.
TIIEODORF. 
CATIIARINE GAUNT.
MR. BEECHER TO MRS. TILTON.
BItOOKLvy, Feb. 7th, 1871.
MY DEAR MRS. TILTON:-Whlen I saw you last I did not expect ever to
see you again, or to be alive many days.  God was kinder to nme than were
ny own thoughts.  The friend whom God sent to me, Mr. Moulton, has
proved, above all friends that I ever had, ablle and willing to help me in
this terrible emergency of my life. Ilis hand it was that tied up the storm
that was ready to burst on our heads.
You have no friend (Theodore excepted) who has it in his power to
serve you so vitally, and who will do it with such delicacy andI honor.
It does my sore heart good to see in Mr. Moulton an unfeigned respect
and honor for you. It would kill me if I thought otherwise. Hle will be
as true a friend to your honor and happiness as a brother could be to a
sister's.
In him we have a common ground.  You and I may meet in him.  The
past is ended.  But is there no future?-no wiser, higller, liolier, future?
May not this friend stand as a priest in the new sanctuary of reconciliation,
and mediate and bless Theodore and my most unhappy self? 1)o not let
my earnestness fail of its end.  You believe in my judgtimett.  I have put
myself wholly and gladly in Moulton's hand; and there I iiiust meet you.
This is sent with Theodore's consent, but hlie has not read it. Will you
return it to me by his own hand? I am very earnest in this wish for all
our sakes, as such a letter ought not to be subject to even a chance of niscarriage.  Your unhappy friend.                         II. W. BEc:cIIE:.
Thirteenth-TThat about a year after Mrs. Tilton's confession
her mind remained in the fixed opinion that her eiciminnal relations witlh Mr. Beecher had not been morally wrong, so strongly had he impressed her to the contrary; but at lengthl a change
took place in her convictions on this subject, as noted in the
following letter addressed by her to her husband:
MRS. TILTON TO MR. TILTON.
SCHIOIARIE, June 29tih, 1871.
MY DEAR TrHEODORE.-To-day, through the ministry of Catherine Gaunt,
a character of fiction, iiiy eyes have been opened for the first time in my
experience, so that I see clearly my sin. It was when I knew that I was
loved, to suffer it to grow to a passion. A virtuous woman should check
instantly an absorbing love.  But it appeared to me in such false light.
That the love I felt and received could harm no one, not even you, I have
believed unfalteringly, until four o'clock this afternoon, when the heavenly
vision dawned upon me.  I se now, as never before, the wrong I have
done you, and hasten inmediately to ask your pardon, with a penitence
268
0 
ACARD IN THE "WORLD."'
so sincere that henceforth (if reason remains) you may trust me implicitly.
Oh, my dear Theodore! though your opinions are not restful or congenial
to liy soul, yet nliy own integrity and purity arc sacred and holy things to
me.   Bless  God,  with me, for Catherine Gaunt, and for all the sure
leadings of an atll-wise and loving Providence.  Yes, now I feel quite prepared to renew niy marriage vow with you, to keep it as  the Savior
requireth, who looketli aL the eye and the heart.  Never before could I say
this. When you yearn towards ine with true feeling, be assured of the
tried, purified and restored love of                          ELIZABETH.
Mrs. Tilton followed the above letter with these:
MRS. TILTON TO MR. TILTON.
July 4th, 1871.
Oh, my dear husband! may you never need the discipline of being misled by a good woman as I was by a good man.
[No date.]
I would mourn greatly if my life was to be made known to father. IHis
head would be bowed indeed to the grave.
[No date.]
I)o not think my ill health is on account of my sin and its discovery.
My sins and life-record I have carried to iiiy Savior. No; my prostration is owing to the suffering I have caused you.
Fourteenth-That  about one year  after Mrs. Tilton's conf(ession, and about a half year after Mr. Beeclher's confirmation
of the same, Mrs. V.  C.  Woodhull, then  a total stranger to
Mr. Tilton, save that he had been presented to her in a cornl)any of friends a few days previous, wrote in the World, Monday, AIay 22d, 1871, the following statement, namely:
I know of one man, a public teacher of eminence, who lives in concubinage with the wife of another public teacher of almost equal eminence.
All thlree concur in denouncing offences against morality.  I shall make it
my business to analyze some of these lives.
VICTORIA C. WOODHULL.
NEW YORK, May, 20tlh, 1871.
On the d(lay of the publication of the above card in the World,
Mr. Tilton received from iMrs. Woodhull a req(luest to call, on
imiperative business, at her office; and on going thither, a copy
ot the above card was put into his hand by Mrs. Woodhull,
who said that " the parties referred to therein were the Rev.
Henry Ward Beechler and the wge of Theodore Tilton."  Following this announcement, Mlrs Woodhull detailed to  Mr.
269 
270     HENIV'S PHILOSOPHY CARPIED OUT.
Tilton, with vehement speech, the wickled and injurious story
which she published in the year following.  Meanwhile, Mri.
Tilton, desiring to guard( against any possible temptation to
MIrs. Woodhull to publish the grossly distorted version which
she gave to Mr. Tilton (and which she afterwards attributed to
him), he sought by many personal services and kindly attentions to influence her to such a good will towards himself and
family as would remove all disposition or desire in her to
afflict him with such a publication.  Mr. Tilton's efforts and
association with Mrs. Woodhull ceased in April, 1872, and six
months afterwards-namely, November 2d, 1872-she published
the scandal which he had labored to suppress.
XV. That on the third day thereafter, the Rev. Thomas K.
Beecher, of Elmira, N. Y., wrote as follows:
ELMIRA, November 5thi, 1871.
Mrs. Woodhull only carries out Ihenry's philosophy, against which I
recorded my protest twenty years' ago.
XVI. That in May-, 1873, the publication by one of Mr.
Beecher's partners of a tripartite covenant between  H. C.
Bowen, H. W. Beecher, and Theodore Tilton, led the press of
the country to charge that Mr Tilton had committed against
Mr. Beecher some heinous wrong, which Mr. Beecher had pardoned; whereas the truth was the reverse.  To remedy this
false public impression, Mr. Moulton requested Mr. Beecher to
prel)are a suitable card, relievii(g Mr. Tilton of this injustice.
In answer to this request Mr. Beecher pleaded his embarrassments, which prevented his saying anything without bringing
himself under suspicion.  Mr. Tilton then proposed to prepare
a card of his own, containing a few lines firom the recently quoted al)ology, for the purpose of showing that Mr. Beecher, instead of having( had occasion to forgive Mr. Tilton, had had
occasion to be forgiven by him.  Mr. Beecher then wrote a letter to iMr. Moulton, which, on being shown to Mr. Tilton, was
successful in appealing to fMr. Tilton's ifeelings.  Mr. Beecher
said in it, under date of Sunday morning, June 1st, 1873
Mfy Dear Firank:
I am determined to make no more resistance. Theodore's temperament
is suchl that the future, even if temporarily carned, would be absolutely
worthless, and rendering me liable ait any hour of thlle day to be obliged to
stultify all the devices b)y whii we saved ourselves.  It is only fair that
he slhould know tlihat thl publication of tlhe card whlich he proposes  would
leave himn worse off thllan before.  The agreement [viz., the " tripartite cov
0 
OLIVER JOHNSON SPEAKS..
enant "] was made after my letter through you to him [viz., the " apology"]
was written. He had had it a year. He had condoned his wife's faults.
.ie hlad enjoined up )n me, with the utmost earnestness and solemnity, not
to betray his wife, nor leave his children to a blight  *  *  *  *  With
such a man as T. T., there is no possible salvation for any that depend
up'n him. With a strong nature, he does not know how to govern it, *
*  *  *  There is no use in trying further.  I have a strong feeling upon
me, and( it brings great peace, that I am spending my last Sunday, and
preaching my last s - nion.
The hopelessness of spirit which the foregoing letter  portrayedl on the part of its writer, led Mir. Tilton to reconsider
the question of defending himself at the cost of producing misery to Mr. Beecher; which determination by Mr. Tilton to allow
the prevailing calumnies against himself to go unanswered,
was further strengthened by the following note received by
him two days thereafter, from the office-editor of Mr. Beecher's
journal: Oliver Johnson:
128 EAST TWELrTU STREET, June 4th, 1873.
JAy Dear Theodore:
May I tell you frankly that when I saw you last, you did not seenm to
me to be the noble young man who inspired my warm affection so many
years ago.  You were yielding to an act which I could not help thinking
would be dishonorable and perfidious; and although it is easy for me to
make every allowance for the circumstances that had wrought you to such
a frenzy, I was dreadfully shocked. My dear Theodore, let me as -an old
friend, whose heart is wrung by your terrible suffering and sorrow, tell
you that you were then acting ignobly, and that you can never hlave true
peace of mind till you conquer yourself and dismiss all purpose and thought
of injuring the man who has wronged you.  Of all the promises our lips
can frame, none are so sacred as those we make to those who have injured
us, and whom we have professed to forgive; and they are sacred just in
proportion as their violation would work injury to those to whom they al'e
made. You cannot paint too blackly the wrongs you have suffered. On
that point, I make no plea in abatement; but I beg you to remember that
nothing can change the law which makes forgiveness noble and God-like.
I have prayed for you night and day, with strong crying and tears,
beseeching God to restrain you from wronging yourself by violating your
solemn engagements.  To-night I am happy in the thought that you have
been preserved from committing the act which I so much dreaded.
In a letter written by Mr. Bchier, in order to be shown to
MIr. Tilton, Mr. Beecher spoke as follows:
271
0 
SHARP, RAGaGED EDGE OF ANXIETY.
MR. BFFCHER TO MR. MOULTON.
No man can sec the difficulties that environ Inme, unless he stands where
I do.  To say tlhat I have a Clhurcli on mly hands is simple enough, but to
have the hundreds and thousands of men pressing me, each one  with his
keen suspicion, or anxiety, or zeal; to see the tendencies which, if not
stopped would break out into a ruinous defence of me; to stop them without seemning to do it; to prevent any one questioning me; to meet and
allay prejudices against T. which had their beginnings years before; to keep
serene as if I was not alarmed or disturbed; to be cheerful at home and
:ulong friends when I was suffering the torments of the damned; to pass
sleepless nights often, and yet to conme up fresh and fair for Sunday-all
this may be talked about, but the real thing cannot be understood from
the outside, nor its wearing and grinding on the nervous system."
In still another letter, written for the same purp)ose as the
above, Mr. Beecher said:
MR. BEIECIIER TO MR. MOULTON.
"If my destruction would place him (Mr. Tilton) all right, that shall
not stand in the way, I anm willing to step down and out.  No one can offer
more than that.  That I do offer.  Sacrifice me without hesitation, if you
can clearly see your way to his safety and happiness  thlereby.  In one
point of view, I could desire the sacrifice on my part.  Nothing can possibly be so bad as the p)wer of great darkness in which I spend much of my
time. I look upon death as sweeter far than any friend I have in the
world.  Life would be pleasant if I could see that rebuilt which is slhattered.  But to live on tlhe sharp and ragged edge of anxiety, remorse, fear,
despair, and yet to put on all appearance of serenity and happiness, cannot
be endured nmuclh longer. I am well nigh discouraged. If you cease to
trust me, to love me, I ani alone.  I do not know any person in the world
to whom I could go."
Mr. Tilton yielded to the above-quoted and other similar letters, and
made no defence of himnself against the public odium which attached to him
unjustly.
XVII.  That the marriage union between Mr. and Mrs. Tilton,
until broken by Mr. Beechier, was of more than common harmony-, afifection, and mutual respect. Their home and liousellold
werle regoarded for y-ears, by all their guests, as an ideal  home.
As evid(lence of tlie feeling and spirit which this wife entertained for her husband, up) to the time of her corruption by Mr.
Beecher, the following leters 1)V Mrs. Tilton, written only.a
few monolths before hoti loss of honor, will testify-:
2 i2
0 
ELIZABEI'tH'S LOVEFOR THEODORE.
MRs. TILTON TO MR. TILTON.
TUESDAY MORNING, January 28th, 1868.
My Beloved:
Don't you know the peculiar phase of Christ's character as lover is precious to me, because of my consecration anddevotion to you?  I learn to
love you from my love to Him.  I have learned to love Him from my love
to you. I couple you with Him. Nor do I feel it one whlit irreverent,
And as every day I adorn myself, consciously, as a bride to meet her
brideg-oom, in like mannier, I lift imploring hands that mily soul's love may
be prepared. I, with the little girls after you led us with overflowing eyes
and hearts, consecrated ourselves to our work and to you. My waking
thoughts last night were of you.  My rising thoughts this morning were of
you. God sustain us, and help us both to keep our vows.
MRS. TILTON TO MR. TILTON.
SATURDAY EVENING, Feb. 1st, 1868.
Oh! well I know, as far as I am capable, I love you. Now to keep this
fire high and generous, is the ideal before me. I am only perfectly contented and restful when you are with me. These latter months I have
thought, looked, and yearned for the hour when you would be at home,
with longings unutterable.
MRS. TILTON TO MR. TILTON.
MONDAY, Feb. 3d, 1868.-9 o'clock A. M.
What mnay I bring to my beloved, this bright morning?  A large, throbbing heart full of love, single in its aimi and purpose to bless and cheer
him? Is it acceptable, sweet one?
MRS. TILTON TO MR. TILTON.
MONDAY MORNING, February 24th, 1868.
Do you wonder that I couple your love, your presence and relation to
me, with the Savior's? I lift you up sacredly, and keep you in that exalted and holy place where I reverence, respect, and love with the fervency
of my whole being.
Whatever capacity I have, I offer it to you. The closing lines of your
letter are these:  "I shall hardly venture again upon a great friendshipyour love shall be enough for the remaining days."  That word "enough,"
seems a stoicism on which you have resolved to live your life-but I pray
God he will supply you with friendships pure, and with wifely love which
your great heart demands, withholding not Himself as the Chief Love
which consumeth not, though it burn, and whose effects are always perfect
rest and peace.
Again, in one of your letters, you close with:  "Faithfully yours."
12*
273
0 
SHE - YE VER SOUGHT A SEPARAT TION.
That word faithful means a great deal. Yes, darling, I believe it, trust it,
and give you the same surety with regard to myself. I am faithful to you,
have been always, and shall forever be, world without end.  Call not thiis
assurance impious; there are some things we know.  Blessed be God!
MRS. TILTON TO MR. TILTON.
HOME, February 28th, 1868.?
SATUR'DAY EvN,NING.:
Ahl! did man ever love so grandly as my Beloved? Other friendships, public affairs, all "fall to naught" when I come to you.  Though
you are in Decorah, to-night, yet I have felt your love, and am very grateful for it. I had not received a line since Monday, and was so hungry and
lonesomne that I took out all your letters and indulged myself as at a feast,
but without satiety. And now I long to pour out, into your heart, of my
abundance. I am conscious of three jets to the fountain of my soul-to
the Great Lover and yourself-to whom as one I am eternally wedded; my
children, and the dear friends who trust and love me.  I do not want
another long separation. Wiiile we are in the flesh, let us abide togethler.
MRS. TILTON TO MR. TILTON.
WEDNESDAY, MORN., March, 1868.
Ohi! how almost perfectly could I minister to you, this Winter-lmy
heart glows so perpetually! I aln conscious of great inward awakening
toward you. If I live, I shall teach my children to begin their loves,
where now I am. I cannot conceive of anything more delicious than a
life consecrated to a faithful love.  I insist that I miss you more than you
do me; but soon I shall see my beloved.
YoUR OwN DEAR WIFE.
In addition to the above, many other letters by IMrs. Tilton
to her husband prior to her corruption by Mr. Beecher, served
to show that a Christian wife, loving her husband to the extreme
degree above set forth, could only have been swerved from the
path of rectitude by artful and powerful persuasions, clothed
in the phrases of religion, and enforced by strong appeals from
her chief Christian teacher and guide.
XVIII. That the story purporting to explain Mr. Beecher's
apology as having been written because lie had offended Mr.
Tilton by engaging his wife in the project of a separation from
her husband, is false; as mill be seen by the following letter
written only three days after the date of the apology:
e~~~~~~~n
21-i 
MRS. TILTON CIPICULATES T:HE SCAVDAL.   275
MRS. TILTON TO MR. MOULTON.
174 LIVINGsTON STREIT, BROOrKLYN,    }
January, 4thi, 1871.
Mr. Francis D. Moulton:
MY 1)EAR FRIENDI)-In regard to your iiestion whether I have ever
soughlt a separation from my husband, I indignantly deny that such  was
everC the fact, as I have denied it a hundred titmes before.  The story that I
wanted a separation was a deliberate falsehood coined by my poor mother,
who said she would bear the responsibility of this and other statements she
might make, and communicated to my husband's enemy,  Mrs.  H-.  W.
Beecher, and by her communicated to Mr. Bowen. Ifeel outraged by the
whole proceeding, and am now suffering in consequence more than I am
able to bear. I am yours, very truly,
ELIZABETII R. TILTON.
XIX. That during the first week in January, 1871, a few
days after the apology was written, Mr. Beecher communicated
to Mr. Tilton, through Mr. Moulton, an earnest wish that he
(Mr. Tilton) would take his family to Europe and reside there
for a term of years, at Mr. Beechlier's expense.  Similar offers
have been since rel)eated by NMr. Beecher to Mr. Tilton thriouo-h
the same channel.  A message of kindred tenor was brought
fronm MAr. Beecher to Mr. Tilton, last summer, by Mr. F. B.
Carpenter, as will appear firom the following affidavit:
HOMER, N.Y., July 18th, 1874.
On Sunday, June 1st, 1873, two days after the surreptitious publication
of the tripartite covenant between 1t. W.  Beecher, II. C. Bowen,  and
Theodore Tilton, I walked  with Mr. Beeclher from Plymouthl  Church to
the residence of Mr. F. D. Moulton, in Remsen street. On the way to
Mr. Mioulton's house, Mr. Beecher said to me if Mr. Tilton would stand
by himi hlie would share his famnie, his fortune, and everything he possessed
witlh himi (Tilton).                              FRANCIS B. CARPENTER.
Sworn to and subscribed before me, this 18th day of July, 1874.
WILLIAM T. HIICKiOK, Notary Public.
Mr. Carpenter,  in comnmunicating  to  Mtr. Tilton the above
affidavit, says, in a letter accompainying it:
I have no hesitation in giving you the statement, as I understood at the
time that it was for me to repeat in substance to you, and I did so repeat
it. It was at this interview Mr. Beecher spoke to me of his apology to
you.
The charge that Mr.'Tilton ever attempted to levy black
0
,,-i
a 
SHE HAD PANGS OF' CONSCIENCE.
mail on Mr. Beecher, is false; on the contrary, Mr. Tilton has
always resente(d every attempt by Mr. Beecher to put him under
pecunliary obligation.
XX.   Not long( after the scandal became public, Mrs. Tiltoil wrote on a slip) of paper, and ieft onl her husband's writingdesk, the following words -:
Now that the exposure has comne, my whole nature revolts to join with
you or standing witllh you.
Through the influence of Mr. Beecher's friends, the opinion
has long been diligently propagated that the scandal was due
to Mr. Tilton, an(d that the alleged facts were malicious inventions by him  to revenge himself for supposed and imaginary
wrongs done to him  by M r. Beecher.  Many  words  were
spoken firom time to time by Mrs. Tilton to the praise and
eulogy of Mr. Beecher, which, being extensively quoted through
his congregation, heighltened the impression that Mr. Tilton was
fir. Beecher's slanderer, Mrs. Tilton being herself the authority
for the statement.  In this way Mrs. Tilton and one of her
relatives lhave been the chief causes of the great difficulty of
stul)pressing the scandal.   They have had a habit of saying,
Mr. Tilton believes such and such things; " and their naming
of these thllings by way of denial has been a mischievous way
of circulating  them broadcast.  In this way, Mr. Tilton has
been made to apl)ear a defamer, whereas he has made every
efilort in his power to suppress the injurious tales which he has
been charged with propagoatiug.  On all occasions, he has systematically referred to his wife in terms favorable to her
character.
Furtlher, Mr. Tilton would not have communicated to the
Committee the facts contained in this statement, excel)t for the
perverse COlulrse of the Rev. HIlenr  Warid  Beecher and  Mrs.
Elizabeth R. Tilton, to degradcle and destroy him in the public
estimation.
XXI.   That one evening, about two weeks after the publication of Mr. Tilton's letter to Dr. Bacon,  Mrs. Tilton, on
comning home at a late hour, informed her hlusband that she had
been visited at a filiend's house by a committee of investigation,
and had given sweceping evidence acquitting Mr. Beecher of
every charge.  This was the first intimation which Mr. Tilton
received that any such (mmittee was then in existence.
Furthermore, Mrs. Tilton stated that she had done this by
advice of a lawyer, whom MIr. Beecher had sent to her, and
2 i-6
0 
IN C(OCL USION.
who, in adlvance of her appearing before the Committee,
arranged with her the questions and answers whiclh were to
constittite her testimony inili Mr. Beecher's behalf.  On the next
day, after giving this untrue testiniotiy befoie the Comnlmittee,
she spent many hours of extreme sufcriing firom pangs of conscience at having testified falsely.  She exl)ressed to her lusban(l the hope that God would forgive her )perjury, but that the
motiv-e was to save Mlr. Beeclher and her husband, and also to
remove all reproach fiom the cause of religion.  She also expressed similar contrition to one of her intimate fi'iends.
XXII.  Finally, that in addition to the foregoingr facts and
evidences, other confirmations could be adduced, if nceeled, to
prove the followingr recapitulated statemenct, namely, thnt the
Rev. Henry Ward Beeclher, as pastor and firicend of Mr. Tilton
and his family, trespassed upon the sanctity of friendship an(l
hospitality in a long endeavor to seduce Mrs. Elizabeth R.
Tilton; that by the artful use of his priestly authority with
her, she being his pupil in religion, he accomplished this se(duction; that for a period of a year and a half, or thereabout, lie
maintained criminal intercourse with her, overcoming her previous modest scruples against such conduct by investi(ng it
with a falsc justification as sanctioned by love and eligion;
that lie tlhen participated in a conspiracy to Tdcgr'de Te odore
Tilton before the public, by loss of place, business and rel)tlte
that he abused Mr. Tilton's forgiveness and l)le(l(de of 1)1otection by thereafter authorizing a series of measures by Ilymouth Church having for their object the puttino of a stiogm.a
upon Mlr. Tilton before the Church, and also belore an Ecclesiastical Council, insomuch that the moderator of that Council,
interpreting these acts by Mr. Beecher and his Church, declared
that they showed Mr. Beecher to be the most im1agnanilimous of
mlnen, and Mr. Tilton to be a. knave and dogr; that when Mr.
Tilton thereafter, not in malice but for self-protection, wrote a
letter to Dr. Bacon, alludingi therein to an oflence and apology
by th-e Rev. Henry Ward Beehelir, lie (Mr. Bccher) (defianltly
al)ppointed a commnittee of his Church members to inquire into
the injury done him by Mr. Tilton by the aforesaid allusion,
and imply.ing that lie (.NIr. lieoclier) had never been tlhe authlor
of such offence and apology, and that Mr. Tilton was a slanderer; that to make this inquiry- bear grievously a(gainst Mr.
'lilton, he (Mr. Beecher) pleimously connived with Mrs. E. R.
'I'ilton to give false tetimony in his (MIr. Beeclier's) behalf;
that MAr. Beecher's course toward Il1r. Tilton aud family has at
2,-7
0 
TIL lON'S LETT'E?S.
last resulted in the open destruction of Mr. Tilton's household
and home, and in the desolation of his heart and life.
TlHEOI)ORE TILTOX.
Sworn to before me this 20th clday of July, 1874.
TIIEO. BURGMYER, Notary Public.
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Respectfully,                  THEODORE TILTON.
The surreptitious publication of this document that Mr. T.
278 
TIL I'ON 10 MAVERICK.'
had assured the committee would not be published by him,
naturally created indignation on the part of Mr. Tilton, and
he at once took the course indicated in the following card, publisled in the Brooklyn Argus on the 22d:
It is a time for every person connected with this scandal to
take the just responsibility that belongs to him-I want to
take mine.  And, in order that I may take it fully, I here(with
print a note which I have this morning received from my friend
Theodore Tilton:
WEDNESDAY, July 22.
My Dear Maverick:
From no other person save either yourself, as my copyist, or from the
committee's short-hand writer, or fronm some member of the committee,
could my sworn statement have got into print. My heart is bowed and
bleeding at seeing these facts spread before the world.  Tell me how
could you have taken such a fearful, dreadful, horrible responsibility without consulting me in advance? There now remains no possibility of
peace or silence-nothing but everla.sting woe.  Explain yourself-you
must do it, both to me and to the public.  Yours in grief,
THEODORE TILTON.
I will answer, not only to Air. Tilton, but to the public.
I was the groomisman of Mr. Tilton at his marriage in 1855,
and I have been his friend ever since. Last Saturday, feeling
that I might render him some service in the preparation of his
defenise to the committee, I called at his home. He was wearied
and worn with copying papers, saying that he must do it himself, for he could not trust the facts to an amanuensis.  I then
offered to copy for him, in a clear round hand, his statement,
that he might get a chance to rest and sleep.   In doing this
work for an old friend I became so thoroughly struck with the
perfection of his defense that I felt sure it would carry the
public, and told him so.  He then replied that he never meant
the public to see it, and it was in vain that I attempted to convince him of the necessity of its publication. As one of his
stanch friends, loving and knowing  him  to be a long-abused
man, and that he still shrunk from hurting others in order to
shield himself, I resolved that this defense should be published,
and I published it. I did so without his knowledge or consent.  And I did right-anid stand by the act, as an act of justice to a man who has been wonged, and to a community that
has a right to know allthe facts.
AUGUSTUS MAVERICK.
BROOKLYN, July 22d, 1874.
279
0 
CIIAPTER XII.
ALLEGED CROSS-EXAMINATION OF MR. TILTON AND HIS DENIAL
OF THE WORLS PUT INTO HIS MOUTH-I  ENRY WARD BEECH  ER'S DEFENCE-HIS RELATIONS TO MRS. TILTON WERE ONLY
SUCH AS COULD BE ENTERTAINED:BY A PURE MINDED
WOMAN, BUT HE DID CAUSE A SOCIAL CATASTROPHE —MRS.
TILTON'S SWEEPING DENIAL —HER OWN GRAPHIC STORY OF
HER DOMESTIC TROUBLE, HER RELATIONS TO AND AFFECT[ON
FOR HER PASTOR-MR. TILTON INTERVIEWED-HIS THREAT TO
DRAW A TWO-EDGED SWORD, AND ) OFFERS TO GO INTO COURT,
EITHER AS PLAINTIFF OR I)EFENDANT-GENERAL BUTLER'S
ADVICE, AND A SIGNIFICANT HERALD  ED)ITORItIAL-MR.
JAMIlS M'DERMIOTT DECLARES HE HOLDS D)AMAGING TESTI MONY AND DOCUMENTS-EVII)ENCE IN EXISTENCE THAT THE
DECEASED WIFE OF HENRY C. 1BOWEN WAS DISHONORED.
On July 22d, Mr. Tilton was again before the committee on
cross-examination by Gen. Tracy, counsel for Mr. Beecher.
The Brooklyn Eagle, which throughout the controversy had
shown a bitter partizan hostility to Mr. Tilton, and even threatened editorially that he might be driven from the city, publishled the following as the cross-examination:
Mr. Tilton was quietly asked by Mr. Tracy as to his relations
with a certain woman, not Mrs. Victoria Woodhull. Had he
not at certain specified times and in certain alleged places been
guilty of the offense with that woman, of which Mr. Tilton alleges AMr. Beecher to have been guilty with Elizabeth Tilton.
To the asking of this question Mr. Tilton manifested the
greatest indignation. Ii did not exactly rage, but hlie (denounced the implication in the loftiest terms.  He was dramatic.
He put himself upon a very high pedestal of dignity.
280 
TILT'ON CROSS-E]YA]I~iVED.'
Mr. Tracy then asked Mr. Tilton as to his private relations
with another woman, naming her.
To this MAr. Tilton replied very calmly.  He was not wounded
in that place.
MIr. Tracy then asked Mr. Tilton if he had ever held any
improper relation or criminal intercourse with a third woman,
namling that woman.
MAfr. Tiltonii thereupon aga,in raged and fuimed, an(d expressed
his indignation in terms of theatrical and almost tragic import.
Mr. Tracy then askeld Mr. Tilton if hle had not had improper
relations with another woman, thle sister of the last one referred to; if he did not take her with him on one certain occasion to Willsted, Conn., when he delivered a lecture there,
and if lie and that woman did not then and there occupy thle
same room with this woman.  Mr. Tracy indicated also tl-hat
his question was founded upon chlarges to that effect, made by
the clerk and proprietor of the hotel in which MAr. Tilton and
this woman are alleged to have stayed.
Mr. Tilton again rag,ed with indignation.  He made, as lihe
does in answering nearly every important question put to him,
a speech.  Ie declared that if this form of warfare was to be
kept up he himself would do some talking.  If names were to
be called in that way he would have some names to melntion.
The thing should not end in that way.
In fine, Mr. Tilton put himself on the record as threatening
to expose other parties, who, as hle insinuated, had been guilty
of improper conduct,at some time or other, and in some place
or other.
Mr. Tracy, said: Mr. Tilton, you have charged your wife
with haviig committed adultery withl Mr.  Beecher.  Now,
answer this question.  Did you ever commit adultery?
MIr. Tilton (running his hands through his locks, straightening them out into tlleir longest extent)-Sir!  Talk to me as
one gentleman talks to another.  I decline to be questioned
in lthat way.
Mlr. T'racy-I ask you the question squarely.  It is a question
easy to be understood, and you can see that it is a question essential to this case.  You have st;;ted that you had a beautiful
home until MIr. 13oeecher corrupted your wife. TlThe Committee
want to know what sort of a home you made for your wife;
whether or not you brought ether women to your house and
held improper relations there  with them.  You  see it is
essential to know what sort of a peaceful and happy home you
281
a 
IE DESPISES THE CHURCH.
made it for her before Mr. Beecher, as you say, corrupted her
and ruined tlhat home.  Now, Mr. Tilton, I put the question
squarely to you, did you ever commit adultery?
Mr. Tilton (striking a Tiltonian attitude and stretching out
his finger a'ter the manner of Natlian to David)-Mr. Tracy
did you ever commit adultery?
Mr. Trtcy —Wlien I slhall lhave charged my wife with committinig adultery it will be tinmec for you to ask that question.
Mr. Tiltoii-Well, sir, I decline to aIswer that question.
It is an insult to me, sir!  If I have ever had any ilntimnacy
with ladies I would be a scoundrel sir to call their names!
Mr. Tracy-Well, under that head we will suppose that you
have already named your wife.
Mr. Tilton again rose to an indignation pitch, and refused to
answer.
Mr. Tracy-Mr. Tilton, do you know that your intimacy with
public women greatly disturbed Mrs. Tilton, and made her life
unhappy?
Mr. Tilton (with another attitude)-What do you mean, sir,
to talk to me about public women?
A Member of the Committee-,Mr. Tilton, Mr. Tracy does
not mean public women in an odious sense.   HIe means
reformers.
Mir. Tilton (coming down to his usual manner again-O, yes,
Elizabethl was very much annoyed that I ever should associate
withl such persons.  Shec said they were not sound in theology;
they were heretics and exercised bad influence on me.   She
talked very much about it antd always opposed it.  "Shle hated,"
she said, "such women as Elizabl)ethl Cady Stanton and Mrs.
Woodhull."  She said "they were on the wrong side always."
She feared I was going to be led astray.
In another connection Mr. Tilton said: One great grievance
of my wife was that I was not a clergyman.  Thtankc God, I am
not a minister!  I vwant you to put it down, Mr. Stenographler,
I despise the church, I despise creeds.  Not but that I am a
religious man though.  I am a religious man.  I love God, but
I despise the church.  I saw the cowardice of the church in the
great aiiti-slavery filght, and it hlas always been false.  But Elizabeth has always had a reverence for the church, and shle has
been greatly disturbed because I could not receive the doctrine
of the divinity of the Lrd J(sus Christ.  I could not receive
it.  I had to reject it, an, it disturbed her very much.  It is a
sort of keystone tolier whole faithl that Christ is diviwne. and
6
282 
HIE GA VE HER HIS OPliVI~IN.
my refusal to believe it has been the subject of many conversations ald many of her prayers.  She spends whole hours on her
knees il prayer.  A whiter souled womau does not live to-day
than Elizabeth Tilton!
In another connection Mr. Tilton admitted that "my complaininig friend," to whom one of hi% celebrated letters which
goes under that name was addressed had no existence whatever. It was, he said, a device of his to quiet down the scandal, "although Elizabeth told me at the time that it would
make it all the worse."
During the examination on Tuesday Mr. Tilton stated facts
which prove incontestably that he was himself the sole inspiration of the Woodhull scandal, and that he gave Mrs. Woodhull all the alleged facts on which her exposure was founded.
Among other things, in answer to the question whether he had
said anythiing to Woodhull reflecting on the inttegiity of Beecher
before Woodhull published her scandal Tilton said: "0 yes, I
gave her my opinion of him very freely."
It has also come to light that Tilton did his best to induce
Beecher to preside over the Woodhull woman's meeting, and
used as one inducement the necessity of conciliating Mns. Woodhull, who, he said, was in possession of damaging rumors concerning him, and would possibly use them against him. He
told Beecher that he had better look out, or Woodhull would
injure him.
With reference to but one action in presiding over that meeting, Tilton says that he reached the hall only ten minutes before the meeting commenced; Woodhull was indignant because
there was not a man there who dared to introduce her, and
Tilton said hle dared do it and would do it. Hie said he did
not know what her utterances would be, although he might
have known, as the proofs of her address were in his office; lihe
had not read them.  The most extreme things she said, lWwever, were not in her manuscript, but wvere what he calls
"ebullitions of the moment."  The following question was put
to Tilton by Mir. Tracy:
Mr. Tilton, have you any evidence of Mr. Beecher's adultery
except what you say your wife told you?
Tilton-I have none whatever.
It also appears that one of Mr. Beecher's letters, from which
Mr. Tilton extracts a few linw of doubtful meaning, is over a
column longy. Tilton has twice promised to produce it, but has
not yet done so. He may produce it this afternoon, when his
283
0 
B  EECIIER'S D EYIA L.
cross-examination will be resumed. The committee want to
know what, is iii the whole letter.  It is fair to presume that
Tilton has taken fiom it only such parts as suit his purposes.
Simultaneous with this cross-examination the denial of Mr.
Beecher to the charges appeared. It reads thiis:   I do not purpose at this time a detailed examination of the
remarkable statement of Theodore Tilton, made before the
Committee of Investigation, and which appeared in the Brooklyn Arguts of July 21st, 1874. I recognize the many reasons
which make it of transcendent importance to myself, the
Church, and the cause of public morality, that I shall give a
full answer to the charges against me. But, having requested
the Committee of Investigation to search this matter to the
bottom, it is to them that I must look for my vindication.
But I cannot delay for an hour to defend the reputation of
Mrs. Elizabeth R. Tilton, upon whose name, in connection
with mine, her husband has attempted to pour shame. One
]ess deserv ing of such disgrace I never knew. From childhood,
she has been under my eye, and, since reaching womanhood,
she has had my sincere admiration and affection.  I cherish
lor her a pure feeling, such as a gentleman might honorably
offer to a Christian woman, and which she might receive and
reciprocate without moral scruple. I reject with indignation
every imputation which reflects upon her honor or my own.
My regard for Mrs. Tilton was perfectly well known to my
family.  When serious difficulties sprang up in her household,
it was to my wife that she resorted for counsel; and both of us,
acting from sympatlhy, and, as it subsequently appeared, without full knowledg,e, gave unadvised counsel, which tended to
harm. I have no doubt that Mr. Tilton found that his wife's
confidence and reliance upon my judgment had greatly increased, while his influence had diminished, in consequence of
a marked change in his religious and social views which were
taking place during those years.  Her mind was greatly exercised lest her children should be hlarmed by views which she
deemed vitally false atod dangerous.  I was suddenly and rudeIv aroused to the reality of impending danger by the disclosure
of domestic distress, of sickness perhaps unto death, of the likelihood of separation, and the scattering of a family every lnemher of which I had tendely loved. The effect upon me of the
discovery of the state of Mr. Tilton's feelings, and the condition
of his family, surpassed in sorrow and excitement anything that
2S4 
ABS UBDITY OF TILTON'S CHARGE.-.
I had ever experienced in my life. That my presence, influence, and counsel had brought to a beloved family sorrow and
alienation, gave (ill my then state of mind) a poignancy to my
suffering whichl  I hope no other man may ever feel.  Even to
be suspected of having offered, under the privileges of a peculiarlv sacred relation, aln indecorous word to a wife and mother,
could not but deeply wound any one who is sensitive to the
honor of womanhood. There are peculiar reasons for alarm ill
this case on other grounds, inasmuch as I was then subject to
certain malignant rumnors, and a flagrant outbreak in this family would bring upon them an added injury derived from these
shameless falsehoods.
Believing at the time that my presence and counsels had
Tended, however unconsciously, to produce a social catastrophe, represented as imminent, I gave expression to my feelings
in an interview with a mutual friend, not in cold and cautious
self-defending woi'ds, but eagerly, taking blame upon myself,
and pouring out my heart to my friend in the strongest langutage, overburdened with the exaggerations of impassioned
sorrow.  IIhad I been the evil man Mir. Tilton now represents,
I should have been calmnier and mnore prudent. It was my horror of the evil imputed that filled me wthl morbid itntensity at
the very shadow of it.  Not only was my friend affected generously, but hlie assured me that suchi expressiolns, if conveyed to
Mir. Tilton, would soothe wounded feelings, allay anger, and
heal the whole trouble.  He took down sentences and frlagments of what I had been savilg, to use them as a mediator.
A full statement of the circumstances under which this memorandum was made, I shall give to the Investigating Committee.  That these apologies were more than ample to meet the
facts of the case, is evident, in that they were accepted, that
our intercourse resumed its friendliness, that Mr. Tilton subsequently ratified it in writing, and that he has continued for
four years, and until within two weeks, to live with his wife.
Is it conceivable, if the original clharge had been what it is
now alleged, that he would have condoned the offence, not
only with the mother of his children, but with him whom he
believed to havec wronged them?  The absurdity as well as
falsity of this story is al)pparent, when it is considered that Mr.
Tilton now alleges that he carried this guilty secret of his
wife's infidelity for six months locked up in his own breast,
and that then he divulged it to me, only that there might be a
reconciliation with me! Mr. Tilton has since, in every form
285 
THEII &SDDEST ACT OF HIS LIFE.
of language, and to a multitude of witnesses, orally, in written
statements, and in printed documents, declared his faith in his
witi's purity.  After the reconciliation of Mr.'ilton with
me. every consid(ration of propriety and honor demanded that
the family trouble slioutild'be kep)t in that seclusion which domniestic affLirs have a righ-t to claim as a sanctuary; and to that
seclusion it was determined that it should be confined.
Every line and word of my private and confidential letters
which have been published is in harmony with the statements
which  I now make.  My published correspondence on  this
sublject comprises but two elements-the expression of my
griec;f, and that of my desire to shield the honor of a pure and
innocent woman.  I do not propose to analyze and contest at
this time the extraordinary paper of Mr. Tiltoii; but there are
two allegations which I cannot permit to pass without special
notice. They refer to the only two incidents which Mr. Tilton
pretends to have witnessed personally-the one  an alleged
scene in my house while looking over engravings, and the
other a chamber scene in his owni house. Ilis statements concerling, these are absolutely false. Nothing of the kind ever
occurred, nor any semblance of any such thing.  They are
now brought to my notice for the first time.
To every statement which connects me dishonorably with
Mrs. Elizabeth R. Tilton, or which in any wise would impugn
the honor and purity of this beloved Christian woman, I give
the most explicit, comprehensive, and solemn denial.
lHERnY WARD BEECHEIZ.
BIROOKLYN July 22d, 1874.
This was supplemented upon the following day by the emphatic denial of the charges by MIrs. Tilton in these words
addressed to the public:
To pick up anew the sorrows of the last ten years, the stings
and pains I had daily schooled myself to bury and forgive,
makes this imperative duty, as called forth by the malicious
statement of my husband, the saddest act of my life.  Beside,
my tlhought of following the Master contradicts this act of my
pilA, and a sense of the perversion of my life-faith almostcompels me now to stand aside, till God, Himself, delivers.
Yet I see in this wan,ipn act an urgent call and privilege
from which I shring not.  To reply in detail to the twentytwo articles of arraignment, I shall not attempt at present
286 
CA THA RINE'S CHAR PA C l ER.'
Yet if calledlnpon to testify to each and all of them, I shall
not hesitate to do so.  Suiffice it for my purpose now that I
reply to one or more of the most glowing charges.
Touching the f-igned sorrow of my hlusband's compulsory
revelations, I solemnly avow that long before the Woodhull
publication, I knew him, by insinuation and direct statement,
to lhavec repeated to my very near relative and friend thl)e substance of these accusations which shock thle moral sense of the
entire communlity this day.  Many times, when hearing that
certain persons had spoken ill of him, he has sent me to chide
them for so doing; and then and there I learned he had been
f  me with his calumnies against myself, so that I was
speechless.
The reiteration in his statement that he had "persistently
striven to hide" these so-called facts, is utterly fIlse, as his
hatred to Mr. Beecher has existed these many years, anid the
determination to ruin Mr. Beecher has been the one aim of
his life.
Again, the perfidy with which the holiest love a wife ever offered has been recklessly discovered in this publication, reaches
well niiigh to sacrilege; and, added to this, the endeavor, like
the early scandal of Mrs. WVoodhull, to make my own words
condemn me, has no parallel.
Most conspicuously, my letter quoting the reading of "Griffith Gaunt."  Had Mr. Tilton read the pure character of Catherine, he would have seen that I lifted myself beside it-as near
as any human may affect an ideal.  But it was her character,
and not the incidents of fiction surrounding it, to which I referred. Hers was no sin of criminal act or thought.
A like "confession" with hers, I had made to Mr. Tilton in
telling of my love to my friend and pastor, one year before.
And I now add that, notwithstanding all misrepresentations
and anguish of soul, I owe to my acquaintance and friendship
with Mr. Beecher, as to no other human instrumentality, that
encouragement in my mental life, and that growth toward the
Divine nature which enables me to walk daily in a lively hope
of thle life beyond.
The shameless charges in articles seven, eight and nine are
fearfully false in each and every particular.
'I'Thle letter referred to in Mr. Tilton's tenth paragraph was
obtained from me by importuni*, and by representations that
it was necessary for him to use in his then peiiding difficulties
with Mr. Bowen.  I was then sick, nigh unto death, laving
287 
iMlS. TIL'ON  DEVIES TEE CUArRGES.
suffered a miscarriage only four days before. I signed whatever
lie required, without k)owing or understanding its import.
The paper I have never seen, and do not know what statemlents
it contained.
In charge eighteen, a letter of mine, addressed to Mr. Francis
Moulton, quoted to prove that I never desired a separation or
was advi-ed by Mr. or Mrs. Beecher to leave my husband, I
reply, the letter was of Mr. Tilton's own concocting, which he
induced me to copy and sign as my own-an act which, in my
weakness and mistaken thought to help him, I have done too
often during these unhappy years.
The implication that the harmony of the home was unbroken till Mr. Beecher entered it as a frequent guest and
friend, is a lamentable satire upon the household where he himself, years before, laid the corner-stone of Free Love, and desecrated its altars up to the time of my departure; so that the
atmosphere was not only godless, but impure for my children.
And in this effort and throe of agony, I would fain lift my
daughters, and all womanhood from the insidious and diabolical teachings of these latter days.
Hiis frequent efforts to prove me insane, weak minded, insignificant, of mean presence, all rank in the category of heartlessness, selfishness and falsehood, having its climax in his
present endeavor to convince the world that I am or ever have
been unable to distinguish between an innocent or a guilty
love.
In summing up the whole matter, I affirm myself before God
to be innocent of the crimes laid upon me; that never have I
been guilty of adultery with Henry Ward Beecher in thought
or deed; nor has he ever offered to me an indecorous or improper proposal.
To the further charge that I was led away from my home by
Mr. Beecher's friends, and by the advice of a lawyer whom
Mr. Beecher had sent to me, and who, in advance of my appearing before the Comnmittee, arranged with me the questions
and aniswers which are to constitute my testimony in Mr.
Beecher's behalf, I answer, that this is again untrue, having
never seen the lawyer until introduced to him a few moments
before the arrival of the Committee, by my step-father, Judge
lMoIse; and in further reply I submit the following statement
of mv action before the Csmmittee, and the separation from my
husband.
The publication'of Mr. Tilton's letter in answer to Dr. Ba
2~s 
SHE SEES THEODORE'S BROTITER.
con, I had not known or suspected, when on Wednesday evening he brought home the Golde" Aye, handing it to me to
read.  Looking down its columns I saw, well nigh with blinding eyes, that he had put into execution the almost daily threat
of his life —' that he lived to crush out Mr. Beecher; that the
God of battles was in him; he had always been Mr. Beecher's
superior, and all that lay in his path, wife, children or reputation, if need be, should fall before this purpose."
I did not read it. I saw enough without reading. My spirit
rose within me as never before.
"Theodore," I said, "tell me what means this quotation
from Mr. Beecher?  Two years ago you came to me at midnight saying:' Elizabeth, all letters and papers concerning my
difficulties with Mr. Beecher and Mr. Bowen are burned, destroyed; now don't you betray me, for I have nothing to defeid myself with."'
"Did you believe that?" said he.
"I certainly did, implicitly," I said.
"Well, let me tell you-they all live; not one is destroyed."
If this was said to intimidate me, it had quite the contrary
effect. I had never been so fearless, nor seen so clearly before
with whom I was dealing.
Coming to me a little later, he said: "I want you to read it;
you will find it a vindication of yourself. You have not stood
before the community for five years as you now do.
Roused still further by the wickedness hid behind so false a
mask, I replied, "Theodore, understand me, this is the last
time you call me  publicly to walk through this filth.  My
character needs no vindication at this late hour  firom you.
There was a time, had you spoken out clearly, truthfully and
manfully for me, I had been grateful but now  I shall speak
alnd act for myself.  Know also, that if in the future I see a
scrap of paper referring to any human being, however remote,
which it seems to me you might use or pervert for your own
ends, I will destroy it."
"This means battle on your part, then," said he.
"Just so far," I replied.
I write this because these words of mine he has since used
to my harm.
The next morning I went to my brother, and told him that
now I had decided to act inthis matter; that I had been
treated by my husband as a nonentity from the beginning, a
play thing, to be used or'let alone at will; that it had always
289
0
He~ - t.  
THEY IlERE HAPPY.
seemed to me I was a party not a little concerned. I then
showed him a card I had made for publication.
He respected the motive, but still advised silence on my part.
I yielded to him thus far, as to appearing in the public prints;
but counseling with myself and no other, it occured to me
that amonig the brethren of my own communion, I might be
heard.
Not knowing of any church committee, I asked the privilege
of such an interview in the parlors of those who had always
been our mutual friends. Mr. and Mrs. Ovington then learned, for the first time, that the Committee would meet that
night and advised me  to see those.gentlemen, as perhaps the
goodliest persons I could select. This I accordingly did.
There, alove, I pleaded the cause of my husband  and my
children, the result being that their hearts were moved in sympathy for my family-a feeling their pastor had shared for
years, and for which he was now suffering.
On going home, I found my husband reading in bed.   I
told him where I had been, and that I did iiot conceal anything from him, as his habit was from me. He asked who the
gentlemen were; said no more; rose, dressed himself and bade
me good-bye forever.
The midnight following I was awakened by my husband
standing by my bed. In a very tender, kind voice he said he
wished to see me. I rose instantly, followed him into his
room, and sitting on the bed side, he drew me into his lap,
said "he was proud of me, loved me; that nothing ever gave
him such real peace and satisfaction as to hear me well spoken
of; that, meeting a member of the Committee, he had learned
that he had been mistaken as to my motive in seeing the Committee, and had hastened to assure me that he had been
thoroughly wretched since his rash treatment of me the night
before," etc.
Then and there we covenanted sacredly our hearts and lives
-I most utterly; renewing my trust in the one human heart I
loved.
The next day, how happy we were! Theodore wrote a statement, to present to the Committee when they should call upon
him, to all of which I heartily acceded. This document, God
knows, was a true history of this affair, completely vindicating
my honor and the honor  f my pastor.  In the afternoon he
left me to show it to his friends.
He returned home early in the evening, passing the happiest
290
4b 
" THE END HAS INDEED COME"
hours I had known for years; renewedly assuring me that there
was no rest for him, away from me. So in grateful love to
the dear Father, I slept.  Oh, that the end had then come! I
would not then have received the cruel blow "which made a
woman mad outright."
The next morning he called upon our friends, Mr. and Mrs.
Ovinigton, and there, with a shocking bravado, began a wicked
tirade, adding with oath and violence the shameless slanders
against Mr. Beecher, of which I now believe him to be the
author.
This fearful scene I learned next day. In the afternoon, he
showed me his invitation from the Committee to meet them
that evening. Idid not then show my hurt-but carried it
heavily within, but calmly without, all night, till early morning.
Reflection upon this scene at Mr. Ovington's convinced me,
that, notwithstanding my husband's recent professions to me,
his former spirit was unchanged; that his declarations of repentance and affection were only for the purpose of gaining
my assistance to accomplish his ends in his warfare upon Mr.
Beecher. In the light of these conclusions, my duty appeared
plain.
I rose quietly, and having dressed, roused him only to say
"Theodore, I will never take another step by your side. The
end has indeed come! "
He followed me to Mrs. Ovington's to breakfast, saying I
was unduly excited, and that he had been misrepresented perhaps-but leaving me determined as before.
lHow to account for the change which twenty-four hours
have been capable of working in his mind, then many years
past, I leave for the eternities with their mysteries to reveal.
That he is an unreliable and unsafe guide whose idea of truthloving is self-loving, it is my misfortune in this late, sad hour
to discover.
ELIZABETH R. TILTOw.
JULY 23d, 1874.
The emphatic denials of both the principal actors in the
alleged crime, gave the friends of Mr. Beecher a ray of hope,
and the press, which had with one or two exceptions, treated
the subject-with generous fairoess, rejoiced that he had at last
spoken in defence of a ioman who many considered, had been
0
291 
BL UNDERS OF THE CO.VMUITTE,P.
brutally maligned by one who had occupied her heart and love
before her fatal visit to the Committee. Yet this was not considered sufficient. People said, it is merely the denial of persons accused, is not sworn to as are the charges. Mr. Beecher
is chivalrous in thus coming to the rescue of a helpless woman,
but these denials are not answers. The public in the meantime had not heard from Mr. Tilton; but the alleged crossexamination as given above, and the manifestoes of his wife
and Mr. Beecher forced him to speak in a semi-official manner through the Adrgts, which thus reports him:
A gentleman called on Mr. Tilton on Friday, July 24th, at
his residence in Livingston Street, and asked him if his examination before the Committee had been concluded. Mr. Tilton replied that he did not know. He had promised to go
before the Committee as often as they sent for him. lHe
added:-Mr. Tracy and Mr. Hill are directly responsible for
the misrepresentations of my examination before the Committee.  Please do lnot understand that I object, at this juncture,
to be misrepresented either by the press or by Mr. Beechler's
counsel. The more I am misrepresented, the more right I
have to defend myself. Mr. Tracy and Mr. Hill, the counsel
for Mr. Beecher, already have as little influence with the Committee as they have with the public. I have just ground of
accusation against Mr. Tracy, and have been advised by far
more eminent counsel than himself, that his course would not
be sustained if submitted to the Bar. I do not wish to press
it, because the Committee themselves-or, at least, a few of
them-are men of too much dignity of character and moral
integrity to be tossed up and down like a ball on a fountain by
the gushing leakages of Mr. Tracy and Mr. till.  The substance of the examination up to the present time, so far ais I
am concerned, is briefly thlis:-General Tracy asked me if I
committed adultery. I asked General Tracy if he committed
adultery.  But neither General Tracy, nor Mr Ihill, nor anybody in the Committee, has yet asked me whether Mr. Beecher
committed adultery.    *       *     *     *      *     *
"You think then that they have made blunders"
Mr. Tilton-" Yes; and they have made one hideous blunder?"
"Whatisit?" 
Mr. Tilton-" Tfiey have diverted their examination from
292
0 
A SWORD WITH' TWO EDGES.
the facts at issue, into an inquiry into the names and characters of my fematle acquainitance-particularly those who, as
writers or speakers on various reforms, have attained eminence
in    public life.  The animus of this inquiry was obvious; its
design was to associate me with the extreme and radical sentinment against which the conservative class in the community
are arrayed in large majority. I, myself, did not object to this
inquiry, though I, myself, would not have begun any such line
of policy in this case.  General Tracy's supreme blunder has
been, that in instituting an inquiry into the standing of the
ladies of my acquaintance, he gives me the right to institute,
a counter inquiry into the standing of the ladies of Mr.
Beecher's acquaintance.
I informed the Committee yesterday that I deprecated such
a plan of battle, but that if it was forced upon nme by the
Comimittee's counsels I could draw a sword with two edges to
their one.  If this new aspect which General Tracy flings upon
the case like a shadow, is to characterize the remainder of the
controversy, it will be the better for General Tracy's chief
client that he had never been born.
Reporter-I perceive that Mr. Tracy questioned you concerninig your acquaintance with Mrs. Woodhull?
Mr. Tilton-Yes; but Mr. Tracy was careful not to elicit
the fact that Mr. Beecher's apology addressed to me through
MAr. Moulton was written half a year before I ever saw the
face of Mrs. Woodhull.  He was careful also not to elicit the
fact that Mr. Beecher himself had private interviews with
Mrs. Woodhull, and that lady had taken  far more pains
to associate herself with him and hlie with her than ever I had
done. * *
I wish you would do me the favor to say through the columns of the Argus, that though I have hitherto declined
being interviewed concerning my appearance before the Committee, and have steadfastly remained silent concerning the
proceedings in the Committee, yet the above report, coming as
it does from the Committee's counsel, is an absolute fabrication.
I told the Committee distinctly that Mr. Beecher had confessed
his adultery to me; that hlie had confessed it to Mr. Moulton;
that he had confessed it to other persons whom I named, and,
furthermore, I give the names of several persons who for the
last four years have been perfectly well aware that Mr. Moulton's
entire connection with. this case from beginning to end, has
been based on the one and only corner-stone of Mr. Beecher's
293
0 
WILLING TO ao TO THE C(OUIZI'S.
criminality.  I ask that all these persons be produced before
the committee.  I ask, futhermore, for the privilege of being
present to cross-exanmine AIr. Beeclher and tlhe other witnesses.
I still flurther suggested that the case had comie to be of such
miagniitude that it would be better for the Coimmittee to dismiss this informal examinationS in -which no olne but myself
has thus far spoken under oatl), and adjourn to meet in Court.
I expressed a willilngness to be sued for libel, or to be put in
any other way before a tribunal which could comipel wvitnesses
to testify under oathl, and which could punishl perjury with
the State Prison. If this case, with all the facts whlich lie
behind it, revealed and Lunrevealed, were now before a Criminal
Coutrt instead of a voluntary committee, and if Mr. Beecher's
printed statement had been made under oathl, subject to crossquestioning, and overthrow, hle would indeed be compelled to
'step down and out."  I feel at liberty to speak freely, because
M1r. Beeclier's counsel have falsified me to the world, and I
have no recourse but to smite them in the face.
[It is proper for a due iunderstanding of the above expressed
willingness of Mr. Tilton to go into court either as a defendant
or complainant, tllat we should say that for several days previous to this publication, General Benjamin F. Butler had beenl
in the city as the legal adviser of Mr. Tiltonl, and had recommended such a course as the most effective way of settling the
matter by fixing the guilt upon the accused, or vindicating
him from the astounding charges made by Mr. Tilton.  On
the following day a significant editorial suggesting this course
appeared in the TWorld.]  We make some extracts:
"The time has passed for concealment, subterfuge or explation-Inay even for secret investigations by irresponsible clhuich
committees.  Ever since the publication of the letter of Mr.
Tilton to Dr. Bacon, compromise or peace has been impossible.
Mr. Beecher could never rest under that letter.  lThat was the
real challenge to war- a challenge that came from Mr. Tiltoii,
who, by the way, has acted in this matter with a coolness, a foirce
and a pitiless energy that render the stories of his'insanity' the
extreme of absurdity.  His war upon  Mr. Beecher may  be
regarded as a species of- vivisection, and in the interest of
hlumanity it should cease.  The torture which Mr. Tilton hlas
inflicted upoii his eliemy, so strong]y shown in the letters of
29-1 
SOCIETY HAS CLAIMS.'
the unfortunate clergyman, should come to an end.  Better
that Henry Wa,rd Beecher should be with the dead, and find
that peace which his soul craved in his touching letters, than
that hle shlould live under the misery which Mr. Tilton has
never ceas..d to force upon14 him since the 1st of January, 1871
Whatever the end is, let us have file end, more particularly
as Mr. Tilton in a remarkable interview, reprintedc elsewhere
fiom the Brooklyn Argus, intimates that he'could draw a
sword with two edges.'  In other words as he further shows,
hle will, if provoked, rake up the scandals that have been floating about Brooklyn, and introduce the names of ladies not yet
nailed in the case, ladies who now hold good positions ia
society, as the alleged victims of sin and shlame.
"Upon this there is one plain word to be said.  Mr. Tilton
has told us thlat this was to be a day of battle and of death.
lie may make war upon his own family, upon Mr. Beecher
and his fanlily, and, whatever we may say, thlere is probably
no method of interference.  But i~ this controversy is to be
made the means of carrying misery into other families; if Mr.
Tilton is to brandish his'two-edged sword' over the houselholds of those who have not wronged him, who are not in this
controversy, he enters upon a course so extraordinary that he
becomes an outlaw and the common enemy of society-a
course that can no more be permitted than we would permit a
band of Sioux with their scalping knives to range around
Brooklyn.   Iuchl is due to vindication and the assurance of
oile's good name, and much may be pardoned to a man in
anger, in the heat of strife and at bay before his enemy.  But
society also has claims, and the time has come when it must
be protected against the extraordinary course which M1r. Tilton
assures us he stands ready to pursue."
The week of anxiety, alarm and grief at the danger that environed America's favorite minister ended on July 25th, and it
was believed that the worst had been elicited-that after the
week of storm a quiet rest would settle over the central figures
in the unfortunate disputes, and that the Sabbath quietude
would place all in a more forgiving franie of mind.  Not so,
however.  The  Brooklyn Sunday papers appeared  and they
were very hostile to Mr. Bee,her-tlie Sunday Sun reviewing
the case and chlarging.that Mr. Beecher was convicted of all
clarged by his own letters, and those of Mrs. Tilton.  But the
2)5
0 
THE WOPST HAD BEEN TOLD.
worst blow was reserved for infliction by the Sunday Revievw,
and this stab came in the form of tall interview with Mr. James
McDermott, a journalist, who had been on confidential relations with the Free Love sisters and learned many of their
secrets. We would fain pass it over in silence, but feel that
our duty to give all the material evidence on both sides demands its repetition here:  Reporter-Mr. James McDermott, I presume?
Mr. McDermott-You needn't presume anything about it.
Be sure you are right, and I think you are this time.
Reporter-I am sent to see you, sir,. by the Editor of ithe
Sunday Review, respecting what you know of the Tilton
scandal.
Mr. McD.-Tilton be d          scandal; call it by its proper
name-the Beecher scandal.  If the Review editor sent you to
talk to me about this subject, he had little respect for this
weather or my capacity to endure it.
Reporter-Commence where you like.
Mr. McD.-Well, you want a sensation and I'll give you one
or two. You are right in suggesting that I was one of the
parties who accompanied Mr. Bowen and Mr. HI. B. Claflinii to
the residence of Mrs. Woodhull on the afternoon of Mr. T,a)pen's funeral.  He was, I believe, Mr. Bowen's father-in-law.
But what of it?
Reporter-Oh, I merely wanted to know if you went there
in the capacity of a journalist, or as a friend of Mr. Bowen's?
Mr. McD.-I confess I went there in a double capacity.  I
was there anyhow, all the time. Mr. Henry C. Bowen, Mr. H.
B. Claflint, Mr. Bowen's nephew and son, Judge Ryer, Counselor
Wood, and other gentlemen of this city were there with me.
We went there for the purpose of hearing what Mrs. Woodhull
and her counsel had to say, and to see what we might or could.
Repl)orter-WhIat, if anything, outside of your personal relationship with Mr. Bowen, prompted you to accompany these
gentlemen on that occasion?
Mr. McD.-I'll be frank with you, sir.  I cultivated Mrs.
Woodhull's acquaintance thlrough a business accident. Through
her I became acquainted with her famnily. Victoria is a woman
of aLdvanced character.  I never knew her to do an injury to
any one, and in this reprhensible Beecher scandal I think she
is the one, above allothers, who has told the most truth. She
certainly never lied to me, and I'll prove it to you, sir.
a
296
L. 
JAMES McDEI.R[OTT.
Reporter-Can you (lo it by documentary evidence?
Mr. MlcD.-l Call.  Whlly here, my dear sir, is the original of
the letter which made me know both Bleecher and Tilton first.
You see it's itt Tilton's ownvi hltndwritinig, and does away effectually witl! Beeclher's theory tlhat hA only knew Mrs. Woodhull
through li(hr askinig himn to preside at one of her me(etings.
Beechler falsifies, and( hlere's the proof of it-a proof tliLht has
been in my possession for nearly two years-and this document
I showed to D)eacon West, of Plymouth Church, wlhen hle called
upon me in relation to this matter.
Mr. McDermott then showed the reporter a letter, of which
the                       following is a  copy:
"GOLDEN AGE.
MY DEFAR VICTORIA:-I have arranged with Frank that you shall see
Mr. Beecher at my house on Friday night.  Ile will attend a meeting at
the church till ten o'clock, and will give you the rest of the evening as late
as you desire.  You may consider this fixed.  Meanwhile, on this sunshiny
day, I salute you with a good morning-peace be with you.
THEODORE TILTON.
Reporter-That letter is evidently genuine but what does it
prove?
Mr. McD.-It proves Mr. Beecher a falsifier, though the
letter is not dated, it is in my possession over two years-prior
to the time I published the tripartite statement so often alluded
to.  Whly, mny friend, I have iIn my possession over one hlundred
letters of Mir. Tilton's, and three or four of Mr. Beecher's in
connection with this matter. I have a good many of them yet;
but sit down till I shock you:
In company with Mr. Bowen's son-his youngest by his first
wife, I believe-and anephew. I visited whlatwe then considered
the bed-side of a dying woman.   We were accompanied by Mr.
Tuschl, now a reporter on the Eagle, who made stenographic
notes of all that was said on the occasion of what I style the
death-bed confession.
The record is now or was in Mr. Bowen's house. That
record pronounces the dishonor of the dead Mrs. * * * * * by
AMr. Beecher, and in a manner that I would blush to repeat. It
inmplicated also the wife of a physician, and other ladies on the
Heights whose names I do it feel at liberty just now to mention, but I will if I am forced to it.  I admire Mrs. Beecher's
course in this matter, she is a noble woman and a true wife, and
13*
0
297
Yours, 
_IHUNDRED LETTERS.
Mrs. Tilton would do well to follow her example rather than
her advice.  I claim to know why Mrs. Beecher was sent to
Italy by her husbatd(l, and now conscientiously believe that the
only way for Mr. Beecher to get out of this matter is to make
a frank and open confession.  The public are generous and
willing to forgive him as a man;'but he must retire from the
ministry.
Reporter-Did Mrs. Woodhull sllow you the letters of Mr.
Beecher?
Mr. McD.-She did, and in the presence of Mr. Ihorace B.
Claflin and Henry C. Bowen; I know the letters to he genuine,
and, as Mrs. Woodhull afterwards said to me on the steamer
going to Long Branch, slie'would not give them up nor disclose their contents because she felt that she was being prosecuted in the Courts by Plymouth Church, or rather by individuals acting for it by proxy.;
Reporter.- Could you be mistaken respecting the identity of
the letters of Mr. Beecher or Mr. Tilton?
Mr. McD.-I might, but I was convinced of their genuineness by Mr. Claflin, a most upright and responsible gentleman
and citizen.
0
298 
a 
RESIDENCE OF THEODORE TILTON.
I>   
CHAPTER XIII.
THEODORE ON THE RACK OF CROSS-EXAMINATION-HE AD  HERES TO HIS STORIES OF "CRIMINAL COMMERCE" AND DE  SCRIBES "THE ANKLE SCENE," THE "BEDROOM MEETING,"
ETC.-A PECULIARLY BADI) MEMORY-HE GIVES MIt. BEECHER
THE BENEFIT OF A DOUBT-" MUTUAL FRIEND MOULTON"
AND A HISTORY OF ELIZABETH'S CONFESSION-DRAMATIC
DENIALS, FIERCE THREATS AND DEFIANCES.
On Sunday evening, July 27th, the grand committee of Inquisition, through their chairman, supplied the press of New
York with the stenographer's report of the testimony on crossexamination.   It is here given in full, including Mr. Sage's
letter transmitting it:  General Tracy-Are you able to give the date of the transaction which you say you witnessed at Mr. Beecher's house at
the time of the examination of the engraving? A. I cannot
state the date.
Q. At the time you received the information you speak of
from your wife, you were the editor of the Independent and of
the Brooklyn Union, I believe? A. I was.
Q. Did your wife continue to attend Plymouth Church after
that information?  A. Yes, sir; that was in the summer time;
she went into the country and was absent a long time; she has
always continued to a,ttend once or twice a year; she is a member of Plymouth Church.
Q. Did she attend regularly after returning from the country?
A. No, sir; she attended occasionally for Communion service,
and would steal in quietly at the corner of tihe building so as
to be unobserved.
Q. Previous to announcin cyoulr discovery or pretended discovery to Mr. Beeclhe, yout I!  ftllen into trouble with Hleniry
C. Bowen, had you not?e  A. Y(is, sir.
299 
CR0 OSSEXAMINA TION.
Q. How long before?  A. Two days.
Q. You had ceased to be the editor of the Independent when
you made this aimnouncemrnent?  A. No, sir.  I ceased to be
thle editor of tle l)dep)ei(le)et on tlc 1st day of Janu:;ry.
Q. Alas not your valdedictory published onl the'22d of De cenilber?  A. Yes, sir, but my eligagenient ended on the 31st.
Q. Had you not entered into a contract withl Mri. Bowen to
be tlle editor of the Ustioiz and contributor to the lcle)ende~,t
before you made any ainnountcementt to IMr. Beecher of tl!is pre tended discovery, and haltd not Mri. Bowen discovered immor alities on your I)ait, a(id did he not threaten to break the en gagemenit?  A. No, lie did not.
Q. Did lie not Imake such allegations against you, and did
not you and lie appoint a day of i          aeeting t his house, when,
in the presence o'f a mutual friend, the allegations against you
should be stalted, and you should make an explanation, anld did
not you meet in the presence of a mutual friend for that purpose?  A. No, sir; Mr. Johnson wished me, about Christmas
time, to see Mr. Bowen; he said there was some story afloat
concernigo, me; I think Clhristmas was Sunday and I went to
see himi on Monday; we had a few words concerning tlhe matter; lie did not tell me what thle story was; I said, " If there is
any story afloat bring, the autlior of it, here and let us see wl.hat
it is;" wve then went on in a conversation concerning Mr.
Beecher."
Q. Did not you and Mr. Bowen meet on that day, and did
not AMri. Boweil begin to repeat the charges against you, and
did not you, while listening to those charges, break out against
tie Rev. Ileiry Watrd Beeclher?  A. I did not; I never ieard
of those cihtarges until after that interview, when Mr. Bowven
went firom it to bear the letter to Mr. Beeclher; I never knew
that Mr. Beecher or Mrs. Beecher had anytllhig to do with Mr.
BovwenI's feelings.
Q. Did not you make an allegation against Mr. Beecher?
A. No, sir; after Mr. Johnson went out he maile an allegt.Ltion.
Q. Did not you make an allegation?  A. I did toward the
end of the interview.
Q. You made a very distinct allegation to Mr. Bowen, did
you not, against Mr. Beeclier, of thle offense that he had committed against you?  A. Yes.
Q. It was on that occas*ii, was it not, that the letter was
agreed Uil)on between you and Mr. Bowen demanding, that Mr.
Beecher should quit Plymouth pulpit?  A.  I remember a
letter.
300
lb 
THEY MADE STATEMENTS. 3.
Q. Was it on that occasion that the letter was agreed upon
between yoiu tnd Mr. Bowen?  A. Yes, it was.
Q. And was that oagreement the result of his statement of the
offenses against Mr. ]Beechler which hlie and you knew of? A.
On the part of Mr. Bowen, yes.
Q. On your part?  A. I made one statement and he made
mally.
Q. Will you state what offense you stated against Mr. Beechler
to Mr. Bowen on that occasion?  A. Mr. Johnson having introduced the subject, Mr. Bowen said to me, "Mr. Tilton, you
do not say as much of Plymouth Cl-hurch as a Brooklyn paper
should; you do not go there; why do you not go?"
Q. I asked you what offense you stated against Mr. Beeclier
to Mr. Bowen?  A. I must answer your question in my own
way. I came to tell you the truth and not fragments of the
truth.  Mr. Bowen wanted me to speak more in the paper of
Plymouth Church.  Mr. Johnson said, "Perhaps Mr. Tilton
has a reason for not going to Plymouth Church." And thereupon Mr. Bowen was curious to know the reason. I, in a solitary phrase, said that there was a personal, domestic reason why
I could not go there consistently withl my self-respect —that
Mr. Beecher had been unhandsome in his approaches to my
wife.  That is the sum and substance of all I have ever said
on this subject to the very few people to whom I have spoken
of it.
Q. It was on that occasion that you agreed upon the letter
which demanded MAr. Beeclher to leave the pulpit? A. Yes, sir,
that was the precise occasion.
Q. You think that was on the 26th of December? A. I
hIave no recollection of dates; the only identification that I
have in my mind is that it was near Christmas.
Q. When were you dismissed from the Union? A. The last
night of the year, I think.
Q. The 31st, was it? A. Yes, sir.
Q.'When did you first le.Lrni that Mr. or Mrs. Beecher had
in any wa,yv communicated flcts to Mr. Boweii which inflamed
him in the matter of your d(lismnissal? A. I learned that from
Mr. Beecher himself on the dayt atfter his apology was written;
it was the 2d, possibly the 3d, of January; it was in Mr. MoultoI's front room; Mr. Beecher came in, it was an unexpected
meeting; he burst out in an dpression of great sorrow to me,
and said hlie hoped the communication which he had sent to
me by Mr. Moulton was satisfactory to me;- lie then and there
301
0 
DESPCRIBES AN INTER VIE W'.
told Mr. Moulton he had done wrong, not so much as some
others had (referring to his wife, who had made statements to
Mr. Bowen that ought to be unmade), and he there volunteered to write a letter to Mr. Bowen concerning the facts
which he had misstated.
Q. Do  you say that was the first time that you knew
that Mr. Beecher or Mrs. Beecher had given MIr. B3owen  anlly
information or had any conversation with  him  on the sulject? A. Yes, sir; I did not know that Mr. Beecher had given
Mr. Bowen any such information; Mrs. Tilton had intimated
to me that there was something.
Q. When did Mrs Tilton intimate that to you? A. In  December she told me of visits which Mrs. Beecher had made to
her and of testimony which they wanted to get.
Q. What time in December? A. I do not know.
Q. Was it before or after the publication of your valedictory
in the Izdepeideit? A. I do not remember; Mrs. Tilton spoke
to me a number of times of the enmity which Mrs. Beecher
had for some strange reason connected with Mrs. Morse (Mrs.
Tilton's mother); there was a conspiracy between Mrs. Morse
and Mrs. Beecherbefore September; the truth is that Mrs.
Tilton's confession was made also to her mother, and the mother naturally wanted to protect the daughter, and she made a
kind of alliance with Mr. Beecher, and Mrs. Beecher took part
in it; there was a desire on their part to protect Elizabeth.
Q. You say that Mrs. Tilton referred some time in Decemb.r to the fact that Mrs. Beecher hald interfered in your matters? A. Not that she had interfered in my matters, buit that
3Mrs. Morse and Mrs. Beecher were colleaguilng together with
reference to me.
Q. Are you able to fix that date? A. It was many times.
Q. Was any of it before the 22d of December, think you?
A. Yes, I think early in the summer, but do not know.
Q. Any time in December was Mrs. Tilton separated from
y)u with her family? A. Not that I remember; Mrs. Tilton
went al few wveeks to make a visit at her mother's.
Q. Do you remember the occasion of sending for your wife
to come to the Uiniont office while shie was separated from you?
A. Yes, she was at her mother's.
Q. Do you remember telling her that you were about to be
dismissed from the Union and that she must return to you
and live with you to prevent it? Did you tell her anything of
that? A. Not a shadow; It would have made no difference
one way or the other.
t,o
0 
.IE SENT A NOTE.
Q.  Did you on trat d-tv send a letter by a servant by the
name of E'llen, dir,ctilig the person ill whose house she was to
return your childlren to your house in her absence? A. I do
not, recollect it; Mrs. Morse had the children, and I told Ellen Dennis to brine tlhem; I do not remncmber the time.
Q. Did you send a note by her? A. I sent quite a peromptorv message.
Q. And the children came? A. Yes, or were brought; I
think there was only one.
Q. Did your wite come late in the evening after that? A. I
do not remember; I think I went perso,ially for Elizabeth,
and told her she was doing wrong in staying away; I have no
distinct recollection of so many details.
Q. How long after that return was it that this statement,
which you say she made, and which was placed in Mr. MoultonI's hands, was written? A. I do not know; I have no means
of knowing; the date of her giving the letter for the interview with Mr. Beecher I think was on the 29th of December.
Q. The object of giving the letters was to bring about an
interview between you and Mr. Beecher that there might be a
reconciliation, and that Mr. Beechler might aid in saving you
f'om dismissal from  the ldedet? A. No.  Mrs. Tilton
thought that my retirement from the papers was due in some
way to Mr. and Mrs. Beecher, and she thought as I was very
indignant against Mr. Bowen, unless there was some reconciliation between Mr. Beecher ani)d myself, her secret would be exposed, and she begged me to have an interview with him, and
wrote a note to that effect.
Q. Have -you that note? A. I decline to answer.
Q. Will you produce it? A. I decline to answer.  I decline
to answer because you know the fact already.
Q. You say that note was written on the 29th day of December? A. I think there is a record on the subject here (in
the statement which hlie had read) somewhere.
By Mr. Hill-Caln you refer to a note written  by you to Ellen? Do you think that had a date attached which would fix
the time? A. I do not know; I remember Ellen to have had
something to do withl the return of one of the children; I think
that note was written to Mrs. Morse.
Q. Was not the subject of the interview between you and
Mr. Beecher for the purpose c& inducing him to aid in preventing your dismissal? A. No more than it had with this investigation; the sole purpose of that interview was this. Mrs.
0
303 
TILTON'S DISMISSAL.
Tilton felt that Mr. Beecller and I were in danzer of coming
into collision  for hlir sake, at liair request, I had this inlter view; it w As solely iln r(feirenee to Aits. Trilton.
Q. It was two days before your final dismissal, and pending
the question whether you should be retained or not? A. My
dismissal from the Unison came after that interview; it took
effect the last night of the year; my interview with Mr. Beecher had nothing to (do withl that.
By General Tracy-It was two days before it, and pending,
thel question of whether you woTld be dismissed or retained,
was it not? A. No, sir; tiese documents themselves, I think,
show that my interview with Mr. Beecher was after my dismissal from the Union.
Q. That interview was on the 29th, and your dismissal was
on the 31st. Then that interview was before your dismissal,
and pending the question whether you would be retained or
dismissed, was it not? A. The question of my dismissal, was
decided in the flash of an eye; I never knew that there was
any such question; I, two or three days previous to the interview with Mr. Beecher, had filled up contracts, one to be editor of the Union for five years and the other to be chief coIntributor of the Indepenideit, and there was  no pending question.
Q. Was not your contract to be editor of the  Union for five
years, and to be chief contributor of the Inidepencdentt, signed
previous to the publication of your valedictory in the Incle2)enden?t? A. They were signed very near that time.
Q. Was not the interview at which  Mr. Johnson was present at Mr. Bowen's house on the 26th of December? A. Yes,
sir.
Q. The interview with Mr. Beecher was on the 29th? A. I
cannot say precisely.
Q. Your final dismissal from the Union was on the 31st?
A. I cannot say yes, unless the letters will show.
Q. Will you tell us why it was that having been possessed of
this iniormation for six months without any desire to communiicate it to Mr. Beecher, you were seized with a desire to
communicate that information to him on or about the 29th of
December? A. Yes, sir; because Mrs. Tilton feared that Mr.
Beecher, Mr. Bowen and I were in danger of such a clash and
collision that the family scret would be exposed, and felt that
there was a necessity for a reconciliation, and she begged and
prayed me to be reconciled with Mr. Beecher; and on her ac
qo0t
0 
LIV V1 A.zG &A   OF A CL A SS.
count and for her salke I said I would have an  interview with
him.
Q. Will you explain why the difficulty you had with Mr.
Bowen ill regard to the Intdepei,(Ient and the (Inioi, woull involve the necessity of your exposing the family secret wlichl
you obtained( from Mrs. Tilton six months  before? A. It wats
not through fear of my exposing it; Mrs. Morse and Mrs.
Beecher were sometimes ill collision, and Mrs. Tilton always
maide me believe that Atf. Beecher knew this secret, until in
Dcembci, wvlien she told( me. I took it for granted, all summer
long, that she hatd told hlim what she li-t(l told me, and what
she hlad told her mother, atnd I suppose that Mrs. Beecher was
co-operating with Mrs. Morse.
Q. Did you complain of Mr. Beecher for not aiding you to
remain in the Intdependent? A. No, sir; I would have scorned
it.
Q. You have read Mfr. Wilkeson's statement? A. I have
not.
Q. You know Samuel Wilkeson? A. Yes.
Q. Did you say to him about that time that Mr. Beecher had
not betfriended you in that matter? A. I did not, and Mir.
Wilkeson will not dare to say that under oath.
Q. You say you never complained of Mfr. Beecher for not
helpl)ing you? A. No, not for not helping me, but for being
unjust to mie and saying that I ought to be turned out; I understood that he said to Dr. Spear that they were going to
have AiMr. Tilton out of the Independen2t; Mr. Charles Briiggs
told me that; he said, "I know something about this; I
heard some such thing."
Q. You say that Mr. Beecher apologized and that you accepted the apology? A. I read the account of that in the document.
Q. Did you, or (lid you not, as a matter of fact, accep)t tlhe
apology which Mr. Beecher nmade, and forgive the otenice?
A. I accepted the apology and forgave the offence wvithi as
much largeness as I thioulght it was possible for a Christiaii mali
to assume.
Q. Friendly relations continued after that between you and
MIr. Beeclher?  A.  Well, not friendly; you caln  understiand
what such relations would be; they were  not hostile; thi(y
were relations which Mr. Moiton forced with anl iron hand;
he compelled them. 
Q. Did you or not, after or about the time of the tripartite
305 
I7E WE.LYT TO DR. STORRS.
agreement, express friendly sentiments in regard to him? A.
I have taken paiins to make it appear in all quarters that Mr.
Beecher an( I were not in h)ostility, and I have suppressed my
self-respect many times in doing it.
Q. l)i(l yout cver state this off'(el('C of Mr. Beeceler as committed agatinst you to Mr. Storrg? A. I never did.
Q. Was it ever stated in your presence to him? A. No, sir;
he read a statement that Mrs. Tiltonl made and that I helped
her to matke.
Q. Did you go with her when she made that statement to
Dr. Storrs? A. I did not.
Q. Did you ever state or read to Dr. Storrs any  statement
of the offences whichll you charged  agatinist Mri. iBeechler? A.
No; I showed( Dr. Storrs a letter which Elizabetlh and myself
wrote aind whlichl I still l)reserve; Mr. Carpenter and I went to
Dr. Storrs as counsellor; my intention was to have Elizabeth
go, but she preferred to write a few lines.
Q. You took what she wrote and what youi helped her to
write tQ Dr. Storrs and showed it to him as the statement of
the offence which you char(ged Mr. Beecher with? A.  No.  I
did not charge Mr. Beecher with any offence at all.
Q. I am trying to get at wlhat offence you stated against Mr.
Beecher. A. Elizabeth stated that.
Q. And you had it and gave it to Dr. Storrs to read? A.
Yes, sir.
Q. Ilow was the offence stated? A. It began in this way,
thalt on a certain day, in the summer of 1870, she had infobrmed
her husband that MIr. Bee-cher lhad asked he-r to be a wife to
him togetler with all thiat this implies; she was very solicitous
to make it that she did not accept his propl)osition, and, hlappily, in reading it, those who saw it, naturally inferred that  she
did not accept his propositioli; it was a perfectly correct statemen t.
Q.  You and she wrote it?  A.  She wrote it with my assistance.
Q.  You took that statement to Dr. Storrs, and it was read
by him in your presence?  A.  Yes, sir.
Q.  It w.s read also to Mr. Beecher?  A.  I read it to him
myself.  Mir. Beecher objected to it and I made no further use
of it.
Q.  You prepared a doglment, did you not, giving a history
of tlhis case?  A.  No, not in this case, but of my relations to
Mr. Bowen.
306 
HE TVANTED COUYSEL.
Q.  It was stated in tlhat document?  A.  Yes; this letter
of Elizabethl's was quoted ill it.
Q.  And it was read to Dr. Storrs?  A.  Yes.
Q.  Did you also quote tlhe letter of apology in it?  A.
Just as I did in tl.e letter to Dr. Bacon?
Q.  You quoted thle al)ology as an apology for the offence?
You stated and cited it as )pro)f llh,t he had apologized lor that
offence?  A.  Yes, I put that in, not wishing to make  the
offence more than that; I was solicitous not to have the worst
of the case known.
Q.  You went voluntarily to Dr. Storrs, did you not? A.
I did, in great distress, waniting cotunsel.
Q.  And so as to get correct counsel you misstated the case?
A.  Yes, as you did ii your statement in the l/nion; it was a
statement necessary to be made; after Mrs. Woodlhull's statemnent I was out of town, and the thinig had filled the coiuntry,
and Mr. Beecher had taken no notice of it; it was seven or
eight days old, and I went to Dr. Storrs for counsel; lie asked
me about the story; I said, "Do not ask me for that;" lhe said,
"Give me some facts by which I call  judge; give  me  that
which cani be proved;" so I gave an account of my affaijrs very
largely, about Mrs. Woodhull, and so oln; the origin of that
document was a seking for something that would put before
the piublic a plausible answer to the Woodhull tale, and I conceived that t)by a claiii of fictts we milght, perhaps, explain it
away.  I read it to Mr. Beecher and lie burst into a long sighl,
and I saw that hle would not or could not stand upon it; and
Elizabeth burned it or tore it to pieces.
Q.  You showed it to others did yout not? A.  To a few
frin ids.
Q.  To whom besides Dr. Storrs?  A.   I thiink  that  I
showed it to George B13ell; I shlowed it to one or two.
Q.  Did you shiow it to Mr. 13Beeclier?  A.  No; I  think
not; I think I showed him the document in the tripartite confession.
Q.  You have kn,own Mr. Beecher many years.  A.  Yes,
sir.
Q.  Is hle your personal friend?  A.  I used to rogard him
as such.
Q.  You remember showiiog him sometliing on this subject?
A.  I remember showing hintthle letter in proof, whlich explained my going out of the iiidevendent and the Union;
whether I shlowetd him the document, I cannot say; I showed
307
0 
llis OPINION OF ELIZABE/'I.
it to a, number of people, hoping that it would do goodI; but
it (lidt not, so it disal)l)(,-Itcd.
Q.  You say Mlr. 1)(eclier refused to stand upon it?  A.
No;  IMr.  louIltoIn aske(  Mr. leee(lier to come  111(1 hear me
real it; I was in ho1)es IMr. Beeclle  minght not feel bad at such
a document, but hoe telt slaiii bvyit.
Q.  An(l, just as on otI(er occasions, he refused to stand( by
a statteni(eit of the offencee?  A.  No; he drew a long sigTh.
Q.   You uunderstood llim as refusing?  A.  No; I did not
un(derstand that.
Q. WVhy did you abandon the document?  A.  Because
there was no success iii it.
Q.  WVhy was there 1o0 success in it?  W.s it not because he
did not accept it?  A.  lBecatuse he d(lid not accept or reject it;
he waited that no statement should be made, and so the thing 
was buried.
Q.  Did you ever state the offence to Dr. Budington?  A.
I never saw him until within two weeks; I heard thalt he went
to see D)r. 1aeoni, and I went to see hinm.
Q.  1Iave yOlt not frequently asserted tile purity of your
wife?  A.   No; I hlave always had(' a strange technical use of
words; I laveC alwayvs used words that conveyed that iml)ression; I hitve tt,- e 4 pains to say that she wis a devoted Clhristian wonman; tlat necessarily carried the other; it was like the
statement that I carried to Dr. Storrs; I d(lo not think lie
caughlt the idea of that statement; as he took it 1 do not think
that it covered the whole; I have said( that ElizaLbethi was a
tender, delicate, kindly, Christian womana, which I think she
is.
Q.  IIave not you stated that she was pure?  A.  No.
Q.  lHave you not stated tlhat she was as pure as an angel?
A.  No; Mr. Hlalliday says I said that; hlie -asked me in Mrs.
Bradshaw's presence whether or not I lhaLd not said that my
wifc wa,s as pure as gold, "No," I said,  "Mr. 1Ialli(lay, because
the c,)nversation to which you all(ude was thlis: -I saidl' Go
anl( ask Mr. )Beeciher  iunseltf and hle will say that she is as
pure as gold; "'  it is an expression which lie used; I llave
sotught to give Elizabeth a goo(l  character; I have always
watlite(l to do so; I think she deserves a good character; I
thinik she is better than most of us-better than I am; I do
not believe in point of  tiutu.l moral goodness, barring, some
drawbacks, that tlhere is in this company so white  a soul as
Elizabethi Tilton.
-ID, 0 8 
TOO ROSE-CGOLORED.
Q.  Did you not state that, in substance, to one or more of
the gentlemen with whom you were lunching?  A.  In substance, yes; and I state it now, but I did not use the phrase
that she had never violated her chastity.
Q. Did you not say that she was pIure? A. No.
Q. Did you not use expressions which you intended to be
understood as meaning the purity of the woman?  A.  I did,
exactly.  There are many ways in which you can produce such
impressions, and I have written this document to produce the
same impression.
By  iMr. White-Mr. Wilkeson, in his testimony, stated in
substance that he had a long conversation with you in regard
to Mir. Beecher's offences, and that in answer to his inquiry as
to what these offences consisted of, you said that he had made
improper addresses to your wife, and that he then said to youl
that he had heard from another person whom he named to you
that it referred to more than the implication, that it referred to
adultery, which you denied.  Is that true?  A.  No; the conversation was about Mr. Bowen: he came to me with a flushed
and rose-colored eulogy on Mr. Beecher for me to sign; it was
desired that Mr. Bowen's charges should be witlhdrawn, and it
was said to me, " suppose Mr. IBowen is willing to blot this out,
youl have no interest to keep it afloat?" "No," I said.  " Well,
if Mr. Bowen will withdraw those charges, will you agree to
consider them blotted out,?"  I said, " Certainly."  I was exceedingly glad to have it done, for I thought that every charge
against Henry Ward Beecher endangered my wife; I said that I
would sign it twenty times over, or conveyed such an idea;
but when the paper was brought to me to signi it was a comp)liment to Mr. Beecher, rose-colored, in which I was to look up to
him with filial respect.  I said, "I won't sign that to the end
of the world," and I cut out a few litnes and would not use
them.
Q.  It is not with reference to the circumstances of signing
the paper that I am speaking, but with reference to the lquestion which he put to you as to the offence.  A.  Ie did not
put to me any such question; Mr. Wilkeson is too much of a
gentleman to ask a man whether his wife had committed
adultery.
Q.  AMr. Wilkeson says you took the paper away to make
such emendations as you chose before signing it, an d that after,
perhaps, the second night, on is return, you said to him that
you never would sign anltlling that required you to let up on
309
0 
3UIS FEELILYGS'O WlARDS BECIIEFR.
Henry Ward Beecher? A. I said that my self-respect would
not permit me to do it; I told him also, or I told other person1S, that I would keep to the line of that necessary reconciliatioii which Mr. Moulton had plainned, but that as for going to
Mr. Beechler's church, or signing such a letter, I would wait to
the end of the world first, and I did not think Air. Bowen
would sign it.
By Mr. Cleveland-You expressed confidence in the paper
you signed in Mir. Beecher,did you not?  A.  No; I expressed
friendliness toward him.
By Mr. White-Mir. Wilkeson says, in substance, that in
speaking of your dismissal from the Union you spoke of Mr.
Beecher as not assisting you, and said that you would follow
him to his grave?  A.  If Mr. Wilkeson communicates the
impression that I ever wanted moniey  from Henry Ward Beecher,
it is false; Mr. Beecher has communicated, through Mr. Moulton
requests that I be assisted( by him, but I would not take a
penny of Mr. Beecher's money if I suffered from hunger or
thirst; and I said that if directly or indirectly he (Mr. MoultonI) communicated to me any of his (Mr. l3eechler's) money it
would break out friendship; Wilkesonl was very friendly to
me; he is a sweet, lovable man, and it is an unaccountable
thing that his niemory is so bad; he is getting old; I have a
letter in which he wants that apology delivered up.
Q.  I will read to you from Mr. Wilkeson's testimony:
" Iis next complaint was that Mr. Beecher did not help him
in his troubles." A. That's a lie; my complaint was that Mr.
Beecher had been unjust to me, not that he had not helped
me; I would not have taken his help.
By General Tracy-I ask you whether your relations and
feelings toward Mr. Beecher, since January 1st, 1871, have not
been friendly? A. Yes, sir; my relations and feelings toward him since January, 1871, when he made the apology,
down to the time when the church began to put out its right
' and and take me by the throat, were friendly.
Q. They are not now friendly but they were friendly uLp to
the beginning of the action of the church in this matter?  A.
/Yes, sir; that is to say, they were friendly in the sense that we
were not in collision with each other.
Q. Were they not those of friendship? A. No they were
not.
Q.  What did you mtan by saying, after that apology was
made, that you desired to see Mr. Beecher protected, rather
than harmned, for his offence atgainst you? A. So I did.
310
0 
GRACE, MEIRCY AND PEACE:
Q.  Do you mean to say that that sentence expressed your
real feelings toward a man who, you believed, had seduced
your wife? A. Yes; I was under obligation; I had taken
his apology and I had given my word that I would not have
him exposed.
Q.  Is it your sentiment that that is an offence for which
one maln can apologize to another?  A.  I know there is a
code of thoniior among gentlemen that a man cannot condone
such an otence; but I cannot see what offence a man cannot
for,give, whlere an apology is ma(le by the person committing it
to the person against whom it is committed; if a man believes
in the Christian religion he ought to; I sometimes forgave and
sometimes I did not; I do know the line of difference.
Q.  Is that your handwriting (showing a slip of paper on
which was written "H. W. B.-Grace, mercy and peace.  Sunday morning.  T. T."  A.  I remember that; one morning
Mr. BIeecher met me in the street and told me  how  muich
pIeasure it gave him; I lhave sent kindlier things than that to
him.
Q.  Did you feel as you spoke? A.  I did; Mr. Moulton
said two or three timnes, "M lr. Beecher is in great depression;
can't you do soml(thing to cheer him? " One morning I walked
to the church withl him; in many circumstances 1 manifested
feeling s of kindness toward him; it would be a lie for me to
say tlhLt I had a warm friendship for Mr. Beecher, and that I
felt as kindly to him as if the offence had not been committed;
if I had been a man morally great, I would have blotted it out
and trodden it under foot; I was competent to forgive in a
large degree; I forgave him in my best moods, but at other
times 1 did not; I am not a very large man.
Q. You have quoted extensively the letters of your wife
written prior to the time you say that she said this intercourse
begaln-have you not her letters written to yott also since that
time and during that time?  A.  No; because at that time I
came home to be editor of the Uitiont, and have not lectured
since.
Q.  I ask you whether you have not letters from her written during the time that you say this was going on and since
then?  A.  No, not written since; because I have not had
occasion since to have letters; I have been at home.
Q.  I understand you to  sa that these relations went on
during your absence; have you any letters that were written
by your wife at that time? A. No.
311
0 
.HIS LETTERS.
Q. IIave you not letters from her that were written to you
betwve,l 1868 and 1870?  A. I think I have.
Q. Will you be kind enough to produce them to the committee?  A. I do not know whether I will or not.
Q. IIave you any letters from Mrs. Tilton complaining to
you?  A. Yes, I have. 
Q. IIave you not many letters from her stating forth her
grievances?  A. No she very rarely wrote such letters; she
used occasionally to write to me letters begging intercession
in regard to her mother and complaining of my  views  ill
theol'ogy.
Q. Did you never receive letters from her complaining in
other respects? A. In what respects?
Q. Well in regard to people who were in the habit of
firequenting your house at your solicitation?  A. I have had
letters from her mother, complaining of Susan Anthony and
Mrs. Stanton; Mrs. Tilton thought Mr. Johnson and others
were leading me astray; she is very orthodox; and she wrote
me letters expressing strong and earnest hopes that I would be
intensely orthodox.
Q. Did she ever complain of any female society on that
ground, or in any way?  A. No.
Q. Did she never complain of the presence of any ladies at
your house?  A. I do not think of any.
Q. Not of Mrs. Stanton nor Susan Anthony? A. She said
she would consider it an insult if they came to the house; I
do not remember of any others.
Q. Mrs. Woodhull came a great deal didn't she?  A. She
was three times in my house, once to meet Mr. Beecher and
on two other occasions.
Q. Only three times? A. Three only.
Q. You say she came to meet Mr. Beecher?  A. She did on
Sunday afternoon at my house.
Q. Do you know when that was?  A. I think Mr. Moulton
made that interview; it must have been in 1871 or 1872,
because mny acquaintance with Mrs. Woodhull began in May,
1871; myimpression is that it was warm weather; Mrs. Woodhull
and her husband came; she always came with her husband.
Q. Did your wife comnplain of her being at your house?  A.
Yes; my wife came home, and Mrs. Woodhliull and Mr. Moulton
were sitting in the frontparlor.
Q. What happened?'A. Oh, nothing, except that Elizabeth
expressed her indignation against the woman; I told Elizabeth
312 
JfIS. TVOODIIULL'S VISITS.'
that she was too dangerous a woman, and that too muchl of
the welfare of our faimiily depended on her;  Elizabeth was
wiser than I was.
Q. Did yoa excuse your acquaintance with Mrs. Woodhull
to your wife by exciting, her fears?  A. I did not; I explained
that  acquaintance;  I told her tlheway  to get along with
Mrs. Woodihull ad prevent thiscomnling out, was to keep friendly
with her; it wvas a fatal pollcy, but then it scemed the only
thiin, that we could do.
Q. Was the time that Mrs. Tilton expressed her indignation
at Mrs. Woodltll's being, at your house the first time that she
had seen Mrs. Woodlhull, to your knowledge?  A. My impression is that she saw her in the Gol(e1d Aye office once.  It may
have beenl before or after.  I think Mrs. Woodliull came inll to
see me while Mrs. Tilton was there.
Q. With that exception, was the time when M}rs. Tilton
expressed her indignation at Mi'ls. Woodhluli's being at your
house the first time that she had se en her?  A. I (lo iiot lknow.
Oh, no; Mrs. Woodhull and Colonel Blood had takeni tea at
our house.
Q. Before MIrs. Tilton came in and found her there?  A.
Yes.
Q. At whose invitation did they take  tea tlhere?  A. At
mine.
Q. WaVs it the first time  Iris. Tilton saw Mrs. WVoodhull?
A. I do not knowv.
Q. lMrs. Tiiton always expressed i(ndignation at her being
there, did she not?  A. Yes, she h}[d a violent feelingi against
her; she had a woman's instiinct that Mrs. Woodhull was not
safe; the mistake was in not being friendly with Blood instead
of Mrs. Woodiull; that was the blunder; I was at fault for that
iobodv else.
Q. Did MtIs. Tilton continue her expressions of indignation
at your acquaintalnce with Mrs. Woodhull?  A.  Yes;  Mrs.
Tilton always felt that the policy was a mistaken one of undertt;king to do anything with  Mrs. Woodhilill; Mrs.  Tilton
objected -iolently to my writing the sketchi of Mrs. \Woodhlull
I read part of it to her; Mrs. Woodhliull's husband wrote a
biogralphy about her, anid wanted me to rewrite it, b)ecaus.e my
style was more vivid.; Mirs. Tilton said she thought I would rue
tlhe day; she was far wiser thiia I was.
Q. Then you never sutcceededl iii convincing your wife thlat
it was necessary to placate Mrs. Woodhull?  A. No, she had
14
0
31,11) 
1fPAS. TIL TON'S REP UGIANCE.
the opposite opinion; Mrs. Tilton had a strong repugnance
to Mlrs. Woodhull and to two or three other public womenMrs. Stanton and Susan Antlmony; she would not permit them
to come into the house, and( some of her letters were very violent
ag,ainst them; she was frequently with them for a long time
and took part with them in wonien's meetings, and then she
took a violent antagonismn to them after her troubles came oln.
Q. Did IMrs. Woodhull know of the antipathy of IMrs. Tilton
to her?  A. Yes; you could see it in the womeii's eyes; they
flashed fire; the moment they saw each other their eyes flashed
fire.
Q. It was perfectly evident, then, when the women came
to,gether, that they were thorouglhly antagonistic?  A.  Oh,
yes; thoroughly.
Q. Bitterly so?  A. I cannot say that Elizabethl had bitterecss; she had a certalini moral and religious repugnance.
Q. Did not she discard  IMrs. Woodhtll's  sentiments and
denounce them?  A. Mrs. Woodhull had not then expressed
her sentiments.
Q. Not in 1872?  A. This was not in 1-872; when I wrote
the sketch of Mrs. Woodhull she had never sai(d anything on
the subject of free love; lier ideas were spiritualism and woman's
suffrage.
By General Tracy-Q. Mr. Tilton, on page 51 of youir manuscript, in  subdivisioni  X, you say, "In  Decenber  1870,
differences  arose  between Theodore Tilton  and IlHenry C.
Bowen, which were augmented by  the lRev. tlenry  Ward
IBeecher and Als. Beechler. in consequence whereof, and at the
wvish of Mrs. Elizabeth R. T''iltoii expressed in writilng in a
paper put into the hands of," etc., you do not state then in
wlhose handwrititng it was.  A. It was Mrs. Tilton's.
Q. WVas it not in your handwriting?  A. It was not, sir.
Q. Did you not write that statement and get her to sign it?
A. No, sir.
Q. Did you dictate it in any mauner? A. I did not.
Q. D)id you write the origiial?  A. I did not.
Q. Was she well or sick at the time?  A. She was neither
one nor the other; she was ailing.
Q. Had she not suffered a miscarriage just previous? A.
Well, I do not know how long before; I cannot tell the date;
whether it came before r after I do not know; she was ill, I
know. 
Q. Was she not in bed?  A. Most of the time.
31-11
0 
B0 IATE~ N1 AND BEE,CIIERP'S DIF'TElIhEXCES.
Q. Was she not in bed at the time of the writing of this
paper? A. I do not remember.
Q. Do you remember whether she wrote it in bed or not?
A. I do not.
Q. Do vou not know that she had suffered a miscarriage a
few days before?  A. No; I knew she had suffered a mliscarriage before.
Q. Before the 24th day of December? A. I do not remember the date.
Q. Do you not know that she was very sick, and sick unto
death?  A. No, I do not know that she was sick unito death;
shel was ill, but not dangerously so.
Q. Who  suggested to her the writing of that letter?  A.
She did it herself.
Q. Was she conversant with the particular state of your
diffliculty with Mr. lIowen from time to time and from day to
day?  A. It was inot from day to day; I always informed her
what troubles I lhad.
Q. You say this letter was written in consequence of the
interference of Mr. and Mrs. Beechler? A. No, not precisely;
I say that the letter was written through her desire that he
and I should be reconciled.
Q. When you say that in "December,  1870, differences
arose between Theodore Tilton and Henry C. Bowen, which
were augmented by the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher and M rs.
Beecher; in consequence whereof, and at the wish  of Mrs.
Elizatbethl R. Tilton, expressed in writing in a paper put into
the hands of MIr. Francis D. Moulton," why do you say that it
was in consequence of that difficulty being attugmented by Mr.
and Mrs. Ieecclher that this letter was written or this writing
was made?  A.  Mrs. Tilton's confession to me  was in the
middle of the summer; she informed me shortly afterward
that she had taken occasion to let Mr. Beecher know that she
lhad made this confession, but she did not do that; I supposed
thalt hle knew of her confession, but hle did not know of it.  I
met MAr. Beecher on the street, and he was about to speak to
me; I did not speak to him; that, excited my suspicion of the
fact that lhe could not have known of Mrs. Tilton's confession;
so I said to her, " Elizabeth, did not you tell me  that Mr.
Beeclher knew what you had told me; to my mind he don't
knowv it;" she then informec( me that she could not bear to
let him know that she had confessed; then, I think, her sickiess came, thloughl my recollection of dates, as I have said is
315
0 
316    BO WEN WISHED TO CHANGE.EDITO?S.
very poor; tovwards the close of the year, or very near the close
of the year, Mr. Bowen wanted to make a change in the editorship of the In)del)endient; Mrs. Tilton was at Mrs. Morse's; she
had gone to stay there a little while; Mr. Bowen sent me a
notice or a letter, saying that he wanted the termination of
my contract as editor of the Ihdependcntt to take place six
months subsequently; I said to myself instantly, "If Mr.
Bowen wishes me to terminate the lndependent, I must give
him notice to terminate the Union; but before that I will
send to Elizabeth to come to the Union office and state this
proposition to her;" she came down and I informed her; I
said, "Now, I cannot afford to edit only one of these papers;
if I am to give up one I cannot keep the other;" when Mr.
Bowen proposed that I should give up one and retain the
other, I instantly said, "As he proposes that I shall give up
the Indepe)(dent I will give up the Union, and that will leave
me free to lecture."   After that, about the 23d or 24th of
December, Mr. Bowen came to have a consultation with me
and make new contracts, by which he should be editor of the
IndepenlZdent and I a special contributor of the Izdependent and
for five years the editor of the Un?io?u; that contract was signed
during the last week or ten days of 1870, and I published a
valedictory in the Independent speaking well of Mr. Bowen,
and he spoke well of me.
Somewhere about the 23d or 24th or 25th-between the publishing of that valedictory and the making of those two or
th    ree   contracts-Mr. Johnson came to my house and said,
" Mr.   Bowen        ha s  heard something prejudicial concerning you;
I              think you had  better go and see him."  It was saturday
ni ght. I           wen t    plump to his house and saw him, and said,
" M r.    Bowen, M   r. Johnson says that you know something
preju dicia      l to me." M r. Bowen said," I have my new editors
in consultation and it is Saturday night; come on Monday."
Monday was a holiday. Either Sunday was the actual Christm    a    s      or else Monday was, I do not remember which.  I went
on Monday with Mr. Johnson. I think this was on the 25th.
AVe  had a          little ta lk. It was mentioned that some story had
con               ie to Mr. Bowen.  I said, "Bring the person who  told it
into my presence and we will have the matter settled." I then
w      e      nt   on talking a bout the new contract which I was to enter
u p o n two                  or three days pence, as the editor of the Union for
fi            ve years; he s aid t hat  ought to make more of Plymouth
church and go to Pt ymouth church; Mr. Johnson said, "Per 
BO TVE.Y TIRIEATE NS.
haps this young man has a reatsonl for not going to Plymouth
cliurchl; " I gave him in a line to understand that I had lost
my respect for Alr. B3eecher, and could not, as a man maintainimg, my pride a,d self-respect, go there; at that, Mi'. Bowen
stated all the l)particulars thltt I chronicled of Mr. Beeclher in
that letter, only more vividly; at that Mr. Bowen made a
challenge that Alr. Beecher would retire from the ministry,
and said lie would bear it and fortify it with facts, and I signed
it and hle carried it; in a few hours Mr. Moulton came in and
I told him what I had donle, and he said, "You are a damned
fool, MIr. Bowen should have signed the letter as well as yourself; " the next morning I went to the Union office, and perhaps the morning after I wrote a little note to Mr. Bowen, the
substance of whichl was that I was going to have a personal
interview with Mr. Beecher; that I thlouglht was the mnanly
thing; MAIr. B3owen, the next morning, after he had instituted
this demand for the retirement of Mr. Beecier, and after sayingi that he would fortify it with facts, came to tlhe U~ion otlice
and said, "Sir, if you ever reveal to MAr. Beeclher the tlhings
that I told you and MIr. Johnson I will cashlier you;" it went
thrlo,ugh  my bloo(d; I s:li(l, "I will, at my discretion, utterly
uninfinened by you," and he was in a rage; then, after two or
three days, and while I was writing my first article for the
Jndependent under the new arrangement, as contributor instead of editor, there came (I guess it was the last niighlt of the
year) notices breaking my two contracts; those two contracts
had been made within a week, and were not to take effect until
the first of the year, and they were broken the last night of the
year, or the nighlt before; I went around to Frank with thlem,
and showed tlhefm to him immediately; the next day I wrote
my letter to Mri. Bowven; events came crowding togetlher pellmn-ll so thick and fast that I do not know how to disentangle
them.
Q. Why do you say that it was in consequence of the difficulty bei,ig ai,n-iented by Mir. and Mrs. Beecher?  A. Elizabetl saw tltat AMr. Bowen  iand I were in collision; she was
afr.aid( tlimt the collisionl would extend to Mir. Beecher and mnc,
and she wishled me, it' possible, to make  peace witih ]lini; that
p.iece could be biouiglht about oily by his knowing what I knew
of his rcl;[tions with Airs. Tilton; therefore, she wrote a womanly, kindly letter to him; I dooot remember the phraseology;
I remember only one pl'ase; it was  )eculiarly hers; she said
sh1e loved her lhusband withl her maideln flame; Mr. Moulton
will probably recall the whole phraseology.
f
31,7 
MRS. BEECFER INYTERFERES.
Q. What was the substance of the letter?  A. The substance
of the letter I do not recall; the letter was returned to her;
whether she has it or nbt I do not know; the object of the
letter was to make peace; she felt that if Mr. Beecher a(nd I
could be recolciled, slie herself and I would be m)re reconciled; thlere was,t sort of mountain of clouds overcoming us.
Q. Who h(td reported to her the fact that yourdiffitculty was
being auginented by Air. and'Mrs. Beecher? A. I do not kuiiw;
she reported it to Ine; it was throughi her thaLt I learned that
Mrs. B13eeclier was interfering witht my affairs; it was thlrough
MIrs. Tilton that I learned of Mrs. Beecher's antagonism to me;
I do not think Mr. Beecher was so largely involved in it as his
wife was.
Q. Had you known of Mrs. Beecher's interference with your
affaitrs prior to that?  A. I cannot say with my affairs-not
with my business affairs; with my domestic affairs; no, as I
recollect.  Elizabeth went sometimes to the Ihealth Lift, and
MIrs. Beecher came there and saw hler one day.
Q. Whalt date wtas tihat?  A. I do not know; Mrs. Beecher,
throulgh Mrs. Alorse, got the idea that I was Mr. Beecher's enemy; thlerefore Mrs. Beecher was very violently my enemy;
Alrs. Beeclher being my enemy, and feeling that I was benlt on
a battle against her husband, sought to make an alliance with
Elizabethl, aid, as I understand, wantedl Elizatbethl to go away
from nie anld part company, and she would not do it-the
trouble havinig hinged on the fact that Elizabeth had made me
and Mrs. Morse a confession, but had not tol MIr. Beecher
that she had done so; I said there was only one way out of the
difficulty, and that was that AIr. Beecher must know it.
Q. Did you say that to E1izabetlh?  A. I do not know avbout
that.
Q. Had you said it previous to that?  A. I do not know; I
felt greatly chagriined at her not hlaving told( him, as slhe s:tid(
she had; I could not understand why Mr. Beecher should
speak to mc oi0 the street, and I instantly said, "lie does niot
know it."
Q. You do not know when it was that he spoke to you oii
the strect-? A. My impressioi is that it could not lhave been
much later than his first comning back from the country.
Q. AVWhen was that?  A. All I can remember of that is tlle
picture of the man with a lnd of sunburn on him; if you will
ask Elizabeth all of these things she cain tell you; there was a
large mass of comnplications that were afterward explained.
318 
UNADE,R IN%FL UFiVCE.
.Q. Was not -frs. qTilton sick onl the evening of the 30th of
D)ecember and in bed?e A. I do not know whether she was or
not.
Q. Do not yout  know that one of your allegations or conmplaints was thl.it hle obtained( tlhait retractioi from hler vwhllil she
was sick in bed?  A. I know that sle wavts lying in bed.
Q. I)id you not charge Iimn with iniposiing tt1)on her because
she was sick?  A. Yes.
Q. And was she not sick?  A. I remember  the picture of
her lving ailing on the bed.
Q. WVlIat phvsician attended lher? A. I think Dr. Parker;
it may have been Dr. Stiles; lie was subsequently our 1)liysician.
Q. This first letter which you quote from A[rs. Tilton, on
page 35,in whicll she savs:-" Love is praisewvortly, but to
abuse the gift is sin; here I am strong; no temptations or fascinations," &c., what did you understand by thlat?  A. I unaderstood this-thlat she was in receipt of visits from him, andt that
she lhad once or twice felt that perhaps he was exercising aii
iundue influence upon her; I know that once I was afraid. sllhe
did not give me a correct account of his visits; tlhere were a
great many visits mentioned in her correspondence.
Q. Hlave you the letters here?  A. No.
Q. I thought that you were to briong them?  A. All the originals firom  which I have quoted I will carry befor,3 Judge RIeynolds or any judge, in the presence of General Tracy; I hll(ve
great confidence in you, gentlemen, but I do not propose to
produce theorig(inals lhere; if yotu will release one of y)our liuinher to go with me before any magistrate, I will produce them;
lIr. Moulton will, of course, be asked to produce his for examination, line for line; I do not suppose you would snattchl thleni
awvty or keep them, but at the same time I l)rol)osC that if you
would see thie or,iginals, General Tracy should go with me.
Q. Do you refuse to produce the originals before this com'nittec?  A. I do not refuse t,) produce themn to thle committee
in tlhe presence of some outside l)lparties.
Q. 1)o yE)U r,f tuse to produce them to the committee alone?
A.  Ye4, unless I can havre some fl'iejid here withl nme.
Q. Why didL yot not take tlhat position yesterday?  A. Bocause yesterday we latd only a cell.at.
Q. Ye-s, but did you not promise to produce them?  A. Yes,
and I do now.                ~
Q. But you decline exccpt in tlhe presence of ai oflicer?  A.
319
0 
T.THAT IS FRANK 
I decline unless I can be perfectly certain that they will l)e re turned to me; I don't want you to consider that as a dispar agement; it is only a necessary element iii this discussion;
you sl.all see the originals, but I will only show  them  under
saft,giiardis.
Q. Whly do you make that qualification?  A. For this rea son: you are six genltlemenet, dletermined, if possible, not to filid
the facts, but to vindicate ir. lBeecher, and I am alone.  There
are eight of you and I am at single man, and if I should hand
over to you llOw Ilr. Beechler's apology perhaps you would not
return it to me.  Tlhoiiglh I do not mean to make that ilnplica tioIl, I do not mean to give you the chance.  That is franik.
Mtr. lIill-lIet me say kin(dly, speaking on  behalf of both of
the coiunsel-tlhe committee imay speak for themselves-thllat
the sugtgestion of such a thleory is altogether groundless.
(Gie erial T'racy-It is not only groutndless, but outrageous.
MIr. Itill-I think you are unjust.
Ir. lTilton-I have been informed that this is a matter of life
and death.
Mlr. Claflin-'I'This committee could not afford to take that
position.  It iwouldc not do to take those letters from you.
Mir. Tilton-I am perfectly willing to bring several lfied(s of
nliiie IIand makle  ii examination of these letters; you shall see
them; but under proper sttfe,guards-that is all; if Mr. Tracy
were in my position lie would take the same ground.
General Tricy-No, hle would not, I beg your pardon.
Q. At the beginiiilng of the ac(lquailtance of lMr. Beecher withl
your faminily —iot witll you or your wife, but with your famnily
— did not youI invite him frelquently to your house?  A. Yes,
sir; and I was always very proud wheni he came.
Q.  J)id you not say to him often tlhat youII desired  him
to visit your house fielquently?  A. 1 did, anld always scolded
him because hlie did lot come oftcner; during the first pLart of
our lifet we weie in ()Oxford street, so ftr away that he very rarely
canme; the frequency of his visits tookplace after I purchased
the house in Livingston street.
Q. \llheii was that?  A. I have forgotten the year; I should
say it was seven, or eihtt, or nine, or tcn years ago.
Q(2. I)id not you say that there was a little woman at your
house that loved him  dearly?  A. I did, many a time; I always wanted himn to come ol'tener.
(. You frequently spoketo him of the high esteem and affection that your witeoore to him, did you not?  A. I did; lie
knew it and 1 knewv it.
320
0 
THlEIRP INTIMA  C Y.
Q. You always knew it?  A. I cannot say that I always did,
because at first, during thle carly years of my married( life, I felt
that Mr. Beechler rather slighlted my fLmily; he was iiitimnate
with me, and I think loved me; but he di(l not use to come
very often to my house, and it did not please me; I wanted liim
to come oftener.
(. And it wounded you, did it not?  A. I cannot say that I
was wolunded; I was a mere boy; it was a matter of pride to
have him there; Elizabeth at first was modest and frightened;
she did not know how to talk with him, or how to entertain
l)im, and it was a slow process by which he obtained her conllideuce so that she could talk with hin; it was the same with
Mr. Greeley; he had great reverence for her, and had an exalted opinion of her; I do not think there was a woman  that
he lhad a  higher regard for than Mrs. Tilton.
Q. And did she not have a high regard for him also?  A.
Yes.
Q. And that was known to you too?  A. That was known
to me, and I was very glad of it.
Q. Mr. Greeley came to your house often?  A. lie used to
come and stay sometimes in the summer a week or two at a
time; we kept bachellor's hall; yes, he came often; it was always a white dlay when Mr. Greeley came; he used to say that
he never would come in my absence; he said it was not a good
lhabit.
(2. Did you urge him to come when you were off lecturing?
A. I (li(d.
(2. l)id not you impress upon /lr. Beecher the necessity and
desire that you had, that hle would( call uponI your family and
see your witc frelqulently during, your absence?  A. I di(l.
Q. Now. MIr. Tilton, you have stated the religious character
of your wife; willyou describe it agaiii?  A. My wifte's religious
character I have, if you will pardon the allusion, undertaken
to set forthl in the book that I have spent a year in writing-a
vwoilk of fiction called "Tempest Tossed "-a name strangely
borrowed from my own heaving breast; in that novel is a characteri, Mary Vail; I do not want to say vainly before the public
that I drew that character for Elizabetl, but I did; there is a
cliapter-the ninth, I think (I won't be certain about the ntlmb)er)-wvhiclh is called " Mary Vail's Journal;" I know it is
good because I made it uip from -lizabetli's letters, and my heart
wia.s cleft in twain to fin(l n these letters some of thl same sentences that crept into thlis chapter; I changed tlhem consider           14*
ol
321
0 
'TEMZ[PEST TOSSLED.
ably to make them conform to the story; I had this feeling,
that if in this novel I could, as a mere subordinate part of the
story, paint that character, and lihave it go quietly, inl an underhalnded way, forthl, that it was Elizabeth (for I think I drew
it faithfully) it would be a very thloroug,h answer, as coming
1'ro)m me, to the scandals ill the comlmnunity, and that people
would say, "Theodore respects his wile," as I do to-(day.
Q. Was it a truthful clhaLracter of Elizabeth? A. It was; it
was not drawn as well as the original would warrant.
Q. You say it was not drawnii as well as the original would
warrant; then her devotion and purity of life would warrantt a
higher character than you have given "Mary Vail" in that
book?  A. Yes, unless you attach a technical meaning to the
Yword purity; she was made a victim.
Q. You say that the character in that book falls below the
original?  A. Yes, because I did not make it a promincent but
a subordinate character.
Q. Are there any other persons that figure in this drama
who are described in that book, "Tempest Tossed?"  A. No,
except by mere suggestions.
Q. Is not your true friend described there?
Mr. Tiltoii-You mean Mr. Moulton?
General Tracy-Yes.  A. No; of the characters in "Tempest Tossed" Mary Vail is the only one that is true to life; the
character of the colored woman was partly suggested by a colored woman that I knew.
Q. You have brought forward the letter of your wife where
she describes herself as having received new light, as l)aving
read the character of CLatherine Gaunt iin  " riffith Gaunt;"
have you read the character of Catherine Ganut?  A. Yesterday I said no, but I have an impression that I lSave; a friend
of mine yesterday morning said that it is a singular result from
"The Terrible Temptation;" Charles Reade has written a
book called "The Terrible Temptation;" I have never read
that book, but oni second thloulght, I think I have read "Griffith
Gaunt;" my impression is tlhat I read it on a journey, and
that I wrote something to Elizabeth about it and asked her to
read it.
Q. Did you think that the guilt of " Catherine Gaunt" was
that of adultery? A. I have no idea that I did.
Q. Has there been athange in your religious views since
you were married:' A. Yes, sir. very decided, I am happy to
say; I think there is in every sensible man's.
322
-S 
SE 1S.'R E BEIS' CLIP,STIA..
Q. Do you klnow whether the chlange in your religious convietions was a source of great grief and sorrow to your wvife?
A. It was a great source of tears and agluishl to her; shle said
to me once that denying the divinity of Christ in her view, nullified our marriage almost; and I tlink next to the sorrow of
this scandal, it has caused that woman to sorrow more than
aiy thing else she has suffered; because 1 calnnot look upon
the Lord Jesus Christ as the Lord God; I think her breast l.as
been wvrencl-ied with it; she is almost an enthusiast on the subject of the divinity of her Savior.
Q. You think her a Clhristian, do you?  A. Yes; slhe is the
best Christianl I know of; barring her faults; better than any
minister.
Q. Well, on the whole, do yo)u not think that she is about as
white as most ChrIistians?  A. Yes, whiter thlan ourselves.
Q. Then you would not qualify the expression when you say
that she is the best Christian you know, barringo her faults?
DI)o not you think tllat she is thle best Christian you know with
lier faults?  A. No.  I would not say that, because  there
has been a stronig deceit wroughrlt out in Elizabeth tliat comes
fiomn the weakness of her cliaia.eter; she has had three strong
personis to circulate among-MrAl. Beecler, her mlothler and me;
in s<tntiment slshe ontdoes us all; her life is shipvwrecled, but
slhe is not to blame; I will main tain that to my dying day.
Q. Do not you kiowv tllait in tlhese exig,encies slhe so,tuglt consolLtioni from her pasto?  A. I think she did; and lie took
a l-aiitange of her ortho(dox views to make tllem the net and the
leslh iii wlich hle ennaU d1 lier, and 1()r whieli I hold him ilii a
contempt whlichl 1no Einlish words ctan describe.
Q. Thle change of your religious views has been the subject
of a grCeit de4l  of conversation and a,nguishl  and lL)bor oi lier
part, hits it not?  A. Oh, yes-of letters and prayers and tears
ii llt eii treaties, many a time aInd oft.
Q. When you sly thlit this lTas b(eii the thingr which lihas
ena,bl)ed her to be elnsnarel, (lo you micn bly that, that you think
til:t vL,ws the calise, whiy, in some degree, leer confidence in the
jidlment mil(l ad(vie of llcer pastor *was increased, an(d wliy
yoiur influlence over her was lessened?  A. Oli yes; largt,ely so;
tllololl(rih ly so.
Q. Tlieii when you fouind that she was leaning more strongly
thin formerly onl the advice a,d consolation of her pistor, and
less on your own, you attribiute(l it naturally to your change in
religious sentiments?  A. Yes; at thle same time I did not
323
0 
324      APlAtKL,'D FEA-4TURE OF IIER CARAl:ICTI,R.
w,at Elizabethl to hold my view; I said that she might be a
Catholic or a iIohammedan.
Q. Did she not feel that your views were a source of danger
to the children?  A. Yes; shle would not let the children have
plaything(s on Siunday; Jolhn G:Wlhittier came to our hlouse
(he appointed the tilme), and Mr. Greeley, and met Mr. Johnson; and it almost broke  Elizabeth's heart to think that the
best man in New England, whom she reverenced, should hlave.
apl)ointed Sunday night; she never received visitors onl Sunday
Q. Is it not a feature in her character tllatt she has great
reverence for those men whom she belives to be Ipure in life,
and noble in thloulght and spl)irit?  A. Yes; she would kiss the
hem of their garments.
Q. That is a marked feature of her clharacter, is it not?  A.
'Uncommonly so.
Q. Does it not almost go to the extent of idolatry in one
sense?  A.  TWell, no; there are a great many women who look
upon a manl with a sense of worshli); Elizabeth iiever did tlhat;
Elizabeth is the peer of any man; at the same time she reverences; it was not vanity-it was reverence; she never regarded
Mr. Beecher as a silly woman regards him; she was not a silly
woman taken captive; she was a wise, good woman taken captive; there are;; great many people, particularly women, who,
if President Grant should call oil them, would feel greatly iltttoered; I do not think she would; but if she regarded l'President
Grant.s matni of high religious nature, coming with the Gospel
in his hand and devoted to the evlangelical religion, then,
whether he wvere famous or lowly, she would reverence him.
Q. So must there not 1)o connected with her reverence the
idea of abl)solute purity of life, as wvell,is of religious character?
A. Yes.  I think  Elizabeth rega(rded 3Ai-. 13eeclher, iii early
days, ias the essence of all that was religious, apostolic; I think
she looked upon him very much as she would look upon the
Apostle'Paul.
Q. And you ulnderstood thlat?  A. Yes, and iiin ftact looked
upon him  so in my early life; I loved that manl as well as I
ever loved a womatiin.
Q. And is it not true that tllere is notlhing that your wife so
much abhors in mllail or woman as imp)urity?  A. Exactly so.
Q. The fact tliat she believed that any persons were impure,
lhowever, if it were otherwfe, she might reverence them, would
destroy her respect, tnd reverence for them would it not? A.
It vwould in those days.  [iere Mr. Tiltoii gave in illustration 
ELIZABETH'S PURITY.
the instance of a gentleman who his wife felt had insulted her
by slaying that he sympathtized with her, and hoped that she
would lift up her lhead in self-respect, remarking thlat Tilton's
chief temptation had been temiptation to the sill of thte sex(es.]
1Mr. Tiltoii resiiming:  I do not thlink lie did it vindictively,
but thle fact that lie could have done it at all, burned in her
blood.
Q. Was slhec not distressed at any suggestion of impropriety?
A. She was particularly so; and she is more so now thanl ever,
because in her early days such a thoulght was never in hler
mind; but wlhen it had )passed through hler experience it came
out witli this contrition; I tlhink t]-hat hers is one of thle white
souls; that is the trutlh of the case; shle never otught to lfave
beeci taken away from her home; you genltlemen did it; you
did it, AMr. Tracy.  "Thoui art the man."
Q. WVill yon state more distinictly than you hlave done what
you ulnderstand by tlhat letter of February 3d, 1868, in which
she s,tvs:-" Love is praiseworthy, but to abuse the gift is sin.
Thllere I am strong.  No temptation or fascination could cause
me to yield my womanhood?"  A. I quoted that letter to
show how strong her views were at that time.
Q. Did you quote it for thle purpose of showing that at that
time she was being temnpted? A. I have heard her say the
substance of that over and over again.
Q. When?  A. I do not know when; a long time ago, years
ago, wvlen he (MIr. Beeclhe) used to go thlere; it was not becautse I lead any suspicion of him thlen; Elizabethl always felt
that when IMr. Beecher went to such and suchl  a place there
were womeni tlhat would flatter himn; I do not thlink she did at
all; shle has always been a stickler for tle honor of hler sex;
she said to herself, "I will represent my sex."
Q. In othler words, she wanted to slhow him purity of sentimenit, and of comnmunion of mind without passioln? A.  That
is whaltt, she i,ant, I think.
Q. Tllzt is N,at you ulnderstood her to mean?  A. That is
exacetly what I understood her to mean.
Q2. For years? A. Yes, sir.
Q. That is the way you looked upon the relation between
thlom for years?  A. I oughlt to say for the earlier years.
Q. When did you first bring, to your wife's attention the fact
tlhat you feared thlat there w* something wrong?  A. Elizabethl so blotted that out of my mind that I did not think of it
iagi n.
0
t
325 
.tE IS z J1;SlLES$ J[LiY.
Q. How long ago was it?  Years ago?  A. Yes, as I recol lect it, it must have been (lurIing thle cearly years when we lived
in LiNivingston street, in our present house.
Q. Ilow long haveC you lived there?  A. I do not know.
Mr. WTinslow —Abolt ten yeas, I remember.
General Tracy-It was.a great many years ago?  A. Yes.
Q. Was it before 1S(S'?  A. Long before.
Mr. Cltflin-IIn'64, probabl)ly.
General Tratcy-Was it before 1865?  A. About 1862.
Q. Where did you live at the b)eginning of the war?  A. I
am very mnuch aslamed that I am never able to answer suchl   a
question.
Q. You say thlat it was in the early years of your living at
No. 174 Livingston street?  A. Yes; pictures are vivid to me,
anid I remiember where Elizabeth was sitting iu the corner of
miy  )arlor; I spoke to her.Lboitt it when we came home.
Q. Ilow lollg since was it that you have mentioned that sub
ject to any one until you put it in this communication?  A.
Shle blotted it out of my mind.
Q. Did you ever speak of it to any one?  A. She blotted out
all wroing as concerninig lher in the circumstance.
Q. You never menetioned( it to Mr. Beecher?  A. I was very
young in those days and utterly unsuspicious of stieli things,
atld lwhen I spoke to her about it she was a little confused and
denied it; anld then said it was so, but that she li(ad said "You
must not do that;" I had in those davs somethingi of the same
reverence for Mr. Beeclier thlat I have since so eminently lost.
Q. Do you klow wllo was present besides your wife and Mr.
Beeclier? A. Nobody.
Q. Tlhere wis nobody there but you three-you were looking
at engravings?  A. Yes.
By Mr. Winslow-AV-Were( you sitting on the floor? A. Not
the wvlole of the time; I reimemiber that those twvo were sitting
down oil the floor withl  thle pictures; I am a restless sort of
miiin, aind I do not know wheire I was; it was a loung time aao.
Q. 1)o you say that you sawit withl your owi eyes?  A. With
my owI eyes.
Q. Do you remember whlether Mr. B(eclher lookled at you
first?  A. No; he did not  know that I ltoticed it; I was standing lip, I tliink; I have to bring up tliei)icture iii my mind; I
do not remembnl)er exaetlyevlietlher I wa-"tandingi or sitting;
perhlaps I was in a clair; I know that there was a kind of portfolio folded out atid that the pictures were folded down (indi
I'D' 2 6
-b 
J'IIlA' 1ANKLE'SUESFI.
c,ating with the lhiands); she was sitting onl the floor or on a
stool, and hle on tile floor.
Q. Were you whlere he could see you? A. IHe was looking
at tlhe pictures.
Q. If he lad looked ll) would hle have seen you?  A. Yes.
By Genierltt Tracy-Yoa were looking at some pictures in
the roonm?  A. Yes; these things were on lier lap.
Q. WVha,t part of her person did hle touchl? A. Her alikles
and lower linibs.
By Mr. Winslow-Not above the klnee?  A. No.  If he had
lie I)rol),lbly would lhave been struck; it was a questioni in my
min(l whether a minister could consider that a proper sort of
caress.
Q. Was it done slyly?  A. Yes, very slyly; his right or left
arm wis ulnder her dress.
By (General Tracy-low were tlhey sitting? A. My impressionI is that she was sitting on some little stool and hle on the
floor by her side, anid thrat solne pictures were, perhaps, put up
.igainst thle chltir and lfolded, and t}iat it was by an accidentalt
brIslsllilg 1up of her dress tlha,t I saw his hand oil her ankle.
Q. Do you know iwhlethier it was accidental or casual with
him?  A. I only know tlhat I asked lier.
Q. Could you know whethler it was accidental or intentional?
A. I spoke of it to her; she aIt first denied it and then confessed it, and said that shle had chidden him; I didl not attach
mtllch importance to it after the exp)laination was made.
Q. You were ili doubt wiethler it was intentional or accidenttal?  A. It wiavIs merely a suspicion.
Q. How about the bedchainber scene?  A. That was a long
wilile (agO, aild that was blotted out of my mind too.
Q. A\ leii was it?  A. I do not remember thte year; it was a
good whiile ago.
iBv Mr. M Winslow-Before or after the ankle scene?  A.
Before.
Q(. IIow lonig? A. I do not know.
Q. Blc!ore 186S?  A. I do not know.
Q. After you were living ill Livingst)n street?  A.  Yes;  I
remember thle room; againi, I identify it by tile picture; it was
in the left hand room; I have two fiont rooms on thle second
story, and it was the left hand of these two rooms; I knocked
at tlhe door and Elizabeth clie; I was surprised that it was
locked; she was surprised at finding me;  Mr. Beecller was sitting in a red plush rocking cllair-a sort of Ottomanl  chair
327
0 
EPBEN,EFIT OF THE _)OUBT.
with his vest unbuttoned; his face colored like a rose whenI I
saw him.
Q. How long ago was that?  A. I do not know.
Q. Ilow loiong had you lived iln Liviiigston street at this time?
A. Do not renembct)er. 
Q. tlad you lived thelreC for two or three years? A. That I
do ilot know; I should say I hIad lived there, perhaps, two
yeaurs.
Q. Was it during tlhe war?  A. Tliat I (lo not know.
Q. Do you know whlether it was before or after your visit to
Fort Sumtcr?  A. No.
Q. The exIp)lllation1 was satisfactory to you on that occasion?
A. Elntirely so.
Q. So tlhat you let it be, and attril)buted nothing to it?  A.
Yes, I attributed nothing to it; if tlhe door had been simply
shut, I should have thought ilothing of it, but the door being
locked I wondered at it.
Q. Was there more thaln one door leading to that room?  A.
One door comes in froll the 1all.
Q. Was tlhere alny otlher door leading into the room from the
otller room?  A. There is a middle door colllmunllicating between the two rooms.
Q. Two sliding doors?  A. Yes.
Q. And was there a door leading from the hall to the other
room?  A. Yes, that is the plan ot tlhe house.
Q. And the room that Mr. B)eeclhe  amd your wife were in
was a room commnull icatilig with  another room with sliding
doors?  A. Yes.
Q. WVlat was that room  used for that Mr. Beecher was in?
A. A bedroom.
Q.'Vas there a bed in it?  A. Yes, sir.
Q. Is tlhe other room a sitting room?  A. It is.
Q. Did you try that door wlhicil led into the sitting room?
A. No.
Q. Why? A. Because I camne and ll(lknocked at the hall door.
(. i'or auglit you know, thle(y lit(l gone into the sitting room
fi'oii tle hlall, an(i t1r(-)lil thlere Air. Beeclcher luay lhave golie illto
tle bedroom?  A. Yes; I will give them  tlde benefit of the
ldoubt.
Q(2. Was it explained to your satisfaction?  A. Yes.
Q.  Whalt was the exp)latptioil that satisfied you?  A. The
annoyance of thle children; my wife said that our children aLid
some of thle neilghbors' children were mlakingl a noise, and she
0
32S 
IIE NE VER BLAZONiED IT.
wanted to have a quiet talk with  Mr. Beecher, and so she
locked herself in.
Q. That satisfied you? A. That satisfied me; it was entirely
reasonable; I only quote it as a suspicion.
Q. Do you remember lwhethler the sliinug doors leaduin from
this room to the sitting room were opeii?  A. They were shut;
I remember it because I looked in; I saw the two white doors
coiniug together; the picture is distinct to my mind; I do not
forget pictl,res.
By Mr. Clafliin-Q. Was the door opened immediately?  A.
Yes; I do not want you to think tlit I tlhoutght there was anythiug wrong at that interview at all.
Q. The picture of the room was the only reason you have for
believing that the sitting room door was shlut?  A. Yes, sir.
Q. Did the explanation so satisfy you tlhait tlha;t thing was
blotted from your remembrance?  A. Yes.
Q. So you have never regarded that circumstance as evidence
of wroIng in any one?  A. No.
Q. Have you ever mentioned that?  A.  I rather think I
have.
Q. Why?  A. Because afterwards there arose circumstances
which made me feel that ttheC expliiantioi' whichl she had givenl
of these two events was not true.
By Mr. Winslow-To whom  did you state it?  A. I think
to my mother; I do not recollect; I never made any blazonry
of it, you know, abroad; I never thought, really, that there
was any wrong in it until in the light of subsequent events; I
(10o not say now that there was any wrong in it; Elizabeth always denied stoutly to me that aniything, wrong llhadtl taken
l).lace at that time.
Q. What kind of a room was that sitting, room?  A. It was
thel common sitting room of tlhe house.
Q. The rialght Ihand( p-rt was the sitting room, and the left
liand part was the bedroom commttlicattilgl, with it by sliding
doors?  A. Yes.
Q. That is, where you receive your intimate friends?  A.
Yes.
Q. If you had found Mr. Beecher withl your wife in the sitting room you would have found lim whlere you should have
expected to find him, would you not?  A. Yes.
Q. If the door had not becie locked you would not have
thought anythinig of it?  A. No; I should have been laIppy to
have seen him; we were in the best possible relations in those
It
329
0 
liV A  VAPORO US CLIO UD.
days; nobodv was a more welcome guest at our lholse thanli he.
Q. Now, Mir. Tilton, can -you say whletlier this scene was
before the date of thtt letter of Fel)ruary 3d(, 1868? A. Yes, it
must have been a long time before tlhat, I think; I vwon't be
certaini; it must hlave been a lotg, time before 1868.
Q. You say that her letters informed you that tMr. Beecher
I a l made twelve pastoral visits at your house in live weeks?
A. I have those letters.
By MIr. Hill-You have all the letters from wiichl you say
you discovered that the twelv( visits were made wllieii you were
away?  A. Yes.
Q. And those you will produce? A. I think that perhaps I
will.
By General Tracy-It was written here (in Mr. Tilton's com
munication) six and changed to five weeks —which is correct?
A. (After some explanations.)  It is correct as it is there.
Q. You say, Mr. Tilton, for a year after what you state as
Mrs. Tiltoh's confession, she insisted to you tha.st s  hatd nlot
violated her mnu'riage vow?  A. Yes; Elizabeth was in a sort
of vatporous likle cloud; shle was between light and dark; she
could not see that it was wrong; slie mailntained to her motlher
in my presence that sle lhad not done wrong; she cannot bear
to do wrong; a sense of hlaving done wrong, is enouglh to crush
her; she naturally seeks for her own peace a conscielntious verdict; she never would have had these relations if she lhad supposed at the time that they were wrong; Elizabeth never does
anything that at the time seems wrong; for such a large moral
nature, thlere is a lack of a.certain Lalanlce and equipose; she
has not a will that guides and restrains; but Elizabethl  never
does at any time that whlich does not have the stamp of Tier
conscience at the time upon it.
Q. Do you say that she did or did not insist tihat sloe had
violated her marriage vows?  A. Shle always was s,Lyillng llt
'"it never seemed to her wroni';" and "T'Theodore, I do not see
tlhLt I have wronged you."
Q. What do you unlderstand her as meaning by "To love is
praiseworthly, but the abuse of love is sin?"  A. 1 rather think
she meaLnt carrying love to too great anl extent.
Q. Would not that include criminal relati(ns?  A. Yes.
Q. Then you understand her, as early as 18S;68, as saying thlat
the abuse of the gift oflove by adultery would be a sii?  A.
Yes.
Q. She is a lady of intelligence, is she not  A. She is in
3 "I 0 
ELIZABETII A CRITIC.
some respects a lady of extraordinary intelligence; she has a
-   rcmarkable gitt at times which anIybody might envy; there is
notliing low about Elizabeth.
Q. Is shle a lady of large reading?  A. There are very few
latdies of larger rediingo; she was educated at the I'acker Insti tute; I do not think she took quite a full course; she reads
much to her blind aunt anid to thie children; I used to read a
good deal to her; she was a good critic;'. Beelher carried
to lher sheets of his "Life of Christ" and many chapters of
"Norwood; I used to read to her many things.
Q. What do you say about the' lilc of Christ" and "Nor wood "-that he carried them to her to criticise?  A. Yes, or
not exactly to criticise; she is not a critic in the sense that she
can take a particular phrase and change the language of it;
but she could tell whether a little speech put into Rlose Went worth's mouth was one a woman would be likely to say.
Q. He took those chapters to read to her for that purpose,
having a  highl regard( for her opinion in that matter-niot as
high regard for her opinion in a strictly critical sense?  A.
No; but in thle sense whether it was woimlianly, and  larger ti-an
that, whether it touched  Iihu man  sympathy or not.  I remember
that he took her the first shieet of the "LIife of Chlrist; she
wrote to me sa.yiing, "lie said he had not read it to anybody
else."
Q. When did he write "Norwood?"  A. I do not know.
Q.  When  did he write his first volume of his' Life of
Christ?"  A. It was after "Norwood," I think.
Q. It was published after "Norwood?"  A. I do not know
about that.
Q. You know he took it to her to read? A. I know, be cause she wrote it in her letters; I believe she told the truth;
you ask about "Norwood" and the "Life of Christ;" he had
brought tlhe opening part of the "Life of Christ" and I think
also chapters of " Norwvood."
Q. You underst-and that he brouglht them to her for the pur pose of criticism?  A.  Yes.
Q. You yourself would regard her as an admirable critic?
A. Ohi, yes; I always liked to take everything I wrote to Eliza b)etl; sometim es wheni I thought I had( writtcii anythinig par ticularly niice I ran down and read it to her; she was one of
tlhe best of critics; she never poised an article because it was
mine or his, bitt onily wllen she liked it.
Q. You found hel judgment not warped by her affections in
331
0 
THEODORE HATED THE CHUPCIT.
that?  A. No, that is the particular feature of her character:
if a lady were sittilig at the piano and playing, and Elizabeth
loved that lady vIeryV muchl, shle would tell her about the playing' —tlat it wias good or that it was not-but she would nIot
say that the playing was good because she loved the woman;
she would not say so unless it was good; I was always quite
certain that if Elizabethl liked what I wrote she did not like it
on my account, ttughll she was glad when I wrote a good thing;
it was an honest criticism; if I had been a minister none of
this trouble wvould have come; she was always in sorrow that I
was not a minister-which is the only virtue that I possess;
tlank God that I do not belong to the priesthood or the
church; it may not be an acceptable statement to the committee.
Q. Do yout mean by that, Mr. Tilton, that the want of strong
religious feature in your chalraceter was what she missed in you?
A. No, iMr. Trtacy, it was Inot that; because, though I shlould
not like to say it of myself, yet I am a more religious man than
most men of my acqutaintance-that is, I am a man of religious
sympathies who thorought,ly hates and despises religious creeds;
I do not btUlieve in oine of the thlirty-nine articles, nor in either
of the cateclhisms, nIor in the divinity injunction of thlle Scriptures, nor in the divinity of Christ, in the sense in wlichl it is
held.  I believe his writings to be enflooded by the Divine
breath.  It was not tlha.t I lhck religious spirit.  A m,an ought
not to say that, perhaps, of himself; but I do not lack the religious spirit; I love God, and am fond of religious sentiment,
but I hlate the creeds; I was taughlt to hlate them during the
anti-slavery controversy; I sawV the churches selling thlle negroes,
and I despl)ise a church; nowV put it dowl  there (to a reporter);
say that I (lesl)ise the church, and generally despise ministers.
Q. Well, it was tlhat lack of reverence for the church and its
ordinances and your lack of belief inl the divinity of Christ as
she held it tlat she missed in vou?  A. Yes.
Q. And she grieved over it?  A. Oh yes, indeed; grieved
over it with tears.
Q. An(l lwh-at she found wanting in you she found in Mr.
Bee,lier, did she not?  A. Yes, she did, and he took advanittagoe of it; that is why I say hle ought to sp)end the rest of hlis
life in penitence aind atnguish; if Mr. Beecther hltd held the
same religious views th$a I hold, and gone to that house denying, thle divinity of Chlist, he niever could have made any ap1)roach to her, and the aifectionl and love whlich she bore to him
332 
ELIZABETIT A MYSTIC. 
would never have existed-I mean the strong affectioin-it could
not possibly have done so?
Q. The enthusiasm for hlim which she felt would never have
existed in that case?  A. No.
Q. You have no doubt that it was that feature in his character which roused her enthusiasm an&.made him to her a sort
of poem, did it not?  A. Yes, a sort of apostle; I think she
regarded MIr. Beecher almost as though Jesus Christ himself
had walked in; that is an extravagant expression, but you
must not take it literally; I know that she wanted to make the
children look upon the clergy with reverence; she ought to be
an intense Roinaii Catholic, like RMme. Guioin-a mystic; I
think she certainly spends hours on her knees some days; I
don't suppose a day ever passes over Elizibethl that the sun, if
he could peep thlroug,h the windows, would not see her on her
knees, and my oldest daulghter, Florence, though she looks like
me, is like her mother; here has come this great calamity on
my house; there was that publication last lnight; she saw it;
and this morning what did The do?  I heard a noise in the
house, and found that she was down in the front parlor playing
on the melodeon like a heroine, standing in the midst of this
calamity like a rock in the sea; she gets that somewhat from
me; I can stand all storms; she gets also from her mother the
religious inspiration; Florence this morning had a genius for
religion, when you would suppose that she would have been
crushed; you (General Tracy) are not stronger in the court
room than she was this morning  at that musical instrument.
Q. You use the expression in regard to your daughter "genius
for religion;" does not that express the character of your wife?
A. Yes-even more so; my daughter is more intellectual; she
is an abler and more stable woman, though not so sentimental,
and less demonstrative; they are both great characters.
Q. Well, she is a character who could have an intimacy and
reverence and enthusiasm for a man of Mr. Beecher's temperament and religious convictions and teachings, and carry it to an
extreme length without the thought of passion or criminality?
A. I do not think the thoughts of passion and of criminality
were in her breast at all; I think they were altogether in his;
I think she thotughlt only of her love and reverence.
Q. Such a chlaracter would not excite the thought of jealousy as to her? A. Not in tle slightest; I never had the
slightest feeling of jealousy in regard to Elizabeth.
333
0 
3SHELOVED H. W.B.
Q. The fact that she was manifesting this enthusiasm and
all that, would not lead you to suspect her motives and purity
originally?  A. It would not; later it did.
Q. For how long a period?  A. I do inot know; I remember
I wrote her some letters wAlich, if she has kept them, would fix
the date; there was a time wien I felt that Mr. Beecher was
using his influence greatly upon her.
Q. To control her in her domestic relations witli you? A.
No, but to win her; hie was always trying to get her to say
that she loved him better than me.
Q. She never would say it?  A. I don't think she ever did.
Q. You do not believe she ever felt or believed it, do you?
A. No; that is to say, in one sense she loved him; she loved
his rel'gious views, the loved him as an evangelical minister;
but I don't think that on the whole lie was as much to her as
I was; still, of course, Mir, Tracy, I cannot question her motives; if she should say lie was more to her than I was I cannot dispute it.
Q. You set out a letter that she wrote on the night of December 30th, after you returned to your house, referring to the
retraction she had given to Mr. Beecher; did she write that
letter or did you? A. She wrote it.
Q. Did you dictate it? A. No.
Q. Why did she write it?  A. Because I asked her to make
a calnl statement of what she had designed in this letter to Mr.
Beecher.  She was in such a state of agony that she told me
she could not recall her letter to him; she said she had given
him this letter that he might fortify himself in a council of
ministers; I asked her to take a pen at the end of the evening
and give the exact circumstances and explain what she meant
by it, and she wrote that lettei:; it was only the next day that
the other letter came back, and then this one ceased to be of
any importance; what struck me in that business as so damnable in iMr. Beecher, was that after coming and confessing to
me and Mr. Moulton his criminal relations with Mrs. Tilton,
and then asking to see her a few minutes, and going around
the corner to see her, he should have come back again in half
an hour, expressing his absolute heartbrokenness, whereas he
had in his pocket this retraction from her; I say it was damnalle and nefarious.
Q. Do you say that when you saw Mr. Beecher at Mir. Moulton's house Mr. Moultd( was present? A. Yes, he was present in this way-Iwanted a lengthy interview with Mr. Beecher
0
334 
THEE iETRACTIO:~.
alone, and wlheu he came into the room I locked the door and
put the key in my pocket, and narrated in order, Elizabeth's
confession; it was a long one, and it would have been intdelicate for me to touch it with any more elaboration than I have
here; I do not wvishl to be questioned about it; it was a long
story.
Q. Was Mir. Mloulton present? A. Not at that part of the
interview; after the door was opened hle was; the interview
that we three together lhad, was very short; I was on the stairs
while Mr. B eclher talked with Mr. Moulton on the stairs; that
interview was to bring me and Mr. Beecher together; the next
time we all three had an interview.
Q. This retraction, you say in your communication, Mr.
Beecher returned to you through Mr. Moultonl; is that true?
A. Yes, sir.
Q. Was that retraction ever delivered to you? A. I have
got it nowv.
Q. Is it not in the possession of iMr. Moulton? A. Yes, but
it belongs to me; Mr. Moulton had a safe place and I had not,
and hlie has some of my papers.
Q. Do you mean to say that Mr. Moulton delivered that
retraction to your actual keeping, and that yout have had
possession of it for any length of time? A. Hlie did deliver it
to me, and it was sent back to him.
Q. I ask you vlwhether Mr. Moulton delivered that retraction
to you and you kept it?  A. Mr. Moulton put that retraction
into my hand; exactly what I did with it-whether I carried
it to my safe or nlot-I do not remember; I took a number of
papers and put them in his keeping because I had no safe
place.
Q. How long do you think you had p)ossegsion of that paper?
A. I do not remember; I never saw the retraction till it was
brought back to me; then I read it; it may be that I never
took it away from Mr. Moulton's house; it was sent back to
me; it was put into my hand; I read it, and I made a copy
of it.
Q. In shlort-hand?  A. Yes.
Q. Did you ever have it longer than that? A. Yes; long
enough to make forty copies in short-hand.
Q. But you returned it to Mr. Moulton,.and he has kept it
and has it now?  A. Yes; unlfs he has been robbed.
Q. The letter which yoq say Mr. Beecher wrote Mrs. Tilton,
with your permission, I see, as published, directs her to return
it to him tihrough your hands. A. Yes.
335 
330     TRUST ED TO MO ULTON IN COVNFIDENCE.
Q. Was it returned to him through your hands? A. It was
returned to AMr. Moulton by me.
Q. Did you make a copy of it? A. I did.
Q. Then you took advantage of Mr. Beecher's direction to
have that letter returned to him through your hands, to make
a copy, and you made and preserved a copy of the letter?  A.
1 did, exactly; and I have found a very good use for it in this
late emergency.
Q. What you call the "apology "-is that in Mr. Beecher's
handwriting? A. It is not.
Q. In whose handwriting is it?  A. In Francis D. Moulton's, except the last sentence, which is Mr. Beecher's.
Q. i I trust this to MAoulton in confidence," is in Mlr. Beeclher's haiidwriting, is not not?  A. Yes.
Q. The wo(-rds "in confidence" are underscored, are they
not?  A. I do not know.
Q. That document is written on how many half sheets of
paper?  A. I do not think on any; it is onl sheets as big as
that (legal cap).
Q. Oi how many-two or three?  A. Yes, large sheets.
Q. Do you know whether the last sentence, " I trust this to
Moulton in confidence," is separated by a wide space from the
rest?  A. I do not know; Frank can show it to you.
Q. Is it not separated by a wide space? No, not by a wide
space.
Q. I ask you whether the last sentence of the letter is not
here s)mewhere (indicating with the hand), and the line " I
trust thlis to MAoultonll in confidence, II. WV. Beecher," down
there (indicating)?  A. No, it is not.
Q. Is it not at the bottom of the page? A. It may be at
the bottom of the page.
Q. Is it not away from the writing? A. No, it is not; it is a
part of the letter.
Q. You were not present when it was written?  A. No;
otherwise it would not have been written.
Q. Because it would have been spoken? A. Yes; the substance wats spoken to nme a day or two afterwards in Mr. Moulton's bedchamb)er.
Q. You say if you had been present it would not have been
written? A. Yes.
Q. That letter ts not addressed to you, is it?  A. It was addressed to MAr. Moults, but it was brought to me on the
authority of Mr, Beecher himself; it was brought to me
6 
E'Ii' YIliAD A CONTO 0 VERS Y.
greatly to my surprise; Air. 3ioulton put it before me as evi deice that I slhould maintainI peace; I did not ask for it; it
came unsolicited.
Q. You qui)te a letterdated on thle 7th of January to you
from iMr. Iechler. Was your suit with Bowen then pendingv?
A. MAy suit with 13owen wvas pending flom the 1st or January
to tlhe middle of the next year; I thlink it was in April, 1l(7;;
I never sued him; MIr. Moultoii wanted to assume tlhe management of my affaiirs witlh MIr. Bowen; AIr. MouiltonII, when sick,
summonoed us to lhim, and said, "I wanvt to keep you otl record
anid hind you t) goo(d wvill."
Q. You hlad a co)ntroversy?  A.  I ]ad a controversy; I
agreed not to do anything but at MIr. Moulton's discretion;
Mr. Bowen owed me $7,000, and Frank said, "lie lhas got to
pay that; but I would rather pay it myself thanl that it should
l)ring AMr. Beecher in collision, arnd I will agree that you slhall
hlave it, if I hlave to pay it myself; tlherelore, let this thing
remain with me as long as I like-,a year or ten years;" Frank
waVs determiined that peace shotul d be kept.
Q.  AWere tlhere aiiy I)rocee(lings to perpetuate testimony
talken?  A. Frank thlou,ght 3Ir. liowen ougllit to come  to a
settlemient, and said, " I think I will put this in court;   aiad
3Ir. Ward inistituted some proceedings; it was the mere sutggestioni of a suit, done witlhoutt my knowledg(e; I think it wvas
to l)erpetuate MIr. Johnson's testinmony; I hav-e forgrotten.
Q. That  was in 1872?  A.  Yes, it must  have  been in
Miratch.
(2. You say you put the management of your matter against
Bovwen in the lhands of  Ioutltoni?  A. I did.
(I. Did not hle represent to you that it was absolutely indispeinsable or material that you iand Mr. Beecher should keep on
friendly terms in reference to this controversy wvithl l3owei?
A. Xo.   The sum and essence of his management was the
management of my relations to Iatr. Beeclher; lie reg,arded Mr.
Bowen as an incident; I could not afford to lose my oflice, and
Mr. Maoulton said, "' Yout have got to keep peace with  Mr.
3Beecclher for the sake of yourself and family;" MIr. 3Moulton
alwa-s made Air. l'owen subsidiary to MAr. Beeclher-and lme
also, till I revolted, after Dr. B1acoi's letter.
Q. I)o you mean to say that it was iiever regarded as important that friendly relations shiotl be maintainecd betweeii yotu
and  Jlr. Beecher, liavingi reference to your  difficulty with
Bowen?  A. Not a particle: the more I quarrelcd with 3ir.
15
0
337 
0O U[L TON'S IRON-LIKE,WA F.
Beecher, the better Mr. Bowen liked it; if, as a result of the
controversy, Mr. Beecher should be dead, Mr. Bowen would
not be one of the mourners,but one tlihat would uplitft the
horni of gladness; he never wvaniited peace with Mr. B13eeclier;
he is an enemy of Mr. Beecher, would rejoice ill his downfall;
perhaps I ought not to say thlat;Tit is sl)eakiing of the motives
of people, but it is true.
Q. The triparite treaty was not siigned until after February
7th, 1871? A. No.
Q. Was not your letter to Mr. Moulton of that date written
for the p)urpose of calling out a reply from him?  A. No; I
wrote it because Frank insisted upon it; Frank had thle idea
that if I gave my word he would lhave me bound; lie wanted
me to write the utmost of what I could of good will in this
letter.
Q. And did lie get a corresponding answer from Mr. Beecher?
A. Perhaps so; I do not think thatl he informed me that lhe
was going to get an answer from MAli. Beecher.
Q. lIe informed you that hle lhad got an answer firom himni
afterwards, did he not?  A. Yes, lie showed it to me and I
copied it.
Q. Do you say that your letter was not written in order to
draw out an answer from Mr. Beecher?  A. No, I wrote it to
please Frank, because lie wanted me to; perhaps there may
be a sense in which I was to write what I could of good will,
and Mr. Beecher what he could of good will; perhlaps there
may be correctness in your phrase; there was no collusion on
my part with Mr. Beeclher; It was Mr. lMoultoni's iron-like
way of compelling tlhings to go on in peace and liarniony;
he is a man of desperate streiigthl of will.
Q. Now, will you produce Lll the letters whichll you quote on
page 113'and 114 of your communication, beginning" My
dear Frank, I ami determined to make no  more resistance.
Tlheodore's temperament is such tl-hat the futulre, even if temporarily earned, would be absolutely worthless, and rendering
me liable at any time of day?" etc.  A. I cannot; Mlr. Mloulton
can.
Q. Have you a cop)y of it?  -A. Yes, I think I nm not wrong.
Q. Can you produce a co)y?  A. I do not know;  I amt
sorry I cannot tell you; I hlave a mass of plhonogral)lhic notes;
whenever these letters came, whenever there was anything
in them that Frank wanted me to see, he would read to me;
whenever Ar. Becl'er said anything that lie thouglht, being
008" 
4b 
DIFFIC UL IIFES TIL1 T E,VIRON ME.
reac  to me, would gratify my  feelings and cond(luce to a
compromise or peace between us, speaking of the kinduess with
whichl I treated him, or of his difficulties, Frank re(ad them to
me, and Ias I wrote short-land, I always used to make a copy of
them. 
Q. And is that the only copy that you have of these papers?
A. It is the only copy I have of Frank's papers.
Q. Copies in short-hand being read and never being com  pared with the originals? A. AVhen Frank read to me three
or four or five sentences I would write them down.
By Mr. llall-Did you compare them with the originals?
A. What do you mean by comparing them with the originals?
Q. Do you know that they are an exact transcript of the
originals? A. Yes.
Q. You wrote them from your phonographic notes?  A.
You will find these extracts all perfectly correct-every one
absolutely.
By  IMr. Winslow-Do you remember the purport of what
youll left out? A. My impression is that this one of Mr.
Beechler's letters to Frank was very long; it would certainly
occupy four pages of foolscap; there was a long argument in
it to show the difficulties that he was in; if I liad quoted the
whole it would have made this statement much stronger, but
it would have made it a cumbered document.
Q. Is there something that you have not quoted? A. A
great deal; but there is nothing in that quotation that violates
the whole spirit of the letter.
Q. Hlad you no reason for omitting what yon did, except to
avoid length?  A. No; only it alluded to interviews; for
instance, in this way:-" I am greatly distressed withl what
the d(leacon said," or "The Brooklyn  Ejayle must not go on
in tli is way;" many thingis might be addi~d that are unimportant ix this exhibit but were important at the time.
Q. On page 103, "No  man  can see the difficulties that
environ me," etc., did you quote the whole of that letter?  A.
Only a fragment of it; there is not a whole letter in all these
quotations.
Q. In making these quotations I see no stars?  A. I do not
know whether it is the omission of the printer; btt I put in
sta'rs to show where the connection was broken off; where I
took a paragraph whiclh was lol, and it was continuous from
beginning to end there is nI) need of sttars.
(Q. Your letter "To a Complaining Friend," that was pub
339
0 
" ("COMPLAINING FP.Il',YD," A'FICTIO.
lished, to whom was that written?  A. That was written to
nobody; everybody  was sayilng "You oll(lgt to answer the
Woodhull scandal," and I put my wits togethler to firalnie a possible answer.
Q. Then you say tlhat the letter "To a Compla.iniIng Friend"
was a fiction?  A. Yes, it was wvritteii onl purpose Ls a public
card.
Q. lhow long after the Woodhull scandal was that? A. It
was published a long time after tlhat date; not longer than
two or three weeks I think, perhaps not ten days; my impression is that it was not published until a long time alteir; I
thought I had written an ingenious card, but it did not amount
to anything; Wendell Phillips said," It is a filne thing but for
one thing; you ought to have said that your wife was  not
guilty; " but I could not say that, and the card wvent for notliimg; it was one of a number of illgenious subterfuges; I wrote
it thinking that it would( please ElizLbeth; I readl it to her
before it was printed andl she liked it; afterwards she spoke to
me violettly about it, and said it was another way of p)erpetnating the scandal.
Q. And chiarged you with publishiing it for that purpose?
A. No, not that.
Q. But did not she say that the effect of that publication
wouild be to perpetuate the scandatl and revive it?  A.  Yes,
after it was published.
Q. The Woodhull scandal was dying out of the minds of tlle
people, was it not, then, when that was published?  A. I think
not; I did not know the time when it was; it is a death of
iwhichi I have had no notice yet; I thioughit I did a crafty thingi,
in that card, but it failed.
Q. I asked whether the Woodhull scandal  was not dying
out of the minds of the people, and whether it vwould not haLve
died out but for that?  A. Well, I don't know; you are a
better jiudge of that than I am; I think I heard less of it.
Q. D)o you not know that the  )ublication of that letter
revived thle talk and scandal?  A. Yes, yes; everytiing revives
the talk; the appointment of an investigating committee
revived it in the same way, in generail terms.
Q. AVlatt other publications have ryou made since the publicationii of the Woodhull scandal and thle letter' To a Conmplaiiing iFriend," and the. Bacon lettel, and the letters to the
Coitei?  A. The jetter "l'To a compl)laining Friend" was
put in the Eagyle with a ferocious comment; if it had not been
310
0 
SCAlNDAL WOULD HAVE DIED' OUT.
printed with a bad comment, I think it would have had a good
eftect; but that letter di(d harm.
Q. You mean to say tiat it revived or perpetuated  tlhe
scandal instead of alla,ying it?  A. It did harm in the sense
th;at it purll)orted to be a denial, looked as if it was meant for a
deiil which did not deny; a(Ld it leTt about this impressionthl-at NlMr. Tilton, a direct man, who knows what he means and
could say it, if he could have denied  this squarely would
hi ave done it; the impression was that it was written to
deny, but that it did not deny.
Q. Did it not carry in it a strong implication of guilt? A.
Well, perhaps in a sense you might inferentially say so; I think
you mighlt say that; I think if I had never said a word on the
sublject at all, from the beginning down, it would have been a
great deal better.
Q. The scandal would have died out long ago, would it not?
It has only been kept alive by your writings?  A. I have acted
like a fool, I admit.
By AIr. Tracy.-V-We all concede that, and do not need to call
witnesses to iriiove it.  Q. Now, when the council was in session, that took  the
form, did it not, of an ecclesiastical controversy, in which the
scanlll(ll  roper dropped out of sight?  A. There is no scandal
prol)er.
Q. Well, this scandal itself dropped out of sight, and the
conltroversy was over an ecclesiastical question, was it not?
A. In a technical sense; but everybody said the council revived
the business.
Q. Did not you know that your letters revived the scandal?
A. Yes; or it did not need reviving-it had life in it.
Q. Did not your letters to the council largely call out the
letters by Dr. Bacon?' A.  I think D'. Bacon took a sublime
indificrecece to my letters in the first place; he sent them back
firom the council; I do not now recollect that there was any
extract fiom rnmv letters to the council that were introduced at
all by Dr. lBacoii; perhaps there was; if he made any allutsion
~t all to tlhem it was a most unimportant one.
Q. You knew that the effect of your letters to the council
vwould be to revive the scandal, did you not?  A.  No, I did
not; I wrote to them  to vindicate myself; I did not care
wiletler they reviv-ed the scaldal or not.
Q. l)id not you klnow whiat the effect would be?  A. I
thought of vindicating myself; I hlad been attacked aild I wrote
0
-OD 4 1 
1 TOLD Y-OU A FALSEHOOD.
a defence; the scandal had to take care of itself; I was not so
tender toward the scandal that 1 should retfraii fiom defe(ldimng myself if it would revive it even.
Q. That is evident.  Mrs. Tiltol's letter to you quoted( Febrtary 9th, 1868, and commencilig, "All! did anigel ever love so
grandly as my beloved."  In that letter, oIl p.age 164, this selltence occurs, "And the dear friends who love us."  You originally wrote it, and yout have eras,(d "us" anld put ill "me."
Do yout know which is correct?  What is the origillnal?  A. I
think it is "me;" it is "me"  (exaniming the lirst draft of
tL e communication.)
Q. How came Mrs. Tilton to write that letter to MAoulton,
denying that she had ever thoughlt of separating from you?
A. Friank, as soon acs lie undertook to make thle compromise
between us, undertook to straighlten out whatever was wrong;
there was a story that Mrs. MIorse set afloat about my being
divorced, and Frank wrote a note to her or went to see her, and
she wrote this note.
Q. Did not she write it at your suggestion?  A. I do not
thinik she did; I think she wrote it at Fraik's suggestion; I
had fiorgotten that letter until I found it amolig the papers.
Mr. Hill-Did not you make any suggestion to her about
writing that letter?  A. I do not recollect distinctly; it may
be that I di(l; I do not kliow; I co-operatted witil Frank.
General Tracy —IHas shle not durillg this controversy signed(
]etters that you have written for her?  A. No;  slle wrote a
letter to Dr. Storrs, a part of vlwhichl I scuggrested the phlraseology, of a delicate statement of her relations to Mr. Beeclier,
which, while it was not false, did not convey more tlhan half
of the truthtl; the remainder she wrote herself; sllhe was going
to state too muchl in it.
Q. Is there tlany other letter that she has ever written at your
dictation, and signed after you hlad writtenl it, in tllis controversy.?  A. Well, I do not know; I do not recollect any at
present.
Q. Do you remember a letteri that shle wrote Mr. MAoultoii,
commencing, "Dear Francis, I told you at fisehllood last nliglt?"
A. I never saw it.
Q. Do you remember that Mr. [Aotllton reported to you, on
any occasion, that shle had made a statement that wlhat you
claimed waes 1er confession slhe had lmade at your solicitation
and instance, and at a tine when you wvere also confessing to
hler, or aiiytliling of flat description, and that you were angry
342 
TVWAS ELI7ZABETi ILYSAXE?
about it, and took Mlotlton to your house to have him see
whether she would make stucl a sta.tement or not, and that Air.
Moulton comilng ill tnd rc)e(lting tle statement il your presentce, youI aske(d ller whether she had ever said so, ant(l she said
slle had not, andI you turne(l to Moulton a(nd said, " Tlhen you
aire the one wlo is the li-ar?"  A.  I do- not remember an sticli
plhrse as tllhat; Firank Aoullton s.Lid(l to me, as nearly as I can
recollect (his memory is better than mine), that Elizabeth, iii a
mood of severity onI me (whlich she did not very often assume)
said that I had made to lher confession about myself corres)onldiIg, with the confessioni wlich she had made to nmec agrainst
herself, which was not true; and Frank asked her squarely if
it was so.
Q. Did he ask her or (lid you?  A. I do not remember.
Q. What did shle say?  A. She said "No," and tlleii Fraink
afterwards told me she sai(d the opposite.
Q. Now did yoiu iot know that the very next morning she
wrote to Mr. Alouilton a letter beginniing, " Dear Francis, I told
you two falsehoods," a,id proceeded to say in substance, " The
fact is that wlhen I am in the )presence of Mr. Tilton he has
sucill a control over me that I ani not responsible for what I
s.ty," or " I am oblig(ed to say whatever hle wvills that I slhoutld
say; but the truth is that I had reported the story just as you
had heard it."  A. I do not; I kiow that she l.had sonie conversation with ]iim, which she reported to me as beiing greatly
like a see-saw-sayiiig one thiing anti(d iiinsiying it.
Q. II:,ve you ever had doubts of her sAiity? A. No.
Q. Never?  A. No, sir.
Q. tlave you ever threatenied to p)ut her in an asyluni?  A.
No, sir.
Q. Iave you ever circulated the story among, her acquaintances or frienids that she was l)ecoming insaIne?  A. No, but
that her mother was; there was o0ie time abouit then when
she was a little deliriouiis.
Q. When?  A. I do not remember; her mind wandered a
little in sickness; she hias never had a t.tiiit of insanity; you
kniow we have a customary plirase, " YouI say a:1  extrava-igant
being,, nmy friend, youii are iInsanIe;" t1hat is the oiily p)ossible
wayin which Elizabeth has been insaie; she is iiot iisanei at
all.
Q. Air. Tilton you have quoied the letters of your wife here
to prove wlht the charcter of your lhome was iii the beginnin(r of 1868 and tlrouglt 18st;s8?  A. I (luoted thlem to silow
what it was previous to hler surrender to hiun.
6
343 
344  BEECIHER i'O PRESIDE AT SI'ElNWVAI Y HALL.
Q. You have stated, MIr. Tilton, that there were acts of
criminality, first at Mr. Beeclher's house, and secondly, at your
own lhoulse; do you pretend to have a person.tl knowledge of
those acts? A.  Only tlhe knowledge of Mirs. Tilton's confession
-thlat is all; I was absent at the time.
Q. Mr. MoultoIn was in college with you?  A.  Yes, Si'.
Q. Hle has always been your friend from your college (lays?
A. Yes, sir, and I hlope he will be to tlhe end of my life.
Q. Your novel is dedicated to him?  A. Yes, but he has
not done me the honor of reading it; I will never dedicate
another.
Q. You say that you had not reported this scandal to the
Woodhull women or woman; but you do not deny that you
lhad frequently spoken harshly of Mr. Beecher to her?  A.
Oh, not harshly; I have spokenl often critically of him, but always wvith a view to have her do no hlLrin to him; I expressed
my opinion about  him.
Q. How came she and 3Jr. Beecher to have an interview?
A. I do not remember tlhe circtumstances.  I think Frank
MAoulton devised it; Mr. Beecher had a number of intervieiws
withl her at Frank's house and one at mine.
Q. Was not the object to get Mr. Beecher committed to her
views of free love?  A. No; to her views of thle fourteentih
and fifteentih amendmients of womani's suffrage; Mr. Bitl(r
and I championed it, and we wanted Mr. Beecher to do the
same.
Q. Was it not to get him to preside at Steinway Hall?  A.
That wvas not at my house, but at Frank's; I think at mine it
was in regard to the fourteenth and fifteenth amendments.
Q. WAell, an effort wvas made to get him to preside there and
introduce her at Steinway Hall, and an exposition of this scalidal was threatened if he did not preside there? A.  Frank received a letter from Colonel Blood  that he thlought was  a
threat; it angered Frank a good deal.
By Mr. Winslow-Did you see the letter from Colonel Blood,
in which it was threatened that this scaldal would b)e exposed
if Mr. Beechler d(lid not preside at the Steinway IItll meetiluo;
A. I do not think that is so; if it was I did not know it; I do
not think there was any truth in it.
Q. M r. Beecherl had been importuned to preside, had he not?
A. Yes; there came,a ilte from Colonel Blood about tlle
Woodhulls not b)eing received in soime hotel; they sa,id it was
because they were unpopular, and they waited Mr. Beeclier's 
PUTTING TVOODHULL UNDER OBLIGATION.  345
help; ti ere was something in the letter which Frank regarded
as unhandsome, and I knew he wals angry and expressed himself strongly about it, and said it looked like blackmail; it
was one of the first indications of their attempting to use us.
Q. Do you not know that Mr. Beecher was thlreatened tihat
iii case he did not preside at that meeting this scandal should
be p)l)lished?  A. It is the first time that I have ever heard
it suggested.
Q. WVas le not threatened by MIrs. Woodhull?  A. Not that
I have any knowledge of:
Q. Was not the very object of soliciting Mr. Beecher to preside at the Steinway Hall meeting oni the part of you and Mr.
Moulton in order to place Mrs. Woodhull under obligation, so
that she should not make the publication?  A. Precisely so;
we did not know that there was to be a publication; we wanted to keep her on our side, and wanted to take every possible
occasion to do it; her husband had spent a considerable length
of time to devise this Steinway Hall speech; what is was
about I do not know; she gave me and Frank the proofs, and
he put them in his drawer; I never looked at them; it was
our folly that we did not, for I might have known what was in
that speech; she wanted Mr. Beecher to preside; I told Mr.
Beecher that however unpopular she was he might go and preside, and I sketched a little sort of speech (and I think Frank
sketched one) that, if he could see his way to do it, he might
make:-" Fellow citizens-Here is a woman who is going to
speak.  She will probably speak on what you do not believe;
but that is no reason why she should not be heard.  It is bebecause I disagree with her that I would introduce her. I like
free speech.  I have the honor of presenting her."  I said to
himn that he was able to carry a little speech of that sort and I
felt that if he went and presided it would put her under the
same obligation to him as I fancied that I had put her under
to me in writing her biography; I considered that I had secured her good will by writing that and other things, and I
thought that if Mr. Beecher would do some signal service of
that kind, which hle could do and which would be noted as
such, it would fix her under gratitude, and we would all be
fixed; Frank had done her some service; Frank had been very
friendly to her; he had done her many services and he had
great respect for her. 
Q. You pressed thab argument on Mr. Beecher?  A. Yes,
and Frank also.
15*
0 
THEODORE PRESIDES,
Q. As a matter of safety?  A. Yes; I said "Think it over,
and if you fined that you can, go and do it."
Q. Do you knowv whether the letter from Colonel Blood had
been received at that time?  A. I do not know.
Q. MIr. Beechler rejected your argument and refused to pre side?  A. He did not refuse, but sztid that if he saw his VLway
cleatr he wouldtl come and let us kinow.
Q. But hlie did not let you klnow?  A. lie did not let us
knovw.
Q. And you presided instead?  A. I did not want to; but
I had no idea of what the speech was going to be.
Q. Although the proofs were in your hands and you might
have known?  A. Yes; but I never did know; the proofs had
been brought to Frank's study; I may have had the idea that
they were for Mr. Beecher to see the speech; but it was not
the printed speech that did the damage, it was the inteljected
remarks in response to the audience; she said violent thiings.
Q. Had you written her life at that time? A. Yes, I had
I am pretty certain of it.
Q. VlWhat other things had you done to put her under obligations? A. I will tell you what I did; I wrote that idea of
the Fourteenth and Fifteenth amendments, and spent three of
the solidest weeks of my life in working it into an argument
and printing it into a tract; it was her idea, but she did not
know how to expose it, and I worked it up in one of the most
elaborate pieces of writing that I ever did; that was one of the
great services; the second was the writing of a sketch; then,
also, when Senator Carpenter attacked that proposition I made
an elaborate reply.
Q. You went to the meeting yourself, and deliberately intended to -go? A. No, I did not; Frank came to the Golden
Age office; it rained and it was late, half-past seven o'clock,
and I went to see who was to preside; there was no expectation
that I would preside at all; we got there at ten minutes to
eight o'clock, and the crowd was so great that we could not
get in at the front way, and we went into a large anteroom,
and there was MIrs. Woodhull, flushed and excited because
there was not a brave man in the circle of the two cities to
preside at her meeting; Mr. Beecher did not come, and one or
two others that had been invited were not there; she felt that
there was no courage in mnenpand she was going on alone, and
I said, "I will preside i your meeting;" it was not more than
ten minutes; I do not believe five minutes, forethought; I went
34:6
0 
IHE HAD NO SECRETS FROMX ELIZABEIHI
on the platform and made a few remarks and introduced hler;
that was the way it came about.
[Here followed an examination (foreign to the inquiry) as
to Mr. Tilton's relations to certain Women, which is too inde
cent to reproduce.
Q. Did you ever  express your attachment for         in the
presence of your wife?  A. Ask my wife; take her answer;
you may depend that I never said to, or any other lady,
ill the absence of my wilfe, what I would not have said in her
presence; I have no secrets from Mrs. Tilton; I never had any,
and should never have had any, but for this break up; I never
had any secrets from Mrs. Tilton until within this last year or
two, during which we have not harmonized as in former years.
Q. Have you ever admitted to her that you had committed
adultery? A. I never admitted to her anything of the kind.
Q. But you don't mean to say that you have not, do you?
A. NMr. Tracy, talk to me as one gentlemen to another.
General Tracy-You clharge your wife with hlaving commnitted adultery; I mnean to ask you whether you have or not? A.
I say, let my wife make the chlarige, if she wishes to.
Q. I ask you the question. A. You may ask it till dooms
day.
Q. You decline to answer? A. I do not; I say I will take
my wife's answer.
Q. How could she know that you had, if you had not confessed it to her?  I ask you whether you have not been guilty
of the crime? A. I decline to hold a conversation with you on
such a subject.
Q. Have you not admitted to others your commission of
adultery?  A. Mr. Tracy, lhave you committed adultery?
General Tracy-I have not charged my wife with that crime.
Mir. Tilton-If I ami to be charged with the crime of adultery in this business I wish to know it.  I wish my wife, in
whose interest you speak, to make the charge if she chlooses.
Now let her choose.  If you, gentlemen, suppose that you are to
fight this battle in reference to my character I will make it ten
times harder than you see.  Yesterday we were on the edge of
peace; but if you mean to draw the sword, the sword shall be
drawn.                         e
Mr. Hill-Don't you think it is pretty well out?
Mr. Tilton-There is one thing that I was born for and that
is war.
347
0 
C'7I C.,1   0 TIMES A  SALACIOUS 1'APlEt.
Q. Didl you make the acquaintance of Mrs. Woodhull in the
absence of?  A. I tdoii't remember whether she was Lbsent or l)r(-senit.
Q. D)oi't  out remember whether it was whlile she w,s,it
honie or not that you were associating with  MIrs. AVoodlIull?
A. I lki-iv Mrs. MFoodhltll (L who-le yea,,r.
Q. L[After several questions interjected, involving reference
to anothler woman.]  I)o you know whlethler or not informatioji was comrmunicate(l to your wvife that you were livinlg wvithl
Mrs.  Voodull?  A. I never lived wvitll her.
Q. Do you remember whether your wvile was told tha't you
wire  livingr withl her?  A. I never heard( of it till now; I saw
somnething the day before yesterday in a salacious newsl)aper.
Q. The Chicao,) Timies?  A. Yes.
Q. Iave you riea-d it? A. Yes.
Q. Don't you know that information of precisely the character then  )ubl)lished was communicated to your wife by the
mother of IMrs. WAVoodhull during your intimacy withl Mrs.
\Voodhull?  A. I never hleard of such a thing,; I remember
that Mrs. MIorse was withl Mrs. Claflin; the old, crazy wom.an
came at the foot of her stairs one night and mad(le a hideotus
racket of some sort of trashl; Mrs. Mlorse quoted that, and got
(.site frioghteiied about it.
General Tracy-I hlol)e all tlhe mothllers of your fi'iends are
not insane.  Don't you know that iMrs. CI-tilill at the same tinie
communiicated that to your wife?  A. I did not know that she
saw my wife; I understood that that WOillaii made a visit at
Mrs. MIorse's-; it may be, perhaps, that Airs. Tiltoi's was there
at the time.
Q. Don't you know that your wife's mind has been d(listurbed
in regar(d to your ow1i  infidelity to her by your associations
withl public women?  A. No, sir; if thllat pretenice is made,
Mr. Tracy, oni your part, it is unmaLnly; if it is made on hler
par,t, it is ftlse; 1 llave never associated with pulblic vwolen.
General Tracy-I don't meati prostitutes; I mean reformers.
A. Oli, yes; I said before that Liizabetli hal(  been annoyed,
over and over again, by my associa(tioIns with all persons out of
the realm of religious orthodox ideas.
Q. In that class of people whom among your lady acquaintances do you include?  A. I include Mirs. Stanton and Mliss
Antllony, thlough 1 have tt seen those people since Elizabethl
ordered themi out ot'the house; beyond those persons I d(lon't
kllowv; Lucy Stone was one; she lived in Boston; she did not
34S
0 
ELIZABETH DISLIKES REFORM1'ERS.
come very often; ]lizabeth was a reformer at one time, and
had the getting uj) of womeneii's rights meetings, and had the
children take the tickets; she arranged the campaign, but now
shle can't endure them.
In explanation of the above, Mr. Tilton, in the journals of
July 28th, published a car(l, asserting tlhat the cross-examilltation had been garbled, inasmuchl as hle had distinctly sworn
that the several acts of criminality between Mr. Beechler and
IMrs. Tilton were confessed by bothl of those parties to Mr. Tilton, as well as to Mr. Frank Mloulton, the "Mutual Friend."
0
349
0 
CHAPTER XIV.
A WEEK OF INTENSE EXCITEMENT.-TIIE WVOMAN SUFFRAGE RAVENS
GATIIERI  ABOUT.-MNIRS. STANTON DECLARES TIhAT MR. TILTON
ADIITTED TO HtFlI ThIAT MR. BEECIIER hIAD SEDUCED MRS. TIL  TON, AND THAT MIRS. TILTON CONFESSED TIlHE SIN TO SUSAN B.
ANTIIONY.-COL. ANTIIONY ASSERITS THAT IIIS SISTER TOLD III.l
THE SAIME STORY.-3MISS ANTIlONY WILL NEITIIER ADMIT NOR
DENY THE ALLEGATIONS.-STARTLING STATEMIENTS BY MR. CAI PENTER.-TIIE CASE IN TIlE COURT AT LAST.-DISAPPElARANCE
OF MR. MIOULTON.
OLLOWING  close upon the publication of MIr. Tilton's
cross-examination some startling revelations were made
that, while making the mystery  still deeper, were certainly
dlamaging( to M1r. Beecher's case.   The following, letters which
alppeared ill the Daily Gra)thic over   the signature of " Inquiirer" created much comment:
" Please make room for the followiing points iwhichl may serve-c
to throw a lilght upon the great scandal now  agitating this
commiunity.   In recitin g tllem, I know fully  whNereof I s)peakl;
"1.  Tilton was not acquainte(d with:Mrs. Wooldhull until
nearly a -ear after the diftlculty in his family.   his acquaintan.ce witlh her was duec to thc fact that it came to his kinotledg(e that she was  in pogsessioil of his family seclet.  Itis
f'lnoUIs life of that woman  was written in the  endeavor  to
1)l:.tcate lelr and prevent tlhe plublicatioll of the scandal.
"2.  Thle story of the scandal got to the l)public tlhr'ough the
indiscretion of Miss Stisai*B. Anthony.  She was a guest of
the Tiltons when tlhe lleged discovery was made bNy rII. TiltonI.  I1er story is that Mrs. Tilton came to her room  one
35or
0 
lF?iEE DIfVORCE IVLY'IIE IND,PYDENP'T.
nilght complaining of thle violence of' Theodore,'  and the
matter was tallked over fully at the breakfast-table the next
111orni 11.o   3.  The first person whlo communicated  the alleged facts
to rAls. AWoolidhull was llMrs. I'lizaheth Cady St,anton, whlo had
rec(ived them in confidencie fi'om  I iss Antlhony,.nid of coIiurse
tlhey wiere told in the sanie way to all the f,amily acquaintalnces
of those two dcistiinguislhed refor mers.
4.  It is und(lerstood tihat Mi's. Woodhull has in her possession a letter written by a brother of 3Iiss Susan B. Ainthony,
a resi(lent of liansas, in whichl the whole  story of the scene
witnessed by his sister at the house of the Tiltons is told.
"5.  Tilton really tried to save his wife fiom  this scandail.
ite did not confess the fact even to his most intimate firiends,
and( did all that a man could do to keel) it secret until lie was
fairly driven to the wall.
"6.  There is no  doubt that at the time of this dlifliculty
fi'ee-love' doctrines had a great dleal to do withi the catastrolphe; tihat they were held in a measuire by all the parties to
tlhis lunhappy- scandal.  The celebrated' friee divorce' editorials
in. the Indeleiic(lee)t were written bv Tilton subsequLent to the
discovery of tlhec alleged scandal in his own family.
"7.  There is no allegation on record of any infidelity on
Tilton's part before the discovery of the supposed guilt of his
-wife.  Whlatevcer charges are against him  date frolm a subsequenit period.
"8.  This was not a ease of deliberate seduction on the
part of 31M. Beeclhe, if the facts are as they are represented to
ime.  She was angered at her husband for his self sufficiency,
his want of consideration for her, and what seemed to her
jeailouis mind his probable infidelities.  She went to Mhr. Beecher
lfor counsel, and in the prolonged(l interviews lwhichl ensued the
intimacy occuired-if the facts are as Tilton supposes them to
be.
In closing, I venture the prediction that it will be found at
tlhe bottom of this whole aair, that Mr. B13eeclher held a sexual
tlieor- whichl lie believes to be in advanice of the present constitiitioii of society, and that if the facts are as alleged lie has
fallen because of following- out a highler law, as lie sul)posed,
than that whichl controls the conventions of our presenlt societv." 
"Will you permit me to makle a statement respecting this
deplorable Tilton-Beecher business which  may throw  some
351 
TIL TO~ FLzilTTERElD BE  TVOM'~lhYV.
lighlt upon it?  I should never lhave felt moved to utter a word
0on the sutl)ject, were it not that tlhe facts hlave  now become
pub)lic pl)roperty, and the inci(ldents I  am  about to relate may
help to teorm whlit is greatly nee(led(l, a colherent thlleolry of this
g,reat scandal.  The country islikely to be dii(lce( into earnest
partisans of Tilton on the one liaidl, an(l Beechler on tlhe otiher;
-but suirely there iimust be a larg(e niiiuber of people who lhave
no special p)artiality for eithler of those gentlellell, an(l who
wishl simply) to get at the truth of the alIair.  The information
came into nmy possessioni three years agto-lhow, it is needless
to relate.  AMy  only object in giving it is to explain the rela tions of the parties to each other in a more judicial manner
than would be the case if the ex-l)crtte statements of either
were taken as sole evidence.
When Mr. Tilton and his wife were first married(l, they
lived togetlher with a tolerable dlegree of happiness.  Bitt the
conditions chainged greatly withini eilght or tein years.  The
wife, who was an intelligent and clever womani, bore children
very rapidly; she has had seven, of whom four are now living.
Immersed in maternal and household cares, MIrs. Tilton ceased
to be attractive to her husband, over whom, in the meantime, a
great chalinge had come.   From the obscurity of a reporter on
the Tribetne hle had become the celebrated editor of the greatest religious newspaper in the country; he was moreover an
admirable orator, and seemed to have a great atid( most brilliant
career before him.   With  these  chlanged( cond(litions came
changed deportment towards his wife.  HIe manifested a remarkable degree of self-importance;  he treated her, my  informant says, with great want of consideration, and it is further
hinted, that he was by no means faithful to his marriage vows.
Led away by the flattery of women he faile(l to observe that
moral code without which the marriage bond loses its sanctity.
All this, of course, was extremely mortifying to  the highspirited wife and mother.  She resented sticll treatment.  And
here let me remark that 31'rs. Tilton is sai(l to possess in an
untsunal ldeg(ree, that cravingi for syml)atlhy and tenderness
which is the marked characteristic of her sex.  It is even said
that her exactions in this respect amount almost to selfishness.
"Thus, with extreme sensitiveness on both sides, thle illfeeling which Mrs. Tiltoifcould not suppress was  met on Mr.
Tilton's part with a-want of conciliation, which only tende(l to
make  matters  worse.  In this frame of mind  3Irs.  Tilton
.'D' 5 2
0 
-k-c(or(lltt  to niy  11Ioinilormation  tlle explosion  occurlre(l in
this  wise: Aliss  Stisaii 1).  Antliony  (tlhroulltg    wollol,  it  is
allege(l, the story subseqtuently 1)ccamie l)llblic, slhe relating it
to  all her female  associates)  was  stop)l)ig'  at'ir. Tiltoii's
lhousec.    Tiltoil  lia(l b)een  unusualtly  exasl)peratili,g  in hiS (demIeanor towai(l hIis wiif(,, and(l it is sai(l ha(l givcln her renieNe(
cauise for jealoiisy.  She was provolke(l beyoll( cn(dIir'anee, an(l,
fille(l withl a (esire to lhumiliate himi, in I)assion(ate utteirances
slie tol(l himi, iii the presence of the guest  allu(le(l to, tlhat slc
liacl been as faithlless to hler marriage -os as   lie ha(l beel  to
his.
"A  tremendlous scene followe(l.  Tilton vwas fiurious.  1Finally
tle whlole story of hler intimnacy witlh hler l)astor caine out.  Tie
ciircumstances, as I have (lepicted( tlem, explain how tlhe story
got abroa(l.   Tlhe  sereit, whlich slioul(  haveC been guairde(1  1)
T'lieo(lore Tilton, Ilenry- 5Val(l Beeclher, 3Its. Tilton, and(  their
lutiual  frie(nd, F'rankl  Iotiltoll, was first of all babbled(  al)ollt
iii thle cliqiue of vwomani suti'ragists, and finally fould its w+i  to
the public.
"Iii justice to a'r. Tilton, hlowever, it must l)e state(l tllhat ip
to tlle (late of his la.st letter lie invariablv (lefeii(le(l lis wifi.
lie liad  ldenie(l to cverbo-)o(ly but  I'rank   ioulton  asi(  Oliver
J)linson! tlhat ianytlillng' more occIri'(ed tliail  an iirl)roel)er overtie fCrom SIrt. Beeeli(r to:Irs. Tilton.
The way iln wllich  the l)lblie reg'ard( Tilton is vervI cluriolus.
E (veiyb1lody at(iditted thlat lie wNas a youn11g  iiian of great 1)roilise, a filc orlatori, ai  able jotilalist.  IBut  soili(eliow lie was
always thlle subject of iun;tvoratble comment on  tlle pa)rt of tlle
piress.  IIe (never did anybody aiiy li'        i; lie iiever sl)pokle 111-ii
0 
FR EE LOVE AT T'IIE BOTTO f.
kicndi,y of any of his contemporaries; he ell,gagedl in no cabals.
But somehow he impressed the p)ublic andcl, I am told, the
editors as a man who possessed a great deal of self-consciousness and as assuming a position hlie was not entitled to. At
any rate, he failed to make that favorable impression on hlls
contemporaries which his talents certainly seemed to entitle
liiiiin to.  He possibly  lackled a sense of ihumorI, an(d often a
want of tact in dealing with the outside public.  But the fact
remains that while he has a strong case as against Mri. Beecher,
the press of this city is almnost unaniimously against him.
So here you have the story —the growing alienation between husband(l and wife, both of them  strongly self-conscious,
both craving sympl)athy, both failing to have due consideration
for each other.  Then comes the pastor, warm-blooded, exuberant, impulsive, and moreover, it is said, with an unhappy
home of his own.  Such a man dlealing with such a womanall parties being meanwhile infected more or less with the
current sexual theories as to the right of individuals to bestow
their atltetions on whom they please-such a man and such a
woman, in such a firame of mind, are not at all unlikely to fall.
How larg(e a share the free-love doctrines had in this painful
aflair nobody will probably ever know; but that IIenry Ward
Beecher was deeply infected with these doctrin-es is no secret
at all.  Indeed, they were very plainly avowed by several
members of his church to the writer as a positive defence of
Mr. Beecher's slips when first this matter got into the papers;
and I feel convinced that these pernicious doctrines have had
much to do with this unhappy scand(lal.
I give the statement with the accompanying hypothesis, as
it may probably aford( a solution of this very painful affair.
That Mr. Beecher is the treacherous seducer which iMr. Tilton
tries to prove him, very few people will believe.  Mr. Beecher
fell, it' this story is true, th-roulgh his sympat1y with a woman
iI distress, whom he believed was alienated from her husband
by the cruelty of the latter.  All this is explicable, and the
case affords another warning as to the misery which  invariably
results from the satisfaction of purely egotistic impulses."
Upon the appllearance of these letters a reporter of the Brooklyn Argqts visited MIrs. Stanton, who in answer to qtuestions
told the following story:  "Some timce-I tl?ink it was in the Fall of the year, tlhough
354 
AN ULYPLEASA NI'SCI'L. ~E.
I won't be positive-while Mrs. Bullard was  still connected
withi the Revolution, Susan B1. Antihony, ir. and  Itrs. Tilton,
lirs. Bullardi(, and(l myself, were ill Brooklynil  together.  It was
aft'ternoon, and after calling at the ofilice ot' thle.evolittion, IMr.
Tilton and myself accompanied MIrs Bullard to her residence,
an(l reinaiued to dinner.
Throughi some mistinderstand(ling, Miss Anthony  went with
IMrs. Tilton, and dined with her instead of us.  There was
some feeling on the part of Mrs. Tilton in regard to this,
altlhough it was quite unintentional on my part.   Well, at the
table —no one was present but MArs. Bullard, Mr. Tilton, and(
myself-Theodore told the whole story of his wife's faithlessness.  As I before observed, he (dlid not go into the details;
but the sum and substance of the whole matter he related in
the hlearing of Mrs. Bullard and myself.  We  were reformers.
HIe gave us the story as a phase of social life."
"' Thlis was the first you had(l heard of it?"
"' This Was the first.  The next evening, hlearing that Miss
Anthony was a little p)iqued( at me for leaving her on the day
b)efore, I returned to my home in Tenaflt3-.  To  my surprise, I
found Susan awaiting my  arrival.  That evening, when  we
were alone, I said to her:'Theodore related a very strange
story to iMrs. Bullard( and me, last evrening.'  Then I recounted
to her all that lie hla(d told us.  MIiss Ainthony listened attentively to the en(l.  Then she said:
"'I I have heard( the same story firom Mrs. Tilton.  We compared notes, and found that by both man  anid wife the same
stor,y lad indeed been tol(l.'
"' AVWhat were tlc particulars of IMrs. Tilton's confession?'
',I will tell you how it was made.   When  3IMr.  Tilton
returned home that evenin(, some  angry wor(ls —growing out
of thle separation in the afternoon-I)assed between him and
lhis w-ife.  Both became intensely excited.  In thle heat of the
l)assion, and in the presence of MIrs. Anthony, each confessed
to the otiher of having broken the marriage-vow.  In the midst
of these startlinog disclosures, Miss AntlDony witlhdrew to her
room.   Shortly after she heard Mrs. Tilton come  dashiing up
the stairs, and 3Mr. Tilton following close after.  She flung
ol)en her bedroom d(oor, aid E~lizabeth rushled in.  Thle  door
was then closed( and bolted.  Theodor e pounded on the outside,
an(d demanded admitttnec, but 3iss Anthony refused  to turn
tlhe key.  So intense was lds passion at that moment that she
feared hlie migiht kill his wife if he gained access to the room.
355 
SUSA_,V B. ANTIIO- Xl.
Several times he returned to thle door, and angrily demanded
that it be opene(l.  " N( womani shall stald( between mc atid
iny wife," lie said.  13It Susan, who is as couragrons as shle is
ol)le, aniswered( him withl thle word(s,' if you ecntelr this room it
will be over my  (lead l)od('!"  And so thle inftlriated mail
ceased his demands ai(l withdrlew.   Mrs. Tilton remnained with
Suisan throughoutt tlhe  ighlt.  In the excitement of tlhe lhoulr,
amid sobs and tears, shle told all to Miss Antlhonyl-.'The
Nwhole stor- of her own faithlessness, of Mr. Beechef's course,
of her decep)tion, and( of lher anlguislh, fell uplon the ears of Susan
B. Anthony, andl were sl)poken l)y tlhe lips of Mrs. Tilton.  The
next morniligll(, lMr. Tilton told Susan never to enter his house
ngain.  Slic tol(l him  slhe should enter whenever  she chose
but I believe she did not go there ag,ain."
Bv Mr. Tilton's cross-exalmination," observed thlle reporter,
'it al)pears that IlMrs. Tilton was  far from  friendly to Miss
Anthonyl-.  Ihow coil1( she have made this confession to her?'
On the cointrary, IMrs. Tilton tlhoutht a great deal of Miss
Antlhony-, of Mais. Illlard(l, an(l all those ladies.  I was  very
intimate w-itlh her before Mrs. Woodh(llll's thunderbolt.  At the
time of our first knowle(l(dge of the affair, IMr. Wilkesonl also
heard of it.  He besooughlt the ladies not to make it public.'I'o
him it was a matter of money.   He was a stockhol(ler in PlImouth Church, in the Christia(n  Union, and in "' The Life of
Christ."  Now, the destruction of Mri. 1)ceecl1er woulhl l)e tile
destruction of all these.  As Mr.  Wilkesoii expressed it, "It
vwouldl kockl thle' Life of Cllhrist' lhighler than a kite."  Ilenle hlis
concern in kIee)ping the matter seci(tt.
This startlingr statement was  followed by tllhe following con-Ifirination of \Mrs. Stanton  fiom1  Susan r. AiAtlthonv's brotlelr.
It is fioii a special  dispatlch  to  tllhe  Chlicago  T)'ibutie  from
Leatvenworthl, lKansas:
Col. Anithoiny, Stusan B.'s )brothier, told  -otlr corres)pondent
to-day that he first heard the sca(lndail stoly i'oin tile lil)s of lhis
sistel', in Washlingtoll, one year I(ago.   Stlisan B. Aiitlioiy tol(l
himi that she was a giest at Tilton's lionse wheni a violelit domiestic scene occurred(l.  She retie.tt(cd to her roomn  to avoi(l it,
and( was presently followed b). Mris. Tilton.  Tile two wolmeli
bolted the door, placing the hedsteadl.,,aiust it, to keel) Tilton
oil the outside.  Tiltot  accullsed(l lis wvife  of  tdulter- witlt
Beecher, aicl she replied with the acculisatio  that lie had 1)ro
356
0 
TI-ILL OI~LY SPEAK IN A CO UPRT.
cured( an aI)ortion for a young lacdy of Brooklyn, vlwhom he had
se(ted, callin(' the laldy by nalmne.  Thaflt nigh[t Aliss Ainthliony
ani(l ilrs. Tilton slel)t tog'etlheri, and duringt a coinversntion the
lalter, in seeming  ineital distress, iiu)parted(  the secret of a
guilty iiitrig,,ue witlh Bleeclier.   1iss Autliony aske(l  lher how
she came to yield to lceehller's a(dvanecs'; if lie used force; to
-whiclh IMrs. Tilton rep)lied no force was uised(, she yielilg witlott Iknowing wlhy she d(li(l so.   She avertied that Beelier treatedi
her with the kindtness lie woiuld  a ehlil(l.  Slhe resolved manya
times to yield( no nmore, I)tit as often her good( resolutions failed.
Tlhis is tile whlole substance of Stisanu'). Antlhony's  story, as
related to her brother.  lie is of the opilnion that his sister will
not testify in the case unless coml)elle(l to d(lo so in coutit."
Several  intervinews  followed  with  3[iss  Antliony, )bult she
wouldcl neither contradict iior aflirm the statements of Col. AnthonyI and MIrs. Stanton, allegin(g that she obtained the knowledglre confildentially, an(l wotil(i only speakl in a cotrt of la.vw.
1Irs. Stanton was intervievwed the second timie and more ftilly
exl)lained matters in this fashion:
RIel)orter-You laive no  ldotibt in your mind but that  Irs.
Tilton made a confession to Susain B. Ainthony?
Mrs. Stanton-Not the slilghtest; not   iiany more than tllhotrgi
I had hearil( it myself.   SuLsan always spetlks the truth.
Iel)orter —Aiid  thlat confession was of a criminal intimacy
weith Ilenry Ward Beeclher?
Ilrs. Stanton-Yes; criminal as tlie word is generally und(lerstood.  illrs. Tilton did not lookli ul)oii it in that wav.
Rleporiter-lBut it was a confession of -vhlat Mir. Tilton has
sinced charged.
31rs. Stanton —Precisely.
Reporter-You know, beyond all doubt, that Theodore Tilton told to yout and to IMrs. Bullard the story of his wife's infid(elit y?
3Irs. Stanton-Certail.y.   The main facts of the case lie
toldl us at the time I lhave sp)eeified.  3Iany incidents related in
the Woo(lhull statement I have never heard of; but the story
itself I heard firoin his lil)s.
Reporter-After MIr. Tilton had told yout this story did lie
ev-er deny it?
Airs. Stanton-Yes.   When the Woodlhull thunderbolt had
fallen, 3Ir. Wilkeson callea upon Mlr. Tilton and the latter flatly
357
0 
MRS. STA.NTON TA.IKS.
denied having made ally such statement regard(ling his wife.
As soon as I was informed of this I said to Miss Anthony, "I
have proof of my story, and I want you to go strailght to Mrs.
BuLllard's with me."   Ve went there; and in an interview, lasting over an lhour, I recalled to Mrs. Bullard Mr. Tilton's coInversation to us on the Beechler matter, and she fully confirmed
my statement to Miss Anthlony, indignant at the message Mr.
ANrilkeson had coimmulnicate(l fi'om MIr. Tilton, stated( to Mrs.
Ballard her interviewv with Elizabeth on that memorable night.
Reporter-To whom does this account, in the Chicago paper
interview, refer?
lMrs. Stanton-To Mrs. Fernando Jones.
Reporter-AVWhat do you think of the statement credited to
her?
AMrs. Stanton-Perliaps I otoughlt to extend the same charity
towards IMrs. Jones that she has towards nie-I believe that
the interviewer rep)orte(l her words incorrectly.  At the samec
time I readily un(lerstand how, not knowing that I had decided
to make anythingc public, iMrs. Jones might have tol(l her story
out of simple friendshlip for me.  That is, inll order to hide the
truth.
Reporter-Have yout any idea what testimony Frank Mlloulton could render if he wished.
ilrs. Stantol-Nothing more than that hlie has been in the
conid(lence of MIr. B13eeclhe  for many years.  After a visit whilich
the latter once ma(le to Mr. AIoulton, Fralnk said: " We have
had Ply-mouthl cliurch on its knees here."  Of course, his testimoiny o(ught to be had.
Relporter-Are you willing to appear before the committee,
MIrs. Stanton?
Mlrs. Stanton-No, not before that committee.  When gentlemnen who are in the confidenice of its proceedings tell me that
the integrity of every witness who appears against MAr. Beecher is to be iml)eached, I have no wish to give my testimony.  I
belong to a family of lawyers, and I have great respect for the
law.  lWhen the case comes before a civil court I shall williingly
appear if summoned.  There is no stronger proof that the
committee have a diricult case in sustaining Mr. Beecher than
its understood determination to impeach the integrity of every
witness ag-tinst him, and no better proof of the strength of
Mr. Tiltoii's positionI thn  its subteiftiges in trying to undermine him by attaclvng the claratcters of all the ladies of his
acquaintance.  Can Mlr. Beecher, inl his circle, boast  nobler,
358 
X.[FS. JONES GOULD TELL.'
truer, purer women than those identified w'ithl the various refoirm imovements ill this cotntrv? Neither ialr. nor Mris. Tiltoi
need be asliained of such ecqutaintances as Gra'ce Greenwood,
Celia Burleigli, AnnIa  Dickinison, Lucy- Stone, Susan  B. Anthony or Pautlina Davis, whlo lhave all been hlonoie(i visitorIs at
his house.  It is beneath the dignity- of any man or committee
of iiien to attempt to shadow lives like these.
lep)orter-Do you think M iss Anthony would be will.ng to
testify  before the conmmittee?
51rs. Staantoni-I think not; but before the civil courts slhe
un(lolubte(ily would.
Il)eporter-Mlrs. Stanton, do you believe in the doctrine of
firee love, as advocated by Mrls. WAVoodliull?
AlMrs. Stanton —No; I believe iii law.  I have always been in
favor of doing everythingii  in hlqarmony with law.   In nimy address on" 1Alarriage and Di'vorce," which was made in slubstance
before the Legislature of New York, I gave my views on tlhe
whole social question.  The speech is published.  Any- one can
refer to it.
RPeporter-Tlie Chlicago -1ail andl Post attrilibtes  to AIrs.
Jones these words:-"  i iss Anitholiy would not have revealed
a comfession of crimninality made by Mrs. Tilton to anliy onenot even lMrs. Stan-ton."  What have you to say on thatt?
Atrs. Stanton-3Irs Jones did not tell to the MA(ail an?d Post
all tlihat she mig,ht have tol(l.  Iliss Anthlonyr and I lhave been
inltimate fi'iends for more than thirty years.  Wh'lien we met the
eveninig after the conlfessions, both fresh with astonislhnient it
was perfectly natural tlat we should mutually confide.  And
we did so.
Reporter —Ha-ne you heard firom Iliss Anthony since the pulblication of' your statement?
Mrs. Staniton-I have.  She has been on  a lecturingl tour,
and has been very unwiilling,r to say aiiytliing about the matter.
She considere(l it would be a breach of confidence.
Rleporter-I)id you read'Mr. Carl)enter's statement, published
in the Argits?
lMrs. Stanton-I dlid, and in its confirmation I have to say
that duriing my recent visit to Patilina Davis at Provid(lence site
told me that she had heard this story firom  Oliver Jolihnson's
family loing before I  iknew anythling of it.
Reporter-l What do you tliinkwf Mr. Tilton's arrest.
Mrs. Stantoin-I was in.lhopes that it would bring the case
into the courts, but I sulppose some other means will have to be
taken to.accomplish that end.
1159
0
0 
E. D. IIOLTON TVAS PRESEFT.
At the conclusion of the interview, which had been pleasantly- seasoned withl a lunchl aind sl)ice(1 with racy reml-aiks on a variety- of tol)ics, lMrs. Stallton observed, " I (don't like to be represented by- tlhe press as strikingcr a blow at a woman; but
vlien it comes to the  womenl of the suffrage movement an(l Mr.
Beerhe, I prefer to let him kickthle beam, thoulgh he may take
some one woman with hiin."
Mr. Frank B. Carpenter, who figured as a friend of Mr. Tilton in all the negotiations with Rev. Dr. Bacon was interviewed
by an Argus reporter on July 26th and thus described his colnnection with the case:   I was first bro(ughrlt actively into this case by 3Mr. Beechler.
On Sulniday, May  25tli 1873, Mr. Becelher seCIt  [r. 1II. IM.
Cleavelandc, his confidential friend aind business partner, to my
residence, in Forty-fifthl street, with a hoise and( ca,riage. Mr.
Cleavelaind tol( me that Mr. Ieecclier wislhed me to come imnmediately to Brlookllyn.  On our way to 1lrooklynl-, Mr. Cleaveland
said that Mr. Beechier had( learnled that Mi. Bowen had reasserted to ime the cliarges against him (Beecliei) whliclh hle had
formerly m:cde to Mil. Tilton, I)but which hl e had i'eti'acted(I in a
wr'ittenl covenanIt, ill tllhe possessioli- of Mr. l. B1. Claflin.  Air.
BLeeclle' had learned that Mr. Bowen had said to myself, and(
also in the presence of Mr. E. I). HIolton, a citizen of:Milwaiikie (in an interview at the I)t(lel)eit(deit office), that hle di(l not
wish us to iunderstandl that lie had  ma(le a retraction.   Mr.
Cleavelandl sai(l'MiI. Beecher wished me to confi-oit Mr. Bowen
on thiese points.   Ile also said that the tripartite covenant
was to b)e made 1)Tl)lic.  IMr. Cleavelanli(  drove mec to  ir.
Motulton's 1house, in Remsen street.  Mr. IBeeclie was not there,
but   Il'. Moulton said it was IMr Beeclier's wish that I should
go to IMr. Bowen's house that eveni(ng, in company with MAr.
Claflin and himself (.Mr..), and rel)peat to them the substance
of what Mr. Bowen had said to me.  A  few minutes later, Mr.
Tilton came to IMr. Moutlton's house; I told him about makilng(r
the covenant public.  jMr. Tilton said that if Mr. Beeclhe's
friends made that covenant public, it would( be a veiry dangerotis tlingi.  lie protested against tlhe puiblicitv.
Aboutt eilght o'clock Sutnday eveningi, Mr. lMoulton and myself went to AIr. Claflin's house, in Piec,repont street, where we
found Mr, Claflin, and tlIi  all l)roceeded to Mr. Bowenl's residence, corner of Clark and Willow streets.  There I recounted
360 
CLAFLI.Y EXPRESSES ASTONISItIfElIYT.
to },:r. Bowen, in the presence of Aliessrs. Claflini and Af{oulton,
the statements made 1)3h Mi. Bowen to my-self concerning Mr.
Beechelr.   I1r. Bowen a(idmitted( all that I said, atnd Mr  Claflin
exl)ressed his astonishment that Mr. Bowen should have told
those things after signing the coveiinant   Mr. Claflin  was the
man who induced Bowen  to siign that covenant.  MiN'. Bowen
sti li e )proteste(d agoainst giving p)ublicity to the co-venant.  I
said to Mr. Bowen: "The siimplest justice to 3Ir. Beechler
requires that, if your statements conce rning MAlr. Beeclher are
not true, you should make the most uinqualified )public denial.
But itf they are true, stand by your statements."  Mr. Bowen
had said to me that Mr. Beelcer had made a confession on his
knees to hlim.  3Mr. Tiltoni a(d Mrl. iMoulton had been told by
Beeclher that this was a lie.  I said: " M,r. Bowen, there is a
direct lie between you and Mr. Beecher, and for one, I \vant to
know the truth."
Mr. Claflin said  " I think we lhadcl better have  1r. B3ecelier
here, to-nighlt."
I said( I would be glad to have  r. BIeeclier present.
IMr. Bowen said-: " I am willing to lhave  Ir. Beeclher come
here, ancd will confiont himi."
Mr. Claflin volunteered to go acnd get him, when M1r. 3loutlton starte(l till) and said:
"Mr. Claflin, I will go."
Ie went out, and was gone fifteen or twentv minuites.  IlIe
returned without Mr. Beecher, saying that the house was closed
an(l the windows (larkened; that lie ra, the b)ell, but couldn't
rl'ise anybody.  This was about 10:30 o'clock.  Mtr. Claflin
then said
Well, I think it's veiryi inportant that Alr. Bowen and M[r.
Beechler should have a private interview before this matter goes
a,iiy further."
Mr. Bowen ple(lodgedl that hle wotldI be ready andcl willing to
see iMr. IBeechler the next day (MAonlday), anyi time  between
eight o'clock in the morningi and ten o'clockl at nigholt.
Mr. Claflin said hle would see -lr. Beecher the next morning
and arrainge such an interv-iew, and, a few minutes later, we
le(ft 5Ir. BowenI's residence.
A few days af'ter this I saw Mr. Claflin, who told me that lhe
had(l seen MIr. Beecher the next day, and that Mr. Beeclher
sai(l:
There isn't force efnough it t 7rootlyI?t to  draz nte irto a l)rivate interview wcith'Ie,ry C. Botvei."
1G
0
361
i 
.BO  WEN..MDEA MISTAK-E.
At this time I had never seen the tripartite covenant, but
zMr. Claflin had told me the paper was ill his hands.
In my business relations with Mr. Bowen, we had frequent
conversations in reogard to his diffculty with, Mr. Beeclher.  On
one occasion, Mr. Bowen told me thalt they first wanted him to
sign a much more  sweepingo doc4ument, declaring his chlarg(es
against MIr. Beecher to be untrue.  This, hlie said lie had refuLsed
to do.  MIr. Claflia then urged him to at least sign a l)aper
witihdrawing the charges, and lie consente(l to d(lo that.  In
regard to the second pap)er, Mr. Bowen subsequently said: "I
mad(le a mistake in signing that, but Mr. Claflin induced me to
do it."
On the following Fri(lday (MAay 30thl, 1873), the tripartite
covenant was mad(le public in the New York  morning papers.
The followingo SLunday nighit I went to Plymouith Church, aid(
after the services I went up  to have some conversation with
lr. Beecher in regard to his sending Mr. Cleaveland for me
the previous Sunlday.
"1Mr. Carpenter," says the interviewer, " here repeated to
the wr-iter the substance of the conversation which took place
between MAr. Beecher and himself that evening.  We can only
say that the statements which Mr. Carpenter says Mr. leecliecr
made that evening are, if true, of the utmost significance and
iml)ortance.  Mr. Carpenter  declares that he will not malie
public this conversation, unless he is called upon to testify
before the proper tribunal. It was cLduring( this interview that
Mr. Beecher told Mr. Carpenter that in case Theodore would
make certain disavowals, he would share his fame and fortune
with him, and pour in subscribers to the Golldeni Aye by the
thousands.   The interview whichll  Mr.  Carpcnter speaks of
occurred on the evening of thle same day, when  Mr. Beecher
wrote  his  touching letter, dated  Sunday, June  1st, 1873.
Great significance attaches to Mr. Carpenter's statement, from
the fact that Mlr. Beecher's card, exonerating:ir. Tilton from
being his slanderer and defamer, was published the next day,
June 2nd, 1873.
Reporter-How  long have you been acquainted with Mr.
Tilton?
Mr. Carpenter-Twenty ycears.
IReporter-l{ave you been intimate with him?
MIr. Carpenter-I have.
Reporter-Has he everbvinced, either by word or manner,
vindictiveness or nmaice ag,ainst Henry Ward( Beecher?
362 
CARPENTER'S STATEiMEiNYl.
3Ir. Carpenter-No.  I never knew a man to bear so much.
One of tlhe editors of the Eagle told me that Theodore Tilton
ha(l sutffered more than any man since Jesus Christ.  Tilton
told me the night he put the Bacon letter to p,'ess that lie
would rather take tllirty-nine lashes in the flesh, an(l draw blood
every time, than hav-e p)rinted this thlling against MIr. Beecher.
Tilton further said': " Ir. Beecher has laid open his breast,
and told me to smite.  His pleading face is before me  now.
BIltit Dr. Bacon has put me in the attitude of a knave and a dlog,
and I must place my-self righlt before the world." Hle also
said:' This is no impersonal newspaper attack.  Dr. Bacon
was my senior on the Itdel)endent   lIe is a good and wise
man, and( if his statement gocs forth uncontradicted(l, I am  dis graced before Christendom."  The morning that Dr. Bacon's
speechl was published, MIr. Beecher, MIr. Tilton, MIr. Moulton,
and Mr.'homas G. Slihearman were togrethler in IMr. Mooulton's
stu(Iy.  Mlr. Tilton took out of his pocket a New York paper
containing a report of Dr. Baconi's speech.  That part of the
speeclh referring to Bl'eecher's magnanimity and( to  Tilton's
being a kinave and a (ldogr, IMr. Tilton read to Mr. Beecher.   lie
then said: "t Mr. Beeclher, you know that I have treate(l you
withl the utmost fairness, and that the statements of Dr. Bacon
are untrue.  I call upon you, as a simple act of justice, to make
a correction of Dr. Bacon's charges. You have a newspaper of
3your own; you can do it without compiomising(r yourself, andl
without damage to yourself.  If you do not correct the impression which 1)r. Bacon has given the public, I shall be compelled
to do it myself; and if I do it,:Ir. Beecher, it will be (lone
with serious dlamage to you."  AIr. Beecher made no reply.
Reporter-Have you regarded Theodore Tilton as  a talebearer?
Air. Carpenter —Theodore Tilton has striven  to shield these
parties.  I)r. Storrs has freqtuently commented on his utter
absence of vindictiveness, and the sorrow-stricken air and attitud(le withl which AMri. Tilton came to him to ask his advice.
RPeporter-What was the character of MIr. Tilton's home?
3Mr. Carpenter-It was one of the most delightfil homes I
ever knew.
lReporter —Are you prepared to say, firom -our own knowledgle, that 3Ir. Tiltoni was disinclined to publish the letter to
Dr. BIacon?
Mrt. Carpenter —I am,.and d(lo so say.  After Dr.  Bacon
made that speech to the Divinity Class, 31r. Tilton wrote him
363
6 
INTERVIEW WITH DR. PACON.
a private letter, to correct the false impressions Dr. Bacon had
formed up to three months alter Mr. Tilton called Ir Beecher's
attention to Dr. Blacon's open attackl on him.  Mr. Beecher
had made no10 sign, had shown no intention, of replying.  Then
Tilton wrote thle Bacon letter, as the least he could d(lo in justice
to his own good name, to his children, and to his fiieinds.  Itis
intimate friends demanded that he should do it.  They told
Mr. Tilton that if he allowed such charges as Dr. Bacon lhad(l
made, concerning, him, to pass unrefuted(, he would forfeit the
respect of everybody.  Mr. Tilton asked me if I would ta]ke
his letter to Dr. Bacon.  I said I would.  At my request lie
accompanied me to New Haven, as I thoughlt Dr. Bacon, upon
reading that letter, would wish to ask questions which I couldn't
answer.  Mr. Tilton finally consented to go with me.  Dr.
Bacon received us with courtesy and kindness.  Mr.  Tilton
said: " Dr. Bacon, I have come to you with my Statement.
You have represented me before the world as a bad man.  You
have not had the facts in this case on which to fo-m a correct
judgment.  I have come here, believing you to be a wise and
good man-incapable of doing any man willful injustice.  I do
not want to make this case public, and I have come here with
my friend, Mr. Carpenter, who bears this letter, in the hope
that your wisdom may devise a course by which my good name
may be saved, without giving publicity to the facts in this
case."  He then read the letter to Mr. Bacon, with scarcely an
interruption.   When he finished, Dr. Bacon said: " I have
been thilnking, Mr. Tilton, as you have been reading, whether
this is a private communication?"
Mr. Tilton said: " All I want is justice.  I hope you will
su(ggest some way by which justice may be done without giving( the case to the world."
A reference was then made to Mr. Bowenl's part of the tripartite covenant, and Dr. Bacon said:
"I have observed that Mr. Bowen, in withdrawing his charges,
does not say they are not true.  He simply withdrew them."
Mr. Tilton spoke charitably and feelingly to Dr. Bacon with
regard to Mr. Beecher, and did not show mialice or vindictiveness.  I call upon Dr. Bacon to testify to the truth of my statement.  As we rose to take our leave, Dr. Bacon si(l lhe could
not give advice on so important a matter without reflection.
We bade him good-bye, ad returned to New Yorkl the same
evening(r. This was,Friday, the 19th of last month.
The next evening, Mr. Tilton asked me to write a note to Dr.
3 6,1 
HIS LETTER TO TIHE DOCTOR.
Bacon, asking him if he could recommend any course by which
publication could be avoidcld. In compliance with his request,
I wrote this note:
NEW YORK, June 20th, 1874.
Rev. Dr. Bacon:                       t 
IY DEAR SIR-I was at Mr. Tilton's office to-dclay, and had a
conversation with him concerning our recent interview at your
study.  The impression which vou left on his min(l was that of
great fairness and candor towards his case and himself.  This
he expressed to me in still stronger terms than at first..He
told me, furthermore, that, relying on your sense of justice, lhe
would willingly forego the publication of his dcefence, if, in
your judgment, the vindication of his course towards Plymouth
Church could be accomplished in some other way than in
making painful references to the pastor.
Mr. Tilton's respect for your opinion as to the wisest course
for him to pursue is so strong that I am sure lie wrill either
publish or suppress his letter, aiccordcling as you shall advise.
He said, to-(day, with great seriousness: " If I could see Dr.
Baconi again, I would ask him this question:' Is there any
reason, either of morals or of expediency, which should forbid
me to J)ublishli this letter?'  In other words, is the injury which
this publication will inflict on Mr. Beecher too great to warrant
mv resort to so extreme a measure in self-defence?
Mr. Tilton feels that the publication of his letter will strike
a blow at Mr. Beecher firom which he never can recover, anId
for this reason Mr. Tilton hopes yon may be able to relieve
him from his distressing public position without entailing distress upon Mr. Beecher.  Mr. Tilton's continued silence, as you
know, has been greatly misinterpreted by the public. The few
who have stood faithfully through the storm of detraction, are
now urgent that he should speak.
Any communication from you to myself will be considered
confidential in its character, should you so desire.
I am, truly yours,
F. B. CARPENTER.
"This letter," said Mr. Carpenter, " I dclid not send, as I
learned thlrouglh Mr. C. C. Woolworth, of Brooklyn, that an
esteemed mutual friend was going immediately to New Haven.
I called on this friend (a Broklyn gentleman esteemed for his
piety and learning, whose name Mr. Carpenter desires to have
suppressed for the present), and laid before him the points of
365
0 
OTHER LADIES ILYVOL FED.
my letter, asking him to have an interview with Dr. Bacon, and
endeavor to arran(ge some settlement -by which plublicit- could
be avoided.
" No  word came, and after waiting until Wednesd,ay afternoon, the letter was printed.  M- firiend saw Di-. Bacon, as he
had promised, iand, in the com'se of the interview, Di-. iacon
said:'If MIr. Tilton publishes that letter, ai(nd  lynyouthl
Church does not reply to it within twenty-'our hours l)y a suit
at law against Mr. Tilton, they will have no case before the
Christian public.'"
Mir. Carpenter continued:   "In the original letter, as read to Dr. Bacon, the charge
against MIr. Beecher was in these words:-' Kinowlecdge came
to me, in 1870, that lie (IMr. Beeclier) had committed against
me and my family a revolting crime.'  After the letter was in
type and the proof was being corrected, one of Mr. Beecher's
intimate friends implored Tiltonl to change this language, and
make the charge in the words:' An oflence which I forbear to
name or characterize.''his gentleman said to Mr. Tilton, in
my  presence:' If you will so change this languagce, Mr.
Beecher will maklie a public acknowle(lgment of an offence.'
iMr. Tilton at first refused to so modify the expression, but was
ov-erruiledl by the plea(ling(s of Mr. Beecher's friends.  I consider this anothier proof that Theodore Tilton has acted without
malice in this matter."
Reporter-Did not  fri. Tilton think that Mr.  Beecher's
apology bound him to silence?
MAr. Carpenter-l-He never revealed that apology either to Dr.
Storrs or myself until after ilr. Beeclier wrote the letter of defiance calling for an investigating committee.
Reporter-In what terms was MIrs. Tilton referred to by her
husband?
AMr. Carpenter-Alway-s  in the language of affection, and
often with pride.
Reporter-hIas MAr. Cleveland ever intimated to you that, in
case of dlisclosure, other lad(lies woul(d be involved?
Ar. Carpenter-l-He has repeatedly.
Reporter-Didl he mention names?
MIr. Carpenter-Ile (lid.
Reporter-Will you state them?
~lr. Carpenter-I will net.
Reporter-Will 3-ti state them if called upon to give them
before a court?
366
I 
JOH.NSON KNO WS ABO UT Ii'.
SIr. Carpenter-I might then be compelled to.   I will not
do it v-oltintaril-.
Rleporter-Di(d you ever have any conversation with Oliver
Johnson in reference to this case?
MAr. Carpentetr-   -hy (lo -yout ask this question?
Reporter —lMr. Johnson stated before the coinmitteethat Mr.
Tilton ha(l  never, in conversation  with him, accused  Mr.
Beecher of criminality.  Did inr. Johnson ever inltimate toyou
that Mrl. Tilton had charged criminality?
MIr. Carpenter —He  has.   Alr. Johnson and myself, as the
friends of Mr. Theodore Tilton, have fiequently talked over
this matter.  I had reason to consider Mr. Johnson Mr. Tilton's most intimate friend next to Mr. Moulton.  Mr. Johnson
and myself often conversed about Mr.  Tilton with  mutual
interest and sy-mpatlhy for him.  Mr. Johnson gave me my first
absolute conviction that there was something criminallv wrong
between Mr. B3eecher anld Mrs. Tilton.  MAlr. Johnson distinctly
told me that Mlr. Tilton had charged adultery between Mr.
Beecher and Mirs. Ti]ton.  This statement was made to me in
July, 1873, at the foot of the stairs leading to the office of the
Ch/r'istiat}T ~ ion.
I can prove that Oliver Johnson used these words;  "My
lips are sealed by a solemnl promise; but if I should disclose
whlat I klinow, the roof of Plymouthl Church would come right
off'."  Another time, Mr. Johnson said to me, " I know a great
deal more about this case than you do, and what you know is
bad eloughll."
Reporter —Ilave you read -Irs. Tilton's statement?
Mr. Carpenter-I1 have.
Repl)orter-Has Mrs. Tilton ever made any admissions to you
compromising Mir. Beecher?
Mr. Carpenter-AMrs. Tilton, in my presence, was asked by
AIr. Tilton to put in writing sometlhing in reference to her relationI  with MAr. Beecher, that he coul(  show to Dr. Storris.
This was in December, 1872, or January, 1873,  iMrs. Tilton
assentedl willingly, and(l, goilng to her room, retiurned in a few
mnoments with a manuscript, on which was written, as near as
I can remember, these wor(ds:
" On a certain occasion, AMrl. Eeeeher solicited me to become
a wife to him, with all that is imp)lied in this relation.  This
proposition I communicated to my husband,"  IMr. Tilton took
that  writingo to Rev. Dr, Storrs.
Reporter- How do know this?
t
367 
.DP. STOPRS CALLED U'POX.
MIr. Carpenter-I accompanied Mr. Tilton, and saw Theo dore place this document in Dr. Storrs' hand.
Reporter —Why was Dr. Storrs called into this case?
MIr. Carpenter —Mr. Tilton knew Dr. Storrs as an intimate
firieind of Mr. Beechler's, and he went to him for counsel soon
after the Woodhull letter appeared. Hle said: "Dr. Storrs I
come to you for advice in regard to the proper action to be
taken by myself in reference to the statements made in the
Woodhull letter."
Dr. Storrs replied: "I have not read the statement made by
Mrs. Woodhull, but if you think it is of sufficient importance
to merit attention, I will do so.
Dr. Storrs read the remarkable Woodhull story, and a few
days later, when Mr. Tilton visited him, said:
"Mr. Tilton, I have read this paper carefully, and if the
statements are true, I draw from them four conclusions."
Mr. Tilton asked what the conclusions were.
Dr. Storrs then said:
First-Tlhat Mr. Beecher and Mrs. Tilton had criminal
relations.
Second-That you discovered that.
Thlirdl-Tlhat Mr. Beecher received a paper from Mlrs. TiltonII denying that such relactions had ever existed.
Foutlrtll-That  Mr.  Moulton got  that  paper  from  Mr.
Beecher.
Mr. Tilton said: "Dr. Storrs, what if those points can't be
denied?"
Dr. Storrs replied: "If those points cannot be denied, I
have no advice to give.  An  evasion would be worse than
silence.
Reporter-Did Mr. Tilton tell Dr. Storrs all the facts in the
case.
Mr. Carpenter —Ie did not.  Ile told me he did not want
to bring disgrace upon his wife, and, when he obtained from
her the admission which hle took to Dr. Storrs, lie said lie preferred that it should be made as delicate for Elizab)eth as possible, but he could not bear to have the world think that lhe
was attacking Mr. Beecher without just provocation, when the
truth was exactly the opposite.
Reporter-Have you read Samuel Wilkeson's letter?
Mr. Carpenter-Certailwy.  Mr. Wilkesoni has surely been
misinformed.  The idea That Theodore Tilton attenil-)ted to
blackmail anybody, l can dispose of in about five minutes;
368 
TILTON ILY THE RIGHT.'
and I am glad you mentioned Wilkeson's communication.  Mr.
Bowen employed Mr. Tilton to edit the In(le)endent and the
Ustion, making a contract for five years.  The contract pro vided that, in case MIr. Bowen should violate its terms, the for feit should be six months' salary in advance.  Mr. Tilton w-s
discharged. He naturally expected that Mr. Bowen would, according to the contract, pay him six months' salary. The
matter was left to arbitration. The gentlemen selected as arbitrators were James Freeland, Horace B. Claflin and Charles
Storrs. Both Mr. Bowen and Air. Tilton declared that they
would abide by the finding of these arbitrators.  Messrs. Freeland, Claflini and Storrs examined the contracts made between
Mir. Tilton and Mr. Bowen, and, in a few moments, decidled
that MIr. Bowen ought to pay principal and interest to Mr. Tilton up to the last penny of the amount claimed.  "This,"
said Mr. Carpenter, "is the truth about the so-called'blackmailing,' operation of Mr. Tilton's.  It is just such abuse and
misrepresentation of Tiltoin as this tlhat has induced me to
speak. I have felt and do feel very much as Frank Moulton
does. Theodore Tilton is in the right in this matter. lie
should not be sacrificed.  And I say this as an ardent admirer of Henry Ward  Beecher.  Frank Moulton was sincere
when he said he loved Beecher, but beyond and above the love
anid admiration for that man, there is a controlling consideration of justice, and I know Frank Moulton too well to believe
that hlie will think of shielding Henry Ward Beecher by wrongilg, Theodore Tilton.
Reporter-Have you any statement or explanation to make
concerning your affidavit charging that Mr. Beecher told you
he would share his fame, fortune and honor with Mr. Tilton,
in case Tilton would do certain things?
Mir. Carpenter-Only this: That I made that affidavit so
that it would bear as lig(htly against Mr. Beecher as possible.
Reporter-Do you still refuse to give the substance of the
conversation you had with Mr. Beecher on the evening of June
1st, 1873?
AIr. Carpenter-I do.  No power save a legal tribunal shall
oblige me to make public the statements in that interview.
Reporter-In alluding to Mr. Tilton's character, you stated
that Horace Greeley and Charles Sumner had both alluded to
Mr. Tilton's case. 
M'r. Carpenter-Yes, Iorace Greelcy said to me:  "Nobody
can make me believe Theodore Tilton is a corrupt man-no
16*
369
6 
TIIUN.DERBOLT OUGHT TO TALL.
matter what Mrs. Woodhull says."  In  Marcl, 1873, when
Sumnier was sitting to me for his portrait, lie spoke of Tilton
in these words: "1Theodore'I'iltoa is a great writer.  He is a
man of genius.  In refeirence to his domestic troubles, I doubt
the propriety of longer silence on h1is part.  I think the thlunderbolt oughlt to fall."
I said: "How can you say thltt, when such interests are involved? "
Mr. Sumner replied: "I have been called into one such case,
and I have seenl the utter folly and futility of all measures to
cover wrong."
Reporter-What is your opinion of Mrs. Tilton's statement?
Mr. Carpenter-I hesitate to express an opinion, for Mrs.
Tilton has made such unaccountable statements to me.   For
instance, you remember I told you I was present when she put
in writilng the statement that Beecher had solicited her.  Less
than a year after, in conversation witli her, she told me that
her admission in that letter was untrue.
Reporter-Do you think Mr. Tilton publislhed the Bacon letter because hle tlot,oughlt it was Dr. Bacon's judgment that an
investigationi should be had?
iMr. Calrpenter-I do.  Ile appealed to Dr. Bacon for advice,
but waited in vain for a single word of counsel.   Dr. Bacon
did say, hlowever, to the friend who called on him in Theodore's
behalf, that if Mr. Tilton did not make that letter public, he
should be inclined to do it himself.  Dr. Bacon had the utmost confidence in Mir. B13eecher's innocence, and, in the face of
such serious charges, he very naturally and wisely wanted to
see an issue made, and have the scandal settled finally and forever.
Reporter-It has been stated that Mr. Bcecher did not think
lhe could consistently defend Mr. Tilton until the latter renounced Mrs. WAVoodhlull and her associates.
Mr. Carpenter-That is true.  Mr. Beecher told me that if
Theodore would take the public position hle wanted him to, on
the Woodhull question, lie woultt pour subscriptions into the
Golden Aye office by tlhe thlousands.  Oliver Johnson, at one
time, prepared a statement for Tilton to sign in regard to
Woodhull, but Tilton declined.  Mr. Tilton asked his intimate
friends not to lose sighlt of the fact that Mr. Beecher addressed
to him the letter of apology six months before he (lilton) e ver
saw Victoria C. Woodhull.                      l
Reporter-You saicthat the phrase in Mr. Tilton's original
.-o
0 i
0 
TILTON~ CIII VALJROUS.
letter to Dr. Bacon was one charging Mir. Beecher with a "revolting crime." You added that thlis phlrasewas modified so as
to read, "'an offense which I forbear to name or characterize."
Who was the friend of Alr. Beecher who induced Mr. Tilton to
modify the language of the clarge?
Mr. Carpenter-lie  vsts a fi'iend of both MIr. Beecher and
MAr. Tilton.
Reporter-Was it Frank Moulton?
Mr. Carpenter-I decline to answer. But it was through
his earnest pleading that the change was made.  I remember he
said:
"Theodore, don't put that word' crime' in there-make it
easy for Beecher to explain."
Air. Tilton assented, with the assurance from this friend that
the modification would bring from Mr. Beechler a public acknowledgment of an offense.
Reporter-If MAr. Beecher knew of the existence of these letters, why did he challenge investigation?
MAr. Carpenter-There are several reasons which will answer
that question. You know he had previously been sustained
to a remarkable degree by his Church.  He may have known
that Airs. Tilton would sustain him, if it came to the worst.
He may have supposed that the most important documentary
evidence was destroyed, as did Mrs. Tilton. Or, driven to
desperation, he may have courted the worst, for you remember
he declared in one of his letters to Mr. Moulton:  "Nothing
can I)ossibly be so bad as the power of great darkness in which
I spend much of my time. I look upon death as sweeter far
than any friend I have in the world."
Reporter-What is your estimate of Theodore  Tilton, as a
moral man?
Mr. Carpenter-I have scrutinized him for years, and I
never could find in him, either in word or act, a suggestion of
impurity. He is the cleanest man in his conversation I ever
knew.  Toward all women, Mr. Tilton is the most chivalrous
of men. His references to his wife have invariably been of the
most delicate and affectionate character.  He has shielded her
in every possible way.
Reporter-Mr. Carpenter, you have made some very important statements in regard to this scandal.
Mr. Carpenter-I have stil more important ones in reserve.
And in conclusion I want the Argus to understand that I am
the friend of Theodore Tilton only so far as his position is one
t
371 
CGARPENTER'S TELEGRAM.
where he is fortified by truth. I have had an affection amounting to reverence for Henry Ward Beecher.  But I am afraid
this case has been taken out of Mr. B3eecher's hbands by his
enthusiastic and over-zealous friends.  The statements I have
made I am prepared to make affidavit to. The dates and
names I have quoted, I have mainly obtained from my written
record, for I have kept a diary for many years.
In order to make his statement as conmplete and emphatic
as possible, Mr. Carpenter sent the following telegram to the
editor of the Brooklyn Argus, in which his interview was
given:
TOMFE  N. Y., July 29th, 1874.
To the Editor of the Argus:-Please add to my statement to-day that
Mr. Tilton told Rev. Dr. Storrs and mysclf, in December, 1872, that he
had not told and could not tell us the whole truth.
Mir. Tilton never made a threat against Mr. Beechler.
He only spoke in self-defence, and as a wronged and suffering man.
In all references to Mr. Beechler's apology, MTr. Tilton always omitted
the most important part of it-slshielding his wife to Dr. Storrs, myself,
and others.
FRANK B. CARPENTER.
The third week of the investigation ending August 1st,
during which the above interviews occurred, developed little
as to the doings of the committee. WThen Carpenter's statement appeared Oliver Johnson was interviewed and made general denials of the correctness of his statements. Members of
the committee remainied very reticent in their conversation
with the gentlemen of the press who visited them by the score,
but all seemed still disposed to shield Mr. Beecher. In the
meantime Frank Moulton,the mediator between Messrs. Beeclher and Tilton,had been summonsed before the committee to
testify, as the committee declared they wanted his evidence
before Mr. Bcecher put in his final answer and the case was
closed. Mr. Moulton, however, had disappeared.
While the reporters were chasing everybody in the country
who was supposed to be able to throw new light on the scandal,
and the committee were hoeing daily sessions, a very different
scene was being enacted elsewhere.  A reporter of the Aryus,
372 
TILTON SUED FOR LIBEL.'
which throughout the investigation strongly championed Mr.
Tilton's cause,went before a police justice and sued out a warrant for the arrest of Mr. Tilton for libelling Mr. Beechler.
This  extraordinary action created intense excitement.  The
complainant quoted the law justifying any citizen in making a
complaint and the Justice held Mr. Tilton for examination on
Monday, August 3d.
It may be mentioned in this connection that on Friday
evening, July 31st, Mrs. Woodhull and Miss Claflin, accompanied by Mr. James McDernmott went before the committee
to testify; but were not admitted. They then handed in a
written statement of the facts they would testify to, but it
was returned to them and they were driven from the door.
They had engaged passage to Paris on the steamer of the following day, but after this rebuff they changed their plans and
abandoned the European trip. Thus closed one of the most
exciting weeks in the recollection of Brooklynites, with (to all
appearances) the committee no nearer a solution of the scandal than when they entered upon the investigation.  It may,
however, be incidentally stated here, that the Brooklyn Eagle
published the following letter for the genuineness of which it
vouchled:  MY DEAR MRS. TILTON:-I hoped that you would be shielded from the
knowledge of the great wrong that hlas been done to you, and through you
to universal womanhood. I can hardly bear to speak of it or allude to a
matter than which nothing can be imagined niore painful to a pure and
womanly nature.  I pray daily for you, "that your faith fail not." You
yourself know the way and the power of prayer. God has been your
refuge in many sorrows before. Ile will now hide you in Ilis pavilion
until tlheo storm be overpast.  The rain that beats down the flower to the
earth will pass at length, and the stein, bent, but not broken, will rise
again and blossom as before.
Every pure woman on earth will feel that this wanton and unprovoked
assault is aimed at you, but reaches to universal womanilood.
Meantime your dear children will love you withl double tenderness, and
Theodore, against whoml these shts are hurled, will hide you in his heart
of hearts.
373
0 
BF~EClIEl TO lJ?RS. I'JLTOiV.
I am glad that this revelation from the pit has given him a sight of the
danger that was before hidden by specious appearances and promises of
usefulness.  MNay God keep him in courage in the arduous struggle which
he wages against adversity, and bring limi) out, though nmuchl tried, like
gold seven times fired.
I have not spoken of myself.  No word could express the sllharpness and
depth of my sorrow in your behalf, my dear and honored friend.  God
walks in the fire by the side of those lie loves, and ill heaven neither you
nor Theodore nor I shall regret the discipline, how hard soever it may
seem now.
May I-e restrain and turn those poor creatures who  have been given
over to do all this sorrowful harm to those who have deserved no such
treatment at their hands!
I commend you to my mother's God my dear friend!  May His smile
bring light in darkness and hlis love be a perpetual summer to you!
Very truly yours,                              -HEiNRY WARD B.EECHER.
374
0
0 
~'~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I\~
XX
\ \~\>\~j %~\
I I~
\ ~>~\\
~ffi
IIEN-l'Y',AGI'
.I -
II 
0 
CHAPTER XV.
MRS. TILTON'S CROSS-EXAM3INATION —HER DESPERATE EFFORTS
TO CLEAR THE CHARACTER OF THE ACCUSED PASTOR-A
HIGHLY SEASONED PICTURE OF DOMESTIC INFELICITY AND
BRUTAL TREATMENT OF ELIZABETH BY THEODORE-OUR
"-MUTUAL FRIEND MOULTON" HAS A SHARP CORRtESPOND ENCE ANIT"I- HENRY WARtD, AND FINALLY AGREES TO MAKE
A CLEAN BREAST OF ALL HE KiNOWS-TILTON INSTRUCTS
HIS COUNSEL TO BEGIN AN ACTION OF DAMAGES AGAINST
BEECHER FOR THIE SEDUCTION OF HIS WIFE-THE HUMORtOUS
SIDE OF THE SCANDAL-" SIR SINBAD'S ADVICE."
N the afternoon of the 3d of August the Committee of In   quiry published a card, requesting all persons knowing anything of the case to go before said body and testify on the following (Tuesday) evening, which they intimated would be the
last for receiviing testimony.  In the meantime, Mr. Carpenter
had notified them of his determination not to appear.  Mr.
Moulton still kept away, and the criminal proceedings commenced by Mr. Gaynor in the court had been abandoned.  The
public began to surrender all hope of the facts coming out, and
disappointment was the natural consequence on the part of
those who relish so stupendous a scandal. On Tuesday morning Mrs. Tilton's cross-examination was published and the picture she drew of her home and the erratic life of Theodore read
like a novel.  It is not the purpose of the author to gratify the
depraved tastes of any one by giving all the cross-examination,
but he selects that portion telegraphed over the country by the
Associated Press, as a readable and unob)jectionable sketch of
it. MIrs. Tilton opens her cross-examinationi thus:
375
6 
MRS. TILTON VEI Y  CfMBLE.
"I wish these gentlemen to understand that to a very large
extent I take the blame upon myself of the indifference my
husband has shown to me in all my life.  At first I understood
very well that I was not to have the attention that many wives
had. I realized that his talent and genius must not be niarrowed down to myself.  That P made him understand.  Also,
to a very large extent, I attribute to that the later sorrows of
my life.  I gave him to understzand that what might be regarded as neglect, under the circumstances would not i)e
regarded by me as neglect in him, owing to hIis business and
to his desire to make a name for himself and to rise before the
world.  At the birth of the first three children I had very
severe and prolonged sickness, but when he saw me he never
felt that I was sick, because on seeing him I always tried to
feel well, I felt so desirous of his presence.  It was charged
upon me many a time by my mother and my brother, "When
Theodore or the doctor comes you are never sick."  They said
of me, "She has never a genius for being sick."
Q. Will you state just what attention your husband bestowed
upon you, in case of sickness during your confinement, or any
other illnesses if you had them? A. Well, I had no attention
whatever, I may truthfully say, from him, any more than a
stranger would give. I do not think it was from neglect so
much as from an inability on his part to understand that I
was sick anid suffering, though in fact I was very seriously ill.
In continuation, Mrs. Tilton stated that she was frequently
sick, and her physician said there was care and trouble on her
mind which he could not cure with medicine.
Q. What was the trouble, in point of fact?  A. Well, any
one of you gentlemen, I think, would have cared for my family
as much as Th'l'lleodore did. I was left entirely with my servants,
and they were poor servants. I could not have my mother
with me, because it was impossible for her to live with us on
account of disagreement with Mr. Tilton. Tilton was dissatisfied withl his home and with his wife's management, and was
harsh in his criticisms.
Q. Whlen did he begin to talk to you, if at all, in regard to
your associations and friendship for MAr. lBeechler?  A. 1 think
I had no visits fronI Mr. lBeeclher before 1866; that is the first
that I remember seeing him very much.
Q. What was the criticism in regard to Mr. Beecher and
vourself which Mt. Tilton made? A. I would like to go
back a little here, for I think it will show you my manner with
376
0 
SHIE TVAS CLOSELY WATCHED.
Mr. Beecher when I lived in Oxford street.  That was the
first of this which MIr.    filled my husbanid's mind, as early
as 1865.  Theodore then used to begin to talk to me about
AIr. Beeclher's wrong-doings with ladies, which he had heaid
from Mir., and night after night, and dav after day he
asked me about AMri. Beecher. IHe seemed to be worried onl
that subject, so that when Mr.  Beecher came to see me, Mr.
Tilton immediately began to have suspicions, but, in order
that I might be perfectly transparent to my husband with respect to my interviews with Mr. Beecher, whenever I was alone
withl him I used to make a memorandum and charge my mind
with all the details of tilce conversation that passed between us,
that I might repeat it to Mr. Tilton.  It was so in regard to
every gentleman who came to see me and with whom I sat
alone.  I was very closely vwatchled and questioned, but esl)ecially in regard to Ar. Beecler.  I attributed those criticisms
from Thieodore to Mr.'s criticisms.  I never had a visit
from iMr. B3eechler that I was not questioned.  Theodore would
question me till I thought I had told him all we talked about,
and pelrhaptls a day or two afterwards I would throw out a remi.rk which AMr. Beecher lhad made, and Theodore would Scty.
"You did not tell me that yesterday."  I would say "I forgot
it."  "You lie," he would say, "you didn't mean to tell me."
'"Oh, yes I did mean to tell you, but I forgot it."  For two or
three years I tried faithfully to repeat to my husband everything that I said and did until I found it made himn more sutspiciotus than ever. He believed I left out many things pilir1)osely, while I was conscious of never meaningly omitting
anything.  I wanted Theodore to kuow everything that passed between us.  I often said if he would only come home and
be there and know all.
Q. When did his complaints against you change from the
form of criticismi to that of accusation, or so,mething more thlan
criticism?  A. In the latter I)l'rt of the winter  and early
spriing of 1869-70 he began to talk to me, assuming, I had done
wrong.
Q. In what respect? A. With Mir. Beecher.
Q. Criminally' A. Yes.  I have been with him  days and
nights, talking this matter over, but I would like to have you
know that these conversations lasted for years, and th-at the
change of his thoughts from "4he old to the new," as he called
it, was gradual.  I used.to think his suspicions of me were
caused by his not being at rest in his ovwn mind.
377 
IT'EODO.RE WAS JELIL,O US
Q. When he assumed you had been guilty of criminal intimnacy with Mir. Beecher, how did you treat tlhe subject? A.
For a time I was very angii'ry, and expresse(l myself to him as
strongly as I possibly could.  I became angry and said I would
not be talked to in that way.
Q. State whlethler or not you inivariably denied that you ever
had ally criminial intimacy with Mr. Beecher.  A. I have indeed.  I remember that he not only clarged me with this in
my presence, but often became so audacious as to write to me
about it, and that seemed to mne unpardonable.
Q. In makiing those offensive allegations what did he say?
A. As often as any way, he said, "You will not deny that you
have had criminal intercourse," and lie tried to frighten me by
saying that he had seen certLin things.
Q. What things did he say he had seen?  A. I remember
that once or twice he pretended that he saw me sitting in Mr.
Beecher's lap at home, in the red chair in the parlor. In reply
to this I said " You didn't."  I do not know what you gentlemen will think, but you certainly can see that such a continual
talk, year in and year out, would have its influence upon me.
I came to be quite indifferent, except in regard to my anxiety
about him. It was a sort of morbid jealousy that hlie had. I
was worn out and sick with it.
Q. Was it only in respect to Mr. Beecher that he made these
accusations, or in respect to other people also?  A. In respect
to Mr. Beecher only, at that time.  About 1870 I believe he
began to think tlhait I had great admiration for several people
besides Mr. Beecher.
Q. Did he hesitate to mention names? A No, sir, he did
not.
Q. How many different persons did he mention? A. Two
or three gentlemen acquaintances.
Q. Did lie ever make to you any charge or accusation, even
with respect to Mr. Beeclher, namingi any defintite time or place
of any criminal act?  A. Oh, no, never.  lie never connected
any time with it.
Q. Did he ever pretend to you that you hadl beeni guilty of
any impropriety with MAr. Beecher at his (Beeclier's) house?
A. No. He wondered why I went there on two or three occasions.  I went on errands.  I attended Mr. Burgess a great
deal at the time of his death.  He was a poor Iman and I wient
to Mir. Beecher two.or three times to see him in regard to that
man.
378
a 
NE VER CONFE SSED TO lILff. 
Q. Did you ever meet Mr. Beecher at other places by appointment? A. Never at all; not once.
Q. Did Mr. Tilton ever base any accusations against you
upon any admissions which you had made to him, eithller with
resp)ect to an event at Mr. Beecher's or your house, or any
other place? A. Yes; he based an accusation ag(tinst me in
his public statement, uponl an interview which I had with MIr.
Beecher in my second-story room, and I deny it in my public
statement.
Q. In any conversation withl you at any time did he accuse
you of any wrong-doinig with Mir. Beecher, based on1 any
admission by you'? A. No, sir.
Q. Is it true that in July 1870 you confessed to your lusband any act or acts of impropriety witlh  Mr. Beecher?  A.
No.
Q. Did you admit to him any wrongs of criminal intimacy
with IMr. Beecher at other places? A. No, sir.
Mrs. Tilton was next questioned in reference to her letter
about Catherine Gaunit.  She said she had no reference therein
to adultery or thoiught of it.
Q. \Vliat did yolt refer to?  A. I will try to answer that
question.  The one absorbing feeling of my whole life has
been Theodore Tilton.  Neither MIr. Beecher, I assure you, nor
any human being lehas ever taken away from me that one fiact
of my love for him.  But I must say that I felt very great
helpfulness iii my own soul from having had the friendship of
iMr. Beecher, and also of other people, as many women as men.
I think that Tlieo(lore gathered up fromn all our talks in the
summer of 1870 that I really found in Mr. Beecher what I did
not find in him.  He got that, I know.  I gave it to him, but
I often said, "Theodore, if you had given to me what you
gave to others, I dare say I should find in you what I find in
Mr. Beecher."
Q. In your Schohlarie letter you spoke of your sin. What
did you mean by that?  A. Theodore's nature being a proud
one I felt on realdini that book that I had done himn wrongthat I had harmed him in taking any one else in any way,
althiough on lookling it over I do not think but that I should
do it again, because it has been so much to my soul.
Q. Talking any one else in what respect?  A. I do not think
if I had known as muchl  as    do now of MAr. Tilton that I
would ever have encouraged MIr. Beechler's acquaintance.  I
think I did wrong in doing it, inasmuch as it hurt Theodore.
379
a 
THEODORE ASHA13]ED O  ZHER.
I do not know as I can make myself understood, but do you
know vlwhat I mean when I say that I was aroused in myselfthat I had a self-assertion which I nev(,r knew before with
Theodore?  Tlere was always a damper between me and Theo(lore, but thlere never was between me and Mr. Beeclher.
WAithl Mr. Beecher I had a sort of consciousness of being more.
iHe appreciated me.  Theodore did not.  I felt myself another
woman.  I felt that he respected mne.  I think Theodore never
saw in me what Mr. Beecher did.
Mr. Sage-Do you mean to say that Theodore put down selfrespect in you, while Mr. Beecher lifted it up?
Answer-Oh yes! I never felt a bit of embarrassment with
Mr. Beechler, but to this day I never could sit down with Theodore witlhout being self-conscious and feeling his sense of my
inequality with him.
Witness contiuming, said the sin she spoke of was nothing
more tlihan giving to another what was due to her husband,
that which he did not bring out.  Ihowever, she did not feel
now that thlere was Iany great sili about it.  The sin was that
she hurt l]er litsbhand's )pride by allowingo any one else into hler
life at all.  Thlle wifely feeling she gave to her husband was
pure.  She gave Mr. Beecher nlothingi more than confidence
and resl)ect.  She taught her daugt,hters that if they gave their
husbands what she had given to hers, they would do enough.
Tilton frequently talked to her accusingly of the sensual effect
of her presence upon gentlemen.  His accusations were  hard
to live under.  He seemed to be ashamed of her appearance,
dress and bearings.  On one occasion, in a company of his
friends, he told her he would give $500 if she was not at his
side.  In hotels and public places onl several occasions hle said
to her, "I wish you would not keep near me." It was evident
to her that he did not want comp)arison made between them.
It hurt very much.  In 1870 she had a conversation with TiltonI regardiing his own habits and associates, in which he confessed criminality with other women.  She did not confess
adultery to him.  It was the other way.  He confessed to improper relations witll several othler women, and told her lhe
wished her to understand that vlwh-en he was away from home,
lecturing or isiting, if he desired to gratify himself he would
do it.  The world was filled with slanders about him.  He did
not seem to know it.  H  thought everything came from her,
and said so. Hlie dqclared that she was thle originator of all tlhe
talk about him, and insisted upon her correcting these imnpres
f
380 
SLE WROTEA T IIS DICTA TION.
sions. IHe said on one occasion that a certain wvoman had been
talking about him, a(nd he wanted his wvife to see her and put
an end to it.  Slie weIt to the wom'an and told her she should
have avoided adding to the stories already afloat, for her sake,
when she replied, " Mrs. Tilton, do you know whlly I didn't?
because the nighlt before, your husband hald told stories al)outlt
vourself to stuchl and such persons that came to me directly,
and I was not going to allow an accusation of that character
to stand against you."  Whlerever she went she found that
Tilton had not only made these accusations against her, but
had recounted the details, whl)ich lie has now publishled. Then
he would deny to her that he had done so. 
Mrs. Tilton's attention being called to her husband's allegation about the improper caress, she said there was no truth in
it.  She also denied the bedroom story, saying: Theodore hid
been with us that morning; hlie had gone out; Mr. Beecher
was sitting in a large chair,,and she had drawn lp a smaller
one.  Beecher had in hand a little manuscript he was going to
read.  She did not remember what it was.  The door from the
bedroom to the hall was shut, and she had shut the door leading from the sitting-room to the hall, which was usually open.
She had no sooner done that (whichl was to keep out the noise
of the children playing in the hall), and sat down by the side
of Beecher, when Theodore came to the other door.  Not five
minutes had elapsed since he went out.  There was no hesitationi in opening the door.  The folding doors were wide open.
The door leading to the hall from the bedicoomi was locked, but
that was not uncommon.  Her closing the other door, which
was seldom closed, perhiaps made Theodore suspicious.
Q. Was Mr. Beecher flushed when Theodore came in?  A.
Not at all.
Being next questioned as to the paper Tilton said she wrote
to him in the latter part of 1870, stating that Beccher made
improper approaches, witness said the paper she wrote was but
a couple of lines, as far as she could remember.  It was written at a time when nearly out of hler mind, but what Theodore
made her write she could not tell to this day; was conscious
of writing many things under his dictation, or copying them
off and giving them to him.
Q. Things that were false?  A. Oh yes
Q. What benefit did he tell you would come, if you would
make these statements?  A. Te said this statement was to help
him in the matter withy Mr. Bowen.  I did not understand
381
I 
THEOllORE DICTAT,ED THE NOTE.
how it was, but instead of going to Mr. Bowen with it he went
to MIr. Moulton, and that quite startled me.
Q. Did Mir. Beecher make any inmproper suggestions or request to you? A. WVhy, no, sir. It was utterly lalse. 1 have
d(,ne many things like signing that papelr.  There is a certain
power Theodore has over me, el)eciLlly if I am sick, and he
hardly ever ciame to me while I was in any other condition to
do anything, of that sort.  One or two letters I sent West will
bear witntess to that.  I wrote a letter to Mrs.     in one ten
minutes, and in the next ten minutes wrote another letter to
her with a statement contrary to that of the first. The first
was written under Mr. Tilton's influence.  After having, written it I said to myself, "Why, I have stabbed Mr. IBeecher,"
and I wrote in a second letter, "For God's sake don't listen to
what I said in the first."  I never have written a letter of my
own in regard to this matter, except one very small letter in
which I desire to confess.  It was with regard to my mother.
In that letter I gave her a very cruel stab.  I wrote that, but
the others are entirely of Mr. Tilton's concocting.
Mrs. Tilton admitted that she copied a note containing the
words, " Mr. Beecher desired me to be his wife with all that
it implies," which note was to be shown to Dr. Storrs.  She at
first refused, but he said he needed it because it would be a
great deal better than anything hle could write, and it was not
anything after all.  She replied, " It is not true, and what will
Mr. Beecher say?" Frank Carpenter was present, but could
not hear, as they spoke low.  Mr. Tilton told her he had but
fifteen minutes, and she sat down and wrote the note.  It is
absolutely false, but she wanted to make a strong statement.
She thought it wickedly wrong, as it was. Tlhere was trouble,
and she thoucght it would in some way serve Theodore and
bring peace.  Hle had said the whole affair was some scheme to
get out of the Woodhull trouble.
Mrs. Tilton then related how, the week after the council of
churches was called, she, wvithlout consulting Theodore, went
to Dr. Storrs and told him that the letter was false; that she
was not the author nor had she composed it in any way, and
Dr. Storrs said he wished he had known it, for on that letter
alone he had believed Beecher a wicked man.  IIe asked( her if
she knew of the great sin she had done.  She replied, she realized she had freqtuentl: done such things as that. She ha(d
no opportunity of explaining the circumstances, as the doctor
was in a harry and'referred her to his wife.
0
382 
IT WAS NOT HER LETTER. -
Mrs. Tilton was asked if she ever saw the letter apparently
from Beecher to herself dated February 7th, 1871.  She replied
never, until she saw it printed in Tilton's statement.
Q. Did vou ever hear about it?
A. I was never willing to have anything to do with Moulton
Mr. Tilton wanted her to treat Moulton as a mediator, but she
would have nothing to do with a third party.  She would be
trusted as hitherto, and if Mr. Beecher or any one else had
anything to say to her, it shlould( not come through AMoulton.
Pal)ers came to her through him, and she would not look at
themi.  Mloulton one day insisted on reading to her what he
called a very important letter which she refused to receive, and
it went in one ear and out the other, so she remembered nothing of it except that it urged her to treat Moulton as a confidant on some common ground, against wvhichl she rebelled.
Q. Do you recollect a letter beginning, "M.y dear husband,
I desire to leave with you, before going to bed, a statement that
Mr. Henry Ward Beecher called upon  me  this evening and
asked me if I would defend him against any accusation in a
council of ministers," and ending, "Affectionately, Elizabeth?"
A. Yes, sir; but that is not my letter.
Q. How was it written?  A. In the same way as those which
I lhave already explained.  I have no other explanatioii for any
of them that were written in bed.  Mr. Tilton wrote it first,
and I sat on my sick bed and copied it.
Mr. Clevelan(d-Is that true of all the letters that have that
signature?  A. Yes, sir; so far as my authorship of them is
concerned.
Mir. Winslow-Was he excited?  A.  He was always  very
much excited about his own public difficulties.
Q. Had he been out that evening?  A. Yes; he had been to
Frank Moulton's.
Mr. Hill-What time did he get home?  A. My nurse had
gone to bed and he found me in l)bed.  I was very sick and my
nurses were greatly disturbed.
Q. When he first came in, what did he say? A. I do not
remember.
Mr. Winslovw-What led you to this act?  A. Ilis bringing me pen and ink and paper. He had the letter atlrea(ldy
written.
Mr. Hill —Vhat did he say about it?  A. Really I positively
tell you I cannot remember.   pelt often at that time utterly
despairing and miserable, and it mattered  but little what
I did.
383 
SSIJE NEVER TOLD MRS. ANTHONY.
Q. Was it vlwhen you were sick from a miscarriage?
Yes.
Q. Do you recollect MIr. Beecher calling that evening?  A.
Yes.
Q. When?  A. But a few hours before I wrote that letter.
Q. Can you remember that interview with Mr. Beecther?
A. It was a very similar one to the other.  I was lhalf unco)lscioins and was very ill-prepared to see citlher of them. My
room was all darkened, and the nurse had gone to hlers.  Slie
opened the door and said that Mr. 13ecclher wanted to see me.
I cert.linly do not know what to tell you about that either.
Q. Do you remember writing some paper for Mr. Beeclier?
A. Yes.
Q. Can yout recall the contents of that paper?  A. No, I
cannot.  I think it was to do something for him because Theod,,re had(l dolle something against him.
Q. Is it true that he said anything to you about a council of
ministers? A. 1 do not remember everythling about ti. I have
tried very hard, dear friends, to get into mind tlhose scenIes, but
they have utterly gone out of my brain.  Witness never told
.Irs. Anthony she had committed adultery or done wrong with
iMr. Beechler, or anything to that effect.
Q. Did you ever tell any human being that you had(l been
guilty of wrong doing with Mr. Beecher?  A. I never voluntarily did so.  Once my husband took me in Mrs.'s carriage to the house of a lady to whom he lhad(l beeni telling stories
about me and Mir. Beecher.  I went against mny will, and whllen
we got there he said,  "I have br)uylht El'ztbethl herself to speak
whether I have slandered her," and I (lid not deny lIimi.  It
was the same tlhing as when I copied and signed letters which
Theodore has prepared, and I am reminded of this.  I do nlot
know whethier it was treachery, but many times he has said,
"You have gone to Dr. Storrs and( now he knows you are
guilty."  Hle found out that I had been to Dr. Storrs, and he
was very angry.
Witness here recounted the scene at her house lwhen Susan
B. Anthony was present, much a's heretofore published, except
tlat she told Miss Anthonry that Tilton accused her of adultery
with Beecher, not that she had committed it.  She tol(l Miss
Anthony that Tilton had charged her with infidelity with one
and another, and that when hle sat as his table many times be
had said that he did nl know who his children belonged to.
She had spoken of it to another person besides Miss Aitholiny
la S4
A. 
TIL TON O'0 MR. SAGE.'
when she was aroused by Mrs. Woodhull's presence a- her house,
and by a visit from two of Mrs. Woodliull's sisters, whom she
called the police to take away, but she had told these persons
nothing more than what unjust accusations had been put upon
her by her husband.
The  committee  had made strenuous  efforts to induce Mr.
Tilton to present to them  the documents in the case, but he
had not done so.  "Our  mutual friend  Moulton" returned
home  the night before the publication of Mrs. Tilton's crossexamination, and it will be seen finally consented to appear before the committee.   Mr. Tilton gives the following as his reasons for, at this stage of the case, ignoring the committee and
beginning an action against Beecherfor damages.   Oni  Augutst
3d hie wrote to the chairman of the committee, Mr. Sage:  MY DEAR SIR:-I have just received your note of July 31st, four days
after date.  Unless you accidentally inisdated it, the communication should
have come to me several days ago.  This leads me to recall a similar
dilatoriness of the delivery of your original note first summoning me to
your committee, which I received only four hours before I was to appear,
and yet the summons bore the date of the day previous.  But let these
trifles pass.  Your note just received surprises me by its contents, for you
seem to have forgotten tihat on the last (lay of my appearance l)before your
committee, I carried to your meeting not only all the documents which I
quoted in my sworn statement (slve those in Mr. Moultonl's possession)
but many more besides, imaking a double handful of interesting and iniportanit papers, vital to my case and destructive to yours.  All these papers I
proposed to lay before you, but no sooner had I begun to read them aloud
in your presence than one of your attorneys stopped Dle in the reading
and proposed that I should save the committee time by referring these
papers to one of your members-the Hon. John Winslow, I acquiesced in
this question and retired from your committee with the expectation of a
speedy conference with Mr. Winslow. Perhaps it was nmy proper duty to
have called on Mr. Winslow, but as the whole committee hlad previously
set the example of calling in a body on one of the other parties to this
controversy, I took it for granted that Mr. Winslow would repeat the
precedent by doing me the honor to call at my liuse, at wlichl lie would
have been a welcome guest.  But while waiting for his coming I was
called upon instead by a policceman,wvlo arrested me and carried me, at
thirty minutes' notice before Justice Riley's police court to answer the
charge of libelling the Rev. henry Ward Beeclier, against whom I hlad
17
385
6 
HE BI)DS THE COMXITTEE FIZ~, II,VELL.
spoken not a libel, but the truth. Up to the time of this arrest I had
employed no lawyer, not needing any, but on finding myself.before a police
court and not understanding the motive of my arrest, nor the methods of
courts, I requested my friend Judge S. D. Morris to answer for me in a
technical proceeding in which I knew not how to answer properly for
myself. Twice already I have been before this unexpected tribunal and
may be called before it a third time Wednesday next.  Meanwhile my
counsel, to whom I have just shown your note, instructs me to lay no
documents, papers, or remaining testimony before your committee, nor
have further communication with you in any form, except to send you this
present and final letter containing the reasons for this step. The reasons
are as follows:   First.  You are a committee of Mr. Beecher's friends, appointed by
himself; expected to act in his behalf; assisted by attorneys employed
exclusively for his vindication; holding secret sessions inaccessible to the
public; having no power to compel witnesses; having no opportunity for
thile opposite side to cross-examine such as voluntarily appear, publishing
or suppressing their testimony as you see fit, and, so far as my own
experience goes, asking no questions save such as were irrelevant to the
case and omitting to publish in your imperfect and unjust report of my
testimony all that was most pertinent to my own side of the controversy.
Second. The daily papers of Brooklyn and New York hlave been artfully fed day by day with crumbs of fictitious evidence against my own
character, as if, not Mr. Beecher, but I alone, were the man on trial, and
though I have little right, perhaps, to hold your committee responsible for
this daily misrepresentation which may come through the malice of others,
yet the result is the same to me as if you had deliberately designated it,
and that result is this, namely: I expect no justice either from your tribunal, since you cannot compel witnesses to testify, nor from your reporters,
since they do not give impartial reports.
Third. I cannot resist the conviction (though I mean ho olffence in
expressing it) that your committee has come at last to be as little satisfactory to the public as to myself, and that your verdict (if you render one)
could not possibly be based upon the full facts, since you have no
power to compel witnesses, nor to verify their testimony by oath, nor to
sift it by cross-examination.
For these reasons, which ought to have moved me earlier, I have at
last instructed my counsel to procceed at once at his discretion to carry my
case from your jurisdiction to a court of law, and in view of this instruction
from me he has in turn instructeine to hold no further communication with
your committee except this present letter of courtesy, in which I have the
386
t 
HEADS OF DIFFICULTY.       -
honor to bid you farewell; in doing which allow me to add that the respect
which I am unable to entertain for your committee as a tribunal, I cannot
help expressing for you each and all as individuals.
Truly yours,
THEODORE TILTON.
To go back a stage in the narrative we will embody the
following correspondence.   On July 24th, Mr. Beecher wrote:
MY DEAR MR. MOULTON:-I am making out a statement and I need
the letters and papers in your hands. Will you send me by Tracy all the
originals of my papers.  Let them be numbered and an inventory taken,
and I will return them to you as soon as I can see and compare, get dates,
make extracts or copies, as the case may be.
Will you also send me Bowen's "Heads of Difficulty," and all letters of
my sister if any are with you.
I heard you were sick-are you about again? God grant you to see
peaceful times.                    Yours gratefully,
F. D. JMoulton.                                      H. W. BEEcHER.
Still there was no response, and on July 28th, Mr. Beecher
wrote:
MY DEAR FRIEND:-The Committee of Investigation are waiting mainly
for you before closing their labors. I, too, earnestly wish that you would
come, and clear your mind and memory of everything that can bear on the
case. I pray you also to bring all letters and papers relating to it, which
will throw light upon it, and bring to a result this protracted case.
I trust that Mrs. M. has been reinvigorated, and that her need of your
care will not be so great as to detain you.
Truly yours,              H. W. Beecher.
F. D. Moulton. Esq.
Mr. Moulton had in the meantime visited his counsel, General Butler, at Gloucester, Massachusetts, and on returning
h    o    m    e    responded:
.BROOKLYN, August, 4th, 1874.
MY DEAR MR. BEECHER:-I received your note of July 24th informing
me that you are making a statement and need the letters and papers in my
hands, and asking me to send them to you for the purpose of having
extracts or copies made from them as the case may be, that you may use
them in your controversy with Mr. Tilton.
I should be very glad to do anythig that I may do, consistent with my
sense of justice and right, to aid you; but if you will reflect that I hold all
387 
MOUL TON STAI~DS ON HIS HONOR.
the important papers intrusted to me at the desire and request in the confidence of both parties to this unhappy affair, you will see that I cannot in
honor give them or any of them to either party to aid him as against the
other. I have not given or shown to Mr. Tilton any documents or papers
relating to your affair, since the renewal of your controversy which had
been once adjusted. 
I need not tell you how deeply I regret your position as foes to each
other after my long and as you, I have no doubt, fully believe, honest anal
faithful effort to have you otherwise.
I will sacredly hold all the papers and information I have until both
parties shall request me to make them public, or to deliver them into the
hands of either or both, or to lay them before the Cominittee, or I am
compelled in a court of justice to produce them, if I can be so compelled.
My regret that I am compelled to this course is softened by belief that
you will not be substantially injured by it in this regard, for all the facts
are, of course, known to you, and I am bound to believe and assume that,
in the statement you are preparing, you will only set forth the exact facts;
and, if so, the documents, when produced, will only confirm, and cannot
contradict, what you may state, so that you will suffer no loss.
If, on the contrary-Mwhich I cannot presume-you desire the possession
of the documents in order that you may prove your statement in a manner not to be contravened by the facts set forth in them, to the disadvantage of Mr. Tilton, I should be then aiding you in doing that which I can
not believe the strictest and firmest friendship for you calls upon me to do.
With grateful recollections of your kind confidence and trust in me, I am
very truly yours,                                        F. D. MOULTON.
Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, Brooklyn, N.Y.
This letter evidently caused iMr. Beecher to lose faith in his
"    d ear                friend" Moulton f or on the same  day he wrote to Mr.
MIoulton                    thus: -
BROOKLYN, August 4th, 1874.
F. D' Moulton Esq.:
SIR-Your letter, bearing date August 4th, 1874, is this moment received
Allow me to express my regret and astonishment that you refuse me permission even to see certain letters and papers, in your possession, relating
to charges made against me by Theodore Tilton, and at the reasons given
for the refusal.
On your solemn and repeated assurances of personal friendship, and in
the unquestioning confidence with which you inspired me of your honor
and fidelity, I placed in yor hands for safe keeping various letters
addressed to me fronm my brother, my sister and various other parties;
388 
A SHARP LETTER.
also memoranda of affairs not immediately connected with Mr. Tilton's
matters. I also from time to time ad tressed you confidential notes relaing to my own self, as one friend would write to another.  These papers
were never placed in your hands to be held for two parties, nor to be used
in any way. They were to be held for me. I did not wish them to be
subject to risk of loss or scattering, from my'careless habit in the matter of
preserving documents. They were to be held for me. In so far as these
papers were concerned, you were only a friendly trustee, holding papers
subject to my wishes.
Mr. Tilton has made a deadly assault on me, and has used letters and
fragments of letters, purporting to be copies of these papers. Are these
extracts genuine? Are they garbled? What are their dates? What, if
anything, has been left out, and what put in?
You refuse my demand for these papers on the various pleas, that if I
speak the truth in my statement I do not need them, that if I make a successful use of them it will be an injury to Mr. Tilton, and that you, as a
friend of both parties, are bound not to aid either in any act that shall
injure the other.
But when I demand a sight of the originals of papers of which you are
only a trustee, that I may defend myself, you refuse, because you are the
friend of both parties! sir. Tilton has access to your depository for
materials with which to strike me, but I am not permitted to use them in
defending myself.
I do not ask you to place before the Committee any papers which Mr.
Tilton may have given you. But I do demand that you forthwith place
before the Committee every paper which I have written or deposited with
you.                                    Truly yours,
H. W. BEECHER.
Mr. Mloulton's answer was very decidec:
No. 49 REMSEN STREET, BROOKLYN, August 5th, 1874.
Rev. IIenry Ward Beecher:
MNY DEAR SiR-In all our acquaintance and friendship I have never
received from you a letter of the tone of yours of August 4thl. It seems
unlike yourself, and to have been inspired by the same ill advisers who had so
lamentably carried your private affairs before a committee of your church
and thence before the public.
In reply let me remind you that during the whole of the past four years
all the documents, notes, and memoranda which you and Mr. Tilton have
intrusted to me have been so intrusted because they had a reference to
your mutual differences.  I hold 1  papers, either of yours or his, except
such as bear on this case.- You speak of "memoranda of affairs not
6
389 
A TART REPLY. 
immediately connected with the Tilton matter." You probably allude here
to a memoranda of your difficulties with Mr. Bowen, but these have a
direct reference to your present case with Mr. Tilton, and were deposited
with me by you because of such reference.   You speak also of a letter or
two from your brother and sister, and I am sure you hlave not forgotten
the apprehension which we entertainer lest Mirs. hooker should fulfill a
design uwhich she foreshadowed, to invade your pulpit, and read to your
congregation a confession of youtr intimacy with Mrs. Tilton.
You speak of other papers, which  I hold "subject to your wishes,"  I
hold none such, nor do I hold any subject to Mr. Tilton's wishes. The
papers which I hold, both yours and his, were not given to be subject to
the wishes of either of the parties. But the very object of my holding
them has been, and still is, to prevent the wish of one party being
injuriously exercised against the other.
You are incorrect in saying that Mr. Tilton has had access to my
"depository of materials;" on the contrary, I have refused Mr. Tilton
such access. During the preparation of his sworn statement hlie came to
me and said his case would be incomplete unless I permitted him to use all
the documents, but I refused; and all hlie could rely upon were such notes
as he had made from timle to time from writings of yours which you had
written to me to be read to him, and passages of which hle caught from my
lips in shorthand. Mr. Tilton has seen only a part of the papers in my
possession, and would be more surprised to learn the entire facts of the
case than you can possibly be.
What idle rumors may have existed in newspaper offices I know not,
but they have not come from me.  In closing your letter you say: "I do
not ask you to place before the Committee any papers which Mr. Tilton
may have given you; but I do demand that you forthwith place before the
Committee every paper which I have written or deposited with you." In
reply, I can only say that I cannot justly place before the Committee the
papers of one of the parties without doing the same with the papers of the
other, and I cannot do this honorably except either by legal process compelling me, or else by consent in writing, not only of yourself, but of Mr.
Tilton, with whom I shall confer on the subject as speedily as possible.
You will I trust, see a greater spirit of justice in this reply than you have
infused into your unusual letter of August 4th.
Very respectfully,
FRANCIS D. MAOULTON.
While this correspondewe was being conducted Mr. Moulton
was seeking by correspondence with Mir. Tilton, a way out of
390
f, 
TILTON CONSENTS TO EXHIBITING LETTERS.  391
the difficulty which was successful, as will be seen by the correspondence below:
BROOKLYN, August, 5th, 1874.
TI/eodore Tilton Esq:
MY DI,AR SIR-I have received under Ate of July 25th, a letter from
the Rev. Heniy Ward Beecher, in which he expresses the wish that I
would go before the Investigating Committee and "clear my mind and
memory of everything that can bear on this case "-referring, of course,
to the controversy between you and him.
I cannot, in view of my confidential relations with you, make any statement before the Investigating Committee, unless you release me, as Mr.
Beecher has done, explicitly from my obligation to maintain your confidence.
If you will express to me clearly a request that I should go before the
Investigating Committee and state any and all facts within my knowledge
concerning your case with Mir. Beecher, and exhibit to them any or all
documents in my possession relating thereto, I shall, in view of Mr.
Beecher's letter, consider myseif at liberty to accede to the request of the
Committee, to state such facts and exhibit such documents.
Very respectfully,
FRANCIS D. MOULTON.
BROOKILYN, August, 5thl, 1874.
Francis -D. Moulton Esq.:
MY DEAR SIR-In response to your note of this day mentioning Mr.
Beecher's request that you should exhibit to the Committee the fiacts and
documents hitherto held in confidence by you touching his difference with
me, I hereby give you notice that you have my own consent and request
to do the same.                        Truly yours,
THEODORE TILTON.
Having thus secured the consent of both parties to the controversy to appear before the Committee with all the documents, I        r. Moulton    addressed the Committee thus:
3IOULTON'S REPLY.
GENTLEM.EN. OF THE COMI.I,TTEE:-I have received your invitation to
appear before you. I have been ready, on any proper occasion, to disclose all the facts and documents known to me or in my possession relating to the subject matter of your inquiry,  but I have found myself
embarrassed because of my peculij  relations to the parties to the controversy.  Friendly for yearsto all of them, and at the time of the outbreak
of this miserable business having the kindest feeling toward each, I
0 
NO UL TON CONSErTS TO U_NLOAD.
endeavored to avert the calamity that has now fallen upon all. Most fully
and confidentially trusted by all parties, it became necessary that I should
know the exact and simple truth of every fact and circumstance of the
controversy, as I was made by mutual consent in some sort the arbiter of
thile affair, and, after, the estrangement, the medium of communication
between the parties, each saying in meriting to me such things as were
desired to be said or written to the others; and in such case I gave the
information or showed the communication to the person intended to
receive or be affected by it. Under these circumstances I have not felt at
liberty to give testimony or facts thus obtained in the sacredness of
confidence before a tribunal not authorized by law to require them, however much otherwise I might respect its members and objects, without tlhe
consent of the parties from whom I received the disclosures and documents.
WVith the consent or request of Mr. Beecher or Mr. Tilton. I have held
myself ready, sorrowingly, to give all the facts, that I know about the
objects of inquiry of the Committee, and produce whatever papers I hlave
to the Committee, and leave copies of the same with them, if they desired
it, with perhaps the one stipulation, that if I have to give my evidence
orally or be cross-examined,  I might bring with me  a phonographic
reporter, in order that I should have an exact copy of my testimony, for
my own protection.
I am to-day in receipt, from I-Tenry Ward Beecher and Theodore Tilton,
of their consent and request, thus absolving  me thereby from my confidential relations towards them, to appear before you, and to give you the
facts and documents with reference to the difference between them.
It appears to me that, as MIr. Tilton has given his evidence, and Mrs.
Tilton likewise, Mr. Beecher should be requested to add his own, in o(rder
that the three principal parties in the case shall have been independently
heard on their own responsibility before I am called to adduce the facts in
my possession derived from them all.
Nevertheless, since I am  ilow fully released from my confidential
relations with the parties involved in this sad affair, and since my only
proper statement must consist of the truth, the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth, I see no special reason why it may not be made at one time
as well ias at another; but as my statement will necessarily include a great
multiplicity of faicts and papers, I must ask a little delay to arrange and
copy them.  Accordingly, I suggest Saturday evening, August  8tl, as
an evening convenient for me to lay my statement before the Comimittee.
Yours truly,
FRANCIS D. MOULTON.
BROOLY, August t, 1874.
~BROOKLYN, August 5t]b, 1874.
392
a 
THEODORE S lINSANITY.'
DuLring the remainder of the week there were no important
revelations beyondcl an attempt made by the Brooklyn Eagle
to establish the insanity of Mr. Tilton, in the interest of
Mr. Beecher, and a counter attempt on behalf of the friends of
Mr. Tilton to impeach the damaging charges made by his wife.
In support of the theory of Theodore's insanity the Eagle published alleged facts in connection with Tilton's family showing
a tendency to insanity; but these publications were accepted
by the public as an effort on the part of some of Mr. Beechlier's
ill-advised friends to direct attention from the real issue to matters entirely foreign to the inquiry. The other parties however
were more successful, for a part of Mrs. Tilton's statements was
most effectually impeached by a card from Rev. Dr. Storrs, a
letter from Mr. Carpenter, and by the statements of Mrs.
Woodhull, who clearly showed that the charge made by Mrs.
Tilton that she had called the police to expel Mrs. W. from her
house was false. The testimony of the latter, however, would
not be accepted, were it not that Dr. Storrs' card clearly impeachlied her on other points, and public opinion reasoned that
if this unfortunate lady would misrepresent in one matter slhe
would in others, or all of her statements. It was expected that
Mir. Moulton would present his statement, accompanied by all
the correspondence, on Saturday, August 8th, but the day preceding that set forth for his appearance he was requested by
the committee to defer its presentation until Monday evening,
the 10th.  In the meanwhile there had been ugly rumors in
circulation to the effect that the committee were endeavoring
to effect a compromise, and force was given to these rumors by
this action of the committee.
Dropping the thread of our narrative for the nonce, we will
speak of the excitement attending the publication of matters
connected with the scandal. No event since the assassination
of Abraham Lincoln attracted so much notice from the press.
With the exception of four qj five, the scandal found a place iii
all the leading journals of the country, and the illustrated
17*
393 
" "SCANDALS."
papers' corps of artists united with the heavy writers of the
daily press, in expressing in pictures what the editors expressed
with the pen.  Some of the cartoons were grossly indecent and
uncalled for, at least until the pastor of Plymouth Church had
been convicted. One of the most cruel was produced in the
Cincinnati Giglalpz.  It represented Mr. Beecher driven outside the walls of a city, dressed as a leper, in a flowing robe,
leaning upon a staff, the breast bare and branded with the letter
A.  Underneath the cartoon was the quotation:
"Room for the leper! room!"-and as he came,
The cry passed on, "Room for the leper, room!"
The press was the vehicle for many clever criticisms at the
expense of the parties to the scandal.  One of the most reputable of the daily journals-the Chicago Inter-Oceani-collected
and published them from time to time under the head of "Scandals." Here is a specimen:  Susan stand up and shame the devil.
It is easier for a camel to skip through the eye of a needle
than for a "nest-hider" to walk into heaven.
We  find MIr. Tilton saying at one time that his wife is as
pure as an angel; at another that she is as false as Lucifer.
The prevalent sentiment in the Southern press is that the
gunning season in Brooklyn ought to have set in long, ago.
Let us remember that neither religion, sects, nor virtue are
touched by the scandal and inltirmities involved in this Brooklyn
exposition.
Susan B. Anthony was interviewed the other day concerning
that about Beechlier. Nothing was elicited, except that Susan's
age is 55.
A "social cataclysm" is what they call it in the intellectual
department of the New York Tribune.  We should think it
was at least that, if not more.
Suppose it should turn out simply that the man found the
woman  unduly attacled to him, and cursed himself in that
way for having been the cause of such a passion?
Miss Anthony whl was present when Nathan put it to
David about Mrs. Uriah, says she cannot remember anything
394 
AFIEPR TIL TO N'S POEiV.
that has so deeply affected her since that time as the present
troubles in Brooklyn.
It is rumored that the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher has become involved in a rather awkward scrape with some woman
or other in Brooklyn.  If there is any truth in this, it is very
strange that nothing is said about it ini thc newspapers.
"Is there nothing," exclaims a Brooklyn Journal, "to redeem
Plymouth Churci from this body of death?"  Unless the ca.e
will yield to the marvelous inifluence of liembold's buchu. it
may be regarded as hopeless.
See here, where is George Francis Train? This is the first
fight that he hasn't taken a hand in, and he hasn't fired a single
pistol shot at the air or made a single speech. Come to the
front, George, and wake snakes. Speak for Ireland, for Woodhull, the devil, or anybody. Otherwise there is a good chance
for an unprofitable sleep.
That all may know the doubted foot
That wears the dirty sandal,
Investigation boldly lit
Investigation's candle.
And now it's groping for the nit
That hatched the Plymouth scandal.
And soon a curious world may get
The secret by the handle.
The newspaper offices were flooded with poems on the subject, which usually found a harbor in the waste baskets.  One,
however, we will give as it is after Mr. Tilton's poem "Sir,
Marmaduke's/ Musings:
SIR SINBAD'S ADVICE.
"Cling not to earth, there's nothing tliere,
However loved, however fair,
But on its features still shall wear
The inipress of mortality.
The voyager on the stormy deep,
Within his barque may smile and sleepBut bear him on,lie will not weep
To lea,ve its wild uncertainty.
395 
"SIR SINBAD'S AD VICE."
Trust not to wealth-as well you may
Trust Asia's serpent's glittering play,
That dazzles only to betray
To death, or else to misery.
Trust not to Friendship-there may be
A     word, a smile, a grasp for thee,
But wait the hour of need and see    Nor wonder at its falsity.
Trust not to woman-she can smile,
And raise the d-l all the while:
Or, like'Vic. Woodhull,' can beguile
With' Free Love's new philosophy.'
Trust not to beauty! Like the rest,
She wears a lustre on her crestBut short the hour, ere stands confest:
Her falsehood or her frailty!
Trust not to Fame! Her laurels wilt!
Watered by burning tears of guilt,
The Temple-altar Fame hath built,
In shattered ruin soon may lie!
Ohl! trust to nothing here below,
In all this world of Sin and Woe;
And pray that women ne'er may know
'Vic. Woodhull's' nice morality.
Why bend your noble head in shame,
' Sir Marmaduke' of lofty name.
What cares the world foi, you, or fame;
It won't believe in T-'uth to-day!
O! cling not then, so fondly on
The flowers of earth around thee strewnVic. says: they'll do to sport upon,
But never to love fervently." j,
0
396
0 
CHAPTER XVI.
HISTORY OF PLYMOUTH CHURCH-PARTICULARS OF ITS EARLY OR  GANIZATION —SOME STATISTICS OF ITS INCOME-E\CITING EVENTS
CONNECTED WITg MR. BEECHER'S PASTORATE, AND THE DISTIN  GUISHED PERSONS WHO HAVE APPEARED IN THE EDIFICE.
N-O work of this character would be complete that omitted a sketch of
this Church, which has recently become so famous, and hence this
chapter will be devoted to the Church, and some of the exciting incidents
connected with it.  The ground on which the present buildings of
Plymouth Church stand comprises seven lots, 88 feet by 200 feet, and
extends from Orange street to Cranberry street, forming a part of what
is known to old Brooklynites as the "Hicks estate," the property at one
time having belonged to John and Jacob M. Hicks, representatives of one
of tile oldest and wealthiest families of Brooklyn, Hicks street having
been named after the family. In 1823 the First Presbyterian Church
purchased the property of the Hickses, and erected thereon a church
edifice, fifty-six by seventy feet, fronting on Cranberry street. At that
period the little village of Brooklyn possessed a population of less than
one thousand people, and the erection of a church on what was regarded
and known as farm property, and in the midst of green fields, where
cattle were wont to browse, was looked upon with feelings of doubt and
distrust.  But, notwithstanding the prophecies of a few timid members
of the congregation, the society waxed strong and grew in grace and
wisdom until the dimensions of the church edifice became so contracted
that an addition of eighteen feet to the building could no longer be
delayed. Accordingly, in 1831, a lecture room, including Sunday school
rooms and a pastor's study, thirty six feet by seventy-two feet, were
added to the already prosperous little church.
Rev. Joseph Sanford was called to assume pastoral charge of the new
congregation, and continued in that capacity from 1823 to 1829, a period
of five years, when he was superseded by the Rev. Daniel L. Carroll,D.D.,
who was succeeded in turn in 1837 by the Rev. Samuel H. Cox, D.D., a
name familiar to old church goers of this city.  The Rev. Dr. Cox continued in charge of the congregation even after the society had removed,
in 1847, to their new (-hurch edifice on Henry street, near Clark.
Among all these churches, and in a city with a population of 60,000
souls, there was but one Congregaional Church (the Rev. R. M. Storrs,
Jr., Church of the Pilgrims). Thle necessity for an additional Congrega.
tional Church w'as therefore felt and demanded. Accordingly Messrs.
397
e 
OR GAlIZA TIO~ O F PL YA[o lT.
John T. Howard, Henry C. Bowen, and Seth B. Hunt, of the Church of
the Pilgrims, and Mr. David Hale, of the Broadway Tabernacle, held a
consultation with a view to establishing a new Congregational Church.
And inastmuch as the congregation of the Rev. Dr. Cox, known  as the
First Presbyterian Church, were about removing to their new edifice on
Henry street; near Clark, the property,wllich they had heretofore occupied
on Cranberry street was offered for sale at $'5 000.  The locality and
purchase money asked for tile Cranberry street churcl[ property seemed
to impress the foregoing gentlemen as a favorable spot f)r tile establisilment of a new church organization, and after due deliberation Mr.
Howard was authorized, on l)ehalf of the committee, to purchase the
property on the following terms: —'0,030; $9,500 payable in cash, and
the residue, $10,500, to remain on mortgage.  In June, 1846, the sale was
consummate], and, according to the manual of Plymouthl Church, Messrs.
Charles Rowland,  David Hall, Jira Payne, David Griffin, Henry C.
Bowen, and John T. HI)ward held a meeting on Saturday evening, May
9th, 1817, at the residence of Henry C. Bowen, having for its object the
formation and estab!ishment of a new Congregational Church in Brooklyn:-"The meeting was opened by prayer, after which David Hale
made some statements in relation to the property now held by the Plymouth Church, and then, in behalf of himself and the other owners,
offered the use of said property for purposes of religious worship as soon
as the premises should be vacated by the First Presbyterian Church."
Whereupon it was
Resolved, That religlous services shall be commenced, by Divine permission, on
Sunday, the 16th day of May, that being the first Sabbath after the house was to be
vacated.
Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, at that time pastor of the Second Presbyterian Churclh, of Indianapolis, Ind,, and a young man, tlhirty four years
old, happened to be in the city, having, through  the influence of Mr.
Williamn P. Cutter, of New York, an intimate friend of the rising young
Congregational preacher, been invited to deliver an address before the
American Home Missionary Society in May, 1817.  Mr. Beecher accepted
the invitation, but for some reason delivered the address before the
Foreign Missionary Society, instead of the society to wilicli he was originally invited to speak. S:)me of the members of tlhe new Congregational
Church heard Mr. Beecher's eff )rt, and were so welt pleased, that he was
invited to preach the opening sermon of the Cranberry street Congrega.
tional Church.
The pew rents for such years as records have been kept were as follows:
1860....$28, 682
1851....    28,753
1862....       18, 1..0
18S3....   283,'369.
18at....     31,Ot)0            1
1355....         39,. -42
1b13....  42,782
Out of the pew rents of the last five years alone the sum of $78,950 has
been applied to strictly missn  purposes, exclusive of all expenditure
upon tile church or its qwn Sunday school.
The collections of the church for benevolent objects of all kinds (ex
e
398
1853....$11,157
185tL....  11,729
18,5....  12.05.3
185ti....    1-2.595
1857....  14.:X10
185,8....   16.3S0)
185'9...          25,05~
lS67.... $49,000
185s....  58,335
1869....  54,970
1870....         54b,840
1871....   56;,714
1872. *.. 60,;318
1873.... 59,114 
CONT0JB UTIONS.
clusive of pew rents, but including contributions in the schools), so far as
any records remain, have been as follows:
*.. $ 5.148
...       6,340
...    9,581         I
....11.930.
... IS.10
no  reco.'d.
...   11,14 
...  14,572,
These figures do not include any contributions not taken under the
immediate supervision of officers of the church or society, and represent
only a very small part of the donations of the congregoation.  Recently,
an effiort was made to ascertain tile contributions of members outside of
the church collections; and it was found that over $300,000 had been
given in one year, for charitable purposes, by the public subscriptions of
a small portion of the members.  Co)ncerning the private charities of
these members, and the general donations of all the rest of the church,
no trustworthy estimate can be made.
The officers of the church, at the present time, are as follows: —
Pastor-Henry Ward Beecher, installed November 11, 1847.
Pastoral Helper-Samuel B. Halliday.
Clerk of the Church-TI)os. G. Shearman.
Treasurer-Stephen V.,White.
Deacons-Johin T. H )war(l, Charles M. Morton, Reuben W. Ropes,
Elmer H. Garbutt, Benoni G. Carpenter. Slamuel E. B.lcher, Robert R.
Raymnond, John B. Hutchinson, Henry W. Sage.
Deaconesses —irs. Mary W. Halliday, Mrs. Frances L. Pratt, Mrs.
Julia P. Hawkins, Mrs. Mary L. Thalheimer, Mrs. Isabella P. Beecher,
M rs. Mary A. Fanning.
Examining Commtnnittee-Pastor, Pastoral Helper and Clerk (ex-ofi,io),
Daniel W. Talmadge(clerk), Lysander W. Manchester, Thomas J. Tllney,
George H. Day, David H. Hawkins, Henry M. Cleveland.
Music Committee-Pastor (ex-offcio), Rossiter W. Raymond, John A.
Fowle, Wallace E. Caldwell, Samuel E. Belcher, Horatio C. King, Henry
N. Whitney.
Committee on Church Work-Pastor (ex officio), George A. Bell, Elmer
H. Garbutt, Reuben W. Ropes, John T. Ho)ward, Augustus  Storrs, John
B. Hutchinson, Assistant Clerk, Daniel W. Talmadge.
Auditors-Lorin Palmer, Moses K. Moodey.
Treasurer Deacons' Fund-E. H. Carbutt.
Within the walls of this structure, rich and sacred with the memories
of famous orators, legislators, statesmen, gifted women, literateurs and
divines, has been heard the voices of the agitators of anti-slavery, when
it was almost dangerous to speak the words aloud.  The silvery-tongued
Wendell Phillips, the scholarly and eloquent Stimiler, the gifted and
erudite William Lloyd Garrison, the radical and impassioned  Gerrit
Smith, the brilliant Curtis, the statesman shloemaker henry Wilson, John
B. Gough, and scores of the greatest and ablest expounders of antislavery have given utterance to their views, and made the grand old
edifice fairly ring with their eloqudce and the magnetism withl which
they pronounced their convictions.  It is here that Chapin, with glowing(
imagery and majestic and  elegant English, has spoken  "Woman's
f
399
1850
181-It
1852
1853
1 S.
1855
1856
1857
..  $1,8-,3
.. 2.8(;3
..           1,815
.. 4.3.'39
..           5,116
..    6,088
no record.
.. 6.'306
I
18.').9
185!)
18fi3
is'lit
ls;2
18fi3
1861
1865
1866
1,1,67
ls(;8
1869
18-,O
18-11
1872
1873
. $W,742
. 18,564
. 39,712
, 11,520
. 18,)3i
. 27,033
. 19.7i8
. 33,221 
ADELINA PATTI.'
VWork" and the "Roll of Honor."  Here Mrs. Livermore, Elizabeth Cady
Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone, Julia Ward Howe, Mrs. Tracy
Cutler (the Western female lawyer), Lucy Harper, Henry B. Blackwell
and Colonel T. W. Higginson, have explained and expoundedl the nature
of their peculiar views, generally preceded by the late David Coombes,
dressed in revolutionary costume, who taking his stand in front of the
plattform, would proceed to unroll sundry mathematical problems, prov ing beyond adoubt his claims on certain Ifamilies, to whom ho had loaned
money some thirty years ago, until he was ejected from thile building, in
sp)ite of withering glances which he cast at the disturber of liiat lihe
called "free speech." Here it was that the world-famed Casta Diva,
Adelina Patti, sang her sweetest notes, in "Moses in Egypt," and thrilled
the hearts of thousands by her rendition of the "Last Rose of Summter."
Here Parepa has filled the building with her melody, and moved her
audience to tears. Here Theodore Thomas and his orchestra have performed the inspired oratorios, symphonies and sonatas of Handel, Beethoven, Mozart and Gluck. Here poor Harry Sanderson, Mills and Rubenstein "the great," have made the piano speak, and Ole Bull has evoked,
by the aid of his magical bow, the poetry of sound. Charles Dickens, in
the winter or 1867, told of "Tiny Tim," "Bob Crachlit," "Boots at the
Holly Tree Inn," and' Poor Jo," and drew such crowds that carriages
lined both sides of the street for blocks, while many encamped outside of
the church on the previous night of the reading, by the light of bonfires,
in order that they might secure seats.  Here the famous Plymouth Organ
concerts have been held on Saturday afternoons, and the great church
organ (the largest, with one exception, in America) has pealed forth on
Sunday mornings and evenings, its tidings of great joy. Here the Prince
of Wales, and Presidents Lincoln and Grant have attended Divine service.
It is here that Congregational singing is heard at the best, and, perhaps,
in the history of no church has it been carried to such a high state of perfection. The visitor to Plymouth for the first time will probably never
forget the inspiration incited by the vast assemblage rising, and literally
singing with all their heart and soul, "The Shining Shore," "Jesus,
Lover of My Soul," or "Homeward Bound."
Probably no church in the United States has experienced so many
anxious, exciting and memorable Sunday services as has Plymouth.  It
was on Sunday evening, June 8, 1856, that the services were of a peculiar
exciting nature, it having been reported by the New York papers of that
day that a gang of New York roughs expected to visit tllhe church in tilhe
evening and create a general disturbance. The Mayor of Brooklyn and
the Chief of Police were notified, and a large posse of police were detailed
in citizens' dress to watch the evening services, while a number of the
regular attendants of the church armed themselves with revolvers, and
prepared to give the ruffians a good warm Congregational reception in
case they should attempt to demolish the church building or disperse the
congregation.  As the hour for the evening service drew nicgh, crowds
and gangs of roucgllookingr men from the worst localities of New York
and Brooklyn formed in front of Musical Hall, at Fulton and Orange
streets, and on adjacent corners, and when the church was opened, a
number of tlhem walked in, lit behaved with great decorum when they
observed the immense crowl in attendance.  After remaining awhile
they passed out, mutteling as they did so a few ill-chosen remarks about
400 
ROSE WARD.
"damned abolitionists and negro worshippers."  Finally, as the audience
were listening with almost breathless attention to Mr. Beecher, something struck one of the windows to the east of the pulpit, rattled against
the glass, causing considerable excitement among the ladies and other
persons present who sat near the windows, and then dropped on the
window sill.  For a few minutes the excitement was intense, but after a
time quiet was restored, and the equanimity bf the congregation regained.
It was subsequently discovered that the object thrown ag(ainst the window
was a bullet, evidently used by some mischievous personl with a view of
creating a sensation, or for the purpose of raising a prodigious excitement in the neigiborhlood.
On Sunday morning, February 5, 1800, a little mulatto slave girl, ten
years old, and valued at $900, occupied a seat by Mir. Beecher on the
platform.  She was brought to Brooklyn from  Washington, D C., by
Rev. Bishop Falkner, then a member of Plymouth Church, but now
pastor of the Mediator Congregational Church, Rochester avenue and
Herkimer street. The reverend gentleman having obtained permission
from her master, and determining to secure her freedom if possible, lihe
introduced her to Mr. Beeclher, by whom she was presented during the
services of that memorable Sunday morning to his congregation, accoinpanied by a statement of the object in view, and a request for a liberal
contribution of money, in order that she mighlt be rescued from slavery.
The collection taken up that morning in the church, togrethler with a collection taken up for the same purpose by the Sunday school in thle afterno)n, amounted in the aggregate to $1,000.  The interest manifested by
the congregation in the morning was very great, one of the ladies in the
audience, Miss Rose Terry, a sister of Major General Terry, dropping a
gold ring in the contribution box as it passed. This ring was afterward
placed by the pastor on the finger of the little slave girl with the remark
that it was her freedomn ring. She was then named after Mr. Beecher
and MIiss Terry, Rose Ward.
On Sunday, June 1, 1861, a similar incident transpired at Plymouth
Church, when Mr. Beecher called upon his congregation to witness a
"live slave woman," and introduced a young girl about twenty years
old, named Sarahl. who had been told by her master that if she could
raise her freedom money among her white abolition friends hlie would be
willing to release her from slavery.  Accordingly, with her owner's per.
mission, she was brought North, with the promise that if the money was
not raised she would be returned.  Three hundred dollars of the freedom
money had already been collected when she was broughlt to Brooklyn.
When the announcement was made to the congregation of Plymouth
Church that the sum of $800, exclusive of jewelry, had been raised by
collection in the church, the applause that followed lasted for several
minutes.
On a Sunday in April, 1861, during the stirring and exciting period of
early rebellion days, Mr. Beecher preached a sermon to the First Lon(g
Island (infantry) Volunteers, better known as the " Brooklyn Phalanx,"
and of which one of his sons was ai officer. On the same day the congregation contributed at the conclusion of the morning services, the sum of
$3,000, to aid in equipping the regiment  for service in the field.
In the autumn of 1862, the church played its part well in providing
accommodations for the defenders of the Union, a regiment of Maine
0
401 
APRIL  24TH., 1365:
volunteers, "on its way to the front," occupying the building, and sleep
ing for two nights on its cushioned seats
On April 12, 1865, a large number of the members of Plymouth Church
and Mr. Beeclher celebrated the fourth anniversary of the surrender of
Fort Sumter, by Major Anderson, the steamer Quaker City conveying the
Plymoutlites to the fort, where Mr. Beecller delivered the address.  On
their return, while stopping at Fortfess Monroe, the excursionists were
grieved to hear that the fourteenth President of the United States,
Ablrahlam Lincoln, had suffered death at the hands of the assassin John
WVilkes Booth, and when the party reached Brooklyn it was publicly
announced that Mr. Beecher would preach a sermon on the martyred
President on the following Sunday morning, April 24, 1865. Thile ser.
vices on that memorable morning in spring will never be forgotten by
those who participated in them.  They are vividly portrayed in Harper's
Magazine, by an eye-witness, as follows:
"Presently the seats were all full. The multitude seemed to be solid
above and below, but still the newcomers tried to press in.  The platform
was fringed by the legs of those who had been so lucky as to find seats
there.  There was loud talking and scuffling, and even occasionally a
little cry at the doors.  One boy struggled desperately ior his life or
breath.  The ushlers, courteous to the last, smiled pitifuilly upon their
own eff)rts to put ten gallons into a pint pot.  As the lhour of service
approached, a siiiall door under the choir, and immedinte!y behind the
mahogany desk upon the platform opened qii, tly, and  Mr. Beelcher
entered. He stood looking at the crowd for a little time without taking
off his outer coat, then advanced to the edge of the platform and gave
some directions about seats.  He indicated with his handls that the people
should pack more closely.  The ushers evidlently pleaded for the pewholders who had not arrived; but the preacher replied that they could
not get in, the seats should be filled that the service might proceed in
silence. He turned and opened the door. Then hlie removed his coat, sat
down, and opened the hymn book, while the organ played.  The iumpatient people meantime had climbed up to the window sills from the
outside, and the great white church was like a hive, with the swarming
bees hanging in clusters upon the outside.
The service began with an invocation. It was followed by a hlymn, by
the reading of a chapter in the Bible, and a prayer.  The congregation
joined in singing, and the organ, skilfully and firmly playe(d, preventing
the la,gging which usually spoils congregational singin(r. The effict was
imposing   Thle vast volume filled the building with solid sound.  It
poured out at the open windows, and filled the still morning air of the
city with solemn melody   Far upon every side those who sait at home in
solitary chambers heard the great voice of praise.  Then amid the husll
of the vast multitude, the preacher, overpowered  by emotion, prayed
fervently for the stricken family and the bereaved nati( n. There was
more singing, before which Mr. Beecher appealed to those who were
sitting to sit closer, and for once to be incomtmoded, that some more of
the crowd might get in; and as the wind blew freshly from the open
windows, hlie reminded the audience that a handkerchief laid upon the
head would prevent the sensl,ive from taking cold.  Then, opening the
Bible, he read the story of Mo'Fes going up to Pisgah, and took the verses
for his text. The sermon was written, and he read calmly from the
402 
JOHN G. WHITTIER.
manuscript. Yet at times, rising upon the flood of feeling, he shot out a
solemn adjuration, or asserted an opinion with a fiery emphasis that
electrified the audience into applause. His action was intense, but not
dramatic, and the demeanor of the preacher was sul)dued and sorrowful.
He did not attemnpt to speak in detail of the Presid(lent's character or
career.  He drew the bold outline in a few words, and, leaving that task
to a calmer and fitter momept, spoke of tlie lessons of the hour.  Tihe
way of his death was not to be deplored; the crinme itself revealed to the
dullest the ghastly nature of slavery; it was a blow, not at the man, but
at the people and the government; it had utterly failed, and finally,
though dead, the good man yet speaketh. The discourse was brief,
fitting, forcible and tender with emotion. It was a manly sorrow and
sympathy that cast its spell upon the great audience, and it was good to
be there.
"There was another hymn, a peal of pious triumph, which poured out
of the heart of the congregation, and seemed to lift us all up, up into the
sparkling, serene, inscrutable heaven."
One of the most interesting events was the visit of New England's
Quaker poet, John G. Whittier.  The pqet had not been in Brooklyn for
many years, and being a very warm friend of the pastor, he attended the
morning services.  Mr. Beechlier noticed the poet in the audience.  This
fact was shown by the selection ot one of Mr. WIittier's hymns from the
Plymouth  Church  Collection.  And at the end of the servic(.s Mr.
Beecller sent one of the ushers to the seat occupied by the gifted strander
inviting him I forward to the platform.   With much ihesitation Mr. Whlittier reached the altar, where lihe was most warmly welcomed by Mr.
Bc,echer, who evinced his great pleasure at the honored t)resence of the
great Quaker, by presenting him with a beautiful basket of flowers. Mr.
Beecher then introduced the poet to several ladies and gentlemen, and
then, in company, followed the modest stranger to his carriage.
0
4a3
0 
CHAPTER XVII.
SOMETHIING ABOUT THE  BEECHER  FAMILY-DR. LYMAN
BEECHER-H.kRRIET BEECHER STOWE, AND, OTHER MEM  BERS OF THE FAMILY WHO IIAVE COINED REPUTATIONS
IN RELIGION AND LETTERS.
P ERHAPS in speaking of the Beechers it is safe to say that
no American family has become so distinguished in religion and letters, nor is there anywhere,at this period of American history,a family more widely known, more generally despised by some, more warmly appreciated by others, or more
universally complimented for their rare and varied talents by
others who have become accustomed to accept anything they
give utterance to, as strictly orthodox. The progenitor of the
present generation, Dr. Lyman Beecher, was in his day one of
the most gifted lights of the American pulpit-a man of original thought,whose greatest ddelight was when engaged with
the pen or voice in controversaries with rivals of the white
cravat.  Thrice married he had as issue, thirteen children,
nearly all of whom in the various walks of life adopted by
them, became more or less renowned.  All the sons are,or have
been,-iniisters,-an unusual thing for sons of a minister-and
the daughters were equally distinguished,  Every school child
has become familiar with Catharine Beecher as the authoress of
school books, and her experience as a teacher,and a writer on
domestic economy was viied, indeed.. IHarriet Beecher Stowe
won a world-wide reputation by her "Uncle Tom's Cabin" and
404
t: 
UNCLE TOM'US (ABIA.
"Dred," ant  later a great deal of criticism from her ill-timed
reference to the domestic affairs of Lord Byron. Many, many
years ago, the author received his first impressions of the horrors of the slave system from  reading Uncle Tom's Cabin,
and young as he was, he recollects distinctly that the impression of the author left upon his mind, was that of a woman
whose sympathies issued forth from a warm heart as the waters
flowed when Moses smote the rock. Another daughter is Isabella Beecher Hooker, who of late has taken an active part in
the Woman's Rights movement, and who figures more or less
conspicuously in this great, disgusting and unfortunate religious scandal. In our narrative of the great sensation of the
past five years, frequent reference is made  to this lady, who
however, it man be said, has never taken the ultra ground
upon which Mrs. Woodhull stands, although recognizing and
bearing testimony to the correctness of the ostracised and
maligned priestess of the new social revolution. Of the sons,
Henry  Ward stands pre-eminently as the ablest representa
tive and the widest known. Several of the brothers in a
more limited sphere of Christian usefulness have achieved
fame and the love of all with whom they have been brought in
coitact both within the pale of the congregations over which
they presiue and among the worldly minded who have learned
to admire them for their generous qualities of mind and heart.
Dr. Edward Beecher for many years located at Galesburg, Illinois, was recognized as the peer of the clergy of that State.
He was the author of a number of radical theological works
that encountered severe criticism, chief among which, perhaps, may be classed the Conflict of Ages.
Then there is the popular, eccentric Thos. K. Beecher of Elmira, N.Y., who, in his way is as ultra and sensational as his
more noted brother, Henry Ward. It is related of him that
during the Fremont campaign inii 1856, the Rev. Thomas declared that he would not shaveor be shaved until John C. Fremont was elected President of the United States. It is not
necessary to add that he wears a full beard to this day.
405
f
0 
A REMARKABLE FAM ILY.
Rev. Chas. Beecher, of Owego, N. Y., is another of the
same stamp, but younger and not so well known.
There are several others, but enough have been sketched to
justify the statement that the Beechers are a remarkable family-as remarkable as they are talented.'
406
0 
CHAPTER XVIII.
A BRIEF SKETCH OF HENRY WARD BEECHER-HIS SCHOOLBOY
DAYS-PREACHING TO NEGROES-HIS EARLY MINISTERIAL
LABORS IN THE WEST-SOMAETHIING ABOUT HIS THEOLOGI  CAL VIEWS-PERSONAL APPEARANCE AND ANECDOTES OF
THE MAN.
HENRY WARD BEECHER, the central figure in this
volume, first saw the light on June 24th, 1813, and is
now in his sixty-second year. He is the issue of Dr. Lyman
Beecher's second wife, who died during the infancy of this
afterwards-famous divine, and, of course, in early childhood he
was not blessed with the maternal devotion that does so much
to mould the character of the future man. Yet he had a stepmother possessing many excellent characteristics.  His boyhood differed but little from that of other children, yet early
in life he betrayed an enthusiastic love for nature, and he was
never happier than roaming the fields or forests gathering wild
flowers and admiring everything beautiful in nature. Possessed
of a high degree of vitality, he was often subject to severe discipline for overstepping the Puritanic idea of propriety. It was
observed that he preferred to collect his lessons from nature's
open book rather than from the duller teachings of the trained
pedagogue, and still he is remarkable for that striking characteristic. He was graduated, we learn, from Amherst College
in 1834, and then entered Lane 4minary, Cincinnati, of which
Dr. Lyman Beecher was president, for a theological course.
407
6 
HIS FIR S T MIXIS 1'RA1' IONS.
He first began his ministry while taking this course. In the
suburbs of Cincinnati was a colored church without any regular pastor, and the congregation were only too happy to listen
to the eloquence of the young student from Lane Seminary.
In this colored church Henry:Ward Beecher made his debut
as a teacher of the truths of his Master, and probably it was to
this circumstance that hle owes the love he has ever since displayed for his fellow-creatures and human freedom. His first
regular settlement as pastor was at Lawrenceburgh, Indiana,
in charge of a Presbyterian church.  It was about this time he
married Miss Eunice Leighton of Hill Farm, Massachusetts
a lady who has certainly up to this time well sustained the position of wife to one of the most distinguished divines that the
nineteenth century has produced.  Of his career at Lawrenceburg,h we are told more minutely elsewhere.  There he remained from 1837 until 1839, when he was called to Indianapolis as
pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, which he had charge
of for eight years. The fame of the young minister, however,
had extended beyond the confines of the then little town of
Indianapolis, and the great tidal wave of his popularity began
to set in. He was very radical for the old staid Presbyterian
church, and showed a desire to be independent, to accept the
truth wherever found, whether within or without the Presbyter,ian faith. IHis sermons were of tenier drawn from the
fruits and flowers, the forests and hills, the birds and the
beasts, than from the catechism and the laws and the prophets.
"It was," says a biographer, "during his residence here that
he delivered and published a series of'Lectures to Young
Meni,' which were at the time very popular and were sold and
read extensively at the East as well as in the vicinity where
published.  He was also editorially connected with an agriculturail paper.  In 1847 he received a call to become the Pastor
of the Plymouth Congregational Church at Brooklyn, which
was accepted and for nearly twenty-seven years he has held the
position, and it is safe to say that no clergyman in America
408
41 
THE PL YMO UTH PULPIT.'
has ever so quickly attained, or so long retained such a hold
upon the masses as Sir. Beecher. He has been praised, flattered, and almost deified by some, and villified, misrepresented
and lied about by others. No man has ever preached to such
congregations, for the hundreds who"crowd his church are but
a drop ill the bucket compared to the thousands who hear his
sermons, prayers and talks, through the medium of the press.
Reporters attend his Sunday services, and his'sermons are reported and printed in full, formerly in the Independent, but
now in pamphlet form called "The Plymouth Pulpit."  The
New York Herald reports and prints his weekly Lecture Room
talks, and for years a Boston daily has, in its Saturday evening
issue, published one of his sermons. But the Church is not
the only avenue through which he reaches the public.  He
has, for many years been one of the most popular lecturers in
the country; and he is now the great star of the lecture room.
Like Cushman, Booth or Jefferson of the stage, he can dictate
his own terms, and managers will "see him" for they know he
is sure to draw. He has also been a prominent stump speaker
in all the more exciting political campaigns for years, and it
may be said in this connection, that many of his so-called
sermons were very like political harangues.  He has also been
connected with the press for a long time.  Was one of the most
popular writers for the Itdependent, his contributions being
signed with an asterisk, became popularly known as the "Star
Papers," and were subsequently published in book form under
that title. He was at one time the reputed editor of the
Independent, but was really little more than a contributor; the
editorial labors being performed by the late Joshua Leavitt
and others, but it was a good card, and the publishers knew it
would win."
He has also for years written for the New York Ledger, his
first contribution being a serial for which Bonner paid a very
large price, and it was doubtess a very good investment; yet
the same story written by an unknown author, probably would
18
409
0 
TiE LIFE 0OF CHRPIST.
not have brought a hundred dollars.  Mr. Beecher still writes
short sketches and squibs for the Ledyer. In addition to all
these labors he has, until recently, been the ostensible editor of
the CIristiait Utiion from its foundation, and his name has un doubtedly been one of the prinlcipal levers which have hoisted
that publication into popularity.  He also compiled and edited
what is known as the "Plymouth Collection of Hymns and
Tunes," and later hlie wrote the "Life of Christ," which has had
a very large sale, and was very highly complimented by the
critics.  Mr. Beecher made one venture in imitation of Mrs.
Stowe in the field of fiction, under the title of "Norwood,"
which, however, was not characterized by extraordinary vigor
or originality of plot and design, and the fact that lhe had
ever written it would probably soon have been forgotten had
Theodore Tilton not recalled during his cross-examination attention to it, by remarking that MIr. Beecher used to bring the
proofs of "Norwood" to 3Mrs. Tilton for her criticism and
suggestion.
From the foregoing sketch of his various occupations it will
be readily seen that Mr. Beecher has been anything but a drone
in the human hive; on the contrary he hlas been "abulndait in
labors." Not one in a thousand could have endured half so
much, and yet to-day, not one man in five thousand is, at the
age of sixty-two, so well preserved.
In personal appearance iMr. Beecher shows that he has lived
a life of activity, and given futll developmnent alike to mind and
body-that, as one writer says, "hle has realized to the fullest
extent all the benefits which Macbeth invokes for his guests
when he says:  "And now may good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both."
His head is large, and his face full, round and ruddy; eyes large,
full and expressive; lips and chlin heavy and suggestive of an
epicure. Tilton reports him a voluptuary, but lie has certainly a
keen appreciation of the gol things of this life, but his healthy,
robust frame clearly sows that he has never so far abused the
410
4 
IYCONSISTENCY OF CHARA CAGER.
generous gifts of Providence as to make the acquaintance of
dyspepsia. Certainly his general physique exhibits a highly
animal organization, such as one would expect to find in the
make-up of a well-fed butcher.  Yet one look at his expressive
face tells one that it is that of a man of no common character.
One writer ill sketching him and drawing a comparison
between Beecher and Dr. Storrs of Brooklyn, said:-"Mr.
Storrs has no lack of veneration; Mr. Beecher has no lack of
the want of it."  A more recent one says, " ie looks like a man
who loves the entire race of Adam, and would like to gather
them to his bosom as a hen gathereth her young brood to
shield them from the storm or threatened danger."
It is reported of him that some years ago in discussing theology with his friend Rev. E. H. Chapin, (confessedly the ablest
Universalist preacher in the country,) the latter remarked,
"Well, after all, there is not very much difference in our belief."
"Yes there is Chapin, a Hell of a difference," was the chlaracteristic response of Beecher, and yet, not long after, he declared
that no one could really believe the old Calvinistic doctrine of
hell, and retain their reason for a fortnight. One week you
would imagine him to be a Spiritualist, and the next he would
inveigh against it in no measured terms. Consistency and
uniformity are no elements in his character. Possibly his beliefs do not vary so much as one would suppose, but his want
of method and system in the preparation of his sermons fosters
a loose mode of expression which makes him liable to be misunderstood. lIe does not sit down in his library on Monday,
and build up his sermons according to the schools from "firstly"
to "finally" but often selects his theme half an hour before
going to church and relies upon his impulses, and the inspiration of the hour; drawing from the storehouse of memory, or
perhaps upon some incident of the moment for his illustrations.
One anecdote on this point, which is probably untrue, and
which the author learns Mir. Beecher has denied, is too good
however to pass over here. The story goes that one very hot
6
411 
GOD FORGIVES AS A MOTHER.
Sabbath morning he entered his pulpit and when ready to begin his sermon, slowly arose, drew his handkerchief across his
face, and casting his eyes over his congregation, exclaimed,
"It is damned hot!"'  The congregation were startled, but
when he finished the sentence, "were the words I heard when
I entered this church," and then preached one of tl)he best sermons of his life on "Profanity," they were in ecstacies.  This
is the story, but whether true or false the author has no personal knowledge.
His manner in his pulpit delivery is in such utter disregard
of church decorum that the holy sanctuary is sometimes called
"Beecher's Circus."  As we have already said hlie deals largely
ili metaphors or illustrations drawn from nature, or real life, or
books.  In the habits of a siail, the flight of a bird, the
mechanism of a steam engine, the babbling of the brooks;
either will give him the groundwork for one of his inimitable
sermons.  At times he walks up and down the platform terribly in earnest, like a well-schooled actor gesti('ulating wildly
until fear seems to settle down upon his hearers.  The next
moment he will strike a vein of pathos in which his hearers
are entranced, then he will suddenly run into the comic "and
his queer conceits will be enforced and vivified," says a biographer by the most comical gesttures, and grotesque facial
contortions, and the listener or observer must be more than
ordinarily well anchored who can refrain from a good hearty
laugh "right out in meeting" and the mental exclamation will
involuntarily arise, "What a rare comedian."
"In his illustrations he frequently uses some most beautiful
figures, and whether studied and wrought out for the occasion
or not, they always seem to be spontaneous. For instance, once
discussing upon the loving kindness, and forgiving mercy of
the Great Father, he stopped, was silent for a moment, anl
almost heavenly smile came over his face, and with a voice
subdued and modulated a very few are capable of doing, he
said, "God forgives as a mother, who kisses away into everlast
412
0 
BEECHER'S IDEA OF PROGRESS.
ing forgetfulness the faults of her erring, but penitent child."
As previously remarked, Mr. Beecher is not a Theologian,
and cannot be claimed by any school, although he has been
for twenty-five years the foremost preacher in the country, and
his church is called "Congregational;" yet he is not in accord
with that denomination, and it is almost certain, that if hlie were
a young, and unknown man, and should present himself before
an association of Orthodox Congregational Ministers; as a candidate for ordination and installation, as a Pastor, and should
while under examination, avow a tithe of his disregard for the
accepted doctrines of that organization, which he so freely and
boldly preaches to his own people, he would be unanimously
rejected as unsound and dangerous.  Or if he should succeed
by his wonderful magnetic power, in so mesmerizi(ng a staid
body of Puritan Clergymen, as to secure their indorsement,
we think the bones of Cotton Mather, Edwards, Hlop)kins,
Tyler, and others of the departed New England Fathers would
rattle in their graves.
"What is Orthodoxy?" he asks.  "I will tell you.  Orthodoxy is my doxy-and Heterodoxy is your doxy, that is if your
doxy is not like my doxy.' What is terribly and dangerously
heterodox this year, may be accepted as the very essence of orthodoxy next year.
" His idea of the true mission of the church and its ministry
is not to dig among the dead dogmas of the past, or to cihoke
his people with the dust from the mummies of a theology which
might have been good centuries ago, but is now obsolete. But
rather this, that Christianity, if valuable at all, is only so, when
applied to the living issues of the day, and that its forms of
presentation and application must change with advancing civilization.  As well think of compelling the full grown, brawny
man, to wear the bands and swaddling clothes of his infancy,
and be fed on pap, as to dematid that this generation shall be
restricted to the thleologic limits of the centuries which have
passed into history. Ever? art, every science, and every pro
413 
HE UNSETTLED THE FAITH.
fession have made, and will continue to make rapid strides with
each succeeding generation, and there is no reason why theol ogy should be an exception. Such are Mr. Beecher's ideas,
although not expressed in his own words.
"Mr. Beecher is a better demolishor than builder.  Hle has
done imuch to weaken and pull down the old walls of religious
superstition, and in doing so mna.y not have been very cautious
ill avoiding to pull down and weaken faith in some doctrines
tlhat were still valuable.  Like Theodore Parker and othlerradical demolishers of old andcl musty creeds, hlie has not evinced
much constructive talent, aind yet, there can be little question
that while he has done much to unsettle the faith of thousands
in the theology of their ancestors, he has at the same time accomplished a good work in diffusing more liberal ideas throughout the land, and all denominations (perhaps unconsciously)
have modified and softened not only their beliefs, but their
maniner of teaching them, and few mtinisters now would dare to
preach to an intelligent congregation, the doctrines of "Infant
Damnation" and that God the Father had before the.foundation
of the world elect(ed unborn millions to suffer the fiery tortures
of ~Eernal Hell.
"M r. Beecher's appearance upon the platform of the Lecture Room is not much different from what i is in the church.
There are the same general characteristics, but more abandon
and a broader humor.  His lectures are generally upon Political, National o)r Social topics, and as in his sermons, lie is profuse in the use of illustrations. lie so utterly ignores inl his
dress and manners, the conventionalities of the clergy, that one
who was ignorant of the fact, would never suspect him  of
belonging to the fraternity.  He not only ignores, but most
heartily despises, the traditional peculiarities and depoirtineit
so generally adopted by his brethren in the ministry."
"Once in the course of a lecture he alluded to the severe
criticisms which had been so freely made by both the secular
anid religious press upon himtaking such an active part in po
414
41 
BEECHER AY ACTOR.            4
litical affairs, (this was in the winter following the Fremont
campaign, duringr wlhichl he not only took the stump, but
preached po)litics ill his church, and sent out his buirning sarcasms, weekly, throtughI thle columnis of the Izde)ende(t).  He
said: —' Did I wlhen I became a minister cease to be a mani and
a citizen?  N'o! A thousand times no! Have I not as much
interest in our government as thlou,gh I w(ere a lawyer, a doctor,
a merchant, a banker, a farmer, a ditchl digg r or a wo)d sawyer?' Out upon this idea tlhat a minister must dress minister, wcalk minister, tal,, minister, ect minister, and wear lhis
ministerial badge as a convict does his stripes.''I htve the
same righlts, privileges, and responsibilities as any other citie,ln,
and I intend to claim them always andt everywhlere, and I ask lno
exemptions or privileges otn the ground that I am  a mijii'ter.'
In the delivery of the above, his mimickry of the convuetional
minister was one of the finest pieces of comedy actiing it; has
ever been the privilege of the author to witness, and lie hlas
seen Sothern, Jefferson, Warren, Clarke and nearly all the great
comedians of the age.  Anothlier instance of his wonderlul[
power in the use of illustration.
"He, in the course of a lecture, managed  to bring in irout
fishing; and hle at once threw himself into the attitude of ain
expert angler; he threw h-is fly, (an ima,ginarly one of cottirs')
and presently hooked his finny game, and then for five minutes
(it seenled fifteen) he dodged from one side of the rostrum to
the other, up and down, giving line and reeling in, until the
entire audience (nearly two thlousand) leaned forward with expectant eyes and open mouthls, until, finally after many attempts and feints lie landed the speckled beauty, when there
was a sighl of relief all tlhrugh the hall, and one panrticularily
excited man exclaimed: "By           he's got him."  Now tli-re
was no water, no trout, no rod, no line, no fly, and y)et there
was all the excitement there could have beeni, had the audience really seen Seth Green or Georg,e D)awson hlook and land
a three poundler.
"Socially MIr. Beecher is as pleasing and interesting as in his
public efforts;  always genii- and lhearty, brim full of life and
running over with htlmor, abounds in anecdote, and tells a
415
6 
HE IS FOND OF A JaKE.
good story, enjoys a hearty laugh after a hearty dinner. IIis
fund of magnetism, like the widow's cruse is, never exhausted,
no matter how frequent or large drafts are made upon it.  The
men admire him, the woman adore him, and the children all
love him.  lie is very fond of children and pets of all kinds.
A good horse is his delight, and he enjoys hugely a ride behind
one who goes in two an(d a small fraction, and probably would
not object, if he had the means, to emulate }lis friend Bolnner
in his stables, stuid and equipage; and no man is a more ar dent lover of the beautiful in nature. The rocks and rills, the
vales and hills. woods, brooks and rivers all find in him anll ecli thlusiastic worshiper.
Mr. Beecher's profession never prevents him from hlaving his
"little joke" for which he has a keen relish.  The late T. Starr
King, (in many respects the most brilliant genius that ever
adorned the American pulpit, or lecture hall) related the fol lowing characteristic anecdote of Mr. Beecher.  Mlr. King, as
those who have seen him will remember, was a thin, spare man
with an almost bloodless face, and it seemed a marvel how
such a frail physical structure could sustain suchl a colossal
brain, heart auid soul.  One cold, winter morning le was walk img across Boston Common;  the east wind  was swveepin
tlirougoh the mall and walks, and he said it seemed as tlogl,Il
the very marrow in his bones had turned to ice, lis lips were-a
blue, and his whole frame shivering, when suddenly a )air (,f
strong arms were thrown around him from behind, and hlie was
lifted up bodily; turning his head he saw the round, jolly face
of Mr. Beeclher, his cheeks in a ruddy glow, and glistening with
perspiration. "iHow is it (asked King) that you are glowing
with warmth while I am nearly chlilled to detath?" " Easily accounted for, Bro. King," responded  Bececher.  "Wlhat right
have you who are not orthodox to expect to have warm blood
coursing through your veins? It is simply orthodoxy, or the
lack of it, that makes the difference.  You must be orthodox,
my brother if you want to be warm and vigorous."
"Mr. Beclher and Rev. E. H. Chlapiin hlive for many years
been warm personal friends, and have been co-workers ill the
temperance cause.  Chapin has suflTered occasional attacks of
gout, and has at times been confined for some weeks and suffered intensely from its effects. During one of his attacks, the
author called upon him a; his house, and found him in his
easy chair, with his game foot svwathled and resting upon a,
cushion in the genuine old aristocratic style.  After disposing
416
-b 
CHA UNCEY B URR'S CRITICISM.
of the business whlich occasioned the visit, a little time was
spent in familiar chat.  "By the way," said Chipin, " Beeclier
was over to see me yesterday, and hit me a g(o I one.  Ah!"
said hle, " this preaclhinly temperance is all very fine, and possibly may be producetive of great good to our fellow creatures,
but if one wants to enjoy the blessed fruits of temperance in
his own body, he must practice as well as preachl."
The above, the author believes, is a just sketch of this great
divine. In compiling it lie has liberally quoted from another
writer whose views concide so nicely with his own that he has
felt constrained to use them here.  Of course, no attempt is
here made to sketch Mr. Beecher's eventful career, that alone
would fill this volume, the only aim being to give sufficient to
enable the reader with the assistance of the portrait of Plymouth's pastor, to form an intelligible opinion of him.
The author cannot resist the temptation to embody here a
criticism of Mr. Beecher, written in 1868, it is said Ly Chauncy
Burr,-not to endorse it, but rather to give the reader the
opinion of one so well known as Mr. Burr:  Of the cleverness of Henry Ward B echer, both as a writer
and speaker, there can be no questionl.  Even in a profession
for which he is least of all fitted, hlie has made a sensation,
partly because of a natural genius which would have given himn
pre-eminence anywhere, and partly because he )pressed into its
practice those tricks which wouldl have given hini success in tihe
profession for which he was best fitted by nature.  lie has
managed in his ministry to mingle the pulpit and the playhouse as no other man living could have dolie, and to bring the
buffoonery of the stage, with a very thin varnish over it, into
the services of the conventicle. His sermons are always exceedingly clever —not as sermons, but as things to amuse and
entertain an audience. They solve no difficulties of doctrine,
they remove no doubts of the troubled Christian, they co(mfort
no soul anxious to be relieved of its sin, they show no road to
salvation-for all practical purposes, and with but a few changes
of words, they might answer for the debating club, the stump,
or the mock-court of the cider-cellar; but as specimens of wordweaving-of words with lisle original thought, they are almnost
marvellous.  And for those who are jaded with novels, and
surfeited with flash newspapers, it will be pleasant news to
18*              -
417
t
0 
DEITY OF PL YMO UTH CHURCII.
learn that forty-six of Beechler's sermons, revised by the author,
and considered by him to be his best and wittiest, and least
tainted with piety, have been issued( in two large and handsome
volumes, and may be placed in the library alongside of the
Chevalier de Fanbias, and Fredoniad, and be read and enjoyed
at any time by the lover of light literature.  Yet there is a
slight fault in the compilation.  The book is an incongruous
mixture. After each sermon we have a copy of those 1)tlblic
instructions to the Almilghty, in regard to the latter's conduct
of affairs, which Mr. Beecher, likle a chaplain of Congress, is in
the habit of giving weekly, in the shape of prayer. That these
instructions are wise, there cal be no doubt.  So long as MIr.
Beechlier remains in a state of anxious doubt as to whether he
did or did not create the Creator, their utterance may be a relief to the preacher. But why put them in a book? They are
strictly a private affair between the Almighty and the Deity
of Plymouth Church, and they occupy space which might have
been better filled by two or three entertaining and comic sermnions. In a future edition, we hope that Mr. Beecher will cut
these out, and thus add another to the many favors he has
conferred upon his devout worshippers.
418
f
0
0 
CHAPTER XIX.
SKETCH OF THEODORE TILTON-HIS CAREER AS A REPORTER,
EDITOR, LECTURERI, NOVELIST AND POET-HIS PERSONAL
APPEARANCE-HIS DEVOTED ADMIRATION OF THE FAIR SEX
-A MAN WHOSE ADONIS-LIKE APPEARANCE WOULD CARRY
THE CITADEL OF ANY SUSCEPTIBLE HEART-MR. SAMUEL
BOWLES; SKETCH OF HIM.
/R. TILTON  occupies the second place in importance in
this work, and we shall do no more than endeavor to
give a hurried sketch of his career and labors since attaining
his majority.  It may be said, however, that he was educated
in the public schools of New York, selected the journalistic
profession became a stenographer and general reporter on the
Tribune, was a protege of Horace Greeley, and finally rose
through all the grades of journalism until he became editor of
the Brooklyn  Uiion and the Ildel)enlent, in the service of
Henry C. Bowen.
" His personal appearance, says a gifted biographer, is almost
remarkable.  Nature must have been in a kindly mood when
she arranged the mould in which the physical Theodore Tilton
was cast; and his mental abilities and characteristics are in
sweet accord with his physical symmetry. AIr. Tilton is emplatically what Trowbridge's "Vagabond" said he was in his
early manhood, "One of your handsome men."
Ile is rather tall, neither slim, nor stout, but of elegant form
and proportion. His hair (worn long) is in color between a
brown and auburn, and is incined to curl, is always neatly arranged, and combed back, hanging in heavy masses over his
collar. His eyes are very expressive, piercing, yet with an al                           419  
BOWLES' SKETCH OF THEODORE.
most dove-like softness and tenderness.  His features come
nearer to the pure Grecian type than any American whom  we
have met; always cleanly shaved, his dress faultlessly neat, rich
and becoming, and his linen immaculate in its whiteness.   In
fact his whole app earance would indicate that he fully accepted
the truth of the proverb that " cleanliness is akin to Godliness."
Tlhe reader may  think we are drawiing the lport)rIait of a perfect
Adonis; and perhaps we may as well admit it, for we hlave rLrely,
it ever, met a maln who approximates so nearly to our standard
of the ideal Adonis, as does Theodore Tilton; iand we sliould
think that any woman of sentiment and retinenment would liot
otly ad mire him, but fall iiin love witil him.   Socially, lie is not
only interesting, but fascinationg; calmio8st irresistible;  always the
refined  gentlem,an; a first class conversationalist, and an
eveninig sp(ent with him, listeningi to his converse, or hearing
him read poetry, with his soft, rich voice, is something to remember with pleasurable emotion; and yet he is a radical of
the most ultra type.
"M r. Tilton is about thirty-seven years of age, and has during
his whole manhood life, been connected with Journalism.   in
his early career as a journalist, he was a stenographer and reporter, but he first became prominently known to the public
through his connection with th!e IldPe)ede)lt, of which lie was
for several years the responsible, man(,Iging editor,.and in his
editorials, no one can gainsay that lie was in all rsl')ects what
the title of that paper indicates, for he wN,s emphatically i)ilepen(leitt in the full significance of that word.   In his expressionis of his views, political, social or religious, he as utterly
ignored the old li)eaten tracks andl long accepted formulas, as
did( his pastor, Mr. Beecher, in his mintistrations at Plymouth
Church.  As a radical he fairly out-distanced those wlho had
been pioneers in the cause before lie had ever writte-n: a paragra.ph.
The I,idepedcdent, as the reader is aware, was started as a
professedly religious publication, but has really been quite as
muchl devoted to political, social and commercial interests as to
purely religious topics, ald under the management of Mr.
Tilton, politics seemed to be the dominant 1eature in that sheet;
and while Air. Tilton was professedly a republican, he never
hesitated to score any leader in that party who failed to come
up to his ideas of the tte mission of radical republicanism.
He was, prior to the, act of emaLncipation, a most ultra and unconmpromising advocate of freedom for all, and as soon as thle
f
420 
ALORD OF CREATION.
abolition of slavery had become a fixed fact he turned his artillery upon the real or supposed wrongis of woman,  and the
columns of his paper fairly teemed with appeals and arguments
in behalf of womant's rights, and female  suff'age, and we
question if the cause has ever had a more enthusiastic advocate
among the "Lords of creation" than Theodore Tilton.  He
not only wrote for it, but spoke for it; and was sneered,it and
made the target for all sorts of ridicule by the conservative
press the country through.
"From the initiatory of woman's rights and female sutffrage,
to the extreme and revolutionary social-freedom platform of
Mrs. Woodhull and her disciples, the road was an easy and
natural one, and Mr. Tilton was ere long found standing side
by side with her, and openly indorsing her particular doctrines.
Thus we find him November 20th, 1871, at Steinway Hall,
New York city, presiding at an immense meeting, and iiitroducing Mrs. Woodhull to the audience before whom she deliveredl her celebrated speech defining for the first time publicly
the principles of social freedom as held by her; and whatever
may be his position now, the part he assumed then was virtually
a public indorsement of, and declaration of adhesion to, the
bold platform launched on the w'aves of public opinion on that
occasion.   ie also wrote (or allowed his name to go forth to
the public as tihe author of) a biography of Mrs. Woodhull, and
eulogized her as one of the purest women on earth; and she at
that time, no doubt, counted upon him, as one who would stand
in the front rank as an advocate and exemplar of her social doctriniies, and as a founder and sustainer of the Utopia, to the
establishment of which she had pledged her "fortune," her
life" and her "sacred honor."
After his dismissal from the service of Mr. Bowen, MIr. Tilton founded the Golden Age which supplied a new field for the
journalist.  The Age took very radical and independent grotund
on all public questions, and when the Liberal Republican movement was inaugurated Tilton was one of its most earnest supporters, throwing his pen and voice into the campaign in support of its principles and Horace Greeley. A few weeks ago
he temporarily retired from the Age but still owns it.
As a lecturer Theodore Nas no less bril'iant than as a journalist. Though not go popular on the rostrum as Beecher,
a
421 
" I'EMPEST TOSSED."
he was decidedly attractive, and rarely did he fail to secure
crowded houses whlen annolunced to appear.   As a delyer in
the          field of fiction hlie has won success in his firIst efiort, and his
book        "Tempest Tossed" shows  that manly of the characters
are        ably drawn.  Indeed, it is as a novel admitted to be soperior t o Beecher's "Norwood."  " Mary Vail," one of the characters        in "  Tempest Tossed," it is admitted, represents Mrs. Tilton.   We regret that we have not space to quote from the work
in th is connection.  As a poet Mr. Tilton has shown considerable genius. Two of the most noted ones are "Sir Marliladuke's Musings," given elsewhere, and "A  Faith Confession."
The           latter is as follows:
As other men have creeds, so I have mine;
I keep the holy faith in God, in man,
And in the angels ministrant between.
I hold to one true church of all true souls;
Whose churchly seal is neither bread nor wine,
Nor laying on of hands, nor holy oil,
But only the anoiniting of God's grace.
I hate all kings, and( caste, and rank of birth;
For all the sons of ten are sons of God;
Nor limips a beggar but is nobly born;
Nor wcars a slave a yoke, nor Czar a crown,
That makes him less or more than just a man.
I love my country and her righteous cause:
So dare I not keep silent of her sin;
And after Freedom, may her bells ring Peace!
I love one woman with a holy fire,
Whom I revere as priestess of my house;
I stand( witll wondering awe before my babes,
Till they rel)buke me to a nobler life,;
I keep a faithlifiil friendship with my friend,
Whom loyally I serve before myself;
I lock my lips too close to speak a lie;
I wash my hands to white to touch a bribe;
I owe no man a debt I cannot payExcept the love that man should always owe.
0
422 
HE IS A POET.
Withal, eachl day, before the blessed I-Heaven,
I open wide the cll)anbers of miy soul,
And pray the Itoly Ghlost to enter in.
Thus reads the ftir confession of my faith,
So crossed with contradictions by my life,
That now may God forgive the written lie!
Yet still, by help of limn, who lielpethll men,
I face twio worlds, and fear not life nor death!
0 Father! lead imeC by Thly hand'  Amen.
The course he has seen fit to pursue in regard to the scandal
which so deeply affects his domestic relations, has been variously commented up)on; his reticence  for years, has been severely condemned by some of his friends, and as heartily commended by others.  Whether he has acted wisely or not, is
neither the purpose or province of the writer to attempt to decide.
One thing, however, is certainly very sure, and that is, he
deeply regrets his association with, and frequent public indorsement of the champions of free love, and social revolution,
and has doubtless found it as dangerous an occupation as holding a wolf by the ears, nzeither safe to hold on or let go.   The
details of his experience in this character will hereinafter more
fully appear.
The author while preparing this imperfect skletchl of Mr.
Tilton, found in the Springfield  (Massacihusetts) Republican,
edited by Mr. Samuel Bowles, who has long known Mr. Tilton, the following article:  Forty years ago, this summer, young Itenry W. Beecher
graduated from Amherst college.   The next year, was born
Theodore Tilton in New York city. People yet in their youth
may remember the brilliancy of Tilton's debut.  In the ten
years succeeding the attainment of his majority, he worked upon the Independent, and became the idol and the weekly teaclher of a vast constituency of readers. Hie was young, handsome and full of heart.  IH  heli  the physique of the natural
man and a head and face like Goethe's in that bust of him in
t
423 
HE UNDER TOOK TO SA VE.
his youth, and such as a pagan would  have called god-like.
He was a mrlm  of i-il)mulst-s antl affections no less ardent and
broad than Mr. Beecher's and in l)is wvriting lie added to tll(se
a style trenchant and vigorous.  Hie loved lhumanity in theabstract and he loved it in Ilia-friends hlaving for liis intimattes
even of his own sex a fraternal embrace tirat smacked of the
Gallic habit.  He was a man whose heart wvats great, and it was
a time wlhen heart wvas needed.  It wvas a time when dorm,at
iattures had to be roused, when the discouraged and the wearv
had to be nerved'lgain to thle conflict.  It was no time for logic,
but for battle, and we all pressed on, grateful for any impetuts,
impatient of reason.  In the great anti-slavery war, Theodore
Tilton did his share.
After the war, we fell upon times wlhichl demanded considerable cold calculation, and we slid back into the old mnaterialistic "h lorse-sense" ways of looking at things.  Our Donatello,
(for he strongly reminds us of Hawthorne's "Marble Faun"),
seemned out of place with his sentiment, which by that time we
had come to call gushl.  In otur cyniical mood, he seeme(] an
overgrown boy rather than a mature man.   Spoiled by the flatteries that had been heaped upon him and soured by business
disappointments, we see him at length plunged into a domestic d(lifficulty of an appalling character.  A Sickles would have
shot the supposed intruder, a selfish nman would lhave settled
it "for a consideration," but Tiltoni forgave.  He undertook to
save his wife and Mr. Beecher; the smart became too sore, and
he souglht advice, and little by little he proved quite inadequate
in cunning to carry out the plan which his heart dictated.
421
0 
CHAPTER XX.
SKETCH OF M3RS. TI{EODORE TILTON nee ELIZABETH RICHARDS.
-HER DEEPLY RELIGIOUS TURN OF MIND.-TIIE DELICATE
COMPLIMENTS PAID HElt BY THE HUSBAND WHO CHARGES
HER WITH A GREAT SIN.
W ITHOUT  some facts descriptive of the above named
lady- who in this disgraceful and nauseating scandal,
has certainly suffered more acute anguish than any of tie parties to it; yet who we are told, has maintained a calmness such
as only women in affliction know how-this volume wculd be
very incomplete. The author has never met her, and must
depend upon those who have, for a biographical and personal
sketch. He will, therefore, be excused for extracting from the
writings of others. The Daily Graphic in describing her
remarks:  "Mrs. Elizabeth R. Tilton, whose name has become unfortunately conspicuous in connection with the great Brooklyn
Scandal, is a lady of about forty years of age.   She is under
medium lheight, with black hair and eyes, a face that is interesting though not beautiful, with an expression that indicates
unusual sensibility and sentimentality rather than intellecttual
force or refinement.  Her appearance is modest and h(er air
peculiarly sincere and confiding.  I1er manners  are easy and
natural, with a simple grace which is more pleasing than what
passes for elegance in polite society.  I1er prevailing mood is
profoundly serious, lit up with occasional gleams of joy and
sometimes breaking into a kauitiful playfulness.  At times,
when her feelings are J)leasantly excited and her face glows
withl expression, she appears really handsome; at other times,
42a
ol
46
0 
XR?S. TILTOX'S LIFE.
when depressed or wearied or unexcited, her eye is lustreless
and her face is cltdull and unattractive.  She is a good housekeeper and an excellent mother, devotedly fond of her clhildren,
and doing more for them and spending more time ill reading
to them and talking with themn than most mothers.  Her
tastes and habits are domestic, senltimental, and religious
rather than  esthetic or literary; her readilng has not been
extensive, and her favorite pictures are valuable for their sentiment rather than artistic excellence or imaginative power.
She has had seven children, four of whom are living.  The
eldest is a daughter of more than ordinary maturity of mind
and force of character.   She resembles her father much more
than the other children-so much that she would be recognized
as his daughter by those who are familiar with his features.
Her home, on Livingston Street, was once peculiarly attractive
and charming by affection that filled its rooms with a climate
of summer and a fragrance as of blooming roses; it was tastefully furnished, graced with exquisite pictures, niade poetic by
the disposition and arrangement of its contents, and the ideal
element visible and palpable in every apartment.  It seemed
to realize the ideal of home.
"Of Mis. Tilton's married life it is obviously indelicate and
unbecoming to say muchl. She was naturally religious, and
united with the church when young and lhad a class in the
Sunday-school. She was attached to all persons of a religious
cast of mind, and particularly friendly to her pastor, to whom
she seems to have gone for counsel, and on whom she leaned
perhaps more than was well for either. The last evidence of
her religious sincerity is furnished b)y the feact that her husband
has defended her so long, and by his elmphlatic statements before the committee.  If she has sinned, he contends, that was
through the blinding of her conscience and the misleading of
her mind, and he acquits her of guilt while he accuses her of
crime.'I have taken pains to say that she was a devoted
Christian woman,' said MAr. Tilton on examination;'a tender,
delicate, kindly Christian woman. Her's is one of the white
souls.'
"'There are a great many women who look upon a man
with a sense of worship; Elizabeth never did that; Elizabeth
is the peer of any man; at the same time she reverenexis; it
was not vanity-it was;everence; she never regarded MAr.
Beecher as a silly woman regards him;  she was not a silly
woman taken captive; slhe was a wise, good woman taken cap
426
I 
SHE WAS VERYRELIG'IO U&
tive. Elizabeth was in a sort of vaporous-like cloud. She
was between light and dark.  She could not see that it was
wronIg.  She maintained to her mother in my presence that
she had not done wrong; she cannot bear to do wrong; a sense
of having done wroig, is enough to crush her; she naturally
seeks for her own peace a conscientitus verdict; she never
would have had these relations if she had supposed at the time
that they were wrong; Elizabeth never does anything that at
the time seems wrong; for such a large moral nature, there is
a lack of a certain balance and equipoise; she has not a will
that guides and restrains; but Elizabeth never does at any time
thalt which does not have the stamp of her conscience at the
time upon it.  I think she certainly spends hours on  her
knees some days; I don't suppose a day passes over Elizabeth
that the sun, if he could peep through the windows, would not
see her on her knees."'
"Testimony like this," says the Graphic, "from an accusing
husband invests the character of the wife with peculiar interest, if not with mystery. It is hard for a majority of people to
comprehend such complexity.  But it is not difficult to see
that such a woman as he has described, could hardly enjoy his
eccentricities of belief, his intimtnate relations witl reformers of
all kinds. his severe criticisms of the church she regarded as so
sa,cried.  She naturally recoiled from much that he loved, and
wanted to hide her face from the pictures he hung on the
wall. His friends she looked upon as the foes of religion, and
the more firmly he set his face towards freedom the more resolutely she hid hers in the tradition of her childhood. iHe
says:' She would not let the children have playthings on Sunday. John G. Whittier came to our house one Sunday night,
and Mr. Greeley, and met Mr. Johnson; and it almost broke
Elizabeth's heart to think that the best man in New England,
whom she reverenced, should have appointed Sunday night;
she never received visitors on Sunday."  His change of religious views "was a great source of tears and anguish to h(er;
she said to me once that denying the divinity of Christ in her
viewv nullified our marriage almost; and I think next to the
sorrow of this scandal it has caused that woman to sorrow more
than anything else; she has suffered because I cannot look
upon the Lord Jesus Christ as the Lord God; I think her
breast has been wrenched withl it."
0
Whether this lady be guilty or innocent of the damaging
charges alleged against her, every womanly heart must admire
4
427
t 
THEOI)ORE STILL LO VES HER.
the delicate manner in which the author of those charges
speaks of her.  It is evident that Theodore Tilton still loves
her as hle loves his God, or he would never have resorted to
such subterfuges as he did to shlield hler reputation.  Another
writer thus pictures her: 
"A most dominating wealth of silken brown hair; soft and
soulful eyes of richest lhazel; a face of exqui:site sweetness and
tenderness, and rile withl culture and clhatracter;  a mouth
carved by the gods, and lips full, warm and suggesting robusthess of modest passion; a cliin indicatitng a gel)tle, firm and
abundant will; a shapely neck and graLceful shoulders, and a
finely developed bust-all harmnony; all beauty; all the vigor
and tenderness of young life and fascination.  The witching
eyes seemed to brighten whlen looked into; a smile so very
sweet as to thrill me appeared upon that face when I involuntarily fixed my gaze upon it."
Of her early life there is little to say.  In early life she resided withl  her widowed mother in New York.  The family
subsequently removed to Brooklyn, where she attended several
private schools, and finally coml)leted her education at the
Packer Institute, which is more noted for the superiority of the
education imparted, than for the inculcation of religious principles. Of these times at recent writer says:  "She was a strangely earnest little brunette, that inspired
the kindest regards in her teachers, and a kind of awe ill hlr
schoolmates.  hle graduated at the age of eighteen, and at
once came to the aid of her mother, who was then keeping a
boarding house on Livingston street, a little below the pleasant
frame cottage where she so lately lived, with the stme energy
and self-devotion that she had displ.Lyed in conquering her
school ta,sks.  It was here that she met Mr. Tilton.  IIe wls a
protege of MIr. Beecher, and hence ctme to her with the best of
earthly recommendations.  Mr. B,echler lh(l known her from
a child.  She had sat upon his knee; and wlhen she at last became atcquainted with the tall, handsome, enthusiastic yoting
writer, wlio earried his indorsement, she was not disi nclihed to
receive lis attentions.  He became a boarder at hetr mothler's
house. When she was twenty-two years old tlley were marriied.
This was in 18o55.  H(I life now became wholly domestic, a
part of it devoted to her three children, and the remainder to
the supervision of a large and fashionable boarding house."
a
428
f 
CHAPTER XXI.
SKETCH OF MRS. VICTORIA CLAFLIN WOODHULL-IHEIt PERSONAL
APPEARANCE-A GLANCE AT HER PECULIIART SOCIAL THEO  RIES —A DANGEROUS ANTAGONIST, EITHER IN CONVERSATION
OR AS A WRITER.
ER late devoted admirer having reserved so much space to a
sketch of this remarkable woman's early trials, victories and
misfortunes, extracts from  which we give elsewhere, it is hardly
necessary for us to say much in addition. She is now about
thirty-six years of age, is of medium hleighlt, has a good form,
erect and firm in her carriage; her features are regular and of
the aquiline type; eyes dark blue and very expressive, and when
in speaking she gets thoroughlly roused, they are fiashiigly
eloquent. She is rather inclined to paleness, except when excited in conversation or speaking to an audience there comes a
flush upon her cheeks which is of the hectic order; her hair,
which is a light brown, is worn short and carelessly arranged;
her forehead is high and broad, and her whole head and latce
indicate more than ordinary intellectuality and mental power.
When not engaged in speaLking she has a sad and decidedly
thoughtful expression, and in her general appearance what the
French term splirituelle.  There is nothing masculine or sensual
in her looks, and if she is the sensulal, depraved woman that
she is charged withal, her whole physiognomy is a glaring lie.
Her manniers are refined and lady-like.  When strangers are
presented to her, she greets tnem with a winning cordiality
which at once sets them at ease; she is a good conversationalist,
429 
VICTORIIA AS AN ORATO?R.
and never wearies one with worn out platitudes, but is original
in her modes of exp)ressi.n, every now and then startliig her
auditors with some bol(d Lild novel proposit:.)n.  She is apt to
call things by their right names, speaks oult boldly what slhe
thinks, and we should infer that she had adopted as her own,
the mnotto of the Kniight of the Garter.  A  close observer
spending an hour in her company, and witnessing, her greet ings to one and anotlher, speaking briefly to a half dozen dif ferent persons, and perhaps on as many different topics, will
readily understand the secret of her wonderfiul power over both
menl and women.  We do not vwonder tlhat so many love her,
and others fear her, for no one can lonIg be placed within the
charmed circle of her presence and remain insensible to the
almost irresistible power of her fascinations.  But it is on the
platform that her particular talents are nmost vividly exhibited.
As a rule, female deela,imers are not a success, and Mrs.
Woodhull is not altogetlher an exception to the rule, and yet
there is a somethling about her that will lnot only attract, but hold
an audience; sloe is a radical of the radicals, and boldly, nay,
defiantly launches forthl her most ultra and advanced doctrines
of free love, and, as we think, ofter shlocks her hearers by
preaching extremes of social and sexual freedom.
She has a pleasant voice, and ordinarily speaks with deliberation, enunciatillg cleaLrly and distinctly; is at times quite logical, but often mistakes sophlistry for logic.  She appears best
when she is broken ulp in her discourse by hisses, or other uncomplimentary interruptions; they seem to evoke all the latent
powers of her whole nature, and leaving her desk and mainnscript, she pours forth a perlect torrent of fiery eloquence,
freely using (and effectively too) invective, sarcasm, or ridicule,
as the occasion demands; she is never at a loss for a ready and
apt retort on such occasions.  Iler pecreorations at the ciose of
a long and carefully written speech, see?m to be imnpromptu, and
the ideas, and words whe*withal to clothe them, to come from
the inspiration of the moment;  and even an unbeliever in
430
0 
'BELOW THE BELT."
Spiritualism can almost believe that what she claims is really
trtie; that she is controlled and guided by tlhe spirit of D'?rnosthenes, who, as she says, has for years been h(,r special gulardian, and that she not only draws her iisl)iration fronm him, but
also many of her ideas and exl)pressions; she most assuredly hlis
all the appearance of one so wholly rapt and absorbed by some
invisible influence as to be hardly conscious of her own identity.
She is very pointed and often personal in her speeches; and to
use a pugilistic simile, "]its from the shoulder" ald hlits no
hesitation in hitting  "below the belt."  She is merciless;
sparing neither friend or foe; truth, as she claims, is what she
is seeking, no matter where it may lead, or how many previously
accepted opinions, or former frieJds aid associates are sacrificed.
Nothing is sacred or inviolate with her, if it stand in the way
she has marked out.  She says "whlerever I finld at social carbuncle I shall plunge my surgicatl knife of reform into it,, vp to
the l ilt."  As it reg'tr(ls colns(lueLccts persollal to lherself, she
declares she never takes them into the account; shle may be
shut up in prison, or even led to the stake, but she will not turn
one hair's breadhl to the right or left from the course marked
out for her by her own conscience, and the teaclings of her
guardian spirit.  In a speech in Chicago she said, "I am charged
with seeking notoriety, but who among you would accep)t any
notoriety and pay a tithle of its cost to me?  Driven fiom my
former beaiutiful home, reduced from affluence to want, my
business bro-)ken up and destroyed, dragged from one jail to another, and in a short time am again to be arraigned before the
courts and stand  trial for telling thie truth.  I have  been
smeared all over with the most ol)probrious epithets, and the
vilest names, am stigmatized as a bawvd and a blackmailer.
Now until you are ready to accept my notoriety, withl its conditions-to suffer what I have suffered and am yet to sutler —
(lo )zot dare to iJip?cjgi v1y mnotives; as to your approval or dlissent, your aplplause or your  erses, they have not a feathler's
weight with me, I am set apart for a high and sacred duty, and
I sh1all perforb it without fear or favor."
4001
0 
FINANCIAL QUESTION.
As a writer she wields a caustic and eloquent pen, and especially does she shine as such in responding to an attack upon
her. Whenever she "strikes back" her blows fall with telling
effect upon her adversaries, who are invariably carried off
wounded. She has written mush upon the financial questions
agitating the country from time to time, and wrote so well that
many of her essays were honored with a place in the New York
Herald.  One of her best known works is "The Principles of
Government." Hier social theories are most revolting and find
but few indorsers, for their adoption would sap the foundations
of domestic life, and bring man down to the status of the
brute creation.
432
0 
a 
I 
COL. BLOOL).
0
i
I
,I "
i
" i I I
fil'
/i,
11 
1. I i
i 
CHAPTER XXII.
SKETCH OF COL. JOHN H. BLOOD.-THE " BREVET" HUSBAND
OF VICTORIA WOODHULL.-WHAT MRS. WOODHULL SAYS OF
HIIfM.
THIS man was originally, we believe, from Missouri. - Dur    ing the war he held the rank of Colonel of a Missouri regimnent. He was at one time one of the leading spiritualists of
St. Louis, and for some time filled a responsible government
office; there he was married, but secured a divorce that he
might marry "the Woodhull."
Col. Blood is about thirty-seven years of age, rather below
the average height, and, as will be seen by his portrait, rather
good looking. His hair is a dark brown, and his face is adorned
with a heavy mustache, and side whiskers approximating in
length the Dundreary style. He has a pleasing countenance,
and is a good talker, has a pleasant voice, but rarely speaks in
public. When making an announcement, or speaking a few
words upon any subject under discussion, he impresses one as
having clear ideas, and at least a fair capacity for expressing
them, and is in appearance what would be generally termed a
"good fellow."  It has been said, and is by many believed that
he is the "power behind the throne," or the "Warwick" of the
Woodhull kingdom, and that he writes the speeches, editorials,
etc., of Victoria and Tennie. But we have personal assurance
that such a suspicion is not Nll founded. This however is a
matter of opinion rather than knowledge. But we do believe
19               433
6 
MRS. WOO)DHULL'S LO VER.
him to be a valuable, and important spoke in the business
wheel of the firm.
In regard to his peculiar relations with Mrs. Woodhull, no
better authority can be quoted than that of Mrs. Woodhull,
who in a speech, at Vineland, New Jersey, a few years ago,
(pointing to Col. Blood,) exclaimed: "There stands my lover,
but when I cease to love him, I shall leave linm; yet I hope that
time will never come."
434
a
4b 
a 
T L'-N-\ft~C. CLAI,'i1\ 
CHAPTER XXIII.
SKETCH OF TENNIE C. CLAFLIN.-HER PERSONAL APPEARANCE.
-THE BUSINESS " MAN " OF THE BROKERAGE FIRM.-EX  TRACTS FROM HER WRITINGS. —HER POWER AS A CLAIRVOY ANT, AND A REMARKABLE TEST OF IT.
E  propose to say but little of Miss Tennie C. Claflin, as
she has not figured very prominently in connection
with the charges. Nevertheless her life has been so intimately
entwined with that of Victoria, that an attachment has grown
up between them that is lasting. In Mir. Tilton's Life of
Woodhull, Tennie's career is sketched, but we will give a few
facts regarding her ill this chapter.  In her youth she was a
clairvoyant and so-called medium, as was also her sisters Victoria and Mary (Mrs. Dr. Spar). Tennie is about twenity-nine
years of age, is quite handsome, compared with the other sisters, and is rather below medium height, and while she is not
stout, she has a plump, well-rounded form, and in both form
and features singularly free from anything approximating to
angularities; her complexion is light, almost to paleness; and
her skin is fair as that of an infant; hair, light brown, worn
short, and inclined to curl; eyes blue, sparkling, and very expressive. When engaged in conversation upon any topic which
interests her, she is all animation; talking not only with her
tongue, but with eyes, face, hands, and all over; and one would
think her whole physical structure was inlaid with a thousand
sensitive spiral springs. She is all nerve and vivacity; fuill of
magnetism and excitability, very free in her modes of expressionI, and seemingly never stops to think how any sentence is
going to sound to another, orsthat by her careless frecdom she
is liable to be misappreqended, and notwithstanding she has
since her girlhood been much around the world, and has
435 -
0 
4SA UCE FOR GOOSE, ETC.
mingled largely and freely with men of the world, she will say
and do the most o?(tre things, but with an air of the most childlike and unsophisticated innocence.
"Her face" says a writer, " does not wear the sad expression
of her sister, nor is it like hers sicklied o'er with the pale cast
of thought."  We should judge that as a br(oker she would be
of more service to the firm as a drummer up of business, and
in entertaining patrons, than in attending to details which
require patience and consecutive thought, and that as one of
the late stock brokerage firm of Woodhull & Claflin, Teniic
was thie Jim Fisk and Victoria the Jay Gould; and as publishers of the WJeekly Victoria's sphere was the editorial saecturn and Tennie's that of outside business man! to get subscribers and secure paying advertisements.  Like her sister
she is an ardent spiritualist, and sees visions, and dreams
dreams; both developing a strong hereditary superstition of
this peculiar form.  Tennie sometimes is heard upon the platform as a speaker, and( while quite as enthlusiastic as her sister,
is not as argumentative or effective.  She also wields a ready
pen, and has issued quite a large book uinder the title of " Constitutional Elqua.lity of the Sexes."  She has also written more
or less for the Weekly, and has given to the public through its
columns free utterance to her free social theories; her strongest points however are made on the subject of the social equality or the sexes-maintaining that if the woman who violates
the laws of social purity is ostracised by society, her male partner in guilt should suffer the same penalty, or if the libertine
and seducer be received into, and petted by society, his female
victim be equally well received-that if female chastity be the
condition o'f social recognition, the same condition be inexorably required of the man; that if Hester Pryne be compelled
to wear the "scarlet letter" in the market place, leer reverend
seducer shall stand by her side, wearing the same red insiglnia
of shame; or to use an old and trite maxim, "Sauce for goose,
sauce for gander."
While it is not our intention to give endorsement in any
mannier to the peculiar views of Miss Claflin, we will make
some extracts from her published writings that the reader may
see the advanced views on social questions:
0
"Whatever may be your ideas as to whether individuals
should, or should not, be permitted to think upon social free
436 
TENNIE' S DOCTI.IN-E.
dom, and to advocate their views regarding it, none of you
will, I dare say, presume to deny my sister and myself the
right to advocate whatever religious views we may hold; and
I furither presume you will not object to our changing those
views (at ally time) according to any new light that imay shine
upon us.
" herein, I shall not hesitate to Say that in religion we are
most thorough, and I trust devout spiritualists; and that
whether we are deceived, insane, or whatever else may be con.
ceived of, all our movements are largely the result of spirit influence, and often of positive direction.  And we are proud to
proclaim at all times and in all places that we yield willing
obedience to all such reqluiiements. hecause tlhr,ui,"h a long
series of years we havte learnied flomi 1req(lu(nt trial to trulst
them.
"We know, as well as any of you know what you are engaged in, that we are engaged in introducing new social views
to the notice, and for the consideration of the general public;
and that these views look to radical and sweeping changes in
the present system, which everybody knows must be ch,anged
before anything like the millenium, in which all Christians
pretend to believe, can be realized.  Step by step we have been
led on, from one thing to another, sometimes ourselves even,
fearing the results which might come, but ever being justified
by what has come, until we now stand on the very brink of
what we know, is to be a social carth(quaLke.  What this earthquake may destroy, who may be swallowed upl) in its yawning
chlasm, or whlethler we ourselves may be swept away, we do not
know; but that great good to the human faimily will come of
it, we feel assured. Our course has not always brought us
peace, happiness and comfort; on the contrary we have suffered almost all the terrors to which human life is subject.
Even now we stand under two criminal indictments, upon both
of which, if present public opinion, under the manipulations
of the church and press, could have its way, whether according to law we are, or are not guilty, we should be so adjudged
yet we rely upon truth as against all other powers that may be
conjured up to oppose it, and we know that it shall triumph,
even if we are crushed in the process.
"You must remember that many, if not most of you, today worship One, who in doing Ihis dutv to His Fathler, died
upon the cross.- None of tou imagine that it was a ple(asant
duty ie performed in thus yielding up Ihis life.  He did not
437
0 
DOES WHAT SHE BELIEVES RIGHT.
live selfishly for Himself, as I fear most of those who profess
Him so loudly, live for themselves.  He was despised of the au thorities in government, in philosophy and in religion.  His
associates were Magdalens, sinners and lowly fishermen; and
yet you now exalt Him to tihe throne of the Universe, and
pretend weekly at least, to bow ir homage before His shrine.
"I would not have it understood from this reference that my
sister and I presume to place ourselves as Christs of the pres ent generation.  On the contrary we wish it to be distinctly
understood, that we lay claim to nothing, except this: that
without fear or favor, we do what we believe to be right to do;
that we live the life which is the best we can live, and which
we are willing the whole world shall know, and that we obey
the directions of those whom we know to be wiser than we are.
Again I say you may credit us with insanity, if you will; but I
pray you, along with it, to also give us credit for honesty of
purpose.
"It has been freely circulated through the press, that we are
s,imply notoriety seekers.  Now let me ask  you to consider
calmly for a moment the probabilities of such a thing.  D)o
people usually invoke upon themselves continuous iS persecution,
merely to obtain notoriety? Do they consciously invoke the
terrible power of the press to crush them, to brand them be fore the world by every vile and detestable epithet known to
language; do they seek the hoots and jeers of the commonl
multitudes, and the sneers, and upturned noses of the select
few wherever they go; do they purposely, render themselves
friendless, and homeless and distressed in all possible and conceivable ways merely to become simply notorious? Nay, my
friends! none of you can honestly say you believe this.  It requires stern convictions of duty; unflinching allegiance to
purposes; undying devotion to principles, and an unswerving
faith to enable any one, and especially frail women, to endure
unto the end under all these trials.
*    *    *      *     *    *    *    *    *    e
"If one half that had been charged against us, had even a
shadow of foundation in fact, we should have been long ere
this, and justly too, in the Penitentiary.
" Early in this course, which has been marked out to us, we
sometimes almost fainted by the way-side. It was almost a
greater sorrow than we could endure, to see the whole public
press teeming with the mist outrageous and debasing items
419i 8 
THROUGH STOR. AND SUNSHINE.
about us. Every woman knows what it requires to endure even
the shadow of a reflection upon her private social life, to say
nothing about sweeping charges, destroying in the millds of
those, who fromn them alone, gather their information, and
form their conclusions, every sentiment of respect, and making
room for utter detestation an(i hate.?
'*It has been said that we are utterly insensible to these
things; but if the public knew what it hlas cost us in sleepless
nighits, ill heart-aches and laceration of soul, to be able to perform our duties, under tile heavy hand, that has at times been
laid upon us, you would wonder, not that we have maintained
ourselves, but that we could ever presume to think of living
at all.
*     *     *      *     *      *     *     *     *      *
"There are thousands upon thousands in this country, who
hate us with the most inveterate hatred; who think us the personification of every thing that is bad, who honestly believe
that no fate could be too cruel for us to endure, and yet not
one of these people, of their own knowledge, know a single fact
to justify their convictions.
*  *      *     *     *    *      *     *k    *
"Man proposes, but God disposes; and we are very willing
to act our part as best we may, and trust the rest to Him who
'm.keth even the wrath of man to praise Him.'  We have
cast ourselves into the gap broken in social despotism, and
there we shall stand firmly and proudly, until the war shall be
ended and the victory secured, even if it brings death to us.
And I say here and now: We shall be justified!
"Thus through storm and sunshine alike, we have steadfastly pursued our way, halting at nothing, but shoulder to shoulder, battling together, for what we believe to be the right and
the truth."
Miss Claflin was once married, but secured a divorce. For
several years she lived in the West and followed, under the
name of Tennessee Claflin, the calling of clairvoyant and mcdium, and the files of the Cincinnati papers in 1864 will exhibit
her card. The author has never placed any faith in the powers
of clairvoyants; but there is certainly possessed by this young
woman some power of siglhseeing that he cannot explain,
and he proposes to give an instance of it here.  After the bat
439
0 
THE A ZUTHOR T.HUUNDERSTR UCK.
tie of Resacca, Ga., in 1864, while examining the deserted rebel
works, the author was shot in the foot by a concealed rebel,
who had remained hid in the woods and desired to test his
musket before surrendering to the "Yanks."  He went back
to Cincinnati to recuperate fronm the wound.  While at the
hotel he became restless and wearied by confinement, and asked
the clerk where he could go to pass an hour pleasantly. A
visit to Tennessee Claflin, the seeress, was recommended. Calling a coach he was soon put down at her door and "hobbled
in on crutches." After receiving her fee, the fair seeress told
him much in his past life that he knew to be true and only
known to himself; but the most remarkable statement was
this:
"Why, Captain," said she, "you were not wounded in battle."
"How then did I receive it?" he asked in great astonishment.
"When the rebels evacuated their works and the Federal
army moved forward in pursuit, you lingered behind to look at
the works and was shot by a rebel concealed in a tree."
The author was thunderstruck. This woman at Cincinnati,
two weeks after the battle, had correctly described an event
certainly only known to him and the concealed rebel who drew
his "bead" upon him that morning.  This is mentioned here
merely as proof that the woman has some means of "guessing"
correctly. The author has never spoken to her since that day
in 1864, but has frequently seen her in the metropolis dodging
into brokers' offices and newspaper sanctuaries, and discovered
in that vivacious little creature "Tennessee Claflin, the Cincinnati Clairvoyant."
0
440
0 
CHAPTER XXIV.
HENRY C. BOWEN, IlIS MERCANTILE CAREER AS THE SENIOR MEM  BER OF THE FIRM OF BOWEN, MICNAMEE & CO.-HIS CAREER AS
AN EDITOR AND PUBLISHER-TIlE CHARGE TIIAT ItE WAS TIIE
FIRST PERSON TO CIRCULATE CHARGES AGAINST TIlE PASTOR.
HE  gentleman who, throughout the  entire  excitement,
T;  
figured more or less prominently in it, and who it is alleged
was the first to circulate rumors of his pastor's criminality, is
about sixty-fotur years of age.   "He  was," says a writer,
"formerly one of the foremost dry goods merchants in New
York, being the senior partner of the house of Bowen, McNamee
& Co., who many years ago did business  down Broadway,
below the Astor House, afterward in a splendid block erected
on the site of the old Broadway Theatre.  He  was from its
foundation one of the pillars of Plymouth church, and probably
was more largely instrumental than any other one man, in
securing the services of Mr. Beecher, as its pastor.  He was
always a radical abolitionist, lhaving received his business,
political and religious training firom the Tappans, who were
among the pioneers in the anti-slavery movement in New York.
Ils house at one time had a large southern trade, but when
sectional strife was at its flood, the names of Bowen, McNamee
& Co. were among the first to be put uplon what was called the
" black list," and southern merchants were emphatically warned
not to patronize them.  They accepted the situation, and boldly
unfurled a banner bearing the following inscription" Our Goods
and not our?- Princl)les, foreale."  Mr. Bowen  was one of the
19*  441
t
0 
BO WEZ~ WA.LKED THE PL,AN1K.
founders of the Independent and it is not too much to say that
no paper in this country in its inception, ever had such a bril liant array of talent, editorial, and as stated contributors as
this.  Its responsible editors were, Rev. Joshua Leavitt, Rev.
Geo. B. Cheever, D. I)., Rev. Leonard Bacon, D. D. and Rev.
R. S. Storrs, Jr. D. D.  Among  its stated contributors  were
-lenry Ward Beecher, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Chlas. L. Brace,
Rev. F. D. Hutntington, (at that time a popular  Unitarian
clergyman in Boston,) Edna Dean Proctor, and  emany others.
Mr. Bowen was the commercial editor, and filrnished, or was
responsible for the " sinews of war."   During the financial
storm of 1857, "a feature" in the business department of the
Independent, was the publication weekly, of a list of failures.
Many commercial and mercantile houses protested against this
feature, but the commercial editor with characteristic firmness
adhered to the plan, until one fine day the old, and as was
supposed, wealthy firm of Bowen, McNamee & Co., had to
"walk the plank" whereupon it was suddenly discovered that
the publication of the list of failures was not expedient.  It
came to pass, in the course of human events that Bowen abandoned mercantile pursuits, and finally became (after the retirement of Mr. Richards) the publisher of the Independent,
and is now publisher, proprietor, and, in name at least, editor.
He is a shrewd, sharp, business man, but some of his transactions, in relation to the Beecher scandal, and his summary dismissal of Mr. Tilton from his position as editor of the Independent
and the "Brooklyn Union," are, to say the least a little questionable.
Some two years ago Mr. Bowen disposed of his interest in
the Brooklyn Union and now devotes his entire attention to
the Independent.
0
6
442 
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I 
CHAPTER XXV.
MR. BEECHER UNBOSOM-%S IIIlMSELF TO TIlE COMMtITTEE,-IlS VERY
REMARKABLE EXPLANATION OF IIIS REl,LATIONS TO TILITON ANI)
IJIS FAM3IILY, ALLEGES ThIIAT HE WAS BLACKMAII,I,l) 1,Y TIJ,T()N
AND  MIOULTON, DENIES ANY CRIMlINALITY WITTII MIIS. TIIT,ON
AND GIVES MIOST ASTOUNDING  EXl,X'I,ANATIONS  OF TIlE LET  TEl,RS CONFESSING SOIFME SIN IN TIIE PIREMISES.
HE  evening MIr. Iloulton's statement was  being read in
T                                                        z
New York and Brooklyn for the first time, tlhere was a
bulsy scene at the residence when the examinlti(on.was lhel(l.
That evening tlirty or forty stenographers were  engtoged(l in
preparing for the press  Mr. Beeclier's statement in defense,
which is given here.  It was published on the ensuigllo  imoIing (: —
Geitleeieit of the Conmmittee: In the statement addresse(  to
the public on the 22(1 of July last I gav-e an expl)licit, conl)irehensive and solemn (lenial to the charge made  by Tlieo(ldoic
Tilton against mne.  That (ldenial I now rel)peat a(nd realilrn.  I
also stated in that comlnmunication that I sholuld al)l)ear befolre
voer colmmittee with a more detailed statelmlent a(nd exl)lanation of the facts in thle case. For this tlhe timle lhas now coiIe.
Four years ago Tleoldore Tilton fell fromn one of the proud(lest
editorlial chl'tirs in America, where lie 1el)resented( tlhec cause of
reli(ion, hlutnanit- a(nd patriotism, a(nd in a few months tleeafter became the associate a(nd rel)resentative of Victoria Woo(llthull a(nd the friend of lher strange course.  l1y his lollies lihe
was bankrupt in reputation, in occupation  and( in resources.
The interior histori  of wllielI am now to give a brief outline,
is the history of his attempts to so empl)loy ine as to re-instate
443 
or v\irtuie.  It lesci ibes myi3 rep~entancee ov\er ev-ils hefa,ingiif Iimii,
of'whichl I H as iiadle to believec mvnself' the cauitse, iiy persev-el'mg(- and( firieni(IIN (lesl~IringD~  efflorts to sav-\e Iii~iii an(l Iis fml
bv1 ainv sac'ihice of m1INself, not ati-solutely~ -iI)nr~    lle, and m
g)rowNing( cone ~ictionl that hiis p~erpletua,,l follies andi( bltindercis ren   derdlhs r'ICAel,o ci  impossible.  1 cqin now see tlia-t lie is andl
hias b-eeni fr-omi the b~e( iniiiiiio of the dlitliculty-, a sellishi'nii rck
le~ss sclheiier, puriisuingi a l)lalti of niiliigledl goodi andi life,ail(l
,"ea-%ing'y al-)ou~t mie a nietwoi-l( of suIspiciouIs m-isundl~erstandlIing's,
plIots anid lies to wiichi'fly owni inniocenit wioi-(Is ani(l acts, niay
ev-ei in-m thloti-lits of kindneii(ss towNard( himii hae   eeni mad,te  to
conitribu~te.  Thlese suiccessivec viewis of himii muiist  be k,ep~t ini
miiin(l to exp~laini myii courise tlhroughl the last fouri -e,,irs.  Ilia,t
I w%Nas blindi( so longo, as to theo real iiiotiv-e of thec iihitigu-te going
on aroun.i(I mie wNas (Tue partly, to my13 ownNi ov-erwhleluiiing' I)titlic
eng-ag-emienit S, andi( partly- to miy  compillete sui-ieii(iler of' tlhis
allar anid all p~aper~s andic questions conniectedi withi it inito the
iani(ls of'iri. -~loiiltoii, wh-lo was  initenisely~,onifidenit lie couldc
mraniagec it SuICCeSSfuLlyN.  I suffered muitchi })iit I iiiqtiiiredI little,
SIr1. illoultoii w   las iary to mne  of lnlr.'I'iltoni's e,o)iflliidenes ini
him,i rel)oi-tiiig- to mie occasionially ini a -eneric,tl way SAi-. ITiltonl's
word~s and( ouitbr-e,dls of'passioni only,is -in element  of trotible
wichiil lie "-as al.)le to conitrol, aind as add(itionial  proofs, of' the
wisdloti of leav-ing~ it to himii.  IHis commn dr.ii  of' the situa-ltioii
seemiedI to mec at the tiiue complete, iiniiiier-sed,is I wnas ini incssanit cares anid duties, andc onily too gl-a(l to hec relievNed fi'omi
considlering the detail aiicfwretched t,complications, the orio-in
anid fact of whichi ren'ained, in- spite of all friendly intervention, 
riatlit, thiolo'h m   flieids, be use(d to extract fi'5-o  Mlr. ownCll
7,.000, the  aimounit of a claidm in (isp)ute  )etw een  tilmcn.  A
cleck for th'ltt stum in hanul, 5ir. Tilton siged( an iogreeiCmeit of
)e.ace anld concord, not drawn  bt me, but'ccel)tei  by l,e -ns
siincere.   The Gol(lei 2-1,e la(l been staite(l, lhe lit(l the ca)it-tl
to cairry  it on for a \while.   lie was sure that lie w.ls to head  a
great social revoltution.
AWith rIetLurliing p)rosperity hle  ad( alpplarently no ogiiefs williih
cohl(l not be covere(l b- his signature to the articles  of )petce,
yet the chainge in that covelialit, miade 1)by him i)foi)rec siogning it,
an(l relpresented to ime as necessary mnerely to re(lieve liiiii fion
tile impul)tationi of' llaving orig'inated( an(  circIla te   certaiin ol(
~tii(l sli,celess slalnders alt)oiout llC, wereC In'ln(lce, I'S  Ow l)l)crs,
to leave himf free for future  opl)erationls ul)oll lme and   gilst
ine.
So longi as be vwas or tihougit lie was on0 the road( to a new sIC(css,
Iiis con(ltict toward m( e was as friendly i(s h1e Iiknew how to ln.dle
it.  Ilis assiiilmptioni  of suil)eriority an(, natganility, aind  is
p)atronizilong mai1 iecr Iwere trilles at whlich  l ti c(Mlaltblr(l to sillil(,
a1(d whiechl  I ))lre withl the greater llumiiity, since I still rCtlille(
tlhe profound imllt)iressioin mad(e tu)on ime, aIs expl)line(I in tieo
fo)llowingi narrative: Thlat I lha(l b)een a catuse of overwlieliiiiii
disaster to limi, and  that  his coil)lete restorationI to 1i}ilii
standing andcl househol(l  hal)piness  was a  relralatrioll  jIstly
re(uire(l of me, and tlhe only one whichl  I could ilake; bu)t witlh
a peculiar geniuts for blunders, he fell almost at every ste1) into
newv coipl)lications and diflililties, and( in every stlclh instanlce
it was his policy to bring( coercion to beart ulpon my honior, imy 
BEECHER KiVO WS HiS IVN_Y CE~CE.
conscience and my affections, for the purpose of procuring his
extrication at my expense.  Theodore Tilton knew me  well.
li-e has said again and aoain to hlis friends that if they wished
to gain anly iniflutence over me they must work upon the syml)athetic side of my nature.  To this lie llas addressed himself
steadily for four years, using as ta lever without scruples my
attachment to my friends, to my family, to his own househlol(d,
and even my old affection for himself.  Not blind to llis fault,
but resolved to look on him as favorably and hopefully as l)ossible, and ignorant of his deep malice. I labored earnestly,
even desperately, for his salvation.  For four years I have been
trying to make the man as great as he conceived himself to be,
to restore to prosperity and public confidence one who, in the
nmidst of my eflbrts in his behalf, patronized disreputable people and doctrines, refused, when I besought him to separate
himself firom them, and ascribed to my ag,ency the increasi(ng
ruin which he was persistently bringing, upon himself, and which
I was doing my utmost to avert.  It was hard to do any-thilg
for such a man.  I might as well have tried to fill a seive with
wate r.
In the latter stages of the history he actually incited and
created difficulties, apparently for no other purpose than to
drive me to firesh exertions.  I reluse(ld to endorse his wild
views and associates. The best I could d(lo was to speak well
of him, mention those good( qualities and abilities which I still
believe him to possess in his higher moods, and kleepiing), silence
concerning the evil things which I was assured( antd believed
had been greatly. exaggerlated by public report.  I woul(l not
think him so bad as my friends dlid.  I trusted to the cgerms of
good which I thlought still lived in him.
On the appearance of the first attack from Tilton, I immedliately called for a thoroulgh examilnation by a committee of my
church.  I am not responsible for delays in the publicity of the
details.  All the hlarm I have so long dreaded has come to
pass. The time has arrive(l when I can frieely- speak in vin(lication of myself.  During four years sintgulaily burdened with
labor, I find myself in a p)osition where I know my innocence
without being able to prove it.  Mr. Beeclher says Tilton was
first known to him as a reporter of his sermons, a(nd lie gives
his history up to the time when Tilton became his assistant
editor of the Independent, in which relation hlie, Beecher, became
greatly attached to him. eDuring vacations, while my family
were at my farm, I became so familiar with the families of my
446 
REGARDS TILTON'S SITUATION CRITICAL.  447
friends and their children, tl.at I went in and out daily as in my
own house.,lMr. Tilton urged( me to do the same at his house,
spl)eaking extravagantly of his wife's esteem for me.  On returning fromn Enogland I paved the way for him to become thle sole
editor of the Iidclepenldett.  The v-iolent assault on me by Tilton in 1866, onl account of my Cleva-iand letter, )iokle off luv
connection with the Idi(leled(Ieatt.  The social relations with
Tilton continued very kindl- until 1868 and 1869, bult on political matters there was a coolness.
During all the time of the visits to Tilton's house there never
was the slightest hint from him or any member of his family of
any dissatisfaction with my familiar relations to his household.
I gave copies of my books to MIrs. Tilton, sent flowers fromn my
farm to a dozen families, which she occasionally shared, and
only once gave her a present, a brooch of little value, as one of
the souvelirs of my European trip.  Beechler refers to  the
affection shown him by the children of Tilton, and Mrs. Tilton
seemedcl an affectionate mothQr, a devoted wite looking up to
her husband. So far firom sul)l)osing that my presence an(l
influence was alienating Mlrs. Tilton from her family relatiolns,
I thlought on the contrary that it was giving her strength and
encouraging her to hold fast upon a man evidently sliding into
danigerous associations and liable to be immersed by unexampled self-conceit.  I regarded Mr. Tilton as in a very critical
period of his life, and used to think it fortunate he had good
home influences about him.  During the late years of our
fi'iendslhip MIrs. Tilton spoke very mnournfully to me about the
tendency of her husband to great laxity of doctrine in religion
and morals.  She gave me  to understand that he denied the
divinity of Christ, the inspiration of the scrilptures andl most
articles of the orthodox faithl, while his views as to the sanctity
of the marriage relation were utindergoing constant chlange in
the direction of free love.  In the latter part of July, lMrs.
Tilton was sick, and at her request I visited her.   She seemed
much depressed, but gave me no hint of any troul)le hlaving ir'cference to me.  I cheered her as best I could, and prayed with
her just before leaving.  This was our last interview before the
trouble broke out in the family.  I describe it because it was
the last, and its character has a bearing, upon a latter part of
my story.  Concerning all my other visits, it is surfeicint to say
that at no interview which ever took place between Mrs. Tilton
and myself did any thing occtiP which might not have occurred
with perfect propriety between a brother and sister,' between a
t 
.SMRS. BEECEER INDIGNAT.
father and child, or between a man of honor and the wife of hllis
dearest fiiend, nor did anything ever happen which she and I
sougaht to conceal from her husband.
After griving reasons for the removal of Tilton from the edclitorial chair of thle Itdep,)e1idexit, Mr. Beecher, proceeded: After
Mr. Tilton's return from the WVst ill December, 1870, a -youngI
girl whom MArs. Tilton had taken into the f,iily, educated nnd(
treate(d like her own child, (her testimony I un(lerstand is before the committee) was sent to me writhl an urgent request that
I would visit MAlrs. Tilton at her mothler's.  She said that MIrs.
Tilton had left her home and gone to her mother's in conseqiuence
of the ill-treatment of her husband.   She then gave me an account of what she had seen, of the cruelty and abuse on the part
of the husband that shocked me; and yet more, when with
downcast look she said that Mr. Tilton had visited her clhamber
in the night, and sought her consent to his wishes.  I imilmediately visited Mrs. Tilton at her mother's, and received an
account of her home life and the despotism of her husband,
and of the managmeniet of a woman whom hle had made housekeel)er, which seems like a nightmare dream.  The question
was whether she should go back or separate forever from her
husband.  I asked l)ermission to bring my wife to see them,
whlose judgmcent in all domestic relations I thought better than
my own, and accordingly a second visit was made.  The result
of that interview was that my wife was indignant toward Mr.
Tilton, and declared no consideration on earth could induce her
to remain an hour with a man who had treated her with an
litindreth part of such insult and cruelty.  I felt as strongly as
sh did, but hesitated as I always dclo at giving advice in favor
of' a sep)aration.  It was agreed that my wife should give her
final advice at another visit.  The next clday, when ready to go,
she wished a final word, but there was company, and the children were present, and so I wrote on a scrap of paper, "I inclile
to think your view is rilght, and that a separation and settlement
of supll)port will be the wisest, and that in his present desperate
state her presence near him is far more likely to produce hlatred(
than her absence." Mrs. Tilton dclid not tell me that my l)resence had anything to do with this trouble, nor did she let me
know that on the July previous he had extorted from her a
confession of excessive affection for me.  On the evening of
I)ecenl)er 27th, 1870, Mr. Bowen, on his way home, called at
nmy house and handed m  a letter from Mr. Tilton.  It was as
nearly as I can renumber in the following terms:
448 
TILTON PEM.OVED FROM THE 1NDE.ENDENT 449
Henry Ward Beecher: For reasons which you explicitly
know, and which I forbear to state, I denmand that y-ou withdraw from the pulpit and quit Brooklyn as a residence.
[Signedl]                               TIIEODORE TILTON.
I read(l it over twice and turned to Bowen and said, "This
man is crazy, this is sliheer insanity," and other like words.
Bowen  professed to be i,gnorant of the contents, and I haldcd
him  the letter to read.  We  at once fell into a conversation
about Mr. Tilton, during( which Bowen stated that Tilton had
been reduced fromn ali editor of the Indeplendent to a contributor,
because his religious and social views were ruining the paper,
the conversation resulting in the opillion that Bowen could not
retain relations with Tilton.  Bowen  derided Tilton's letter
and promised his friendship to Beeclher, and Tilton was subsequently removed from the Union.  Beecher says he felt unhappy
att Tilton's disaster, as his affairs did not promise that sympathy and strength which makes one's house as mine has been in
times of adversity, a refugre and tower of defence.
Mr. Beechler continues: On the 29th of December, 1870, Mr.
Tilton having learned that I had replied to his threatening letter by expressing such anl opinion of hilm as to set Mr. Bowen
finally against him and bring him face to face with immediate
ruin, extorted fiom his wife, then suffering from a severe illness,
a document incriminating me and prepared an elaborate attack
uponl me.  Onl Tuesday eveningi, Dec. 30thi, 1870, about seven
o'clock, Francis D. Moulton called at my house, and, with intense earnestness, said, "  I wish you to go with me and see Mr.
Tilton."  I replied that I could not then, as I wats just going
to my prayer meeting.  With the most positive manner hle said,
"You must go;  somebody else will take care of the meeting."
I went with him, not knowing what trouble agitated himn, but
vaguely thlinking that I millght now learn the solution of the
recent threatening letter.  Onl the way I asked what was the
reason of this visit, to which he replied that Mr. Tilton would
inform me, or words to that effect.  Onl entering his house, Mr.
Mloulton  locked the door, saying something about not being
interrupted.  Hle requested me to go into the front chamber
over the parlor.  I was under the impression that Mr. Tilton
was going to pour out upon me his anger for colleaguing with
Bowen and for the advice of separation given to his wife.  I
wished Mr. Moulton to be wit* me as a witness, but he insisted
I should go by myself.-:Mr. Tilton received me coldly, but
0 
B7 EECHER THTUND ERSTR TUCK.
canly.  After a word or two, standing in front of me with a
memorandumt in his hand, he began a set oration.  He charged
me in substance with acting for a long time in an unfriendly
spirit, that I had sought his downfall, had sl)pread injurious
rumors about him, was using my place and influence to under mine him, had a(dvised Mlr. Bowen to dismiss him, and muich
more that I cannot remember.  He then declared that I had
injured him in his family relations, had joined with his mother in-law in producing discord in his house, advised a separation,
and alienated his wife's affections fromi him, h:ad led her to love
me more than any living being, had corrupted her moral nature,
and had taught her to be insincere, lying and hypocritical, and
ended by charging that I had made wicked proposals to her.
Until he reached this I had listened with the same contempt,
under the impression that he was attempting to bully me. But
with the last charge he produced a paper purporting to be a
certified statement of a previous confession made to him by his
wife of her love for me, and that I had made proposals to her
of an impure nature. He said that this confession had been
made to him in July, six months previous, that his sense of
honor and affection would not permit any such document to remain in existence, that he had b)urned the original and should
now destroy the only Coply, and he then tore the paper into
smnall pieces. If I had been shlocked( at such a stateinent, I was
absolutely thunderstruck when he closed the interview by requesting me to repair at once to his house, where he said Elizabeth was waiting for me, and learn from her lips the truth of his
stories, in so far as they concerned her.  This fell like a thunderbolt upon me.  Could it be possible that his wife, whom I
had regarded as a type of moral goodness, should have made
such false and atrocious statements, and yet if she lhad( not how
would he dare to send me to her for confirmation of his charges?
I went forth like a street walker; I believe Moulton went with
me to the door of Tilton's house. Thile iotiskeeper (the same
woman of whom Mrs. Tilton has compl)lained(l) seemed to have
been instructed by him, for she evidently expected me, and
showed me at once to irs. Tilton's room.  Mrs. Tilton lay
upon her bed, white as marble, with closed eyes as in a trance,
tand with her hands upon her bosom, palmn to paln, like one in
prayer.  She made no motion and gave no sig(rn of recognition
of my presence; I sat down near her and said, " Elizabeth,
Theodore has been makin.oery serious charges against me and
sent me to you for onfirmation."  She made no reply or sign,
450 
THEIR ALIlEN LOVES.
yet it was plain she was conscious and listening. I repeated
some of his statements, that I had brought discord to thle anmily,
had alienated her from him, had sought to break ill) the tfmily,
usurped his influence, and then as well as I could I a(ldded lhe
said that I had made improper suggestionis to her, and that she
had admitted the fact to him last July.  I said "'Elizabetlh,
have you made such statements to him?"  She made no answer.
I repeated the question.  Tears ran dowin her cheeks and she
very slightly bowed her head in acquiescence.  I said you cannot mean you have stated all that hle has charged.  Shlle opened
her eyes and( began in a slow and feeble manner to explain how
sick she had been, how wearied out withl iIlp)ortunity, that lie
had confessed his own alien loves and said lie could not bear
to think that she was better than lie, that she mighlt win himl to
reformation if she would confess that she had loved(l me more
than him, and that they would repent and go on with fulture
concord.  I cannlot give her language, but only the tenor of
her representations. I received themi impatiently. I spoke to
her in the shortest lang(uage of her course. I said to her, have
I ever made any improper advances  to you?  She said no.
Then I asked "Whv dlid you say so to your husband?  She
seemed deeply)l distressed; "my friend (by that designation she
almost always called me) I am  sorry-, but I could not help it.
What could I do?"  I told her she could state in writing wll'at
she had now told me.  She beckoned for her writing materials,
which I handed from  the secretary standing near by, and she
sat up in bed and wrote a brief counter statement in a sort of
postscript.  She denied explicitly that I had ever offered any
improper solicitations to her, that being the only charge made
against nme by iMr. Tilton, or sustained by the statement about
the confessions which he had read to me. I dreamed of no
worse charge at that time. The mere thought that hle could
make it and could have extorted any evidence on which to base
it was enough to take away my senses.  Neither my consciousness of its utter falsehood nor Mrs. Tilton's retraction of her
part in it could remove the shock firom my heart anld lead.
Indeed her admission to me that she had stated under any ciicuinstances to her husband so wicked a falsehood(, was the
crowning blow of all.  It seemed to me as if she was going to
die, that her mind was overthrown, and that I was in some
dreadful way mixed up in it and might be left by her dealh
with this terrible accusation l-nging over me.  I returned lilke
one in a dream to Moulton's house, where I said very little andi
451
0 
42INTER VIEW WITH MO ULTON.
soon went home.   It has been said that I confessed guilt and
expressed remorse.  This is utterly false.  Is it likely that witlh
3its. Tilton's retraction in my pocklet I should thus stultify myselt'?  On the next day at eveningi, Il. MIoutlton called at imy
house and caine ul) into my bed(ioom.  He said that liMrs. Tilton, on her husband's retlin to her, atter our interview, had
ilnformed him what she lhad (ldone -and that I ha(d her retraction.
lotiolton expl)ostulate(d with le, and said the retraction, under
the cireuiiisttlices, woildl not  mend matters, but only awakenl
fresh discord between husband and wif'e, and do great iiijury to
Ahrs. Tilton without helping me.  MIrs.  Tilton, he said, had
already recalled in writing the retraction made to me,  and, of
course, there might be no end to these contradictions.   Meanwhile Tilton ha(d dlestroye(l his wife's first letter, aeknlowle(,dgilng the confession, and  1r. Monlton claimied that 1 lhad taken
a mean advantage and made  dishonorable use of Theodore's
request that I should visit her, in obtaining firom her a written
contradiction to the document not in existence.  He  said all
difficulties could be settled without any such papers, and that I
ougholt to give it up.  He  was un(ler great excitement.   He
madle no verbal threats, but lie opened his overcoat, and with
some eml)hatic remarks, showed a pistol, which afterwards lhe
took out and left on the bureau near which lhe stood.  I gave
the paper to himn, and( after a few moments talk hle left.
Beecher then rlefers to the greatt distress of mind caused to
him by5- the action of AMrs. Tilton in this matter, but finally
supposed she had been overborne by sickness, shattered in
mind and no longer responsible for her acts.  His soul went
out to her in p)ity.  Ile blamed himiself for iniprudenlc(e alcnd
want of foresighlt, for lie thought it was the result of her undue
affection for himn, all( lie could have boi-iie any l)unislnieni t if
that poor clil( could but emerge from this cloud(.  He ju(gedl
firom Tilton's anger and( ftiry that the clharge made by him and
supported by the accusation of his wife, was to be publicly
pressed against him, which mi,ght result in great disaster, if
not at)solute ruin.  HIe considered his name, his clhurch, everythil(r connected with him  involved.  He  say-s, " AIMy earn(est
desire to av-oid public accusation and the evils  necessarily
flowing firom it has been one of the leadingi motives tlhat must
explain my action during these three or folur years."  AlMoutlton
visited Beecher at this time, finding him in a sore and distressed
condition.  AMoulton seeie(l colivinced( that Beecher had been
seeking Tilton's dl(wnfall; had leagued with Bowen against
452
0 
NO ULTO' MAKES XMEM'ORANDA.
him, and by advice had nearly destroyed his family.  Beecher
savs hlie needed no arguments to induce him to do or s'a aIything to remedy the injulry of which he believed he had been
the active cause.  VIoulton assured Beecliher of Titoh's puiity
and faithfulness to his wife.  Beechler felt convicted of slander
in its meaniest form, becamie intensely excited, felt his mind in
danger of giving away, and pouring forth his heart in uinrestraiiied grief a(nd bitterness of self accusation, but d(enyinany intentional -wrong.  Al olton said itf Tilton could  feel
assured of Beechler's friendliness, there would be no trouble in
making reconciliation.  I gave liiiii leave to state to Theodore
nmy feelings.  Hle proposed that I should write a lettel.  I declined, but said that hle could report our interview.  Ile then
prepared to make a memorandum of the talk, and sat down at
my table and took downl, as I supposed, a condensed report of
my talk, for I went on still poulring out my wounded feelings
over this great desolation in Tiltoii's fanmily.  It was not a (lietation of sentence after sentence, hlie a mere amanuensis and I
conposiing for him.  Alr. Moulton was  puittingi into his own
shape part of that whichl I was saying in my owni manner with
profuse exl)lanlations.  This paper of Mr. Al oulton's was a mere
mnemorandum of p)oints to be used by himi in setting fortlh myll
feelings.  That it contains matter and l)oints derived fioimi  me
is without doubt, but thley were )put with sentences by him  and
expressed as lhe understood themn, not as my words, but as hints
of myn fitgures and letters, to be used bv? him in conversilig with
Alr. Tilton.  Hle dlid not read the paper to me, nor d(lid I rea(
it, nor have I ever seen it or hleard( it read that I remember,
until the )publication of M:r. Tilton's recent documents, and
now reading it I see in it thooughts that point to the nmatter of
my discourse, but it is not my pal)per, nor are those my selntences
nor is it a correct report of what I sai(d.  It is a mere strinig( of
hinits, hastily made by an ipl)rac(tised writer as helps to his
memory in representing to Ai-. Tilton how  I feel toward(l hiS
family.  If more than this be claimed, if' it be set forthl as in
any proper sense my letter, I then disown it and dellounce
some of its sentences, and )particularly that in which I am miade
to say that I had(l obtained aIIrs. Tilton's folrgiveness.  I never
could have said that, even iii substance.   I lhad(l not obtained
nor asked any- forgiveness from her, and nobo(ldy pretended( tlhat
I had done so.  Neither coul(fI ever have said that I humbled
myself before Tilton ag before God(l, except in the sense that
both to God ancl to the man I thought I had deeply injured I
453
0 
BEECIIER SUPPOSED IT DESTRIOYED.
humbled myself, as I certainly did; but it is useless to analyze
a paper prepared as this was.  The remainder of my plain
statement concerning it will be its best comment. This document was written upon three separate half sheets of large letter
paper.  After it was finished Mr. MIoulton asked me if I would
sign it. I said no. It was not my letter. Hle replied that it
would have more weight if I would in some way indicate that
he was authorized to explain my sentiments.  I took my pen
and at some distance below  he writing and upon the lower
margin, I indicated that I had committed the document in
trust to Mr. Moulton.  I signed the line thus written by me.
A few words more as to its future fate.  Mr. Moulton of his
own accord said that after using it he would in two or three
days bring the memorandum back to me, and hlie cautioned me
about disclosing in any) way that there was a difficulty between
MIr. Tilton and me, as it would be injurious to Tilton to have
it known that I had quarrelled with him as well as to me to
have rumors set afloat. I did not trouble myself about it until
more than a year afterwards, when Tilton began to write up
his case, (of which hereafter,) and was looking up documents.  I
wondered what was in the old memorandum and desired to see
it for greater certainty.  So one day I suddenly asked Moulton
for that memorandum and said, " You promised to return it to
me."  He seemed confused for a moment and said, "Did I?"
"Certainly," I answered.  He replied that the paper had been
destroyed, and on my putting the question again, "that paper
was burnt up long ago."
During the next two years, in various conversations of his
own accord, he spoke of it as destroyed. I had never asked
for nor authorized the destruction of this paper, but I was not
allowed to know that that document was in existence, until a
distinguished editor in New York within a few weeks past
assured me that Mr. Moulton had shown him the original, and
that he had examined my signature to be sui'e of its genuineness.  I know there was a col)py of it since this statement was
in preparation.  WVhile I reject this memorandum as my work,
or an accurate condensation of my statements, it does undoubtedly represent that I was in profound sorrow and that I blamed
myself with great severity for the disasters of Tilton's family,
and I had not then the light I now have.  There was much
that weighed heavily onfny heart and conscience, which now
weighs only onI my hear. Soon after this I met Tilton at
Moulton's house. tither Moulton was sick, or was very late
454
f 
BEECHER'S LETTERS.
in rising, for he was in bed.  The subject of my feelings and
conduct towards Tilton was introduced. I made a statement
of the motives under  which I had acted in counseling Bowen
of my feelings in regard to Tilton's family disclaiming with
horror the thought of wrong, and expressing my desire to do
whatever  lay in human  power to'remedy any evil I had
occasioned, and to reunite his family. Tilton was silent and(
sullen. HIe playedl the part of an injured man, but Moulton
said to Mr. Tilton with intense emphasis, that is all that gentleman can say, etc.  You ought to accept it.  It is an honorable basis of reconciliation. This he repeated two or three
times, and Tilton's countenance cheered up under MAoulton's
strong talk.  We shook hands and parted in a friiendly way.
Not very long afterwards Tilton asked me to his house, and
said that he sliould be glad to have the good old times renewed.
I do not remember whether I ever took a meal after this under
his roof, but I certainly was invited by him to renew my visits
as formerly. I never resumed my intimacy with the family,
but once or twice I went there soon after my reconciliation
with Tilton, and at his request. Beecher gives an account of a
reconciliatory scene at Tilton's house in the presence of Tl'ilton's
wife, which Beecher now thinks was for efliect in order that he
(Beecher) could be used to get money out of Bowen for Tilton,
which the latter claimed was due him.  Moulton lost no opportunities of presenting the kindest views of Tilton, but complained that Mlrs. Tilton did not trust her husband nor Moulton,
and the latter urgedl Beecher to inspire confidence in Mrs.
Tilton in Moulton and lead her to take kinder views of Theodore.  A lettelr with such intent was accordingly written to her
Feb. 17th, 1871.  A copy was filrnished the committee. Beecher
said he had no recollection of seeing or hearing read a letter of
Tilton's of Feb. 7th, 1872. In explanation of saying in a letter
to Mrs. Tilton that he did not expect to be alive many dclays,
Beecher states he felt as if he would be struck with apoplexy
for the past fifteen years. Tilton dropped from the church roll.
Beeclier then details the action of the church relative to exlpunging Tilton's name from the rolls, and said that in the Woodthull
Advertiser of May, 1871, was an article shadowing an account
of a disturbance in Tilton's family, but the full account was
delayed till November, 1872, ostensibly by Tilton's influence.
During this time both Moul]pn and Tilton made a heroine of
Woo(1hull, and invited her to their houses. Beecher had three
interviews with Woodhull, at the last of which she threatened
455
(I 
.HE ERRED I JUDG.,VENT.
him because he declined presiding at one of her lectures in
Steinway I-lall, and both Tilton and Moulton made most strenlious exertions to induce Beecher to idlentify himself with her.
She was denounced heartily by Beecher as thle centre of everythingi that was foul or vile, ail he persistently resisted all
efforts to i(lentify himself with  her.  Beeclief says lie gave a
letter to Aloutilton -hielch  lrs. Tilton  vwrote him, in Nwhichl she
states that her husbandl and herself were going West, and
expresses the hope that the l)proposed interview between Tilton
,and Beecher would be productive of good.   This letter 5[oulton
would  not allow Beeclher to see.  Beecher then gives the
accounit of the tril)artite treaty of concord, peace and amnesty
between them, Bowen l)aying Tilton $7,000, claimed.  Subseq(itticentl  when the Woodhlills had endeavolre(d to obtain money
out of Peecher and( his witfe, that woman published her version
of the Tilton scandal, with which Tilton was believed to be in
connivance. Beecher refers to letters written to him, one of
which was to Aloilton, in which lie refers to the apl)proacil of
death.  Hle says it has been printed bv Tilton in garbled form.
The tril)artite treaty was against l1eecher's jtidgmenit, and was
a patcheld-ul) peace.  He  continues: That I have previously
erred in jtudigment with this perplexed case, no one is more
conscious than I am.   I chose the wrong( path and accepted
disastrous guidance in the beginning, and have indeed traveled
on a rough and ragged e(ldge in my p)rolonged efforts to suppress
this scandal which has at last spread so much desolation through
the land.  I cannot admit that I erred in desiring to keel) these
matters out of sight.  In this resl)ect I appeal to you and to
all Christian men to judge whether almost any personal sacrifice ought not to have been made rather than suffer the morals
of an entire community, esl)ecially the young, to be corrupted
by the filthy details of scandalous falsehood daily iterated and
amplified for the gratification of thle impure curiosity, and tile
demoralization of every child that is old enough to read.  The
full nature of this history requires that one more fact should be
told(l, especially as Mr. Tilton has invited it.  Money has been
ol)tained firom me in the course of these affairis in considerable
siums, but I did not at first look upon the suggestions that I
should contribute to Mr. Tilton's wants as savoring of blackmail.  This did not occur to me until I had paid perhaps $2,000.
Afterwards I contributedat one time $5,000.  After the money
had been paid over in five $1,000 bills, to raise which I mortgaged the house I live in, I felt very much dissatisfied with
456 
COIVCL USIO.  OF HIS D)EFEATCE.
myself about it.  Finally a square demand and threat made to
me by my confidential fi'iendl, that if $5,000 were not paid, Tilton's charges would be laid before the pl)lublic.  This, I saw at
once, was blackmail in its boldest form, ntld never paid one
cent of it; but challenged and requested the fulllest exp)osure.
]~ut, after the summer of 1873, I became inwardlyr satisfied that
Tilton was all inherently and inevitably ruiiined man. I no
longer trusted either his word or his honor.  I came to feel
that his kindness was but a snare, andl his pl'ofessions of friendship treacherous.  He did not mean well by me nor by his own
household; but I suffered all the more on this account, as he
had grown up) under m- influence and my cihur ci, and I could
not firee myself from a certain (degree of resl)onsibilitv for his
misdoings, such as visits a father.  l]eecher tlhen gives the
action of the church relative to the proceedings of the examining cominlittee.  Beecher states he wrote a letter of resigniation,
but did not send it in, as he considered it a self-sacrifice which
would not stop the trouble, but he sihowved it to MIr. Moulton,
and thinks possibly Moulton copie(d it.  Beecher has the original.  Beecher conclucides as follows:
Gentlemen of the Conmmiittee: —In the note requesting your
apl)ointment I asked that you should make a fiil investigation
of all sources of information.  You are witnesses that I have
in no way influenced or initerfered with your proceedings or
duties.  I have wished the investigatioli to be so searching
that nothing could unsettle its results.  I have nothing to gain
bv any policy of siupp)ression or compromise.  For four years I
have borne and suffered enough.  I will not go a step further.
I will be firee. I will not walk under the rod or yoke. If any
man would do me a favor let him tell all lie knows now.   It is
not mine to lay- down the law of honor in regard to the use of
other persons' confidential communications, but, in so far as
my own writings are concerned, there is not a letter or dociDmeut which I am afraid to have exhibited, and I authorize and
call upon all living persons to produce and print forthwith
whlatever writings they have of mine.  It is time, for the sake
of dlecency and public morals,  that this matter  should be
brought to an end.  It is ian open pool of eorrupl)tioll, exhaling
deadly vapors.  For six weeks the nation has risen up) and sat
down upon scandal.  Not a great war or revolution could have
filled the newspapers more'han  this  question of domestic
trouble, magnified a thomsandfold, and, like a sore spot on the
human body, drawing to itself every morbid humor in the blood.
20
43- 7
0 
B EBEEAER'S BC0OSS-EXA[Il4AT10ON.
Whoever is buried with it, it is time that this abomination be
buried below all touch or power of resurrection.
The following are the most inlteresting parts of Mr. Beecher's
cross-examination:
Question.-Can you tell how you came to write that letter of
despondency dated Feb. 5thl, 1872, to MAoultoii?  Aiiswer.-l
would come back from a whole weekli's lecturing an(l wotl(l be
perfectly fagged out, an(l the first thing on gettilng home there
would be some contoti-(nded (development opening on me.  In
this state of min(l, in which I had no longer any resistancy or
rebound in me, I would work the wliole week out, alld ill this
w'ay it llappene(l time and time an(dl time again.  On one of
these occasions I went to Moulton's store.  llMoulton had always
treate(d me with the greatest personal klindness.  -lie treate(l
me as if lle loved me.  On this occasion I wvent down to the
store to see him aln(l his face was cold toward(l me.
I prol)osed to walk with him, and lie wallked with me in
such a way that it seelne(d to me as thollgh it, was iirksoine to
him to have me with him,n as tihought lie wanted to shl:tle nme oif.
Now anythingi likle that all but kills me.  I (don't wish to p)ush
nlyself upon any bodyl, to feel tlhtt I have puslhed myself uplll)on
iany human being who (does not want me, is enoughIl  to klill me,
an(l to be treated so by him at that time ma(le it seem to me
as tlhoughl the end of the world had come, for he was the only
mai on the globe I could talk with on this subtject.  I was sllht
ul) to every human being.  I could not go to my wife.  I could1
n,t go to my children.  I coul(l not go to my church.  He was
the only one person to whom I could talkl, and when I got that
rebtiff from him it seemed as tlhough it would kill me, and the
letter was the prodluction of that mood into which I was thrown.
Q. —Do youl suppose that ryou or the community would have
heard anythling of the trouble of Tilton with his f.amily had he
been a successful man?  A.-I  am morally certain that the
thingi woul lhave been deel)er buried than the bottom of the
sea if Mlr. Tilton had(l gone rig)lit on to a prosperous career and
hlie had had the foo(l which  lie had been accustonmed to; but
Sr. Tilton is a man who starves for want of fltttery, and no
p)ower on God('s earth can make him  happy ywhen he is not
receiving some incense.
With reference to his first acquaintance with Moulton, Mr.
Beecher said he only had a Wsutal acquaintance with him until
he came to his (Beech'qr's) house on this business.
6
45S 
IF TILTON CO ULD- BE C U'T IN Y'WO.
Q.-Di(d loulton say anything when the so-called apology
was written, to the eflect that there was nothing about the case
but what an apology might coveri?  A.-Ile made the impression on my mind not only that Tilton had been greatly injured,
but that Tiltonl was saturated with conviction that I was using
my whlole powers against him.  Widen  any (lisclosure of my
real feeling,s was ma(le to him he treated it with a kind of incredulty as if I was acting a part.  BJut when I slhed tears, and my
voice broke, and I walked up) and down the room with unfeigned
distress, lie seemed to be touchelld(l, and finally he said, " Now if
that is the way you feel, if Mr. Tilton could be made to sce it,
this whole thilng coul(l be settled.
Q.-If 3you used these words, " He would have been a better
man in miy circumstances than I have been," whlat (lid you
mean by them?  A.-1 (lo not know, I'm sure.  The conversationI was hyp)othleticatl in respect to the betrayal of firiends in an
hour of emer-gency, in respect to undermining Tilton just at the
time when lBowen and( all the worldl were lea-ving him, in res
pect to want of fidelity, and there is one thing that you are to
bear in mind, a thing that I have never mentioned to any of
you, and tllat had a very stirong influence upon me.   I never
can forget a lkindness (lone to me.  When  the war brolkec out
my son went into a Brooklyn regiment, and, after being seven
months in a camp at Washingiton, lie played a series of pranks
on some of the officers, an(l got himself into great trouble, and
Col. Aldamns recommlnen(de(d lir  to resign, and he came to me.
Well, it broke my heart.  I had but one boy that was old
enioughl to go, that I coull  offer to my coutntry, and I told'I'lieodore, who was in the ofice with me.  He made  the case his
own.  MAr. Tilton has a great dleal in his  upper nature.  If lie
could be cut in two, and his lower nature separated firom his
upper, there is a ogreat deal in his upper nature capable of great
sweetness aud beauty.  At any rate, he took tlip my case.  He
suggoested himself tihat the thing to d(lo would be to get himn
tranIsfi'irred into the regular army.   He said that hlie knew Sam
Wilkeson, a correspondent of the Tribtune, who was at that
time in Washingiton, and had great influence, an(l that hlie would
go righlt on that ve3ry nlight and secure this thing.  le di(l,
without a nioment's delay, start -an(l go to Wtashington, and he
secured, thlroughl  Sam Wilkeson, from  Simnon Catmeron, then
secretary of war, the appointmtpt ot' Henrv as second(l lieutenant
in the fourth artillery se;rvice.  I have felt ever since, that in
the doing of that thing, he did me a most royal service.   1 have
459,
f
0 
BE PATIENT IfN WELL DOING.
felt it exquisitely and there has not been a time when I have
done anything that hurt Tilton that that thing has not come
back to me, and when it seemed as though I lhad in an -hour of
his need and trouble stepped aside and even helped to push him
down.
Q.-What was in your mind then you wrote these words,
When I saw yout last I did not expect ever to see you again,
or be alive many days?"  A.-Just what I have stated ill my
statement already. Q.-Nothling else? A.-No. I know I
firequently said, "I wish I were dead," and Theodore Tilton he
came in and said he wished he was dclead, and  Moulton was
firequently in a state in which he wished he was dead, and Mrs.
Moulton said, "I am living among friends, every one of whom
wishes he was dead," or something like that.  I do not know
but it was smarter than that, but she put it in a way that was
very ludicrous.  Every one of us used to be echoing that expression.  We  were vexed and plagued together, and I used
the familiar phrase "I wish I were dead."
Q.-The outside gossip is that you referred in that line to
contemplated suicide.
Mr. Beecher-How do you propose to cure the gossip?
Mr. Winslow.-I cannot say, but I want to know if anything
of that kind was in your mind(l?  A.-It was not.  My general
purpose in the matter of this whole thing was this: and I kept
it as the motto of my life, by patient continuance in well doing
to put to shame those who falsely accused me. Of course in
mv dismal moods I felt as though the earth had come to an
end.  Now, in interpreti(ng these special letters everybody is
irresistibly tempted to supl)ose that everything I said was said
narrowlv in regard to their text, instead of considering the
foregoing state of my mind.  Whereas my utterances were
larg(ely to be interpreted by the past, as well as by the present
or the future.  I cannot interpret them precisely as I can a
note of hand or a check. A man that is practical, a man that
is oftentimes extravagant, a man that is subject to moods such
as make me such as I am, can't narrowly measure his words.
Q.-In view of all that has happened, what is your present
feeling as to the conduct of Moulton —his sincerity? A.-I
have no views to express.
Q.-Has Moulton any secret of yours in papers, in documents,
or a knowledge of any actdf yours that you would not have see
the light in this house? A.-Not that I am aware of
Q.-Have you any doubt?  A.-I have none.
460
f
a 
REMORSE, FEAR, AND DESPAIR.
Q.-Do you now call upon him to produce all he has and tell
all lie knows?  A.-I do.
By IMr. Clevelaii,d-Hlave you reason, in the lighlt of recent
disclosures, to doubt his fi(lelity to you during those four yeai's?
A.-Tlie impression miade by him  lduring  the four years of
friendslhip andl( fidelity was so strong, that my present surprise
aii(l indignoation (o10 not seem to rub it out.  I am  in that kind
of dinvided consciousness that I was in respect to Elizabeth Tilton, that she was a saint and chief of sinners, and M r. Moulton's
hold upon my confidence was so great that all that has come
now affects me as a dream.
By MAr. Winslow-In your letter of Feb. 5th, 1872, you speak
of the possibility of a ruinous defense of you breaking out.
How  could there be any ruinous defense of you?  A.-A  defense of me conducted by ignorant people, full of church zeal
and personal partizan feeling, knowing nothing of the flacts,
and comnpelling this whole avalanche of niud to descend on the
community, might have been ruinous.  I think now as I then
felt.
Q.-You speak of remorse, fear and despair?  A.-I suppose
I felt thlem all.  Whether I was justified in so feeling is a question.  When I lived in Indianapolis there was an old lawyer
there named Calvin Fletcher, a New England man, of large
brain, who stood at the head of the bar.  He was a Miethod(ist
Chlristian man. He took a peculiar fancy to me, and hlie used
to come and see me often when I was a young  minister, and I
would see him a great deal.  He would make many admirable
suggestions, one of which was that he never admitted anybody
was to blame except the party  who  uttered the conmplaint.
Says he, "I hold myself responsible for having every body do
rilght by me, and( if thev do not do right, it is because I dlo not
do my duty.  And now," said lie, "in preaching during your
lite do iyou take blame upon yourself, and don't y)ou be scolding
your churchl and blaming evei-ybody.  It is your business to see
that your folks are ri(rght."  Well, it sank down into my heart
and became a sl)riing of influence from that day to this.  If my
prayer meetinogs (lo not go riolit it is my fault.  If the peop)le
(lo not come to church, I im the one to blame for their not
coming.  If thlings go wrongr in my family, I find the reason in
m-self.  I have foreseen qutllrels in the church, and if I had
leit them alone they woul(l brst and break out, but acting under the advice thus given, and doing, my own duty I have had
no difliculty in my church.
461
6 
MET WOODIULL.'
As to his relations with Mrs. Woodhull Mr. Beecher ans
wered:  Q  Are you clear in your recollection that you never met the
Woodhull more than three times? A. I am perfectly clear,
that is, to speak to them.
Q. State the times, the places. A. On one occasion I was
walking with Mr. Moulton in the general direction of Tilton's
house, when he said that Mrs. Woodhull was going to be there.
I at first hesitated, and he said come in anid just see her.  I
said, very well.  I went in, and after some conversation down
in the parlor I went up stairs into the famous boudoir-room,
where sl)e sat waiting, and, like a spider to a fly, she rushed to
me on my entrance and reached out both her hands with the
utmost earnestness, and said how rejoiced she was to see me.
I talked with her about five minutes and then went down stairs.
My second interview with her was on an occasion when I had
been with some twenty or thirty gentlemen to look at the warehouse establishment of W. Rolbinson.  We were on the steamer
that had been chartered for this occasion, and when I came up,
Mtoilton said: "Come with me to town."  Jie never told me
there was to be any company. When I came there I learned
there was to be something in New York in the evening, and
that there were to be t:!ele a number of literary ladies, among
vlwhom was Mrs. Woodlhull.  I was placed at the helad of the
tabl)e near Mrs. Moulton, I think on her left. Mrs. Woodhull
was next to me, or else she was first and I was next; I do not
remember which.  At that table she deigned to speak to me.
I addressed a ftiw words to her for politeness sale during the
dinner, but there was no sort of enthusiasm between us.  My
third and last interview was at Mr. Moultol's house.  ShIe had
addressed a letter to me saying that she would open all the
scandal if I did not preside at Steinway Hall; and in reply to
that Mr. AMoulton advised that, instead of answering her letter,
I should see her and say without witnesses what I lhad to say.
She brought with her, her great subject.  It was in type, and
my policy was to let her talk, and say little, which I did; and
she went on saving:  "You know," "yout believe," "so and
so," and I said nothing, and so on from point to point, until I
said at last: "Mrs. Woodhull, I do not understand your viewvs.
I have never read them thoroughly.  As far as I do undlerstand them I do not believe in them, and though I am in favor
of free discussion, tifs presiding at meetings is a thing I sel
462
6 
BED-ROOM SCENYE.
dom ao for anybody, and I shall not do it for you, because I
am not in svmplathy with your movement.
Q. Has Mirs. WVoodhull any letters of yours in her possession?
A. Twvo, I suppose, unless she has sold them.
Q. IUpon what subject?  A. Shl, inclosed a letter to me with
one from my sister, Mrs. Isabella Hooker, inviting me  to be
present at the suiiffrage convention at Washington.  To  that
letter I replied briefly in the neg,ative, but made a few statemeints in respect to my ideas of woman's voting.  The other
letter was just before her scandalous publication.  She wrote
to me a whining letter, saying that her reformatory movements
hlad brought uIponI her such odium that she could not procure
lodgings in New York, and that she had been turned out of
the Gilsey house, I think, and asking me, in a very significant
way, to iliterpose my iInfluence or some other relief for her. To
that letter I replied very briefly, saying I regretted when anybody suffered persecution for tihe advocacy of their sincere
viewvs; but that I must decline to initerfere.
By Mr. Clafliii- Thlese are two letters, the signatures of
which he showed to Mr. Bowen and myself.  It was reported
that by these letters you were to be siunk 40,000 faithoms deep.
I told Bowen before I went there that I knew of the existence
of letters, and that was all they contained.  Mr. Bowen made
the journey clear down from Connecticut on purpose to go up
tliere.
On other points the examiination showed this result:  Q. Now as to what occurred in your library and in his bedchamber.  I refer to the occasion in which h1e said you touched
his wife's ankle and were found with a flushed face in the bedchamber of his house?  A. I do most emphatically deny that
either of these scelnes ever occurred.
Q. Did you ever admit at any time to Mr. Moulton or Mr.
Tilton, or to any olther person, that you ever had any relations
with Mrs. E. IR. Tilton, or ever committed any act to or with
her, or said any word to her which would be unfit for a Christian man to hold, (lo or say with the wife of a friend; or for a
father to hold, do or say with his daughter; or a brother with
his sister?  Did you ever admit this in any form, or in any
words? A. Never.
By Mr. Tracy-Q. Did yIu ever, in fact, hold any such relations, do any such act or liter any such word?  A. Never.
By MIr. Cleveland- Q. In your statement you have alluded
ol
463 
PAID MO UL TON $7,000.
to one payment of $5,000. Have you furnished any other
money to those parties? A. I have furnished at least $2,000
beside the $5,000.
Q. To whom did you pay that money? A. To Mr. Moulton.
Q. In various sums? A. In various sums, partly in cash
and partly in checks.
Q. Have you any of those checks?  A. I have several.  I
don't remember how many.
Q. Where are they? A. I have some of them here. One of
June 23d, 1871, drawn on the Mechanics' Bank to the order of
Frank Moulton and indorsed ill his handwriting, and one of
May 29th, 1872, to the order of F. D. Moulton and also indorscd in his handwriting. Each of these that are marked
"for deposit" across the face have been paid.
Q. As nearly as you can recollect, how much money went
into the hands of Mr. Moulton?  A. I should say I have paid
$7,000.
Q. To what use did you suppose that the money was to be
ap,')iopriated?  A. I suppllosed that it was to be appropriated
to extricate Mr. Tilton fiom his difficulties in some way.
Q. You did not stop to inquire how or why?  A. Mr. Moulton sometimes sent me a note saying, "I wish you would send
me your check for so much."
Q. Did you usually respond to the demands of Mr. Moulton
for money during th('se months?  A. I always did.
Q. Under vlwhat circumstances did you come to pay the $5,000
in one sum? A. Because it was represented to me that the
whole difficulty could be now settled by that amount of money,
which would put the aiffatirs of the Golden Age on a secure
footing; that they would be able to go right on; that with the
going on of them the safety of Tilton would be assured, and
that would be the settlement of the whole thing. It was to
salVC Tilton pecuniarily.
Q. Were there any documents shown you by Moulton? and
wlhat did he show you before you made the payments?  A. It
was the result of inclination and general statements, and I
finally said to him: " I am willing to pay $5,000." I came to
do it in this way:-Thlere was a discussion about that paper.
Mr. Moulton was constantly advancing money, as he said to
me, to help Mr. Tilton. The paper was ready. One evening
I was at his house. We were alone together in the back parlor,
and Moulton took out of *is pocket a letter from "Blank."
It was read to me.  lI it the writer mentioned contributions
464
4 
MO ULTON FED IT 0 UT.
which the writer had made to Theodore. I understood from
him the writer of this letter had given him some thousands of
dollars down in ctashl, an(l then taking out two checks or drafts,
which, as I recollect, were on bluish paper, although I am not
sure of that.  There were two checks, each of tliem amoinntiiig
to one or two thousand more, and I slhould think it amnounted
in all to about $6,000, altlhoughl my memory about quantities
and figures is to be taken withl great allowanice.  But it prodtLiced the impression on me that the writer had given him $1,000 or $2,000 in cash down, and, as the writer explained in the
letter, it was not convenient to give the balance in mon(,y at
that time, but that the writer had drawn time drafts, which
would be just as useful to him as moiiev, and Mr. Moulton
slapped the table and said that is what I call firiendship, and I
was stupid and said yes, it was.  Afterward, when I got home,
and thinking about it in the mlorning, "why," satid 1, whilt a
fool! I niiever dreamed whlat lie meanit." Thien I went to hlim
and said: " I am willing to make a contribution and put tlhe
thing beyond a controversy."  Well, he said something like
this: that he thlought it would be the best investment that
ever I made in my lire.  I then went to the Savings B,tiik and
put a mortgage of $5,000 on my house. 1 took a check which
was given me by the banik's lawyer, and put it into thl banik,
and on Mouiltoil's suggestion that it would be better tlanii to
have a check drawn to his order, I drew the money in $500 or
$1,000 bills, I hiave forgotten which, but 1 know thiat they were
larg,e, for I carried thile roll iii my hland, ind these I gave into
his hands.  From time to time lie spoke in the most glowing
terms, and said he was feediig it out to Theodore, and he said
that at the time of the first installment he gave Theodore $500
at once, and that he sent with it a promissory note for Thleodore to sign, but that Theodore did not sign it and sent it back,
saying that he saw no prospect in the end of payilig the loans,
and that he could not honorably, therefore, expect them, and
refuised to sign any note, and Moulton tlaughed significantly
and said that Tilton subsequently took the money without givingI, any note.
Q. Did you receive any note or security whatever, or evidence
of debt, from Mr. Moulton, or has there been any offer to
returti the money to you?  A. Nothing of the kind.  It was
never expected to be returne1 by either party.
Q. Has Moulton Sald anything to you aboait money in a
comparatively recent period?  A. About the time of the pub             20*
465 
HE Q UESTIONS BEECHER.
lication of the Bacon letter, I think, I had been given to under stand that he had offered $5,000 in gold to Mir. Tilton if he
would not publish that letter, and that at the then stage of
affairs Moulton felt profoundly that Tilton could not come
out with a disclosure of all this nmatter without leaving Moutl toln in an awkvward position, and that he offered $5,000 ill gold
if Tilton would not publish that letter.  It led to some little
conversation about a supply ot' moiey, and hlie slid that I i,td
better give him my whole fortune thani have Tilton go on in
his course.
Q. That you had better give your whole fortune to Mr. Til ton?  A. Yes, rather than have Tilton go into this fight.
Q. Was that before or after the publication of the Bacon
letter?  A. I can't be certain.  It was about that timte.
Q. Did Mir. AMoutlton ever question you in regard to this
matter, whether you hbad ever spoken on that to any one, or
expressed any anxiety in your mind about it? A. Hle did;
not many weeks ago, among  the last interviews I had with
him.
Q. Since the publication of that Bacon letter? A. Yes; I
think it was on the Sabbath day after the appointment of this
Committee.  I had preached but once on that day, and on the
afternoon of that day he saw me, and said to me in a conversation: "You have never mentioned about that $5,000?"  I said
yes; I had to one or two persons; mentioned it to Oliver Johnson for one, because he was saying something to me one day
about what some of Tilton's friends were saying and I incideitally mentioned that to him, which he never repeated, I suppose to anybody.-Mr. Moulton said: "I will never admit that;
I shall deny it always.
Q. Have you any objections to state what Tilton's friends
were saying to Oliver Johnson and others? what did Oliver
Johnson say to you?  A. On one occasion he reported to me
that among the friends of Tilton he had heard reproaches
made against me; that I neither was endeavoring to help
Theodore in reputation or in any other way, and that the expression was this: That I had been the instrument of his beintg thrown off the track in life, and that, I would not reinstate
him.  I replied, in substance, that so far as reputation was
concerned, I not only lolged and tried to do what I could for
Tilton, but that his assocition with the Woodhull was fatal
to him, and I could ibt make any head against it. And with
regard to the other, I said to him that I had been willing to
466
-b 
GRACE, MEIRCY, AND PEACE.
help him materially, and that recently I paid five thousand
dollars to him.
Q.  Did you see and have a conversation with Tiltoli soon
after the payment of the five thousand dollars?  A. On the
Sunday morning following the payment of the five thousand
doilars, as I was goit)g to church in the morniing, I met Mr
Tilton standiing right opposite the house.-[eI put his arm
through nline anld was ill his m(ost beatific mood.  Whilewvtlking along down to the church he was talking all the way of
grace, mercy and peace to mie, and at that time I recollect
thinking that five thousand dollars is very mollifying.
By Mr. Clafiin-Q. Did you at any time receive the note
which the Committee have in evidence, as follows:
HI. W. B.-Grace, mercy and peace. T. T. Sunday morning.
A. Yes.  Ile sent it on Sunday morning, by his wife, who
had laid it on my pull)it stand.
By Mr. Cleveland-If your mortgage was dated about May
1st, 1873, the money was of course paid to Mr. Moulton after
your mortgage was made?  A. Yes, sir.  I did not keep the
money an hour. I went with it directly from the Meclhanics' Bank, where I drew it, and put it into Moulton's hands on
the same day, and within a few days.
Q. At his house? A. I do not know.
Q. Here is a letter dated May 1st, 1874, in which Tilton refers to sonme story of Carpenter's about your offering money.
Did you receive that letter? A. I did, sir.  It was a magnificent humbug.   I knew that Mr. Tilton knew that he had been
tinkling my gold in his pockets for months atid years, and ihe
wrote that letter to be published for a sliam and mask.
Q. What did you understand by Carpenter's relations to the
money matter?  A. My first knowledge of Mr. Carpenter was
that he was putting his nose into this business, which did not
concern him.  That was also Mr. Moulton's impression.   I
asked Moulton, one day, what under the sun is Carl)enter
doilng around here and meddling with this matter?  I-le sumniarily damned him and represented him  as a good-natured
and well-meaning busy-body.  I suggested, why didn't hie tell
Ihira distinctly that his presence was not wanted?  He said,
" Vell, he serves us some useful purpose.  We hear of things
going on in the clubs or an:)lace in New York.  We put Carpenter on the track, fld he fetches all the rumors, and so we
use him to find out what we could not get otherwise."  And I
did find that he not only did that, but that AMri. Carl)penter was
t
467 
CARPENTER A B USY-BOD Y.
one of those good-natured men whose philanthropy exhibited
itself in trying to settle quarrels and difliculties by picking up
evnerything he could hear said by, for, or against a man, and
carrying it to the parties where it would do the most harm
possible.  He was a kinld of goodnlatured fool, and in all this
matter he has been a tool more than a helper.  He has never
once done anythinig, except ill the kindest way, and never once
done anything in the whole of this matter, from beginingii  to
end, thatwas not a stupid blunder.  I made up my mind from
the beginning that if I was silent to everybody in this matter,
I would be esl)cpecially silent to him (Carpenter). Irecollect
but one interview with him that had any particular significance.  He came to see me once when the Council was in session, and our docun)ent was p)ublislhed.  There was a phrase
initroduced into it that Tilton thoughlt pointed to him, and Tilton, that night, was in a bonfire Ilame and walked up and down
the street with MAoultoni.  I was in at Freelanld's and in comes
Carpenter with his dark and mysterious eyes.  He sat down
on the sofa, and in a kind of sepulchral whisper, told me of
some matters.  Says I, "That is all nonisense," that it meant
"blank," and Carpenter was rejoiced to hear it, and then went
out. On another occasion he came to me and in a great glow
of benevolence said there was to be a newspaper established in
New York, and that I was to take the editorship, and a half
millionI was to be raised almost by the tap of a drum-I was
amused, but said to him  gravely:-"\W\ell, Carpenter, if I
should leave the pulpit, I think it very likely I should go into
journalism.  It would be more natural to me than anythilng
else."  That was the amount of the conversation.
One other c!)nversa,tion I have some recollection of, in April
list, and that was when Mr. Moulton had a plan on foot to buy
the Golden. Aye of Tilton, and send him to Europe, and Carpe(nter came ill and talked withl me about it.  I recollect very
distinctly that conversation.  My eyes were beginning to be
enlighltened.  My education was beginning to tell on me a little, and I said to Mr. Carpenter, distinctly:  "Mr. Carpel(nter,
that is a niatter which I can have nothing to do with. I don't
know l)but that if Tilton wishes to go to Europe with his family, and live there for some time, that his iriends would be
williong to raise that amount of money, but that it is a matter
you must talk with someboly else, and not with me."
Q. l)id you say thb, if Tilton printed his documents you
would never ascend that l)uli)it again?  A. I never said that,
468
6 
HE PROPOSED THE EUROPEAN JOURN'EY.  46;9
and I shotld never talk about the thing with such a weak man
as he.
Q. Who introduced the subject of going to Europe when
Carpenter came to see 3yon? A. IIe did.
The following are the letters rlterred to ill the statement of
Mr. Beeclher.  Tlte first one was wiitten by him to Mirs. Tilton for the purpose or disposiig her more kindly toward hler
husband and lMr. Moulton, whom she distrusted
BROOKLrYN, Feb. 7th, 1871.
MY DEAR MRS. TILTON:-When I saw you last I did not expect ever
to see you again or to be alive many days.  God was kinder to me than
were my own thoughts.  The friend whom God sent to me, Mr. Moulton,
has proved ablove all friends that ever I had, noble and willing to help me
in this terrible emergency of my life.  His hand it was that tied up the
storm that was ready to burst u-)on our heads.  I am niot the less disposed
to trust him  from finding that he has your welfare most deeply and tenderly at heart. You have no friend, Tlheodore excepted, who has it in
his power to serve you so vitally, and who will do it with so much delicacy
and honor.  I beseech of you, if nmy wislhes have yet any influence, let niy
deliberate judgment in this matter weigli with yours.  It does my sore
heart good to see in Mr. Moulton an unfeigned respect and honor for you.
It would kill me if I thought otherwise.  HIle will be as true a friend to
your honor and happiness as a brother could be to a sister. In him we
have a common  ground on wlhich you and I may nmeet.  The past is
ended, but is there not a future, no wiser, higher, holier future?  May
nlt this friend stand as a priest in the new sanctuary of reconciliation and
mediate and bless you, Theodore and my most unhappy self.  Do not let
my earnestness fail of its end.  You believe in nimy judgment.  I have put
nmyself wholly and gladly in Moulton's hands and there I must meet you.
This is sent with Theodore's consent, but hlie has not read it. Will you
return it to me by his hands! I am very earnest in this wish, for all our
sakes, for such a letter ought not to be subject to even a chance of mnis
carriage.
Your unhappy friend,
I. XV. BEECIIIER.
The same day he wrote as follows to Mr. Moultonii:
FEBIRUARY 7T[, 1871.
MY DT)FAR MR. MOULTON:-I am glad to send you a book which(  you
will relish or which a man on a sicb bed ought to relish.  I wish  I had(l
more like it, and that I couldesend you one every day, not as a repayment
of your great kindness to me, for that never can be paid; not even by love,
4~~~~~~~~ 
BEECHER DESPONDENT.
whlichl I give you freely.  Many, miany friends hlas God raised ulp to me,
but to no one of tlieiii has lie ever given tie opportunity auid tihe wisdom
so to serve mie as you have.  My trust in yO,u is coiimplete.  You liave also
p)roved yourself Tlieodore's friend d     E11  liz.bl)eth's.  Does God look doiwn
froni heaven on tlhree unlial)l)y creatures that miore need a friend than
tlhese?  Is it not an intimation of God's intent of imercy to  ill tlhat each
one of these has in you a tried anld proved( firiend, b)ut only in you  ire we
three united! Wiould to God(, wlio orders  ill hearts, that by your kind
niediation Theodore, Elizabetlh,  tn(d  I could be liiiade friends  again.
Theodore, will have thle lhardest task in such a case, but  has lie not
proved himiself capable of the nobllest things?  I wonder if Elizabethl knows
how generously lie has carried himself towards me.  Of course I can
never speak with her again, except with his permlission, and I do not
know that even then it would be best.  My earnest longing is to see her in
tlhe full sympathy of her nature at rest in himt once more trusting lier and
loving her with even a better than tlhe old love.  I amn always sad in suchl
thloughts.  Is there any way out of this niglht?  May not a day star arise?
Truly yours always, and with trust and love,
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
When  Tilton and Moulton appeared to look upon MAr.
Beecher as the author of all the trouble tllat head fallen upon
the former, Mr. 13eecher wrote the following letter to MAr.
3Ioulton, firom  which MIr. Tilton gave extracts in his statermeint.
MODNI)A, Feb. 5th, 1872.
]' 1)1.At  FRIEND:-I leave torn  to-day and expect to pass tlirough
firom  IPliiladell)liit to New  Ilaven.   Slall not  be  here until Friday.
Ab)out tliree weeks ago I met T. in the cars going to B.   We talked imelih.
Ilie told nie to go on with imy work, withlout the least anxiety in so fir as
his feelings and actions were the occasion of apprehensions.   On returning lhome from New Hlaven, where I amn three days in the week delivering
a course of lectures to the theological students, I found a note fromii E.,
saying that T. felt hard towards nme, or was going to see or write to me
before leaving for tlhe West.   She kindly added, " Be not east down.   I
bear this almnost always, but the God in whom we trust will deliver us all
saifely.  I know you do and are,'illing abundantly to help himi, and I also
know your enmbarrassments."  There were added words of warning, but
also of consolation, for I belici  E. is beloved of God, and that her prayers
for nie are sooner heard than mine for nmyself or for her.  But it seeius
that a change has come to T. since I saw him in the ears.  Indeed, ever
since he has felt niore intensely the force of feeling in societ and the
4'i-O 
.HIS GREAT LABORS.
humiliations which environ his enterprise.  Ile has growingly felt that I
had a power to help which I did not develop, and I believe that you hlave
participated in the feeling.  It is natural you should.  T. is dearer to you
tltan I can possibly be.  Ilc is with you.  All his trials lie open to your
eye daily.  But I see you but seldom, and my personal relat'ons, environmnents, necessities, linmitations, dangers and perplexities you cannot see or
imiagine.  If I had not gone through this great year of sorrow,  I would
not have believed that any one could pass through my experience and be
alive or sane.
I have been the centre of three distinct circles, each of which require
clear mindedness and peculiarly inventive or originative power, viz: First
-Tlhe great Church; Second-The newspaper; Third-TlThe book.  The
first I could neither get out of nor slight; the sensitiveness of so many of
iiiy people would have made any appearance of trouble or any reminssion
of force an occasion of alarm and notice and have excited where it was
intended that rumors should die aid everythling be quiet.  The newspaper
I did roll off my nmind, did but little except give general directions and in
so doing I was continually spurred and exhorted by those in interest. It
could not be helped.
Thile "Life of Christ," long delayed, had locked up the capital of the
firm, and was likely to sink thenm. Finished it must be. Was ever book
born of such sorrow as that was? The interior history of it will never be
written.  l)uring all this time you literally were all my stay and comfort.
I should have failed on the way but for the courage which you inspired
and the hope which you breathed.  My vacation was profitable.  I came
back hoping that the bitterness of death was passed, but T's. troubles
brought back the cloud with even severe sufierings.  For all this fall and
winter I have felt that you (ldid not feel satisfied with me, and that I seemed
biothi to you and T. as contenting myself with:t cautious or sluggish policy,
willing to save myself,; but not to risk anything for T. I have again and
again probed my heart to see whether I was truly liable to such feeling and
the response is unequivocal that I anm not.
No man can see the difficulties then environing me, unless lie stands
whlere I do.  To say that I have a church on my hands, is simple enouglh,
but to have the hundreds and thousands of men present eyeing me, each
one with his keen suspicion or anxiety, or zeal; to see tendencies, which,
if not stopped, would break out in a ruinous defence of me; to stop them
without seeming to do it; to prevent any one questioning me; to meet and
allay prejudices against T., which ]Wd their beginning years before his; to
keep serene, as I was not alarmed or disturbed; to be cheerful at home
and among friends, when I was suffering the torments of the damned; to
pass sleepless nights after, and yet to come up fresh and full for Sunday
4 i-I 
WILLING TO STEP DO WN AND O U1l.
-all this may be talked about, but the real thling cannot be understood
fromi the outside, nor its wearing an(l grinding on tlle nervous system.
God knows  I hlave put more thloughlt and judngment and earnest desire
into nly efforts to prepare a way for T. and E. than ever I did for myself a
llundrcedfold.  As to the outside public, I have never lost an opportunity
to soften prejudices, to refute falsehoods, and to excite a ikindly feeling
ailiong all wlhom I nmet.  I am tlirown among clergymen, pul)lic nicen and
generally tlhe niai(ers of pul)lic opinion, and I have used every rational
enldeavor to repair the evils that have been visited upon T., and with
increasing success, but the roots of this prejudice are long.
The catastroplhe which precipitated himi from  his place only disclosed
feelings that had existed long.  Neither lie nor you can lbe aware of the
feelings of classes in society on other grounds than later runmors.  I niention this to explain why I know with absolute certainty that no mere statement, letter, testimony or affirmation will reach the root of atffairs and
reinstate them.  Time and work will, but chronic evils require chronic
remedies.
If my destruction wou'd place him all right that shall not stand in the
way.  I am willing to step down and out.  No one can offer more than
that.  That I do offer.  Sacrifice me without hesitation if you can clearly
see your way to happiness and safety thereby.  I do not thlink that anything would be gained by it.  I should be destroyed; but lie woul(l not be
saved.  Elizabetli and tlhe( childlren would have their filture clouded.  In
one point of view I could desire the sacrifice on your part   Nothing can
possibly be so bad as the horror of the great darkness in which I spend
much of my time.
I look upoli death as sweeter-fi.ced than any other fricid I have in the
world.  Life would be pleasant if I could see that reb,uilt whiclh is scattered(l; but to live on the shlarp, r,agged edge of anxiety, remorse, fealr,
despair, and yet to put on all appearances of serenity and happiness, cannot be endured much longer, I am well nigh discouraged.
If you, too, cease to trust me, to love nme, I am alone. I have not a
another person in this world to whom  I could. go.  Well, to God  I coninit all; whatever it nimay  here, it shall be well there.  With sincere
gratitude for your  heroic friendship,  and( with  sincere affection, even
though you love nme not, I am yours though unknown to you.
II. W. B.
ter of Mrs. Tilton, which is here partly quoted, is as
follows:
I leave for the West, Mon(lday next.  How glad I was to hear you were
your own self on Sun(lday morning.  Tlheodore's minid hlas been lhard to
,4'i-2
0 
BEECHER TO MRS. TlLTOPV.
ward you of late, and I tlink he proposes an interview with you by word or
note before leaving lhome.  If so be not cast down.   I fear this alinost
always, but tllhe God in whlom we trust will deliver all safely.  I know you
do and are abundantly willing to hlelp lini, and I also know your enallrrassments.  I anticipate my Westerni trip, whlere I liay be alone witlh him,
exceedingly. 
After  the Woodhull  story  was  published  and  while  Mr.
Tilton  seemed really desirous for at short time of protecting
his wife, AMr. Beecher sent thlroulgh him the following letter to
hler:
MY DEAR MRS. TILTON:-I  hoped that you would be shielded from
the knowledge of the great wrong tlhat lIas l)een done to you and tllrough
you to universal womianlood.  I canll hardly bear to speak of it or allude
to a matter than  whlichl  nothling  can  well be mniore painful to a pure,
womanoly nature.  I pray daily for you, that your  fa.ithl fail not.  You
yourself know the way and the power of prayer.  God has been your
refuge in miany a sorrow before.  He will now hide you in Ilis pavilion
until the storm be overp)ast.  The rain that beats down the flower to tllhe
earthl will pass at lengthl and the stem bent but not broken, will rise a,gain
and  )blossomn as before.  Every.pure woiman on earthl will feel tlhat this
wanton and unprovoked assault is aiiecd at you, but reaclhes to universal
womanhood.  A[eantiine your dear  children will love you witll doul)le
tenderness, and Thleod(lore, at wlom the shlafts are hlurled, will hid(le you in
his heart of learts.  I am glad that revelation from the pit has given liil
a sighlt of the danger thlat was  hidden by specious appearances and
promises of usefulness,  Mfay God keep hiiiii in courage in thle arduous
struggle which lie wages against adversity and bring him out though much
tried, like gold seven tinies refined.  I have not spoken of iiiyself.  No
words could express the sharpness and depthl of miy sorrow in your behalf,
my dear and lioi.ored friend.  God watlks in the fire by thle side of tlhose lie
loves, and in Ileav-en neither you nor Theodore, nor I slhill regret tlhat
diseilline how liardsoever it mnay seemn now.   May lie restrain and( turn
those poor creatures who have been given over to all this sorrowful harm
to thlose who have deserved no such treatment at their liands.   I coinllend
you to my miother's God, niy dear friend; miay Ilis sniile bring lighlt in
darkness, and His love perpetual summer to you.
Very truly yours,
HENRY WARI) BEECIIER.
3Mr. Beecher gives in full tl letter written to Mri. MAloulton
after the unauthorized publicationi of the tripartite covenant,
43
0 
'HE WILL WRITE TO THE P UBLIC.
of which Mr. Tilton made garbled extracts.  It is as follows:
SUNDAY MORNING, June 1st, 1873.
My DEAR FRANK:-The  whole  world is tranquil anid the heaven is
serene, as befits one who has about finished this world life, I could do
nothing on Sunday.   My head was confused, but a good sleep has ni.ade it
like crystal.  I have determined to make no more resistance.  Theodore's
temperament is such that the future, even if temporarily earned, would be
absolutely worthless, filled with abrupt changes and rendering me lialble.it
any hour of the day to be obliged to stultify all the devices by whichl we
sa8ved ourselves.  It is only fair that lie should know  the publication
of the card which hlie proposes, would leave himn falr worse off than before.
The agreement was made  after my letter through y()ii was written.  Ile
had it a year.  lie had condoned his wife's f.iult.  -He lid enjoined upon
me with the utmost earnestness and solemnity not to betray his wife, nor
leave his children to a blight.  I had honestly and earnestly joined in thle
purpose.  Then this settlement was made and signed by him.  It was not
mIy making.  lIe revised his part so that it should wholly suit him, and
signed it.  It stood unquestioned and unblamned for more tlhan a year.
Then it was pubuliscd.  Notlhing but that which lie hid in private, when
made public, excited him to filry, and he charged mne with making him
appear as one graciously I)ard(loned by me.
It was his own delil)berate act, with w]hich lie was perfectly content, till
others saw it, and then lie clharges a grievous wrong lhonle on  me.  My
niind is clear.  I am not in hlaste.  I shlall write for the public at state(Ient
tlhat will bear the light of tlie J(udgment l)ay.  God will take care of mie alnd
nline.  When I look on earth it is deep night; when I look to the heavens
above I see the morning brelaking; but oh! that I could put in golden
letters my'deep sense of your faithful, earnest, undying fidelity, your
disinterested friendship.  Your whole life, too,  lhas been to nmc one of
God's comforters.
It is such as she that renews a waning faithl in womanhlood(l.   Frank
would not have wasted any inore energy on a hopeless task witlh such a
nman as Theodore Tilton.  Thlere is no possible salvation  for  any  who
depend upon him.  Witlh a strong nature lie does not know how to govern
it; with generous impulses, the undercurrent tlhat rules him is self; with
ardent affections. lie cannot love long tli't which does not repa)y llimn with
admiration and praise; with a strong tlheatric nature, lie is constlantly
imposed upon with tlhe idea that a position, a great stroke, a co7/tp cl'etat is
the way to successs.  Besid(  these lie has ablundant good tlhings about
him, but these traits are made absolutely unreliable.  Therefore there is no
use in further trying.
f
474 
GOD WILL PROTECT tIl4.'
I hiave a strong feeling upon me, and it brings great peace with it, that I
am spending miy last Sunday, and preaching niy last sernon.  Dear God,
I tll.anl Thlee.  I am indeed beginning to see rest and triumph.  Tile pain
of life is but a momenIt, the glory of the everlasting emancipation is
wordless, inconceivable, full of becoming glory.  Ohl, my beloved Frank,
I shall know you there and forever hlold fellowship with you, and look
back and smile at the past.             Your loving
H. W.  BEECIER.
To this letter it will be remembered Mr. Moulton wrote a
reply  in  Mr.  Beecher's  presence.    It is in  the  following
words:  My DEAR FRIEND:-Your letter make  this first Sabbath of summer
dark and cold like a vault, You have never inspired me with courage or
hope, and if I had listened to you alone, my hands would have dropped
helpless long ago.  You don't begin to be in the danger to-day that has
faced you many times before.  If you now look it square in the eyes, it
will cower and sink away again. You know that I have never been in
synmpathy with, but that I absolutely aIblior the unmanly mnood out of which
your letter of this morning came.  This mood is a reservoir of mildew.
you can stand it if the whole case were pul)lished to-morrow.  In my
opinion it shows only a selfish fititli in God to go willing into heaven if you
could, with a truth that you are not courageous enough, with God's help
and faith in God, to try to live on earth. You know that I love you; and
because I do I shlall try, and try, aud try, as in the past.  You are nistaken when you say that "T. charges you with making him appear as one
graciously pardoned by you."  He said the formni in which it was published
in some of the papers made it so appear; and it was from this that lie
asked relief.  I do not think it impossil)le to frame a reply which will cover
the case.  May God bless you.  I know He will protect you.
Yours,
FRANK.
That Mir. Beecher's defence gave a plausible explanation of
the scandal, the public generally admitted, but there were
many, very many, whlo colrd not accept a mere simple statement like this as of more weight than the affidavit of Tilton,
the explicit charges of Moulton, and the declarations of Carpenter.  The people of Plymouth church, however, accepted it
as a complete vindication of Wheir beloved pastor, and oni the
475 
A CALL ON TEE PASTOR.
evening of its publication a meeting was held in Plymouth
cliureh, devoted to prayer and praise to God for the delivery of
the accused from the hands of his enemies.  It was a Jubilee
in fiacet, in which many of the lights of the Congregation
poured out their souls in prayer. At ithe business meeting
that followed, a resolution was adopted requesting the examining Committee to report "at as early a day as is consistent
witlh truth and justice."  When the proceedings in the cthurch
had closed the congregation, by invitation of Rev. Mr. HIalliday, assistant pastor, repaired to the pastor's residence. The
scene that ensued is thus described by a reporter:  The first to arrive at Mir. B3eeclier's house was an old member
of the church, and one between whom and the pastor there
exists a strong affection.  Mr. Beecher was lounging in careless ease on the front stoop, his head thrown back on the door.
As the gentleman approached Mr. l')eecher glanced up with a
flusl of satisfaction on his countenance.
" What, have you come to see me," Mr. Beecher said in ajocular tone.
"Why not, Mr. Beecher?" returned the equally delighted
gentleman.
"Oh I didni't know," said Mr. Beecher, smiling, "that you
cared to have anything to do with me," and then he rose and
strained his friend to his arms.
"T''liere'll be a thousand more here in  a minute, Mr.
Beecher."
"Come in," said the dominie "I'm ready for them," and he
led the way into the library.  Mirs. Beechler and Captain
leecher were there.  The door was wide open.   In a moment
the people began streaming in.  The-cy came in with a rush, a
crush, and a bustle.  It looked as if they were going to fill the
house from roof to cellar. Mr. Beeclher, with a countenance
lighted with joy, but with eyes filling with tears, stood with
Mlrs. Beecher in the centre of the room.  A dozen hands were
outreaclihd to hiint at oiec.  Hle took as many of them as lhe
could conveniently hold, right and left.  The ladi(,s went ul)
to irs. Beecher and kissed her.  She was powerfully affect(ed
and could scarcely return their kind attentions.  There was a
flood of congratulationepoured upon the pastor and his wife,
sympathy, love almd confidence was expressed on every side.
4'4'6
0 
TILTON REJOINS.
Mr. Beccher's fatigue seemed to wear away under the kindnesses of his friends.  There were not only Plymoutlh peop)le,
but maLny strang,ers.  They alike felt the warmth of the preacher's hands, and shared in his cheery words.  To one, a stranger
who was profulse in his expressions of regr iid, Mr. lBeecher
said: "Yes, I have had a severe triaf, but I have tried to b(~ar
it patiently, conscious of my integrity."  Allusion was made
to his assailants, when he said: "I have beeni sadly deceived ill
those whom I implicitly trusted."
The public now looked for every utterance from Messrs.
Moulton and Tilton, withl great anxiety.  Mr. Moulton suddenly disappeared from the city and reappeared at Portland,
Maine, but the week, pregnant with anxiety and excitement,
closed without any response from "Our Mutual Friend" to
thle damaging charge of blackmailing his pastor.  Not so with
MA r. Tilton.  To a reporter of the Herald lie took occasion to
declare as follows:- 
"I think," replied Mr. Tilton, "that probably nowhere else
in the civilized world was there a m,,re dalstardly act committed than yesterday-no, not by any mermbl)er (f tlhe human
race-than Hlenry Ward Beecher's attack onI Frank Moulton
as a blackmailer.  Mr. Moulton is rich enolngh to pay Mr.
B13eecher's salary as a bagatelle. He is, moreover, the most
faitltul friend that MATr. lieclcher ev,,r 11(1, or ever will have
ag,ain, though he slhould live to be a litindrled years old.  Frank
MAloulton's services to that man-thle way lie has lput a shield
over him and guarded him, year by year, for the last four
years, from the exposure of his guilty secret-the zeal and care
with which he has striven to keep public ruin from overtaking
him in the pulpit, and disgratce from shadowing his children
and grandchil(dren-services like these are rarely rendered by
one manl to another, and I know of no instance of such baseness of ingratitude as the desperate miniister of Plymouth
chlurchl has exhibited iii thus striking a man, whose shoe
latchet lie is unworthy to unloose. I care nothing for this pitiful pretext of blackmailing, except so far as it affects MIr.
Moulton-if it can affect him at all, which it will not, for he
is too proud a man to be wounded by such a stab-he will
simply be filled with scorn.  S  far as I myself am concerned,
the only money which I know of Mr. Beecher's paying is in a
case which is one of the many proofs of his guilt.  A young
477
0 
CONVERSATION OVERHEARD.
girl, a servant in my house, overheard, four years ago, a conversation between Mrs. Tiltoil and me coilcerning her intimacy
with Mr. Beecher.  This conversation was rel)eaIttd by the
listener to the family relatives and to some fiiends.  I1er disposition to repeat tlhe story was dangerous for tlhe  actors in it,
and accordingly it was deemed best to send hler to the West to
a boarding school.  She remained there thllree years, and the
bills were paid by Mr. Beecher.  Perhaps he re(gards tllis as
blackmaiil. As to his contributing money to tlhe (;ol(et Age,
it is thle first time that any l)elsoa connected withl tl)e Golden
Agye has ever hlieaid(l of it.  If tlhc capital of that paper, whicl
a, number of firiends made  li)p, contained a secret anud silellt
contribution firom Henry WaLrd Beecher the knowledge of that
fact was carefully wvithhel( from me anud miy associates in thlit
journal.  If Mr. Beecher did( colitribute this money uilbeknownl
to me, and if he l)irocurced it by a mortgage on his house, or in
aiiy other difficult way, tlheir tils fiact alon(e, without any other
ev-idenIce added, is enouglit to colnvict him of every clhaige thlLt
I lhatve made.   Mr1. Beeclhei's crime agaigi-st me  niLd liine was
enougli of a sill to linswcrv for, but illn,adding to this baseness
his audacious and despcirtte attacks ol Mr. Moulton and Mr.
Carpenter as blackmailers, to say nothing of myself, whom he
ilncludes in the accusation, lie bids fair to sinlk as low as he
once stood high."
4TS
0
0 
0 
0
NKV,T,-T
?I, 
CHAPTER XXVI.
"MUTUAL FRIEND MOULTON'S" CRUSHING MfANIFESTO.-HE
TELLS ALL HE KNOWS. -MR. BEECHER AND MRS. TILTON HAD
ADMITTED TO HIM THEIR ACTS OF ADULTERY.-BOWEN'S
MACHINATIONS.-ELIZABETH'S CONFESSION, RETRACTION,
AND ADMISSION THAT SHE IS INCAPABLE OF UTTERING THE
TRUTH.-HOW BEECHER USED MOULTON TO COVER HIS
TRACKS. —ISABELLA BEECHER HOOKER'S FREE LOVE FAN CIES.-REV. THOS. K. BEECHER SEES NO HOPE FOR HENRY,
AND EXCLAIMS: " HANDS OFF UNTIL HE IS DOWN."-A FEAR FUL PICTURE OF LYING, PRIEVARICATION, AND PLOTTING. THE BLACKMAIL STORY EXPLODED.-PLYMOUTHI CHURCH
DRIVEN INTO SILENCE.
H    EN  the events recorded in the last chapter had been
made public, and the people had learned that Mutual
Friend Moultou hLad returned to the city, and was preparing a
statement in defence of himself, additional interest centered
in the case.  The press of the country, withl few exceptions,
had accepted MAfr. Beecher's defence as an earnest of his innocence of adultery.  The change in public sentiment gave courage to the Plymouth Church Committee and lawyers, and it
was semi-officially ainnounced that on F'riday n)iglht, the 21st of
August the Committee would report to the Chliurcli a vindication of their pastor.  "The best laid plans of mice and men"
etc., were disarranged when it became mooted about that
Moulton's supplementary statemenit that the Committee had
suppressed, would appear in the Daily Graphic of that after                          479 
GREAT ECI[TEME-VT.
noon.  The Committee were alarmed, for they knew that the
publication of Moulton's statement would render a vindication
of A[r. Beecher on the evidence, impossible.   The Committee
consequently met and adjourned, after deciding upon the postpoinemenit of the presentation 6f their report in vindication of
Ilenry Ward Beechler.   The first edition of the  Gralphic appeared at noon, conitaining several pages of fac simziles of letters
very damaging to the p'Lstor, and the announcement that tlhe
half past two o'clock edition would contain an exclusive col)y
of Moulton's statement.  Excitement ran high.   Orders for
extra copies poured in from all quarters; newsboys were alive
to the importance of the document, and when the hlour arrived(
for the appearance of the extra, the scene about the office of
the Graphic and its bralches reminded one of war times.  An
immense number was sold, and on the following day a special
edition was put to press to sul)l)ly the demland for orders of the
previous day that the plLblisllers were unable to fill.   Many of
the other evening journals issued extras made  up) from  the
Grapl/ic, to whomi  the document was giveln exclusively by Mr.
Moulton.
The following is the letter of Mr. Moulton, issued as a preface to the statement lie had supplied to the Conmmittee, days
before, and which they had(l suppressed:  To TlEI PUBLIC:-I became a party almost accidentally in the unhlappy
controversy between Mr. ieeclier and Mr. Tilton.  I had been a friend of
Mr. Tilton since my boyhlood, and for Mr. Beeclier I -had always entertained the warmest admiraltion.
In 1870 I learned for the first time that Mr. 13eelier had given Mr. Tilton so grave a cause of oflence tlhat if tllc truthl slould be -made public a
great national calanmity would ensue.  I believed that the scandal would
tend( to undermine the very foundations of social order, to lay low a beneficent power for good in our coulntry, and blast the prospects and btli,ghlt tlhe
family of one of thle most brilliant and promising of the rising men of tile
generation.  Thlis disaster-as I deemed it and still regard it-I determined
to try and avert.
For nearly four years I haf[ labored nmost assiduously to save bothl of
these men from tile cbnsequences of thleir acts, whlethler of unwisdomn or
0
480 
MO ULTON TO THE P UB L I4.
passion-acts which have already seriously involved them in a needless
and disastrous quarrel, whichl is made the pretext of pouring on the coiimunity a flood of impurity and scandal deeply aflect ng their own fanmilies,
and threatening like a whlirlpool, if not stifled, to draw into its vortex tlle
peace of mind and good repute of a host o, others.  More thlan all, I saw
that, because of the " transgression of anothler," innocent chlildren woul(l
be burdened withl a load of obloquy whllichl would weighl most heavily and
cruelly on their young lives.
All these considerations determined me  to take an active part in the
transactions which hlave since become so notorious.
This decision involved ilie in great anxiety and labor, for which the hope
of saving these interests could be my only conipensation.  Even that reward has now failed me, and instead of it an attempt is made to throw on
mne a part of the slhame and disgrace whlich b)elongs to the actors alone.
One of thenm, whlom I have  zealously endeavored to serve, has seen fit,
with all the power of his vast influence an(d matclless art as a writer, to
visit on me the penalties of his own wrong doilng, at tlle saiiie timie pub)licly
appealing to me to miake known the truth, as if it would justify his attack
on Dle.
I feel that the ftilure of my exertions has not been owing to any fault of
nmilne.  I worked  faitlifully and sincerely, under thle alniost daily advice
and direction of Mr. Beeclher, with his fullest approbation, confidence and
beaming gratitude, until, as I think, in an evil hour for liiiii, ]lIe took othler
advisers.  I have failed, and now, strangely enougli, lie seelis to desire to
punIishi me for the sad consequences of the folly, insincerity and wickedness of his present counselors.
MIr. Beecher, in his stateiient, testifies that lie brought on this investigation withlout miy knowledge or advice.
Even while mourning what seenled to me  the utter unwisdloni of this
proceeding, I have done all I could lIonorabl)ly do to avert tlhis catastrophe.
I have kept silent, although I saw with sorrow that this silence was deeply
injuring( the firiend of niy boylhood.
Pronipted l)y a sense of duty-not to one only but to all the parties involved-I denied the united and public appeals niade t() me by Mr. Beceller and Mr. Tilton to produce thle evidence in mny possession; partly
because I felt that thle injury tlhereby done to MIr. Tilton  was far less
calanmitous tlhal the destruction which must come on all tlhe interests I had
for years tried to conserve, and' especially on Mr. Becelier himnself, if I
should coiiiply with tlhis request.
But I stated clearly that in onenmergency I should speak-namely, in
defence of niy own integrityof action if it should be wantonly assailed.
21
t
481
6 
482    THE TRUT-i[, THE WHOLE I'l?UTH, ETC.
I left Mr. Beecher untrammeled by the facts in my hands, to  defend
himselif, without the necessity of attacking me.
By the publislhed(l accusations of Mr. Beecher affecting my character, my.
own self-respect, the advice of friends and public justice make it imiperative that "the truthl, the whole truth and nothing but the trutli" should
now be fully declared. 
I give to the public, therefore, the statement I had prepared to bring before the committee, without the alteration or addition of a sentence and
scarcely a word-certainly without the chlange of a single syllable-since
I read Mr. Beecher's statelment and evidence, or because of it.
This paper I withdrew from the committee wlhen becfore it in a last
despairing effort for peace, at the carnest solicitation of soime of Mr.
Becchler's friends, and with tllhe approval also of someC of the most v.alued
of mIy own.
I (lo not now give it to the committee, but to the public, because its prod(luction concerns myself rather than tlhe principals in the strife.  It is
nade for my own protection against public accusation and not to aid either
party to the controversy.
For the needless and cruel necessity that now so iimp)eratively compels
its production I have the most profound grief-for which  thlere is but a
sitngle alleviation-namely, that the disclosure of the facts at this time can
scarcely work more harm to him whom  I at first tried to befriend by witlhholding thenm fronm the p)ul)lic, than they would have caused him in January,
1871, when, but for my interference, the public most assuredly would have
been put in possession of the whole truth.
This publication, to which Mr. Beeclher forces me renders fruitless four
years of constant and sincere efforts to save himn.  It leaves him and MArs.
Tilton in almost the same position in which I found thlem, excepting in so
far as their own late disingenuous untruthfulness in their solemin statements may lower tlhem in the estimation of tlhe world.
I reserve to myself the right ]hereafter to review the statements of Mr.
Beeclher in contrast with the facts as shown by the documents  herewith
subjoined and others wlichl I have at my hand-tlthe production of whlichl
did not seem to be necessary until some portion of the published evidence
of Mr. Beecher demanded contradiction.
FRANCIS D1). MIOULTON.
STATEMIENT OF FRANCIS D. MOULTON.
GENTLEMEN OF TIlE CO0IMITTEE:-I need not repeat to you
my great, very great sorror to feel obliged to answer your invitation, and, with tlle permission of thlle parties, to put before 
MO ULTON'S ACQ UA INTANCE WIT B. & T.  483
you the exact facts which have been committed to me or come
to my knowledge in the unhappy affair under investigation.
In so doing I shall use 11no words of characterization of any of
them or of inculpation of the parties, lior shall I attempt to
ascribe motives, save when necessary to exactly state thie fact,
leaving the occurrences, their acts of omission and commission,
to be interpreted by themselves. In giving conversations or
narrative I, of course, canll ill most cases give only the substance of the first and will attempt to give words only when
they so impress themselves upon my mind as to remain in nmy
memory, and of the latter only so much as seems to me material.
I have known Mr. Theodore Tilton since 1850 intimately, il
the kindest relations of social and personal friendship.  I have
known Rev. Henry Ward Beecher since 1869, and then casually
as an acquaintance iand an attendant upon his ministrations
up to the beginning of the occurrences of which  I shall
speak.
Since Mr. Tilton's valedictory, as editor of the Inidependlent,
on tthle 22d of December, 1870, I inferred that there had been
some           differences between himself and Mr. Henry C. Bowen,
th     e   proprietor, but learning that Tilton had been retained as
contributor to that journal and editor of the Brooklyn Union,
of which Bowen was also proprietor, I supposed that the differenii ces  were not personal or unkind.  Up to that time, altho      ughu  I  had    been a frequent visitor at Tilton's house and had
seen himself and Mrs. Tilton under all the plihases of social
intercourse, I     had never heard or known of the slightest disagreemen t         or unkindness existing between theni, but had believed their marital relations were almost unexceptionally
pleasant. O n the 26th of December, 1870, being at Mir. Tilton's house,      he came home from anl interview with Mr. Bowen,
and         told me   withl some excitement of manner that he had just
had a conference with Bowen, and that in that interview
Bowen             had m ade certain accusations against Beecher, and had
challenged h im (Tilton), as a matter of duty to the publ)ic, to
write       an open letter, which  Iowen was to take to Beecher, of
which         he showed me the original draft, which is as follows:
[FIRST 1)RAFT-MARRED "A."]
1)ecember 26th, 1870-BROOKLYN.
HIENRY WARD BEECHER: SIR:-I demand, that for the reasons which you explicitly understand,
0 
TIL TON'S LETTER TO BEECIIER.
you immediately cease from the ministry of Plymouth Chlurch, and that
you quit the city of Brooklyn as a residence.
(Signed)                                  TIIEODORE TILTON,
Tilton explained that the words "for reasons which you explicitly understand" were interlined at the reIquest of Bowen,
and hle further stated that he told Bowen that he was prepared
to believe his charges because Beeclher had made improper advances to  irs. Tilton.   Surprised,at this  I  ake-d him,
"What?" when he replied, "Don't ask me; I can't tell you."
I then said, " Is it possible you could have been so foolish as to
sign that letter on the strength of Bowven's assertion and not
have Bowen sign it too, although, as you say, he was to carry
it to Beecher?"  He answerecd, "M AIr. Bowen gave me his word
that he would sustaini the charges and adduce the evidence to
prove them whenever called upon."  I said, "I fear you will
find yourself mistaken.  IIas the letter gone?"  Hle answered,
"Bowen said he would take it immediately."  I afterwards
learned  from  Beecher  that Bowen  had done so, b(cause
on the 1st of January following Beecher gave me the
copy he received, as I find by a memorandum matde at the time
on the envelope, and I find by a later memorandum on the
envelope that the original draft was given to me by Tilton on
the 5th of the same month.  I insert here the following memor,tidum of the facts above stated, made at the time, giving
thl  hour when it was made:
BROOKLYN, Dec. 26th, 1870.
Theodore Tilton informed me to-day tl.it lie had sent a note to Mr.
Beeclier, of which Mr. t11. C. Bowen was tlie bearer, demanding that lihe
(Beecher) should retire from the pulpit and quit the city of Brooklyn.
The letter was an open one.  H. C. Bowen knew the contents of it, and
said that he (Bowen) would sustain Tilton in this denmand.
3.4o P. M.
In a day or two after that MIr. Tilton called on me at my
house antd said that he had sent word to Bowen that lie was
going to call on Beecher within half an hour or shortly; that
Bowen came up into the office with great anger and told himn
if hlie should say to Beecher what he (Bowen) had told him
concerning his (Beecher's) adulteries he would dismiss him
from the I)ndepen(lenit and the Union.  Tilton told him that
he had never been influevled by threats and he would not be
in the present case, and he subsequently received Bowen's note
of dismissal.
t
4S4 
TILTON TO BOWEl.,
What those charges were and the account of the interview
will atll)pear in the tfollowingf letter addressed to Bowven by Tilton, beariog date the 1st of Janutary, 1871, which also gives in
more substance and more detail what Tilton had said to me
in the two conversations which I have mentioned:
BROOKLYN,  Jan. 1st, 1871.
AfR. HENRY C. BOWEN:  SI.R-I re ceived last evening your sudden notice breaking my two contracts-one with the Independent, the other with the Brooklyn Union.
With reference to this act of yours I will make a plain statenlent of facts.
It was during the ear'y part of the rebellion- (if I recollect aright) when
you fir:t intimated to me that the Rev. Ilenry WAard Beecthr  h(ad commnitted acts of adultery for which, if you should expose lim, lie would be
driven fronm his pulpit. From that time onward your references to this
subject were frequcent, and always accompanied with the exhibition of a
deep-seated injury to your heart.
In a letter which you addressed to me from Woodstock, June 16th, 1868,
referring to this subject, you said:-" I sometimes feel that I must break
silence, thlat I must no longer suffer as a dumb man, and be nmade to bear
a load of grief most unjustly.  One word fronm nme would imakc a revoltlion
throughout Christendom, I had almnost said-and you know it.  *  *  *
You have just a little of the evidence fronm the great volunie in nly
possession.  *  *  *  I ant not pursuing a phantom, but solemnly brooding over an awful reality."
The underscorings in this extract are your own.  Subsequently to the
date of this letter, and at frequent intervals from then till now, you have
repeated the statement that you could at any moment expel Ilenry Ward
Beecher from Brooklyn. You have reiterated the same thing not only to
me but to otli('rs.
Moreover, during the year just closed your allusions to the subject were
uttered with more feeling than heretofore, and were not unfrequently
coupled with your enlmphlatic declaration that Mr. Beeclher ought not to be
allowed to occupy a public position as a Christian preacher and teacher.
On the 26thl, of )ecenibl)er, 1870, at an interview in your house at which
Mr. Oliver Jolhnson  an, I were present, you spoke freely and indignantly
against Mr. Beecher is ian unsafe visitor among the families of llis congregation.  You alluded by name to a woman, now a widow, whose hlusband's
deathl you have no doubt was  hastened by his knowledge  that  Mr.
Beechler had maintained with her an improper intimacy. You avowed
your knowledge of several other ases of Mr, Beeclier's adulteries.  Moreover, as if to leave no doubt on the mind of either Mr. Johnson or mnyself,
.485
6 
CGONTRACT BROKEN,
you informed us that Mr. Beecher had made to you a confession of his
guilt, arnd hlad withl tears implored your forgiveness. After Mr. Johnson
retired from this interview you related to me  the the case of a woman
whom you said (as nearly as I can recall your words) that           *       *
*       *       *       *       *
During your recital of the tale you were full of anger toward Mr.
Beeclher,  You said with terrible eruphasis, that lie oughlt not to relmain a
week longer in his pulpit.  You irmmediately suggested that a demland
should be made upon him to quit his sacred office.  You volunteered to
bear to him such a denland in the form of an open letter, which you would
present to him with your owii hand and you pledged yoursel'f to sustain the
demand which tids letter should make-iianiely, that lie should for reasons
which hlie explicitly knew, innmmediately cease from his ministry of Plyliouth
Church and retire from Brooklyn.
'I'Thle first draft of the letter did not contain the phrase "for reasons
which lie explicitly knew," and these words (or wor,lis to this effect) were
incorporated in a second, at your motion. You urged furthermore (and
very emplhatically) that the letter should demand not only Mr. Beechler's
al)dicatioii of his pulpit, but cessation of his writing for tlhe Clhristian
Ution, a point on whlich you were overruled.  This letter you presented
to Mr. Beecher at Mr. Freeland's house.  Shortly after its presentation you
sought an interview with nme in the editorial office of the Brooklyn Union,
dl-ring which, with unaccountable emniotion in your nianner, your faice livid
with rage, y&'u threatened with a loud voice that if ever I should inform
lMr. Beec(hier of the statements whicll you llhad made concerning his adultery,
or should compel you to adduce the evidence on whlich you agreed to sustain the demand for Mr. Beecher's witlhdr.awal from Brooklyn, you would
imtaediately deprive me of my  engagenient to write for the iidependlent
and to e:it thle Brooklyn Union, and that in case I should cvcr atterpi)t to
enter tlle offices of those journals you would have me ejected by force.  I
told you that I should inform Mr. Beeclier or anybody else, according to
the dictate of my judgment, uninfluenced by any threat from iiiy ( mployer.
You then excitedly retired from my prcsence.  IItrdly had your violent
words ceased ringing in my ears when I received your suiimi'aiiry notices
breaking my contracts with thle Indelecndeeit and thle Brooklyn UI,ionl.  To
the foregoing narrative of facts 1 have only to add my surprise and regret
at the sudlden interruption, by your own act, of what has beeni on my part
towards you, a faithful friendship of fifteen years.
Truly yours,
TILEODORE TILTON.
In this leter I    ve   ied the sentence qoted as te
In this letter I hiave omitted the sentence quiotedl as thle
4S6
4 
NO UL TON'S STA T~JIE. NT.
words of Mr. Bowen, after thle words, "as nearly as I call recall your words, that"-simply desiring to say thcat it contained
a chlrge of rape, or sometiling very nearly like ravishment, of
a womin other thlan iMrs. Tiiton, told in words that are unfit
to be spl)read(l upon the record, but, if desired, the original is for
the inspection of the committee.
-On F'riday evening, the 30th of l)ecember, being the night
of the Plymouth Church prayer meeting, Tilton came  to me
and said, in substance, that by his wvife's re(luest le had determiined to see Beecher, in order to show to leeclier a confession
of his wife of the intercourse l)etweeni them, whiclh lie (Tilton)
hadt never up to that time mentioiled to him  (lBeeche(), aidt
the fact of the confession, of which his wife liad t)old h-im llat
s!e had never told Beecchler, although her confession  had been
miade in July previous iii writing, which vwriting tie ('l'ilton)
letdt afterwards destroyed  but that his wife, fe,aring that, if
the Bowen accusations against Beecher were made public, tlhe
whole matter would be known and her owi  conduct with
Beecher become exposed, had renewed her confession in her
own handwriting, whiei he handed to me to read, wvhich was
the first knowledg,e I had( of its existence.
Tilton did not tell me how  his wife came to make the confession in July, nor did I at that time or ever after ask.  Ind,:ed, I may state here, once for all, that I refrained from askilig confessions of the acts of all the parties further than tll(y
chose to make  tliem to me  voluntarily for the I)purpose for
which I was acting.
Tilton wanted me to go down and ask Beecher to come up
and( see him at my house, whlichl I did.  I said to MIr. Beecher,
" Ir. Tilton wants you to come and see him a[t my house immnediately."  Ile asked, " AVWliat for?"  I replied, "lie wants
to make some statement to you  in reference to your relations
with his family."  lie then called to some one in the back
room to go down and say that he slould not be at the prayer
meeting, and we went out together.
It was storming at the time, vlen he remarked,  " There is
an appropriateness in this stormI," and aslked me, " What can
I do?   vWhat can I do?"  I said, " SIr. lBeeclier, I am  not a
Christian, but if you wish I will show you how well a heathlen
can serve you."  We then went to my house, and I showed
him into the chamber over the parlor, where MIr. Tilton wos,
and left them togethle.  In about an hour MIr. Beecher came
down and asked me if 1 had seCenl the confession of Elizabeth.
4S i' 
BEECHER GETS THE RETRACTIOY.
I said I had.  Says he,' This will kill me," and asked me to
walk out with him. I did so, and we walked to Mr. Tilton's
house together, and hle went in.  On the way he said, "This
is a terrible catastrophe; it comes upon me as if struck by
ligh tning."
Hle went into Tilton's house atid I returned home. Within
an hour he returned to my house, and we left my house again
together and I walked with him to hlishouse.  Tilton remained
at my house while Beecher was absent at Tilton's house, and
when he returned there was no conversation between them.
When we arrived at Beecher's house lie wanted me to standl by
him ill this emergency, and procure a reconciliation if possible.
I told him I would, because the interests of women, children
and families were involved, if for no other reason. That ended
the interview that night.  During this evCIiing nothing was
said by Mr. Beeclher as to the truth or falsity of Mrs. Tiltoii's
confession, nor did he inform me that he had obtained from
her any recantation of the confession, which I afterwards
learned he had done.
I returned to my house and had some conversation with
Tilton, in vwhichl he told me that he had recited to Beechlerthe
details of the confessioln of his wife's adulteries, and the renmark which Beecher made was, "This is all a dream,'I'lieodore," and that that was all the answer that Beecher made to
him. I then advised Tilton that for the sake of his wife and
family and for the sake of Beechler's family, the matter should
be kept quiet and hlushed up.  The next morning, as I was
leaving home for business, Tilton came to my house and with
great anger said that Beecher had done a mean act; that lie
had gone from that interview of last night to his house and
procured from Elizabeth a recantation and retraction of her
confession.  He said, for that act he would smite him; that
there could be no peace. He said, "You see that what I hlave
told you of the meanness of that mani is now evident."  Tiltonii s.id that Beecher, at the interview of last night, had asked
his permission to go and see Elizabeth, and lie told him hlie mnight
go, which statement was confirmed by Becher himself, and
Beecher left him for that purpose.  I said to Tilton, "Now,
don't get angry; let us see if even this cannot be arranged. I
will go down and get that retraction from him."
I was then going to my business, so that I was unable to go
that morning, bullt went ttt eveniing, saw Beecher, and told
him that I tihoughlt he had been doing a very mean and treacli
488 
GETS BACK HIS CONFE,SS2ON.
erous act-treacherous, first toward me, from whom lie wanted
help, in that he did not tell me onil our way to his house last
nioht hwhat hle had procured from Mrs. Trilton, aiid that he
could not expect my friendship in this matter unless he acted
trutliftllv and honorably towatrd wne.  I furthler said  " Mr.
Beechlel, you have had criminal intercourse with Mrs. Tilton;
you hitve d:,n  great injuly to Tilton otherwise.  Now, when
you ait co()iiftoite(d with it, you ask permission of the man to
ng'cin i' isit his house, and you get f om that woman who has
coiifsse I you have ruined her, a recantation and retraction of
the truthl for your mere personal safety. That won't save
you.
At that interview he admitted with grief and sorrow the
f    act             of his sexual relation s  with Mrs. Tilton, exp)ressed some
indio gnation             that  she     had Iot t old her husband, and that in
consequence of being in ignorance of that fact he h(td been
w    alking upon a volcaio -refer ring to what hlie had done in
connection  with Bowen an        d  withl reference to Tilton's familv.
lie  said that            he had  sympathized with Bowen, and had taken
s ides                 with him as against T ilton, in consequence of stories
w      hich                             were in circulatio n in regai,d( to him, and especially of
one specific case                      where  he ha d im proper relations witlh a won    man  wohom lIe named, an   d  t o   whom a letter from  his wife will
nm       a k e a         part of this statement,  and  had so stated to Bowen.
And  he told me that he would          write to Bowen and withldraw
t       ho s e charges, and  gave me the rough draft of a letter lwhich
he                    wrote and  sent to Bowen,     which letter is here produced,
marked   "C.":
BROOKLYN, Jan. 2d, 1871.
MY DEAR MR. BOWEN:-Since   I saw you last Tuesday, I have reasoi
to think that the only cases of which I spoke to you in regard to Mr.
Tilton were exaggerated in being rep)orted to me, an l I should be unwilling
to have anythling I said, though it was but a little, weigh on your iiiind( in a
matter so important to his welfare.  I ami informed by one whlose judlgment
and integrity I greatly rely, and who has the means of forning an opinion
bettcr thant any of us, that lie k::ows the whole matter about Mrs.,
and that the stories are not true, and thllat the same is the case with other
stories.  I do not wishi any reply to this.  I thlouglht it only due to justice
tlhat I should say so much.                Truly yours,
(Signed)                      e                       tI. W.  BE:FCHER.
Mr. Beecher told mxe that Mfrs. Beecher  and  himself,  without knowing of the confession of Mrs.  Tilton to her lhusband,
21*
489 
AN APPEAL FOR PEACE.
had been expressing great sympathy toward Mrs. Tilton and
taken an active interest with her against her husband.  I said,
Mr. Beecher, I want that recantation; I have come for it."
"Well," said he, " what shall I do without it?"  I repllied, " I
doin't know.   I can tell you what will happen with it."  He
asked, " What will you do if I give it you?,"  I answered, " I
will keep it as I keep the confession.  It you act honorably I
will protect it with my life, as I will pro)tect the otherr with my
life.  Mr. Tilton asked for that confession this morning, and
I said, i will never give it to you; you shall inot have it from
my hands until I have exhausted every effort for peace.'"  Mr.
Bcechl,r gave me back the paper, the original of wllichl  I now
produce in  I Mrs. Tilton's hlandwriting, marked "D," as follows:
December 30th, 1870.
Wearied with importunity and weakened by sickness, 1 gave a letter
inculpating my friend Henry Ward Beecher, under assurances that that
would remove all difficulties between me and my husband.  Tlitt letter I
now revoke.  I was persuaded to it, almost forced, wleni  I was in a weakened state of mind.  I regret it and recall all its statements.
(Signied)                                                E. t. TILTON.
I desire to say explicitly Mr. Beeclier has never offered any iniproper
solicitations, but has always treated mie in a manner becoming a Christian
and a gentleman.
(Signed)                                        ELIZABETI R1. TILTON.
Afterward Mr. Tilton left with me another letter, dated the
same night of the recantation, December 30thl, bearing on the
same topic, to be kept with the papers, which was in his wife's
handwriting.  It is here produced and marked "E," as follows:
December 30th, 1870-Midnight.
MY  DE)AR HUSBAND-I desire to leave with you before going to sleep a
statement that Mr. IIenry Ward Beecher called upon me this evening,
asked me if I would defend him against any accusation in a council of miniisters, and I replied solemnly that I would in case the accuser was any other
person than my husband.  lie  (11. W. B.)  dictated a letter which  I
copied as my own, to be used by him as against any other accuser except
my husband.  This letter was designed to vindicate Mr. Beecher agailnst
all other persons save only yourself. I was ready to give him this letter
because he said with pain that    A letter in your hands addressed to  inm,
dated December 20thl, " lia struck him dead and ended his usefulness."
0
490 
ASKS I'HEODORE'S FORGIVENESS.
You and I are pledged to do our best to avoid p)ublicity.  God grant a
speedy end to all further anxieties.               Afliectionately,
(Signed)                                                      ELIZABETH.
Whecn I went home with the recantation I found Tilton there
and showed it to hilmn.  He expressed his surprise and gratificatioii that I should have been able to get it, and I then showed
to liim how very foolish it would 1have been in the mornilg to
have proceed(led atngrily against, Bfecl Ie.  I made another ail)l)eal
for ptece,  saying  tlhat, n,tLwitlistat.ding  great  difficulties
appeared in the way, it tlhey were pro(perly dealt with tley
could be beaten out of the wavty.  lie express(ed his willingness
and desire for peace.
Whien I saw Beecher I made an agreement, at his request, to
go and see him on Sunday, January 1st.  I went to his house
in accordance with the engagement.   He took me into his
study, and then told me again ot' his great surprise that Elizabetl  should have made the confession of his criminal commerce with her to her husband without letting himi (Beecher)
know anything about it, making his destruction at any moment possible, and without warning to him.   He expressed his
gleat grief' at this wrong whiclh hle had done as ta mitnister and
friend to Tllheodore, and at his request I took petn aild paper
and he dictated to me the following paper, all of which is in
mny hLndwriting except the words, "I have tiusted this to
Aloulton in confidence," and the signature, which latter are in
Lr. Beecher's.  It is here produced and marked " F.":
BROOKLYN, Jan. 1st, 1871.
[In trust with F. D. Moulton].
MY DEAR FRIFND MOIJLTON:-I ask through you Theodore  Tilton's
forgiveness, and I humnble myself before him as I do before my God.  He
would have been a better man in my circumstances than I have been.   I
can ask nothing except that lie will rememlber all the other lhearts that
would achle.  I will not plead for myself.  I even wish I were dead; but
others must live and suffer.
I will die before any one but myself is implicated,  All my thoughts are
running toward mny friends, toward tlhe poor child lying there and praying
witli her folded hands, she is guiltless-sinned against;  bearing  the
transgression of another.  IIcr forgiveness I have.  I  ihumbly pray to
God that he may put it-into the lihrt of lher husband to fobrgive me.
I have trusted this to Mqlton in confidence.
(Signed)                                            11. W.  BEECHr:R.
491
6 
RATES OF RECONCILrA TION.
This was intrusted to me in confidence, to be shown only to
Tilton, which  I did.  It hadl( rtference to no other fahet or act
than the confession of sexual intercourse between Beecher and
Mrs. Tilton, which he at that interview confessed, and denied
not, but confessed.  Hle also at other interviews subsequently
held between us ii relation to thle uinfortunate aff;tir unqualifiedly confessed that hle had been guilty of adultery withl Mrs.
Tilton, and always in aspirit of grief and sorrow at tlhe enormity of the crime he had committed against Mr. Tilton's f'tmily.  At such times he would speak withl much feeling of the
relation he had sustained toward them as p)astor, spiritual adviser and trusted friend.  His self-condemniation at the ruiin
he -had wvrought under such ciIuCSlnstalnces was full and complete, and at times le was so bowed down with grief in consequeniice of the wrong he had done that hle threatened to put an
end to his life.  Ie also gave to me the letter, the first draft
of wvilich, marked "A," is itbove given, in reference to whichi
he said that Bowen hliad given it to him; that he had told
Bowen that Tilton must be crazy to write such a letter as
that; that he did not understand it, and that Bowen said to
him, "I will be your friend in this matter."  Hie then made a
statement which Tilton had made to me at my house of the
charge that Bowen had made to him (Tilton); said that Bowen had been very treacherous toward Tilton as well as toward
himself, because he (B13eechier) had had a reconciliation with
Bowen, of which he told me the terms, and that Bowen had
never in his (Beeclier's) presence spoken of, or referred to any
allegation of crime or wrong-doing on his part with any woman whatever.  He gave mec, in generdl teruns, the reconciliation, and afterwazrds gave me twvo memoranda, which I here
produce, which slhow the terms of the reconciliation.  The
first is in the handwriting of Bowen, containing five items,
whichi Beecher assured me were the terms whiichi Bowen claimed
should be the basis of reconciliation.  It is as follows, and is
marked " G ":  First-Report and publish sermons and lecture-room talks.
Secot(l —Neew edition Plymouth Collectioni and Freelaid's
interest.
Thi'rd-Explanations to churclh.
Foturlh-Write me a letter.
F'flth-r-etract in evet quaLrter what has been said to my
in.jury.
The second paper is a pencil memorandum of the reconcili
492 
MR. HOWAPRD PPROTESTS.
ation with Bowen in Beecher's lhandwriting, giving an acconnt
of the affair.  It is markced "II," as foll()ws:  About February, 1870, it a long interview at Mr. Fre,(ltnd's
hlouse, for the l1purpl)ose of lihaving t full and fil.l recontciliation
between Bowen Iand Beecher, Mr. Bpweini  stated his grievanaces,
whichi were all either of a btisiiless nature or of my treatment
of him 2)ersonally (Is p)er memorandum in writing).
After hours ot conterence everytlhing was aljusted.  We
shook  hands.  WVe pledged each  othler to work  hencefortlh
without jar or break. I said to him:-" Mr. Bowen, itf yo(tU
hear anything of me not in accordance with thlis agreement of
hlarmony do not let it rest.  Come straight to me at once, and
I will do the same by you.
He agreed.  In the lccttlr, room I sta.tedl that all our differences were over, and that we were friends again.  This)publie,
recognition hlie was present and heard, and expressed hims(lf
as greatly pleased with.  It wis after all this that I asked MIr.
Iloward to helt) me carry out this reconciliation, and to call on
Mr. Bowien and to remove the I ttle difference between thlem.
Mr. Howard called, expresse(d his gratificletion.
Tlieni it wais that vwiliotut aly provocation Ihe (Mr. Bowen)
told Mr. Howard that tl'is reconciliation did not include one
matter, that lhe (Bowven) "lkneev lt(att atbout Mr. Beeclher whiclh
if he sliould speak it woildt drive Mr. Beecher outt of Brooklyni."  Mr. Iowavtd  )rotested wAith lhorror agaist   suchl a statement, stlying:-":Ir. Bowen this is terrible.  No man should
make suchl a statement unless he has absolute evidence."  To
this Mr. Bowen replied that he had this evidence, and said,
pointedly, thlat he (Iloward) miglht go to Mr. Beecher, aiid
thlat M1I. Bee(her wotl(l neveir give his consent that hle (Bowen)
should tell MIr. Ioward this secret.
Mr. Bowen at no timie had ever made known to Mr. Beecher
whait this secret was, and tle hints wlichl Mr. Beechler h,ad
had of it led him to think it was another iatlter, and not the
slander which hle nowv finds it to be.
Iin that interview Beeclier was very earnest in his expression
of regret at what hid been done against Tilton in relatioin to
his business connectioln with Boweno, and besought nme to do
everything I could to save him from the destruction which
would come upon him if the story of hlis (Beechler's) inter course withl  Mrs. Tilton slboiild be divulge(d.   In compliance
withl  tlhe directions oi Beecher, January 1st, 1871, I took the
paper.marked( "F," which hlie had dictated to ime, to Tiltoii,
493
41
0 
jNO UL TOiV i[EETS BO WEN.
detailed to him Beecher's exp)ressions of regret and sorrow,
s pok e    to him of his agoony of i     miid,  (Ind again appealed to him
to                     have the  whole    matter elkep-)t  quiet, if for no other reasoln,
for the sake of                          the children.''o    this Tiltoni assented.  I found
him writiig, the letter                   to Boeweil  of tihat date, wlhich I have bef    o     r    e      produced marked "  B."  lle    told me also of the contracts
he                    had with           Bowen with a penalty,   wiheil lie left the lJ1de?e)cdeit,                  to be editor of tthe Brooklyn Uitio)b a d  special  co,iitiibut      or             to the ltleurpenden1t, at a  salary of $100 per week, withl anothe r salary of equal                    amount f or his editorship of tlhe Brooklyn Unioit and a portio          n        of t he  p)rofits. Copies of these cont ra       cts I         cannot produce, because both papers were deliver-d to
Bowen after the arbitration of the controversy of whlichl I am
a b out to speak. These contracts provided that they could be
terminated by mutual consent or upon six months' notice, or
u     p    o     n the death of either party, or at once by the party who
w i shed to break or annul         them paying to the other the stnum of
$2,500.  Tilton                          insisted that that sun, with his arrears of salary, was justly due him, a        nd that    lie should bring suit against
Bowen                    unless he settled, and   he gave me an authorization to
settle his affairs with Bowen, which paper I gave to Mr. Bowei wwhen I                                went  down to treat with him, retaining this copy,
ma           rked  " I     ":
BROOKLYN, JAN. 2(1, 1871%
Mr. H- C. B(:;WE.'N:   SIR- I liciebv authorize Mr. Francis D). Moulton to iact in my behalf in
full settlement with you of all my accounts growing1  out of my contracts
for services to thle Independent and the Brooklyn Daily UTiion.
(Signed)                                      TIIE.OI)OR: TILTON.
Acting in the interest of Beeclher.  I told Tilton that tlhis
controversy with Bowen, if possible, should be peacefully settled lest it might reopen the other matters relating to Beeclher's conduct in Tilton's family and the charges made by Bowen
ag~tinst Beecher.   To this Tilton assented, giving me the authorization above quoted.
At imy earliest convenience I called upon Bowen at his office
upon this )business, telling him that 1I wanted himn to settle with
me, as I was authorized by Tilton by this letter (hlanding himtn
the letter) to settle for the breaking of the contract with Tilton as contributor to theindependent, and as editor of the
Brooklyii Uiion.  I fso lhantled him an article written by Tlton for the Iidependent, which lhe (Tilton) claimed was iU part
494
0 
MO ULTON MEETS BO WEN.5
performance  of his contract, whichl article was subsequently
returned to Tiltonl by Bowen thlrotugh me.  Bowen said thlat
he did not consider that hlie ow(d Tilton any money at all for
breaking the contraicts-tlhtt hie hlid termiintted tlhemn, having,
in llis olinion, suffic(ient rcasoins for 4o doin.  " AVell," I said,
"Mr. B)weli, your controcts are specific."  lie said he " kn(w
they we,e, iltt tlhey provided  f,Jr aih)itiation in case of any
differences between the parties."  I rep)liect, in substance, thlat
the arbitration only iefelrred to differences between the I)-irties
as to tlhe articles to be I)ublslised as editor alnd contributor by
T'iltoin and as to Bowen's conduct as publisher, and that there
was a fixed sum as )penalty for breachl of the contracts.  Tlhe
iiltervicv terminiated witlh his refusal to settle tlhe claim I deman-tded, which refusal I rel)orted to Tilton, advising Mlim still
not to sne B(owen.
The following correspondence is with reference to my meeting Alr.                  Bowen  oil  this   business.   The letter marked "J 1" is
my note to Alr. BIowe(i, an        d  h is reply, marked "J 2 ":
BROOKLYN, Jan. 9th, 1871.
MR. HF,NRY C. BOwFEN:  I)EAR SIK-Referring to a recent interview with you, I would state that
in consequence of illness I hlave been detained at hlome, and I deem it of
great importance to the interest of all concerned in the affairs about whlich
we talked, that you and 1 slhould ieet at an early momnient.  If you will call
at my lhouse, No. 143 Clinton Street, I shiall be glad to sce you at anly
lhour convenient to youself to-morrow.
Truly yours,
F. D. MOULTON.
90 WILlsOW  STREET, BROOKLYN, Janl, 10th, 1871.
SIR:-I am not very weil but will try to call at your hlouse Thlursday
evening at eighlt o'clock.  I am engag,ed to-morrow evening.   I can go
this evening if you will inform mie tlhat it will be convenient for you to see
me.  Unless I learn froni you to the contrary I will see you on Thlursday
evening.                                 Very respectfully,
hIENRY C. BOWIEN.
Mr. F. D. MOULTON.
inl pursuance of this correspondence we  met at my lhouse
and entered into negotiations about the settlement of the coIntract with Tilton.  At  that time, during the interview, I
showed Bowen the letter of Jinuary 1st, of Tilton, (which he,
Tilton, had placed in ml hands to use in accordance with my
495 
BO TRE.,N AND OLIVER JOHrVSOX.
own discretion), heretofore given, marked "B."  Bowen, during the reading of the letter, seemed to be much excited, and
at only onte p,)int of the letter questioned the accuracy of its
statements, which states as follows: " that alluding by name
to a woman, n.)w a widow, whose lhusbttnd's death no doubt
wis hastened by his  knowledgre that 3r. Beecler had maintailned with her an improper intimacy."  To that he said, "I
didn't make that Iltusinii; Mr. Tilton made it."  I went oln to
the close of the I tt.r aund finished it, when Bowen said to me,
"Has Tilton told Ieehcler the contents of this letter?"  I
replied, " Yes, hlie lits."  Said he, " What shall I do?  What I
said at that interview was said in confidence.   We  struck
hands there, and pledged ourselves to God that no one there
present would reveal anything there spoken." I said to him,
"It would be an easy matter to confirm what you say or prove
that what you say is false.  Mr. Oliver Johnson was there, and
I have submitted this letter to Mr. Johnson, in Mr. Tilton's
presence, and he tells me that there was no obligatory confidence imposed on any of the parties concerning anything said
at this interview, save a special pledge, mutually given, that
nothing should be said concerning Mr. Beecher's demonstrations toward Mrs. Tilton.  Mr. Johnson also says-anid this
confirms what you say in regard to one point-namely, that
the allusion to the widow was made by Theodore Tilton, and
that you said you had no doubt that her hlusband's death was
caused by his knowledge of her improper intimacy with  Mr.
Beechler.  Quoting your language, he says that you said,'I
have no doubt about it whlatever.'  Mr. Johnson also says that
your statements in regard to Beecher were not intimations of
his adulteries, but plain and straightforward charges of the
same.  He &siys that you said that you knew of four or five
cases of Mir. Beecher's aduklterous intercourse with women.
Sir. Johnison says also that you at that interview plainly declared that Mr. Beeclher lhad confessed his guilt to you."  I
also said to him:-" Mr. Tilton states that you said,'I can't
stand it any longer. You and I owe a duty to society in this
matter.  That man ought not to stay anothier week inii his pulit.  It isn't sate for our fiamilies to have him in this city.'"
I also said to him:-" MIr. Johnson also states that at the interview of December 26tlth, at your house, Willow Street, you
voluntarily pledged  yor  word  to  Mr. Johnson  that you
would take no further measures in regard to Mr. Tilton, without consultation withli hiin (Mr. Johnson), and that you had
496 
MEMORAND UMS.
said substantially the same thing to him previously, during
private conversations between you and him."  I then said to
Bowen that I thought he was a very treacherous mnan, and for
this reason that I knew hle had had a reconciliation with
Beecher-or rather I was informed of it-wliilch was perfected
in the house of God, and that within forty-eight hours from
that time he had avowed to Mr. Howard that he could it' he
chose drive Mr. Beecher out of town.  I told him, further,
that I was also informed that, prior to that reconciliation, lhe
hlad made no charge against Beecher's character to Beechl(r,
but only behind his back, and I said, " iMr. Bowen, I have the
points of settlement between you and Bcecher in your own
hlandwriting, and theire is no reference to any charge of crime
of any kind against Beecher."  Mr. Bowen made no denial of
these assertions of mine, but seemed, on the contrary, al)bashed
and dejected, and ill reply to my question, "WVhat do you say
to these chlarges which you have made against Beecher?" he
declined to say anything about them, but repeated the question, " What can I do? " I answered, "I anm not your adviser;
I cannot dictate to you what course you should pursue, but
you have done great injustice to Mr. Tilton and to Mr. Beeclier
and you ought to take the earliest means of re)airing thie ilnjLury.  I should think it would be but just for you to restore
Tilton to the Ii(depend6e)lt, but I don't believe he would go
back if you should offer it to him."  His reply was, " low can
I do that now?"'  I told him I didn't know; he must find a
way to settle his own difliculties.  He again expressed his
willingness to arbitrate the question of money between himself and Tilton growing out of the contract.  I told him  that
I would not arbitrate; that a plain provision of the contract
provided that he should pay what I demanded, and hle must
fulfill it.  Mr. Bowen rose to leave, and said before leaLving,
whenever I wanted to see him he would be happy to come to
my house and confer on this subject; and he di(l, on several
subsequent occasions, visit me at my house whleiicer I sent
for him to consult on this matter.  The mea.ns I have of giviong
so accurately the conversation between myself and Bowen as
to the conversations had with Tilton and Oliver Johnson aie
that prior to my meeting with Bowen, as I told him, I had an
interview with Oliver Johnson in the presenlce of Tilton,
where the whole matter wa, discussed, and a memorandu(lmn of
Oliver Johnson's statement, in which hlie gave his recollection
of the interview of December 26thl, when Tlilton and Johnson
497 
THE ABBITRA'OR.
were present, was taken by Tilton in short-hand in my pres ence, and copiedl out at the time ill Jolhnsou's presence, which
memorandum has been in my possession ever since, and from
which I read each statement, one after the other, to Mir, Bow en.  I here produce it, marked " K"
At the interview of December 26th, (Willow Street, No.
90), Mir. Bowen voluntarily pledged his word to Mr. Johnson
thtt lie (H. C. B.) would take no further measures iii regard
to Mr Tilton, without consultation with Mr. Johnsoni.  Mr.
Bowen likewise had said substantially the same thing to Mr.
Jolhnson previously during private conversations between these
two personils.
There was no obligatory confidence imposed on any of the
parties concerning anything said at this interview save a
special pledge, mutually given, that nothing should be said
concerning Mr. Beecher's demonstration  toward  Mrs.  Tilton.
AMr. O. J. says that Mr. Bowen's statements in regard to H.
W. B. were not in timations of H. IV. B.'s adulteries, b)ut plain
and straightforward chargoes of the same. IH. C. B., stated that
he knew four or five cases of Mr. B.'s adulterous intercourse
with women.
O. J. says that IH. C. B. at this interview plainly declared
that II. WA. B. hal,tl       his guilt to IH. C. B.
I. (C. B.-I canluot stand it any longer.  You and I owe a
duty to society in this matter.  That man ought not to stay
another week in his pulpit.  It is not safe for our families to
have him in this city.
The allusion to the widow was made by T. T., and H. C. B.
said he had no doubt that her husband's death was caused I)y
his knowledge of her improper intimacy with H. W. B. "I
have no doubt about it whatever."
To make an end of the statement as to the controversy between Tilton and Bowen, I further state that various negotiations were had between Bowen and myself, which resulted
finally in an arbitration in which HJ. B. Claflin, Charles Stor-rs
and James Fieeland were referees; tlhalt there was very consideribl)e delay arising from nmy own absence South in the early
spring on account of sickless, Mr. B)wen's  albs-,nce diiurili)
the summer, and Tilton's absence duriing the fI.ll and winter
oni his lecturing touIr; so *at the arbitration did not terminate
until the 2d of April, 1872. This arbitration was determined
498 
"TRIPARTITE CO VENANT."
upon by me, and my determination given to Mr. Claflin in the
following note whichl  I sent, marked "K  2 ":
BROOKILYN, April 1st, 1872.
1IY DEAR  AIR. CLAFLIN:-After full consideration of all interests other
than TlIIeo()dore's, I have advised hirn to arlutrate on grounds which lie will
ex)llain to you, and which I hope will  cceoi(r1 wKith your juldgnient and kind
wishes toward all concerned.   Cordially yours,
F1RANCIS D). MOULTON.
Tilton and Bowen and myself appeared before thle arbitrators. and all made statements.  In Tilton's statement was inelutded the letter marked " B," before given, which hle had put
into type, which fact ijfluenced me to consent to tle arbitrationI in order to do away with the necessity for its puil)lication.
After full hearing-nothing having been submitted to the
arbitrators except the business differences of Tilton and 13owen
the arbitrators made an award that AIr. Bowen slould pay
Tilton the sutim of $7,000 for which he (MIr. Bowen) drew his
check upon  the spot and the contracts were given up to
him.
After the above settlement a paper, whiclh has since been
called the "tripartite agreement," was signed by 13owen and
Tiltoln, Beecher signing it sulbsequently.  The ind(lIcing cause
to this arbitration was the fact that Tilton had commenced a
suit against Bowen and prepared an article for the (_;oldent Age,
in which hle emb)odied his letter (marked." l1 ") to A r. Bowen
and a statement of the circumstances.  lie submitted that
article to nme, anid I bedrged lrim  to withhold it from  publicationI.  I also brioughlt i3eecher and Tilton together, and Beecher
added his entreaties to mine.  To prevent its publication and
close the suit, which might work injury to Beechler and others,
I agreed to submit Mr. Tilton's claim to arbitration, to iwhich
I lad been invited before by Mr. Bowen, but wlich I had
rfusetl, as before stated.  In this interview between Beecher;
Tilton and myself I said, " Perhap.s we cani settle the whole
matter if I can see AIr. Claflin, for Claflin knows Bowen well,
ai(I understandls the importance of all these interests." 130(cher said he would send Claflin to mle, and I mi,ht cotnfer with
him  upon the matter.  In consequenlice of tlhis 3Ai.  Clatflin
called on me and we cont'erre(d uil)on the mitter, and subsequeniitly the atrbitration was anreed upon.   At the conclnsion
of the arbitration the parties igned the " tripartite covenant,"
which was drawn up (ag I understand) by Mr. Samuel Wilke
f
499
6 
l ECANTA TIO.. 
son.  It was first signed by Bowen.   In the form in which it
was first d(rawn it bouiid thle parties to say nothiig of Llany
wrong done or offience conmitted by Beecher, and fully exollnerated  him  thlereltom.  A't,r Bowell hlad signtd it, it was
halnd.d to Tilton to sign, and he refus(.d.  Ile was willing to
sin an agrii   Ieenm nt never to rel),at aglil the cli arges of Bowen,
sayring tltLt if for no other rea,oni, if the nliattt r sllhould tllerealter ever come to lighlt, it would alpil)ear tli.t thlere had been
soilietliing betweeni  Beeht(,r and iMrs. Tilton, and it mighrllt be
Lns-d as evidence to tihe injury of hiiiiself and family, as well as
of Beecher, and, therefore, it was iiot for the interest of eith r
Tilton or Boecher to signl it iii the form first proposed.   No
copy of that "tripartite covenant" was confided to me.  Appended to this covenant atid niade, a part of it was a copy of
the proof shleet article for the Gol(lde  Age, so that it might be
known exactly to what scandal it reterred.  IHow that "tripartite covenant" came to be published I know not.  As  a part
of that settlement it was arranged that Tilton should write a
letter to Bowen, to be publisll(,d in thle Indle)et(edeit, with certain comments to be made by Bowen.   The original draft of
these, in full recantation and withdrawal of all charges and
matters of difference between Tilton and Bowen, is herewith
produced and marked " L ":
THEODORE TILTON:
We hlave received the following note from an old friend:                              OFFICE OF TIlE "GOLDEN AGE,"
(Original date blotted).
NEw  YORK, April 3d, 1872.
H-NRY C. BOWEN, Esq:  MY DEAR SIR-In  view of misapprehensions  which I lately found
existing among our mutual friends at the West, touching the severance of
our relations in the IJldepend(nt atnd the Brooklyn U1ion, I thlink it would
be well, both for youi sake and mine, if we should 1)ltl)licly say that, wliile
our political and theological difl'erences still exist, and will probably widen,
yet that all otler disagreements (so fair as we ever had any) have been
blotted out in reciprocal friendliness and good will.
Truly yours,
TiHEODORE TILTON.
It is so long since Mr. Tilton's pen has contributed to the In(lependent
that we give to his brief note his old and familiar place at the head of these
columns.  While we never a,reed with some of his radical opinions (and
quite likely, as hlie intitliates, we never shall, yet we owe to his request as
500 
BOWEN WHITEWASHES TILTO5N.
above printed the hearty response which his honest purposes, his m, nly
character, and his unstained integrity elicit froni all wlo know liiiii well.
The abuse and slanders heaped ulpon lhimi by soeie unfriendlyl journals halve
never been countenanced by thile Indeeledendt.  Rvegretting his o)p)osition
to the present Adnrilistration, we  nevertheless wishl  abundant prosperity
to the Golden Age and it- editor.                                  11. C. B.
The above proposed card was subsequently and voluntarily
changed by AMr. Bowen into a still stronger and more friendly
notice of iMr. Tilton.
After the tripartite covenant was signed it came to the
knlowledge of B13eechler, as he informed me, tlhat Bowen was
still spreading scandals about him, at which he was angered
and proposed to write Bowen a letter stating the points that
had been settled in their reconciliation and agreement and the
reason why A[r. Bowen's mouth should be closed in regard to
suchl slanders.  I find ainolig my papers a pencil iid( ink
memorandum of the statements intended to be eml)odie(d in
that letter, whlich was subisitted to my judgment by Beecher.
It is in his handwriting and is produced, marked "M."  It
re(ads as follows:  I. Tlhat he a,llowed lhimself to listen to unfounded rumors.
II.  That he never brought them either (1) to me (2) nor
in any proper mainner to tlhe church; (3) tlhat lie ollly wlispered them, and even that only when lihe had some business end
ill1 YI0w.
II.  That he did not himself believe that anything, had occurred which unfitted me for the utmost trust shown.
(1)  By continuing for twelve to fifteen years a colnspicuous
attendant at Plymotuth church.
(2)  By contracts with me as editor of the Independent.
(3) By continued I)ublications of my sermons, &c., making
the privilege of dointig so-evenl as late as the interview at
Freelanid's-onIe of these points of settlement.
(4)  By a settlement of all dlifficulties at Freelhnd's (and a
reconciliation which was to lead to work togethler), in which
not a si)gle hiiint of anylpersoial immorality, but every'tlei
wa.s business.
IV.  As a result of such agreement  (1)  1 was to resume my old tiamiliarity at his house.
(2)  Towrite llim a letter that lhe could give hi,s Iamily to
show that I had restored coiftdence.
(3)  To endeavor t5 remove from him the coldness an(i
frowns of the parish, as one who had injured me.
501
0 
BEECHrER'S MEMORANDUM.
(4)  A card to be published, and which was published, giving him the right to put in the Itidependenzt sermons and lectlrIe room talks, &c.
(5) I was invited to go to Woodstock and be his guest, as I
wits at Grant's reception.
V. 0t' the settlement by a cdmmnittee whose record is with
Mr. Claflin I have nothing to say. I did not see Mr. Beeclier
durling the whole process, nor do I remember to have spoken
with him since.
VI.  Now the force of the statement that he did not hii?l.~elf
believe that I had done anythitg imm"oral which should affect
my standing as a  an, a citizen and a ninister, illustrated by
the foregoing facts, is demonstrated by his conducet when lhe
did believe that Theodore Tilton committed immoralities, lhis
dispossession of -nldepi(dlenet his ignominious expulsion from
B. U., his refusal to pay him the salary and forfeit of cointract.
As a part of this transaction Beecher sent me the following
note,  marked "N":
MONDAY.
My  DEAR FRI~:ND-I called last evening, as agreed, but you had stepped
out. On the way to clhurch last evening I inet Claflin. Hlie says B. denies
any such treacherous whisperings, and is in a right state.
I mentioned my proposed letter. He liked the idea. I read him the
draft of it (in lecture rooim).  He drew back, and said better not send it.
I asked him it B. had ever inade him statement of the very bottom facts;
if there were any charges I aid not know.   ie evaded and intimniated that
if he had he hardly would be right in telling nme.  I think hlie would be
right in telling youi-oughlit to. I have not sent any note and have destroyed that prepared.
The real point to avoid is, to an appeal to church and then a council.
It would be a conflagration, and give every possible chance for par}ties,
for hidings and evasions, a-id increase an hundred-fold this scandal, without healing anything.
I shall see you as soon as I return.
Meantime I confide everythling to your wisdomn, as I always have, and
with such success hitherto that I have full trust for future.
L D)on't fail to see C. and have a full and confidential talk.
Yours, ever
From the time of the ripartite covenant nothing occurred
to disturb the relations between Beecher, Tilton and Bowen,
502
t 
TROUBLE IN THE CAMP.'
or either of them, so far as I know, until the pul)lication in
W~oodhltl c& (,'(lfiit's Weekly of an elaborate story concernIing
the sociil relations between Beecher, Tilton and Mrs.''iltin.
At'ter that publication alppealed it agaill came to the knowledge
of Beecher that Bowven was makiig declarations derogatory to
his chlaracter.  Thllis was followed by the publication of the
'tripartite covenant," which Beecher intormed me was done
l)y MAr. Samuel Wilkeson, and also that Beecher was not a
p.rty to its publication nor knew anything about it.  There
atfterward appeared all account of an interview between Bowen, H. B. Claflin atnd MIrs Woodhull, published in the BrooklIn Eagle. in whichl an attempt was made to obtain from
ler aIy) letters which she might have showing that Beecher
was guiilty of criminal conduct, which attempt failed. Whereupon Beecher addressed me the following note, which I here
produce, marked "N 2 ":
I need to see you this evening any time till half past ten. Can you
make appointment?  Will you call at 124, or shall I?  At what hour?  I
send Cltflin's letter.  Keep it.  Answer by telegraph.         H. W. B.
I shall take t,i it Howard's, 74 Hicks, and should you call, let it l)be
there.  Or I will go round to your rooms.  I want to show you a proposed
card.
I also produce  a letter of Claflin to Beecher of June 28th,
1    873,                 which was enclosed with the above, marked "N 3 ":                                      NEW YORK, June 28th, 1872.
MY DEAR MIR. BEECHER-I have yours.  It was distinctly understood
that the call on Woodhull was entirely private and not to be reported.  [
told Bowen, Woodlhull had no letters from you of the least consequence to
lhim or anybody else, and I was entirely satisfied after the interview that I
was entirely right. I went there at Bowen's earnest solicitation, knowing
it could not harm you and mnight satisfy him, as I think it did.  It was in
bad faithi to publish the meeting.  All present nmust have been disgusted at
the utter lack of what Woodhull professed to have, but could not produce.
Truly your friend,                                        II. B. ClIAFI.IN.
P'. S.-Wishl  you would call and see me if you pass the store.   I am
always in at about eleven A. M.IIB.C
Beecher, when we met in pursuance of his note, produced
to me a memorandi,m of a card whiclh he proposed to publish
in the Ecayle, and which hle submitted to my judgment and
gave me leave to alter the sadie as I thought fit.  That paper
is herewith produced, mhrked " N 4 ":
503
always in at abojut eleven A. M.
0 
LETTER O'0 THE EAGLE.
BROOKLYN, June, 1873.
I have seen in the morning papers that application has been made to
MIrs. Victoria WVoodhull for certain letters of mine supposed to contain
infornmation respecting certain infamous stories against me. She has two
business letters, one declining an invitation to a suffrage meeting and the
other declining to give her assistance solicited.
These, and all letters of mine in the hands of any other persons, they
have my cordial consent to publish. I will only add in this connection
that the stories and rumors which have for a time been circulated about
me are grossly untrue, and I stamp them in general and in particular as
utterly false.
I saw the editor of the Brooklyn Eagle at his office, and after consultation with him the card was published as follows:
TO THE EDITOR OF TIlE BROOKLYN EAGLE:  SIR-In a long and active life in Brooklyn it has rarely happened that
the Eagle and myself have been in accord on questions of common concern to our fellow citizens.  I am for this reason corl)pelled to acknowledge the unsolicited confidence and regard of which the columns of the
Eagle of late bear testimony. I have just returned to the city to learn
that application has been made to [Mrs.] Victoria Woodhull for letters of
mine supposed to contain information respecting certain infamous stories
against me. [I have no objection to have the Eagle state, in any way it
deems fit, that Mrs. Woodlhull] or any other person or persons who may
have letters of mine in their possession have my cordial consent to publisli them. In this connection [and at this time] I will only add that the
stories and rumors which have, for some tinie past, been circulated about
me are untrue, and I stamp them in general and in particular as utterly
untrue.                   Respectfully,
(Signed)                               HENRY WARD BEECHER.
In order that the emendations made by myself and Mr. Kinsella may be observed at a glance, I have enclosed in brackets
the words which are not in the original. It will be thus seen
how much of this card was the composition of Mr. Beecher,
and how much he relied upon the judgment of others in its
preparation.
I would have submitted this card to Beecher before publication, but he was absent.  For olbvious reasons I held myself
excepted from this call for publication, as was well understood
by Beetlher.  I know nothing further of the relations of Boweni and Beecher in this connection which is of importance to
this inquiry. I have traced them thus far because that contro
504
6 
A CURIO US COMPLICA TIOWN.
versy at each stage of it continually threatened the peaceful
settlement of the trouble of Tilton and Beecher, an account
of which I now resume.
Another curious complication of the relations of the parties
arose from the publication by Mrs. Woodhull of the story in
her journal. It is a matter of public notoriety that Mrs Isabella Beecher Hooker, the sister of Beecher, had espoused the
cause of Mrs. Woodhull on the question of woman suffrage,
and had been accused still further of adopting her social
tenets.
Beecher's relation to Mrs. Tilton had been communicated to
her. This had been made a subject of communication from
Mrs. Hooker to her brother, and, after the publication by Mrs.
Woodhull, Mrs. Hooker addressed the following note  to her
brother, which contains so full and clear an exposition of tll
the facts and circumstances that I need not add a word of explanation. I produce Mrs. Hooker's letter to Beecher under
d    a     t     e      of November 1st, 1 872, ma rked  "N 5":                                        HARTFORD, Nov. 1st, 1872.
DEAR BROTHIER-In reply to your words, "If you still believe in that
woman," &c., let me say that from her personally I have never heard a
word on this subject; and when, nearly a year ago, I heard that when here
in tihis city she said she had expected you to introduce her at Steinway, I
wrote her a most indignant and rebuking letter, to which she replied in a
manner that astounded me by its calm assertion that she considered you as
true a friend to her as myself.
I enclosed this letter to Mr. Tilton, asking him to show it to you if he
thought best, and to write nme what it all meant. He never replied nor
returned the letter to me as I requested, but I have a copy of it at your
service. In the month of February, after that, on returning from Waslhitigton, I went to Mrs. Stanton's to spend Sunday. At Jersey City I met
Mrs. W., who had come on in the same train with me, it seemed, and who
urged me in a hasty way to bring Mrs. Stanton over on Monday for a
suffrage consultation as to spring convention. Remembering her assertion
of the friendship between you, and of her meeting you occasionally at
Mr. Moulton's house (I think this is the name), I thought I would put this
to test, and replied that if I could be sure of seeing you at the same time
I would come. She promised to secure you if possible, and I ful!y meant
to keep my appointment, but on Sunday I remembered an appointment at
New Haven, which I should miss if I stopped in New York, and so I
passed by, dropping her a letterby the way. Curiously enough sister
Catherine, who was staying at your house at this time, said to me here,
22
505
0 
MRS. HOOKER'S LETTER.
casually, the latter part of that same week, "Belle, HIenry went over to New
York to see you last Monday, but couldn't find you." Of course my inference was that Mrs. W. either had power over you, or you were secretly
friends. I)uring that Sunday Mrs. Stanton told nme precisely what Mr.
Tilton had said to her, when in tile rage of discovery he fled to the house
of Mrs., and before themn both narrated the story of his own infidelitics as confessed to his nife and of hers as confessed to hinm. She added
that not long after she went to Mr. Moulton's and met you conling down
the front steps, and on entering met Tilton and Moulton, who said:-"We
have just had Plymouth Church at our feet and here is his confession,"
showing a manuscript.  She added that Mrs. Tilton had made  similar
statements to Miss Anthony, and I have since received from Miss A. a
corroboration of this, although she refused to give me particulars, being
bound in confidence, she thinks. From that day to this I have carried a
heavy load, you nmay be sure.  I could not share it with my lhusband, because he was already over-burdened and alarmingly aflected brain-wise,
but I resolved that if hlie went abroad, as hlie prol ably nmust, I would not go
with hlim, leaving you alone as it were, to bear wlhatever might conie of
revelation.  I withstood the entreaties of my hlusband to the last, and( sent
Mary in my stead, and at the last moment I confided to her all that I lnew
and felt and feared, that she might be prepared to sustain her father
should trial overtake them.   By reading the accompanying letters from
them you will perceive that from outside evidence alone hlie had come to
tie conclusions which I reached only through the most reliable testimony
that could well be furnished in any case and against every predisposition
of' my own soul.  Fearing that they would hasten ihome to me and thus
lose all the benefit of the journey (for, owing to this and other anxieties of
business, John had grown worse rather than better up to that very time,
though the air of the high Alps was beginning to promote sleep and restoration), I telegraphed by cable, "No trouble here —go to Italy," and by
recent letters I anm rejoiced to hear of them in Milan in comfortal)le health
and spirits. From the day those letters came the matter has not been out
of my thoughts an hour, it seems to me, and an unceasing prayer has ascended that I might be guided with wisdom and truth.  But what is the
truth I am farther from understanding this morning than ever.  The tale
as published is essentially the same as told to me-in fact, it is impossible
but that Mr. Tilton is the authority for it, since I recognize a verisinilitude, and, as I understand it, Mrs. T. was the sole revelator.   The only
reply I made to Mrs. Stanton was that if true, you had a philosophy of the
relation of the sexes so far ahlfl of the times that you dared not announce
it, though you consented to live by it; that this was in my judgment
wrong, and God would bring all secret things to lighit in his own timec and
506
4b 
DR. CHANNING AGREES IN THEOR Y.
fashion, and I could only wait. I added that I had come to see that hliuman laws were an impertinence, but could get no further, though I could
see glimpses of a possible new science of life, that at present was revolting
to my feelings and my judgment; that I should keep myself open to conviction, however, and should converse with men, and especially wonmen,
on the whole subject, and as fast as I knew the truth I should stand by it,
with no attempt at concealment. I think that Dr. Channing probably
agrees with you in theory, but he had the courage to announce his convictions before acting upon them. He refused intercourse with an uncongenial wife for a long time, and then left her and married a woman
whom lie still loves, leaving a darling daughter with her mother, and today he pays photographers to keep him supplied with her pictures as often
as they can be procured. I send you the article hlie wrote when, abandoned
by all their friends, he and his wife went to the West and stayed for years.
Crushed by calumny and abuse, to-day they are esteemed more highly
than ever, and he is in positions of public trust in Providence.
You will perceive my situation, and, by all that I have suffered and am
willing to suffer for your sake, I beg you to confide to me the whole truth.
Then I can help you as no one else in the world can. The moment that I
can know this matter as God knows it He will help you and me to bring
everlasting good out of this seeming evil. If I could say truthfully that I
believe this story to be a fabrication of Mr. and Mrs. Tilton's imposed
upon a credulous woman-mere medium, whose susceptibility to impressions from spirits in the flesh and out of it is to be taken into account
always-the whole thing dies. But if it is essentially true there is but
one honorable way to meet it, in my judgment, and the precise method
occurred to me in bed this morning, and I was about writing you to sug
gest it when your letter came.
I will write you a sisterly letter, expressing my deep conviction that this
whole subject needs the most earnest and chaste discussion; that my own
mind has long been occupied with it, but is still in doubt on many points,
that I have observed for years that your reading and thinking has been
profound on this and kindred subjects, and now the time has come for you
to give the world, through your own paper, the conclusions you have
reached and the reasons therefor.  If you choose, I will then reply to
each letter, giving the woman's view-for there is surely a man's and a
woman's side to this beyond everywhere else-and by this means attention
will be diverted from personalities and concentrated on social philosophy
-the one subject that now ought to occupy all thinking minds.
It seems to me that God has,een preparing me for this work, and you
also, for years and yearse I send you a reply I wrote to Dr. Todd long
ago, and which I could never get published without my name (which for
507
0 
IMRS. HOOKER'S REPLY TO DR. TODD.
the sake of my daughters I wished to withhold) although God!in, of the
Aration; Holbrook, of the Herald of IIealth; Ward, of th, Indepeitdent,
and every mother to whom I have read it all told me it was the best thing
ever written on the subject, and the men said they would publish if they
dared, while Mrs. - urged me to give my name and pulilishl, and said
she would rather have written it than~anything else of its length in the
world, and if it were hers she would print it without hesitation. I send
also a copy of a letter I wrote John Stuart Mill on his sending me an early
copy of his "Subjection of Women," and his reply.  I am sure that nearly
all the thinking men and women are somewhere near you and will rally to
your support if you are bold, frank, and absolutely truthful iii stating your
convictions. Mrs. Burleighi told Dr. Chlianning she was ready to avow her
belief in social freedom when the time came; she was weary now and glad
of a reprieve, but should stand true to her convictions when she must.
My own conviction is that the one radical mistake you have made is in
supposing that you are so much ahead of your time, and in daring to attelmipt to lead when you have anything to conceal. D)o not, 1 pray you,
deceive yourself with the hope that the love of your church, or any other
love, human or divine, can compensate the loss of absolute truthfulness to
your owii mental convictions.  I have not told you the half I have suffebred
since February; but you can imagine, knowing what my husband is to me,
that it was no common love I have for you and for the truth, and for all
mankind, women as well as men, when I decided to nearly break his heart,
already lacerated by the course I had been compelled to pursue, by sending him away to die, perhaps, without me at his side.
I wish you would come here in the evening some time (to the Burton
cottage) or I will meet you anywhere in New York you appoint, and at
any time.                 Ever yours,                          BELLE.
Read the letters from John and Mary in the order I have placed them. I
will tend these now and the other documents I have mentioned another
day, waiting till I know whether you will meet me.
On the 3d of the same month Mrs. Hooker addressed a
letter to her brother, the Rev. Thomas  K. Beecher, which  I
produce, marked "N  6 ":
[Please return this letter to me when you have done with it.]
HARTFORD, SUNDAY, NOV. 3d, 1872.
DEAR BROTHER TOM:-The blow has fallen, and I hope you are better
prepared for it than you might have been but for our interview. I wrote
II. a single line last week, thus, "Can I help you?"  And here is his reply-" If you still believe in *hat woman you cannot help me.  If you
think of her as I do you-can, perhaps, though I do not need much help. I
508 
MRS. HOOKER TO THOMAS'K. B.
tread the falsehoods into the dirt from which they spring, and go on my
way rejoicing. My people are thus far heroic and would give their lives
for me.   Their love and confidence would make me willing to bear far
more than I have. Meantime the Lord has a pavilion in which HIe hides
me until the storm be overpast. I abide in peace, committing myself to
Hinm who gave Himself for me.  I trust you give neither countenance nor
credence to the abominable coinage that has been put afloat. The specks
of truth are mere spangles upmn a garment of falsehood.  The truth itself
is nmade to lie. Thank you for love and truth and silence, but think of the
barbarity of dragging a poor dear child of a woman into this slough.
Yours truly."
Now, Tom, so far as I can see, it is he who has dragged the dear child
into the slough and left her there, and who is now sending another woman
to prison who is innocent of all crime but a fanaticism for the truth as revealed to her, and I, by my silence, am consenting unto her death.
Read the little note she sent me long ago, when, in a burst of enthusiasm
over a public letter of hers which seemed wonderful to me, I told her how
it affected me, and mark its prophetic words:
NEw YORK, August 8tli, 1871.
MY D)EAR, I)DEAR FRIEND:-I was never more happy in all my life than
I am this morning, and made so by you whom I have learned to love so
much. From you, from whom I had expected censure, I receive the first
deepl), pure words of approval and love. I know my course has often been
contrary to your wishes, and it has been my greatest grief to know that it
was so, since you have so nobly been my defender. But all the tinme I
knew it was not I for whom you spoke, but all womanhood, and I was the
more proud of you that your love was general and not personal. I am
often compelled to do things from which my sensitive soul shrinks, and for
which I endure the censure of most of my friends. But I obey a Power
which knows better than they or I can know, and which has never left lme
stranded and without hope.  I should be a faithless servant, indeed, were
I to filter now when required to do what I cannot fully understand, yet in
the issue of which I have full faith.  None of the scenes in which I have
enacted a part were what I would have selfishly chosen for my own happiness. I love my homne, my children, my husband, and could live a sanctified life with tlem, and never desire contact with the wide world. But such
is not to be my mission. I know what is to come, though I cannot yet
divulge it.  My daily prayer is that heaven may vouchsafe me strength to
meet everything which I know must be encountered and overcome.  My
heart is, however, too full to wie you all I wish.  I see the near approach
of the grandest revelation the world has yet known, and for the part you
509
6 
510 "SPANGLES ON A GARMENT OF FALSEHOOD.*'
shall play in it, thousands will rise up and call you blessed. It was not for
nothing tihat you and I met so singularly.  Let us watch and pray, that we
faint not by the wayside before we reach the consummation. We shall
then look back with exceeding great joy to all we have been called upon to
suffer for the sake of a cause more holy than has yet come upon the earth.
Again I bless you for your letter, Affectionately and faithfully yours,
VICTORIA C. WOODHULL.
Oh, my dear brother, I fear the awful struggle to live according to law
has wrought an absolute demoralization as to truthfulness, and so lie can
talk about "spangles on a garment of falsehood," when the garment is
truth and the specks are the falsehood.
His first letter to me was so different from this.  I read it to you, but
will copy it lest you have forgotten its character:
April 25th, 1872.
"MY DEAR BELLE:-I was sorry when I met you at Bridgeport not to
have had longer talk with you about the meeting in May. I do not intend
to make any speeches on any topic during anniversary week. Indeed, I
shall be out of town.  I do not want you to take any ground this year
except upon sitffrage. You know my sympathy with you. Probably you
and I are nearer together than any of our family. I cannot give reason
now.  I am clear; still, you will follow your own judgment.   I thank you
for your letter. Of sonme things I neither talk, nor will I be talked with.
For love and sympathy I am deeply thankful. The only help that can be
grateful to nme or useful is silence and a silencing influence on all others.
A day may come for converse. It is not now. Living or dead, my dear
sister Belle, love me, and do not talk about me or suffer others to in your
presence.  God love and keep you.  God  keep  us all.  Your loving
brother,                                                       H. W. B."
The underscoring is his own, and when I read in that horrible story that
he begged a few hours' notice that he might kill himself, my mind flew
back to this s(entence, which suggested suicide to me the moment I read
it: " Living or dead, my dear sister Belle, love me," and I believed even
that.
Now, Tom, can't you go to brother Edward at once and give him these
letters of mine, and tell him what I told you; and when y(u have counseled
together as brothers should, counsel me also, and come to me if you can.
It looks as if he hoped to buy my silence with my love. At present, of
course, I shall keep silence, but truth is dearer than all things else, aInd if
he will not speak it in some way I cannot always stand as consenting to a
lie.  "God help us all."         *       Yours in love,
BELLE. 
HENRY'S PHILOSOPHY,.
If you can't conme to me, send Edward. I am utterly alone, and my
heart aches for that woman even as for my own flesh and blood.   I do not
understand her, but I know her to be pure and unselfish and absolutely
driven by some power foreign to herself to these strange utterances, which
are always in behalf of freedomn, purity-truth, as she understands  italways to befriend the poor and outcast, and bring low only the proud, the
hypocrites in high places. The word about meeting at Mrs. Phlelps' house
1 have added to the copy.  If you see Henry tell him of this.
The reply to this letter by the Rev. Thomas K. Beecher to
his sister is as follows, and needs but a single remark-the
thought of a good man as to the value of testimony in this
case. I refer to the last sentence of the postscript. This is
produced, marked " N 7: "
ELMIIRA, NOV. 5, 1872.
DEAR BELLE:-To allow the devil himself to be crushed for speaking
the truth is unspeakably cowardly and contemptible.   I respect, as at
present advised, Mrs. Woodhiull, while I abhor her philosophy.  She only
carries out Henry's philosophy, against which I recorded my protest some
years ago, anti parted (lovingly and achingly) from him, saying, " We
cannot work together." He has drifted, and I have hardened like a crystal
till I am sharp cornered and exacting.   I cannot help him, except by
prayer. I cannot help him through Edward. In my judgment Henry is
following his slippery doctrines of expediency, and, in his cry of progress
and the nobleness of human nature, has sacrificed clear, exact ideal
integrity. Hlands off until he is down, and then my pulpit, miy home, my
church and mly purse and heart are at his service. Of the two, Woodlhull
is my hero and Henry my coward, as at pre.secot advised. But I protest
against the whole batch and all its belongings. I was not anti-slavery;
I am not anti-family.  But, as I wrote years ago, whenever I assault
slavery because of its abominations I shall assail the Church, the State, the
family and all other institutions of selfish usage.
I return the papers.   You cannot help Henry.  You must be true to
Woodhull.  I am out of the circle as yet, and am glad of it.  When the
storm-line includes me I shall suffer as a Christian, saying, "Cease ye
from man."
Don't write to me.  Follow the truth, and when you need me cry out.
Yours lovingly,
(Signed)                                                        TOM.
P. S.-I am so overworked and hurried that I see upon review thlit my
letter sounds hard-because of~ts sententiousness.  But believe me, dear
Belle, that I see and suffer with you.  You are in a tight place.   But
e
511 
MR. HOOKER RE IE WS.
having chosen your principles I can only counsel you to be true and take
the consequences. For years, you know, I have been apart from all of
you except in love. I think you all in the wrong as to anthropology and
social science. But I honor and love them who suffer for conviction's
sake.  My turn to suffer will come in due timne.  In this world all Christians shall suffer tribulation.   So eat' sleep, pray, take good aini and
shoot, and when tile ache comes say even hereunto were we called.  But
I repeat-you can't help Hlenry at present.
P. S.-I unseal my letter to enclose print and add:-You have no proof
as yet of any offense on Henry's part.  Your testimony would be allowed
in no court.   Tilton, wife, Moulton & Co. are witnesses.  Even Mrs.
Stanton can only declare hearsay. So if you move remember that you
are standing on uncertain infornmation, and we shall not probably ever get
the facts, and I'im glad of it.  If Mr. and Mrs. Tilton are brought into
court, nothing will be revealed.   Perjury, for good reason, is, with advanced thinkers, no sin.
It will be observed in  the letter of Mrs. Hooker that she
speaks of having refused to go to Europe with  her husband,
anid that she remained at home in order to protect her brother
in this emergency of his life.
A  letter came into my  hands  with  the  others  from  Mr.
H    ooker   to his wife, under date of Florence, Italy, November
3d,  1871, whic           h          tends to show that all this matter  had been
discussed   between Mr. Hooker and his wife long before  the
publication   by M                   rs.   Woodhull.  I extract so much  from  the
letter as refers to this subject. The remainder is a kindly
communication of  an absent husband to a loved wife, about
wholly independent matters which have nothing to do with
t    hi                   s  controversy.  It is produced, marked "N 8":
FL,ORENCE, Sunday, Nov. 3d, 1872.
MY PRECIOUS WIFE:-I hope you were not pained by what I wrote on
Friday about the H. W. B. matter.  I am getting nmuclh more at peace
about the matter, but I cannot look upon it in any other light, and it is a
relief to me to speak my mind right out about it and then let it rest. I
could not have been easy till I had sworn a little. The only mitigation of
the concealment of the thing that I can think of is this-and it seems to
me that some excuse, or at least explanation, may be found lihere-viz. that
a consideration of the happiness of both Mr. T. and his wife required it,
or seemed to, and the very possible further fact that lie preferred to disclose it, but took the advice off few of his leading friends in the church
and was overruled by them, they agreeing to take the responsibility (f the
concealment.  This would take off somewhat from the hypocrisy of the
512 
MRS. HOOKER TO _HENRY WARD.
thing, but leaves the original crime as open to condemnation as ever. But
enough of this.  Only let me request you to keep me  inf)rmed of all tlhat
occurs, and do not rely upon my getting the news from the papers.  I see
by an extract from the Boston Advertiser that Mrs. W. has employed two
Boston lawyers (it gives their names) to bring suit against the Reptil)lican
and lfomnan's Journal, so that it looks as if the exposure is near at land.
I want to say one word more, however. Can you not let the report get
out after the H. matter becomes public, without being exactly resp)onsible
for it, that you have kept up friendship) with Mrs. W. in the hope of iniifluencing her not to publish the story, you lhaving learned its truth-and tlLat
is substantially the fact as I have understood it-and that you gave up)
going to E]urope with ime so as to be at home, and conmfort II. when  the
truth came out, as you expected it to (do in the course of the summer?
This will give an appearance of self-sacrifice to your affiliation with her,
and will explain your not coming abroad with me-a fact which has a very
unwife-like look.  I know that you will otherwise be regarded as hlolding
MIrs. W.'s views, and that we slhall be regarded as living in some discord,
and probably (by many people) as practising her principles. It would be
a great relief to me to ha:ve your relations to Mrs. W. explained in this
way, so creditable to your heart.  There is not half the untrutlh in it that
there has been all along in nmy pretended approval of Mrs. WVoodliull's
course, and yet people think nie aiin honest nian.  I lhave lied enough about
that to ruin the character of an avera-ge ian, and hlave probably datiiiaged
myself by it. * * *
After Beecher had seen these letters of his sister, 5Irs.
Hlooker, hlie came to me, in trouble andi alarm, and lianded nme
all the letters, together with one Lunder the d(fte of November
27tth, which I herewith produce, with the enclosure, cut from
the Hartford Times, to which it alludes.  It is marked "N
9":
HARTIoIRD, Wednesday, 27th, 1872.
DEAR BROTHER:-Read the enclosed, clipped from the Times of this
city last evening. [See enclosure below.J I can endure no longer. 1
m ust        see you and persuade you to write a paper whichl I will read, going
alone to your pulpit and taking sole charge of the services. I shall leave
here        on eight A. M. train Friday morning, aid unless you meet me at
Forty-second  street station, I shall go to Mrs.'s house, opposite
Young Men's Christian Association, No. - Twentv-thlird street, where I
shall h      ope to see you during thelay.  Mrs.    kindly said to me, when
last in N     ew York, "My  laugliter and I are now widows, living quietly in
our          pleasant home, and I want you to come there, without warning, when                22*
f
513 
BEECHER'S APPBEHENSIONXS.
ever you are in New York, unless you have other friends whom you prefer
to visit."
So I shall go as if on a shopping trip, and stay as long as it seems best.
I would prefer going to Mrs. Tilton's to anywhere else, but I hesitate to
ask her to receive me. 
I feel sure, however, that wor(ds from her should go into that paper, and
with her consent I could write as one commissioned from on high.
Do not fail me, I pray you; meet me at noon on Friday as you hope to
meet your own mother in heaven. In her name I beseech you, and I will
take no denial.  Ever yours, in love unspeakable,            BELLE.
[Enclosure mentioned in above letter.]
" Eli Perkins," of the New York Commercial, a prominent republican
paper, has this to say:   "Nast's very boldness -his terrible aggressiveness- is what challenges
admiration and makes IIarper's Weekly a success.
"When I asked him if he didn't think it a great undertaking to attack
Mr. Greeley, he said:   "Yes; but I knew he was an old humbug.  I knew I was right, and I
knew right would win in the end.  I was almost alone, too.  The people
were fooled with Greeley, as they are fooled with Beecher, and he will
tumble further than Greeley yet.'
"We had a talk about Beecher and Tilton, and putting this with other
conversations with personal friends of Mr. Tilton and with newspaper men
in New York, I am satisfied that a terrible downfall surely awaits the one
who has erred and conceals it."
Beecher then informed me of his apprehension that his sister, in her anxiety that he should do his duty in presenting
this truth as she understood it, and in protecting Mrs. Woodhull from the consequences of having published the truth,
from which she was then  suffering, would go into his pulpit
and insist upon declaring that the Woodhull publication was
substantially true; and hlie desired me to do what in me lay to
prevent such a disaster. I suggested to him that he should
see Mrs. Hooker, speak to her kindly, and exhort her not to
take this course, and that Tilton should see her and so far shake
her confidence in the truth of the story as to induce her to
doubt whether she would be safe in making the statement
public.  In this course Beecher agreed, and such arguments
and inducements were brought to bear upon Mrs. Hooker as
were in the power of all three of us, to prevent her from doing
that which would have certainly brought on an exposure of the
whole business. During the consultation between Beecher and
514
0 
/iE WAS THAXNKFUL.
myself as to the means of meeting 3frs. Hooker's intentions,
no suggestion was ever made on the part of Beechcr that his
sister was then or had been at any other time insane.
All these letters I received from Beecher, and they are those
to wlhich hle alludes in his communication of the 4th instant as
the letters of his sister and brother delivered to me, and which
I did not believe that I could honorably give him up, because
I thoughlit-and I submit to the committee I was right in
thinking-that they form a part of this controversy, and were
not, as he therein alleged, simply given to my keeping as part
of his other papers, which he could not keep safely on account
of his own carelessness in preserving documents.
Beecher was exceedingly anxious that Tilton should repudiate
the statement published by Woodhull, and denounce her for its
publication, and he drew up, upon my memorandum book, the
form of a card to be published by Tilton over his signature;
and asked me to submit it to him for that purpose, wlhich I
here produce, marked "N 10:" In an unguarded enthusiasm I hoped well and much of one who has
proved utterly unprincipled.  I shall never again notice her stories, and
now utterly repudiate her statements made concerning me and mine.
Bcecher told me to say to Tilton, substantially:-" Theodore
may for his own purpose, if he choose, say that all his misfbrtune has come upon him on account of his dismissal from the
Uizion and the Independent, and on account of the offence
which I committed against liim; hle may take the position
against me and Bowen that he does; yet the fact is that his
advocacy of Mrs. Woodhull and her theories has done him the
injury which prevents his rising  Now, in order to get support
from me and from Plymouthl Church, and in order to obtain
the sympathy of the whole commnunitv, he must publish this
card; and unless he does it hle cannot rise."  He also said the
same thing to Tilton in my pr-seiice.  To this Tilton answered
in substance to Beecher: —' You know why I sougolt Mrs.
Woodhlull's acquaintance. It was to save my family and yours
fiom the consequences of your acts, the facts about which had
become known to her.  They have now been published, and I
will not denounce that woman to save you from the consequences of what you yourself have done."
To resume:-After I hadearried to Mr. Tilton the paper of
apology which had reerence to Beecher's adultery, and had
received assurances that all between Tilton and Beeclher should
515 
THPREE UNHAPPY CREATTURES.
be kept quiet, I immediately conveyed the information to
Beec        her. He was profulse in his professions of thankfulness
and gratitude to nme for what he said were my exertions in his
behalf. Soon after that I was taken sick, and while on my
sick bed, on the 7thl of February, I received the following letter
f r om Beecher,             marked  "0: "
FEBRUARY 7th, 1871.
MY DEAR MR. MOULTON:-I am glad to send you a book which you
will relish, or which a man on a sick bed ought to relish. I wish that I
had more like it, and that I could send you one every day, not as a repaynient of your great kindness to me-for that can never be repaid, not
even by love, which I give you freely.
Many, many friends has God raised up to me; but to no one of them
has he given the opportunity and the wisdom so to serve me as you have.
My trust in you is implicit. You have also proved yourself Thleodore's
friend and Elizabeth's.  Does God look down from heaven on three unhappy creatures that more need a friend than these?
Is it not an intimation of God's intent of mercy to all, that each one of
these has in you a tried and proved friend? But only in you are we three
united. Would to God, who orders all hlearts, that by your kind mediati)on
Theodore, Elizabeth and I could be made friends again.  Theodore will
have the hardest task in such a case; but has hlie not proved himself capable of the noblest things?
I wonder if Elizabeth knows  how generously he has carried  himself
toward me? Of course, I can never speak with her again, except with his
permission, and I do not know that even then it would be best. My
earnest longing is to see her in the full sympathy of her nature at rest in
him and to see him once more trusting her and loving her with even a
better than the old love.  I am always sad in such thoughts.  Is there any
way out of this night?  May not a day star arise?  Truly yours always,
with trust and love,                           IIENRIY WARD BEECItER.
On the same day there was conveyed to me from Beecher a
request to Tilton that Beecher might write to Mrs. Tilton, because all parties had then come to the conclusion that there
should be no communication between Beecher and Mrs. Tilton
or Beecher and Tilton, except with my knowledge and consent,
and I had exacted a promise from Beecher that he would not
communicate with Mrs. Tilton or allow her to communicate
with him unless I saw Me commtunication, which promise, I
believe, was, on his.part, faithfully kept, but as I soon found,
was not on the part of 3fIrs. Tilton.
516 
WHOLLY IN MOULTON'S HANDS..
Permission was given to Beecher to write to Mrs. Tilton,
and the following is his letter, here produced, marked "P":
BROOKLYN, Feb. 7th, 1871.
MY DEAR MRS. TILTON:-When I saw you last I did not expect ever to
see you again or to be alive many days.  God was kinder to me than were
my own thoughts.  The friend whom God sent to me (Mr. Moulton) has
proved above all friends that ever I had, able and willing to help me in
this terrible emergency of my life. Hlis hand it was that tied up the storm
that was ready to burst upon our head. I am not the less disposed to trust
him from finding that lie has our welfare most deeply and tenderly at heart.
You have no friend ('l'heodore excepted) who has it in his power to serve
you so vitally, and who will do it with so much delicacy and honor. I
beseech of you, if my wishes have yet any influence, let my deliberate
judgment in this matter weigh with you. It does my sore heart good to
see in Mr. Moulton an unfeigned respect and honor for you. It would
kill me if he thought otherwise.  He will be as true a friend to your honor
and happiness as a brother could be to a sister's. In him we have a commnon ground. You and I may meet in him. The past is ended. But is
there no future?-no wiser, higher, holier future?  May not this friend
stand as a priest in the new sanctuary of reconciliation, and mediate and
bless you, Theodore, and my most unhappy self? Do not let my earnestness fail of its end; you believe in mly judgment. I have put myself
wholly and gladly in Moulton's hands, and there I must meet you.  This
is sent with Theodore's consent, but he has not read it.  Will you return
it to me by his hands? I am very earnest in this wish for all our sakes, as
such a letter ought not to be subject to even a chance of miscarriage.
Your unhappy friend,                              H. W. BEECHER.
This was a letter of commendation, so that Mrs. Tilton
might trust me, as between her and her husband, as fully as
Beecher did.   In the meanwhile  Mr.  Beecher's friends were
continually annoying him and writing him about Tilton and
the rumors that were afloat with regard to both, and on the
13th of February, Beecher received the following letter from
his nephew, F. B. Perkins, which he (Beecher) handed me,
with  a draft of a reply, on the 23d of the same February,
which he sent without showing me again and upon that dratt
I made the following note.           herewith produce these docu menlts, marked "Q," "R" and "S" respectively:
*0           Box 44, STATION D, 
*NEW YORK, February 13th, 1871. )
MY DEAR UNCLE:-After some consideration I decide to inform you of
t
bil
0 
FREDERICK PERKINS WRITES.
a matter concerning you. Tilton has been justifying or excusing his recent intrigues with women  by.:lleging tlhat you have been detected in the
like adulteries, the same having been liusled up out of consideration for the
parties. This I know.
You may, of course, do what you like with this letter.  I suppose such
talk dies quickest unanswered.   I have thought it best to let you know
what is being said about you, and by whom, however; for, wvlethler y(ou
act in the matter or not, it has been disp)leasing to ma  to sup)pose  uchl
things done without your knowledge. I have thought other people base,
but Theodore Tilton has in this action dived into the very sub-cellar of the
very backliouse of infamy.  In case you should choose to let him know of
this, I am responsible and don't seek any- concealment.  Very truly yours,
To Rev. HIENRY WARD BEECHER.                           F. B. IPERiINS.
P. S.-I cannot say Tilton said "adulteries." He was referring to his
late intrigues with Mrs.      and others, however hlie may have described
them.   What  I am informed of is the excuse by implicating you in
" similar" affairs.                                             F. B. P.
FEBRUARY 23d, 1871.
MY DEAR FRED:-Whatever Mr. Tilton formerly said against me-and
I know the substance of it-he has withdrawn and frankly confessed that
he had been misled by the statements of one who, when confronted, backed
down from his charges.
In some sense I am in part to blame for his indignation. For I lent a
credulous ear to reports about him, which I have reason to believe were
exaggerated or wholly false. After a full conference and explanation there
remains between us no misunderstanding, but mutual good will and reconciliation have taken the place of exasperation.   Of course, I shall not
chase after rumors that will soon  run thenmselves out of breath if left
alone. If my friends will put their foot silently on any coal or hot embers
and crush thenm out, without talking, the nmiserable lies will be as dead in
New York in a little time as they are in Brooklyn. But I do neat any the
less thank you for your affectionate solicitude and for your loyalty to nmy
good name.  I should have replied earlier; but your letter came when I
wa. out of town.  I had to go out again immnediately.  If the papers do
not nieddle, this slander will fall still-born-de,ad as Julius Caesar. If a
sensation should be got up, of course there are enough bitter enenmies to
fan the matter and create annoyance, though no final danmage. I am your
affectionate uncle,                                             H. W. B.
[Note by Moulton in relation to the abovc.]
H. W. Beecher agreed to ho d this letter over for consideration, but
sent it before seeing me again.   I at first approved  of the  letter, but
518 
MRS. MORSE HAS HER SA Y.
finally concluded to consult withi T. T., who offered a substitute, the substance of which will be found in pencil on copy of I. W. B.'s reply to P.
Following is a copy of the substitute referr(ld to:
An enemy of mine, as I now learn, poisoned the mind of Theodore Tilton by telling hini stories concerning me.'T. T. being angered against me
because I had quoted similar stories against him, which I had heard from
the same party, retailiate(l.  Thleodore and  I, through a niutual friend,
were brought together, and found upon mutual explanations that both were
victimns of the same slanderer.
No further correspondence was received fromn Perkins in this
connection to mv knowledge except the following note to Tilton,       herewith produced and marked "T ":
MAY 20th, 1871.
MR. TILTON:-If there had not been others by I would have said to you
at meeting you this noon what I say now:-Our acquaintance is at an end,
and if we meet again you will please not recognize me.
F. B. PERKINS.
Meanwhile Mrs. Morse, the mother-in-law of Mr. Tilton,
who was from time to time an inmate of his family in Livingston street, had, as I was informed, both by Mr. and Mrs. Tilton, learned from her daughter the criminal relationship heretofore existing between Beecher and herself, and who could not
understand why that matter had been settled, and who had
not been told how it had been adjusted, and who had had a
most bitter quarrel with Tilton, accusing him of not having
so carried his affairs as to keep what fortune he had, and who
had called upon Beeclh)er about the- relations between Tilton
and Mrs. Tilton, and who had, as Beecher had informed me,
filled the minds of Mrs. Beecher and himself with stories of
Tilton's infidelity and improper conduct to his wife, wrote the
following letter to Beecher, under date of January 27th, 1871,
which he delivered to me the next day, as appears by my nlemorandum thlereon, together with the draft of an answer which
he said he proposed to send to Mrs. Morse.   Her letter is herewith produced, marked "U" and Mr. Beecher's draft of reply
marked "V," and are as follows:
[Received January 27th, 1871; received from H. W. B. January 28tlh,
1871.]                         l
MR. BEECIIER;-As you have not seen fit to pay any attention to the
request I left at your house now over two weeks since, I will take this
519 
SHE WRITES TO BEECHER.
method to inform you of the state of things in Livingston street.   The
remark you made to me at your own door was an enigma at the time, and
every day adds to the mystery.  "Mrs. Beecher has adopted the child."
"What child," I asked.  You replied, "Elizabeth."
Now, I as! what earthly sense was there in that remark?  Neither Mrs.
B., yourself nor I can have done anytiling to ameliorate her condition.
Shle has been for the last three weeks with one very indifferent girl. T.
has sent ****** with the others away, leaving my sick and distracted child
to care for all four children night and day, without fire in the furnace or
anythiing like comfort or nourishment (sic) in the house.  She has not
seen any one.  He says, "' She is mourning for her sin."  If this be so,
one twenty-four hours under his shot, I think, is enough to atone for a
lifelong sin, however henious (sic). I know that any change in his affairs
would bring more trouble upon her and more suffering. I did not think
for a moment when I asked Mrs. B. as to your call there, supposing she
knew it, of course, as she said you would not go there without her.
I was innocent of mnaking any misunderstanding if there was any. You
say, "Keep quiet."  I have all through her married life done so, and we
now see our eror (sic).  It has brought him to destruction, made me
utterly miserable, turned me from a comfortable home and brought his
own family to beggary. I don't believe if his honest debts were paid he
would have enough to buy their breacifast (sic).  This she could endure
and thrive under, but the publicity he has given to this recent and most
c?-ishtng of all trouble is what's taken the life out of her.   I know ot
twelve persons whom he has told, and they in turn have told others. I had
thought we had as much as we could live under from his neglect, and ungovernable temper.  But this is the death blow to us both, and I doubt not
Florence has hers. Do you know when I hear of you cracking your jokes
from Sunday to Sunday, and think of the misery you have brought upon
us, I think with the Psalmist, "There is no God."  Admitting all he says
to be the invention of his half-drunken brain, still the effect upon us is the
same, for all he's told believe it. Now he's nothing to do, hlie makes a
target of her night and day. I am driven to this extremity-to pray for
her release from all suffering by God's taking her to Himself, for if there's
a heaven I know she'll go there.
The last time she was in this house she said:-" Here I feel I have no
home, but on the other side I know I shall be more than welcome."  Oh,
my precious child! how my heart bleeds over you in thinking of your
sufferings.  Can you do anything in the matter?
Must she live in this sufferin condition of mind and body with no aleviation? (sic.) 
You or any one else who advises her to live with him when he is
520 
HIS REPL Y.
doing all he can to kill her by slow torture is anything but a friend.
I don't know if you can understand a sentence I've written, but I'm relieved somewhat by writing. The clhildren are kept from me, and I have
not seen my dieing (sic) chi!d but once since her return from this house.
I thought the least you could do was to put your name to a paper to help
reinstate my brother (in the Custom House). Elizabeth wats as disappointed as myself.  Ile is still without employment, with a sick wife
and five children to feed, behind with rent, and everything else behindhand.
If your wife has adopted Lib (sic) or you sympathize with her, I pray
you do something for her relief before it is too late. He swears so soon
as her breath leaves her body he will make this whole thing public, and
this prospect, I think, is one thing which keeps her living. I know of no
other. She's without nourishment (sic) for one in her state, and in want
-actual want. They would both deny it, no doubt, btlt it's true.
Mrs. Judge 3IORSE:  MY DEAR MADAM:-I should be very sorry to have you think I had no
interest in your troubles. My course toward you hitherto should satisfy
you that I have sympathized with your distress. But Mrs. Beecher and I,
after full consideration, are of one mind-that, under present  circumstances, the greatest kindness to you and to all will be, in so far as we are
concerned, to leave to time the rectification of all the wrongs, whether
they prove real or imaginary.
It will be observed that in the letter of Mrs. Morse she says
Tilton had sent * * * * * * with the others away. Ipurposely omit the name of this young girl. There was a reason
whly it was desirable that she should be away from Brooklyn.
That reason. as given me by Mr. and Mrs. Tilton, was this:
She had overheard conversations by them concerning Mrs. Tilton's criminal intimacy with Beecher, and she had reported
these conversations to several friends of the family. Being
young, and not knowing the consequences of her prattling, it
seemed proper, for the safety of the two families, that she
should be sent to a distance to schlool, which was accordingly
done.  She was put at a boarding school at the West, and the
expenses of her stay there were privately paid throughi me by
Beechler, to whom I had stated the difficulty of having thie girl
remain in Brooklyn; and he agreed with us that it was best
that she should be removed and offered to be at the cost of
her schooling. The bills wee sent to me from time to time as
they became due, a part of them through Mrs. Tilton. Pre
521
a 
THAT YO UNG LADY.
vious to her going away she wrote the following letters to Mrs.
Tilton        -ma    rked  "W" and "X"-and  they were sent to me by
M    r     s. T. as part of these transactions:
BROOKLYN, Jan. 10tlh, 1871.
MY DEAR MRS. TILTTON.:-I want to, tell you something. Your mother,
Mrs. Morse, has repeatedly attempted to hire me, by offering me dresses
and presents, to go to certain persons and tell them stories injurious to the
character of your husband. I have been persuaded that the kind intentions shown me by Mr. Tilton for years were dishonorable demonstrations.
I never, at the time, thought that Mr. Tilton's caresses were for such a
purpose. I do not want to be made use of by Mrs. Morse or any one else
to bring trouble on my two best friends, you and your husband. Bye by.
.***$**
These notes are in Mrs. Tilton's handwriting and on the
same paper used by her in correspondence with me.
JANUARY 12th.
MY DEAR MRS. TILTON:-The story that Mr. Tilton once lifted me from
mny bed and carr;ed me screaming to his own, and attempted to violate my
person is a wicked lie.  Yours truly,                            ******
While this young lady was at school she did inform a friend
of Mris. Tilton, MArs. P., of the stories of the family relations.
These stories were written to Brooklyn, and came to the
knowledge of my friends, creating an impression upon their
minds unfavorable to Mr. Tilton, and might possibly lead to
the reopening of the scandal.  I therefore took pains to trace
them back, and found that they came from Mrs. P., to whom
the schoolgirl had told thlem. I therefore called upon Tilton
and asked if these stories could not be stopp(,d. Soon afterwal'd he produced to me a letter, dated the 8th of November,
1872, written by Mrs. Tilton, with a note to me on the back
thereof, to disabuse Mrs. P.'s mind as to the girl's disclosures.
The letter is here produced, marked "Y: "
BROOKLYN, NOV. 8thl, 1872.
MYv  DEAR MRS. P.:-I come to you in this fearful extremity, burdened
by my misfortunes, to claim your promised synlpthly and love.   *  *  *
I have mistakenly felt obliged to deceive ****** these two years, that my
husband had made false accusations against me which he ttcver has to her
or any one.
In order that he may not appear on his defence, thus adding the terrible
exposure of a lawsuit, *ill you implore silence on her part against any
522 
* * * * * * BILL. 5
indignation which she may feel against him; for the one only ray of light
and hope in this midnight gloom is his entire sympathy and co-operation
in my behalf.
A word from you to Mr. D*** will change any unfriendly spirit which
dear mother may have given him against my husband.
You know I have no mother's heart, tllh will look charitably upon all,
save you.  Affectionately, your child,                     ELIZABETH.
Of course you will destroy this letter.
TUESDAY, Jan. 18th, 1872.
DEAR FRANcIs:-Be kind enough to send me $50 for ******. I want
to enclose it in to-mnorrow's mail.  Yours gratefully,  ELIZABETH.
Also, I produced-out of the order of time-a letter of Mrs.
Tilton, marked "Y 2," sent to me a year atterwards for money
for the purpose of paying this young person's school expenses,
and also a statement of accounts and letters of transmission,
and note acknowledging receipt for quarter ending June, 1871,
from the principal of that school, marked "Z 1" and "Z 2."
All these sums were paid by Beecher, and I forwarded the money
to settle them through Mrs. Tilton, or sent the money directly
to the principal of the school at her request:
STATEMENT OF ACCOUNT.
FEMALE SEMINARY.
Miss ****** ******
To ******                      D/r.
For boarding............................................... $76 50
For tuition, primary class..................................... 10 80
F'or washing.................................................   7 23
For fire (two months)........................................ 4 00
For music (double lessons), $36; use piano, $4 50.............. 40 50
For advanced items  Books and stationery................................. $4 14
Music.............................................. 5 10
Physician and medicine............................. 6 00
Seat in church....................................... 1 00-16 24
Amount...................................................$155 27
June, 1871.
---—, June 8th, 1871.
MRs. TILTON:-I send you with this a statement of Miss ******'s bill
for the past half school year.     *
****** is doing very well +n her studies, and is quite a favorite with us.
523 
TILTON'S FEELINGS.
Sometimes she is not very well, but I think, on the whole, her health is
improving.
Could you not come and make us a visit and bring Mr. Tilton with you?
A little rest would do you both good. Very respectfully yours,
****** is making very good progress in music and in some of her coinmon branches, as arithmetic, geography and spelling.
SEMINARY, Dec. 18th, 1873.
F. D. MOULTON, Esq.:  DEAR SIR:-Yours containing check for $200 in full for Miss ******'s
school bill is received. This pays all her indebtedness to this date. Very
truly yours,
Beecher was very anxious to ascertain, through me, the
exact condition of Tilton's feelings towards him, and how far
the reconciliation was real, and to get a statement in writing
that would seem to free him (Beecher) from imputation thereafter. I more than once applied to Tilton to get a statement
of his feelings towards Beecler, and received from him, on tihe
7th of February, 1871, the following letter, which I produce,
marked "A A:"
BROOELYN, Feb. 7th, 1871.
MY VERY DEAR FRIEND:-In several conversations with me you have
asked about my feelings toward Mr. Beecher, and yesterday you said the
time had come when you would like to receive from me an expression of
them in writing. I say, therefore, very cheerfully, that, notwithstanding
the great suffering which he has caused to Elizabeth and myself, I bear
him no malice, shall do him no wrong, shall discountenance every project
(by whomsoever proposed) for any exposure of his secret to the public,
and (if I know myself at all) shall endeavor to act toward Mr. Beecher as
I would have him in similar circumstances act toward me.
I ought to add that your own good offices in this case have led me to a
higher moral feeling than I might otherwise have reached. Ever yours
affectionately,                                      THEODORE TILTON.
To FRANK MOULTON.
From that time everything was quiet. Nothing occurred to
mar the harmony existing between Tilton and Beecher, or the
kindly relations between Tilton and Mrs. Tilton, during the
summer of 1871, except idle gossip which floated about the
city of Brooklyn, and sometimes was bin ted at in the newspapers, but which receivecfno support in any facts known to the
gossiper or the writer, or through any communication of Mr.
524:
t
0 
GONE TO GRASS.
or Mrs. Tilton or Mr. Beecher. And I received no letters from
Beecher alluding to this sul)ject upon any topic until his returni, on the 30th September, from his vacation, showing tlhat
in fact the settlement was enabling him to regain his healtl
and spirits.  I produce this note, marked "B B: "
SATURDAY, September 30th, 1871.
MY DEAR FRIEND:-I feel bad not to meet you. My heart warmns to
you, and you might have known that I should be here, if you loved me as
much as I do you. Well, it's an inconstant world! Soberly, I should be
glad to have you see how hearty I am, ready for work and hoping for a
bright year.
I have literally done nothing for three months, but have " gone to
grass." Things seem almost strange to come back among men and see
business going on in earnest.
I will be here on Monday at ten A. M. I am, my dear Frank, truly and
gratefully yours,                               HENRY WARD BEECHER.
Taking advantage of this lull in the controversy it may be
as convenient here as anywhere to state the relations of Mrs.
Tilton to the matter and her acts toward the several parties.
I shall be pardoned if I do it with care, because my statement,
unhappily for us both, must be diametrically opposite to one
published as hers.  I had been on terms very familiar, visiting
at Mr. T'iltt)n's house.  I had seen anl known Mrs. Tilton well
and kindly on my part, and I believed wholly so on hers, and,
as I have before stated, I had never known or suspected or seen
any exhibition of inharmony between her and her husband
during those many familiar visits, and of course I had no suspicion of infidelity upon the part of either toward the other.
The first intimation of it which came to me was in the exhlibition of her original confession, of which I have before spoken.
The first time I saw that confession was on the 30th of December, 1870.  The first communication I had from Mrs. Tilton
after I had read her confession on the Friday evening, as before
stated, was on the next morning, the 31st of December, 1870,
the date being fixed by the fact cited in her letter showing
that she gave her retraction to Beecher on the evening previous.  The letter from her is as follows, marked "C (C:"
SATURDAY MORNING.
MY DEAR FRIEND FRANK:-I want you to do me the greatest possible
favor.  My letter which you have and the one I gave Mr. Beecher at his
dictation last evening ought both to be destroyed.
525
6 
MRS. TILTO.'S LETTERS.
Please bring both to me and I will burn them. Show this note to Theodore and Mr. Beecher. They will see the propriety of this request.
Yours truly,                                              E. R. TILTON.
I could not, of course, accede to this request of Mrs. Tilton,
because I had pledged myself to Beecher that her retraction
on the one side and her confession to Tilton on the otherwhich are the papers she refers to as "my letter which you
have and the one I gave Mr. Beecher "-should not be given
up, but should be held for the protection of either as against
the other.
I learned in my interview with Beecher on the 1st day of
January, 1871, that he had been told by his wife and others
tthat Mrs. Tilton desired a separation from her husband on account of his supposed infidelities to her, and that Mrs. Tilton
had applied to Mrs. Beecher for advice upon that subject.
This being the first I had heard of asserted infidelity of Tilton
to his marriage vows, either the next day or second day after I
asked Mrs. Tilton if it were so and if she had ever desired a
separation from her husband on that or ally other accountwishing to assure myself of the facts upon which I was to act
as mediator and arbitrator between the parties. She stated to
me that she had not desired a separation from her husband,
but that application had been made to Mr. and Mrs. Beecher
through her mother, upon her own responsibility, to bring it
about, and on the 4th day of January she sent me the following letter, which, although dated January 4th, 1870, was actually written January 4th, 1871, and dated 1870, as is a common
enough mistake by most persons at the beginning of a new
year. But it bears internal evidence of the time of its date,
and also I know that I received it at that time, it being impossible that it should have been a year previous. I produced it,
marked "DD: "
No. 174 LIVINGSTON STREFT,,
BROOKLYN, Jan. 17th, 1870 (?).  I
Mr. FRANcIs D. MOULTON: MY DEAR FRIEND:-In regard to your question whether I have ever
sought a separation from my husband, I indignantly deny that such was
ever the fact, as I have denied it a hundred times before. The story that
I wanted a separation was a deliberate falsehood, coined by my poor
mother, who said she would bear the responsibility of this and other
statements she might make, and communicated to my husband's enemy,
Mrs. H. W. Beecher, and by her communicated to Mr. Bowen. I feel
526 
MRS. TIL TOi COMMUNTICA Tf VE.
outraged by the whole proceeding, and am now suffering in consequence
more than I am able to bear. I am yours, very truly,
ELIZABETH R. TILTON.
As bearing upon this topic of her husband's infidelity and
her desire for separation, I pcoductanother letter, dated January 13th, 1871, written by Mrs. Tilton, and addressed to the
person whose name I have hitherto and still suppress, as the
one with whom Bowen had alleged an improper connection
with Tilton, and because of which improper connection
Beecher had been informed AMrs. Tilton was unhappy and
desired the separation. It is marked "EE ":
174 LIVINGSTON STREET, 
BROOKLYN, Jan. 13thl, 1871.
MY DEAR FRIEND AND SISTER:-I was made very glad by your letter,
for your love to me is most grateful, and for which I actually hunger.
You, like me, have loved and been loved, and can say with Mrs. Brown
ing:
"Well enough I think we've fared,
My heart and I."
But I find in you an element to which I respond; when or how I am not
philosopher enough of the human mind to understand. I cannot reasononly feel.
I wrote to you a reply on the morning of my sickness, and tinged with
fears of approaching disaster, so that when mail day arrived I was safely
over my sufferings, with a fair prospect of returning health. I destroyed
it lest its morbid tone might shadow your spirit. I am now around iiy
house again, doing very poorly what I want to do well.  All these ambitions and failures you know, darling, and when, in your last letter to
Theodore-those good, true letters-you tell indirectly of your life with
your parents, I caught and felt the self-sacrifice, admired and sincerely
appreciated your rare qualities of heart and mind. I am a more demonstrative and enthusiastic lover of God manifested in his children than you
will believe, and my memories of you fill me with admiration and delight.
I have caught up your card picture which we have, in such moments and
kissed it again and again, praying, with tears, for God's blessing to follow
you and to perfect in us three the beautiful promise of our nature. But,
my sweet and dear, I realize in these months of our acquaintance
how almost impossible it is to sing  out these blossoms of our heart's
growth-God's gifts to us.-to human eyes.  Our pearls and flowers are
caught up literally by vulgar and base minds that surround us on every
527
0 
HER SPIRIT WILLING.
side, and so destroyed or abused that we know them no longer as our own,
and thus God is made our only hope.
MIy dear, dear sister, do not let us disappoint each other. I expect
much from you-you do of me. Not in the sense of draining or weariness
tD body or spirit-but trust and faith in human hearts.  Does it not exist
between us? I believe it! My husbarld has suffered much with me in a
cruel conspiracy made by my poor suffering mother, with an energy worthy of a better cause-to divorce us by saying that Iwas seeking it because
of Theodore's infidelity, making her feelings mine.
These slanders have been sown broadcast. I am quoted everywhere as
the author of them. Coming in this form and way to Mr. Bowen they
caused his immiediate dismission from both the Independent and Union.
Suffering thus, both of us, so unjustly-(I knew nothing of these plans)anxiety night and day brought on my miscarriage; a disappointment I
have never before known-a love babe it promised, you know. I have had
sorrow almost beyond human capacity dear.   It is my mother!  That
will explain volunmes to your fllal heart.  Theodore has many secret
enemies, I find, besides my mother, but with a faithfulness renewed and
strengthened by experience we will, by silence, time and patience, be victorious over them all.  My faith and hope are very bright, now that I am
off the sick-bed, and dear Frank Moulton is a friend indeed.  (He is
managing the case with Mr. Bowen.) We have weathered the storm, and,
I believe, without harm to our Best.  "Let not your heart be troubled,"
dear sweet-I love you. Be assured of it. I wish I could come to you.
I would help you in the care of your loved ones, for that I can do.  "My
heart bounds toward all."   Then your spirit would be free to write and
think.
But hereunto I am not called. My spirit is willing. My dear children
are all well.  Flov, on her return at the holiday vacation, found me sick,
and we concluded to keep her with us, and she has entered the Packer.
Our household has, indeed, been sadly tossed about, and the children
suffer withl the parents; but the end has come, and I write that you may
have joy and not grief, for that is past!  I am glad you love Alice.  I have
kissed her for you many times. I will teach all my darlings to love you
and welcome your home-coming. Ralph is a fine, beautiful boy, and to be
our only baby-very precious, therefore. Carroll is visiting Theodore's
parents at Keyport. I hope your mother is now better and that you have
reached thle sunshine. Our spirits cannot thrive in nature's gloom. Give
much love to your parents. I am yours, faithfully and fondly,
SISTER ELIZABETH.
This letter requires a word of explanation. It will be ob
528
0
-b 
EXPLAINING THE LET TER.
served that in the course of tile correspondence  between
Bowenl and Beecher there had been claimed infidelities on the
part of Tilton with a certain lady whose name is not disclosed,
although well known to all the parties, and much of thel accusations against Tilton connected him with that lady, and it
was averred that they came from his wife. The above letter
was written to that lady long after the accusations had been
made against Tilton, and after they had been communicated to
his wife, and I bring it in here as bearing on the question
whether Mrs. Tilton desired a separation from her husband, as
had been alleged, on account of his infidelities with this
lady.
I have already stated that I had, as a necessary precaution to
thie peace of the family and the parties interested, interdicted
all the parties from having communication with each otherexcept the husband and wife-unless that communication was
known to me, and the letters sent through me or shown to me.
Mr. Tilton and Mr. Beecher, as I have before stated, both
faithfully complied with their promise in that regard, so far as
I know, I was away sick in the spring of 1871, as before stated,
and went to Florida. Soon after my return Beecher placed in
my hands an unsigned letter from Mrs. Tilton, in her handwriting, undated, but marked in his handwriting, " Received
March 8th, 1871."  I here produce it, marked "F'F."
WEDNESDAY.
MY DEAR FRIEND:-Does your heart bound towards all as it used? So
does mine! I am myself again.  I did not dare to tell you till I was sure;
but the bird has sung in my heart these four weeks, and he has covenanted
with me never again to leave.  " Spring has come."*  Because I thought
it would gladden you to know this, and not to trouble or embarrass you in
any way I now write.  Of course I should like to share with you my joy;
but can wait for the Beyond!
When dear Frank says I may once again go to old Plymouth, I will
thank the dear Father.
Such a communication from Mrs. Tilton to her pastor, under
the circumstances and her promise, seemed to me to be a
breach of good faith. But desirous to have the peace kept,
and hoping if unanswered it might not be repeated, I did not
show it to Tilton or inform him of its existence.
On Friday, April 21st, ~871, Mr. Beecher received another
letter, of that date, unsigned, from Mrs. Tilton, which he gave
to me.  It is here produced, marked "GG," as follows:              23
529
6 
NEST-IUDING.
FRIDAY, April 21st, 1871.
MR. BEECHER:-As Mr. Moulton has returned will you use your influence to have the papers in his possession destroyed? My heart bleeds
night and day at the injustice of their existence.
As I could not comply with this request, for reasons before
stated, I did not show this letter to Tilton, nor did I call Mrs.
Tilton's attention to it.
On the 3d of Mlay, AIr. Beecher handed me still another letter, unsigned, but in Mrs. Tilton's hanlidwriting, of that date,
which is here produced. marked " HH ":
BROOKLIYN, May 3d, 1871.
MR. BEECHFR:-My future either for life or deatll would be lhappier
could I but feel that you forgive while you forget me.  In all the sad
complications of the past year my endeavor was to entirely keep from yoll
all suflering; to bear myself alone, leaving you forever ignorant of it.
My weapons were love, a large untiring generosity and?est hiding!   That
I failed utterly we both know. But now I ask forgiveness.
The contents of this letter were so remarkable that I queried
within my own mind whether I ought not to show it to Tilton;
but as I was assured by Beecher, and verily believed, and now
believe, that they were unanswered by him, I thought it best
to retain it in my own possession, as I have done until now.
But, from the hour of its reception, what remained of faith in
Mrs. Tilton's character for truth or propriety of conduct was
wholly lost, and from that time forthi I had no thought or care
for her reputation only so far as it affected that of her children.
After this I do not know that anything occurred between
myself and Sirs. Tilton of pertinence to this inquiry, or more
than the ordinary courtesies or civilities when I called at her
house, and I received no other communication from her until
shortly before the question of the arbitration of the business
between Bowen and Tilton was determined upon. I had
learned that Mrs. Tilton had been making declarations wlichI
were sullying the reputation of her husband, and giving it to
be understood that her home was not a happy one, because of
the want of religious sympathy between herself and her husband, and because he did not accompany her to church as regularly and as often as she thought he ought to do, and she
thought it would be well fo& the children to do, and sometimes
speaking of her unhappiness, without defining specially the
cause, thus leaving for the busybodies and intermeddlers to
530
0 
LETTER TO MOULTON.
infer causes of unhappiness which she did not state. I thought
it my duty to the parties to caution her in that regard, and I
said to her that I thought she ought not, in the presence of
others, to upbraid her husband witlh their differences in religious feeling or opinions, and that it was not well for her to
make any statement which should show her home unhappy, or
that she was unhappy ill it, because it might lead to such
inquiries as might break it up, as well as the settlement, which
she was so desirous to maintain for the sake of both familiesMrs. Beecher's and her own.
This conversation drew from her the following letter, marked
"II":
SUNDAY MORNING, Feb. 11th, 1872.
M[Y DEAR FRIEND FRANCIS:-All the week I have sought opportunity to
write you, but as I cannot work in the cars as Theodore does, and the
time at our stopping places must be necessarily given to rest, eating and
silght-seeing, saying nothing of lecture-going, I have failed to come to you
before.
It was given to you to reveal to me last Sabbath evening two things (for
which God bless you abundantly with his peace). First, the truth that
until then I had never seen nor felt, namely, whenever I remembered myself in conversing with others to the shadowing of Theodore I became his
enemy!  And the second truth was that Ihindered the reconstruction more
than any one else.
Whenever I become convinced I know I am immovable. Henceforth
silence has locked my lips and the key is cast into the depths.  Theo.
need fear me no longer, for I would be the enemy of no one.
I have not been equal to the great work of the past year. All I have
done is to cause the utter misery of those I love best-my mother, husband, Mr. B. and my dear children.
But how greatly I prize your counsel and criticisms you will never
know. You do not at all terrify me, only convince, and I bless you.
Pardon this hasty line, which I'm sure you'll do, since you forgive so
much else.  Good night.  Affectionately,                     ELIZABETII.
After the signing of the tripartite covenant, April 2d, 1872,
Tilton desired that I should return him the paper containing
his wife's confession, in order, as he said, to relieve her anxiety
as to its possibly falling into wrong hands, and she was very
desirous that this paper Would be destroyed. As I held it
solely for her protection, and under pledge to him, I gave it to
him, and he told me afterwards that he gave it into her hands
531
0 
MUTUAL CO_FESSlONS.
and that she destroyed it. She also confirmed this statement.
Some time after that-it is impossible for me to fix the date
precisely-I learned from Beecher that Mrs. Tilton had told
him that when shte made her confession to her husband of her
infidelity with him (Beecher) her husband had made a like
confession to her of his owan infidelities with several other women.  This being an entirely new statement of fact to me, and
eaver having heard Mirs. Tilton, in all my conversations with
her, although she had admitted freely her own sexual intercourse with Beecher, make any claims that her husband had
confessed his infidelity, or that he had been unfaithful to her,
I was considerably surprised at this intimation made at so late
a period, and I brought it to the attention of Tilton, in the
form of a very strong criticism of his course towards me, that
he had kept back so important a fact, which might have made
a great difference as to the course that ought to be taken.
Tilton promptly, and with much feeling, denied that he had
ever made any such confession, or that his wife ever claimed
that he had, and desired me to see Mrs. Tilton, and satisfy
myself upon that point; and he went immediately with me to
his house, that I might see Mrs. Tilton before he should have
the opportunity to see her, after he had learned the alleged
fact.  We went to the house together and found her in the
back parlor.  On our way to the house Tilton said to me:"Frank, what is the use of my trying to keep the family
together when this sort of thing is being all the time said
against me? You are all thle time telling me that I must
keep the peace, and fo)rget and forgive, while these stories are
being circulated to my prejudice."  On arriving at the house I
asked Mrs. Tilton to step into the front parler, where we two
were alone.  I then put the question to her:-" Elizabeth, did
you tell Mr. Beecher that when you made your confession to
your husband of your infidelity with Beecher, your husband at
the same time made a confession to you of his own infidelity
with other women?"  I said, "I want to know if this is true
for my own satisfaction." She answered, "Yes." I then
stepped with her into the back parlor, where her husband was
waiting, and I said to him, "Your wife savs that she did tell
Beecher that you confessed your infidelity with other women,
at the time she made hermontession to you."  Elizabeth immediately said, "Wlhy, no, I didn't tell you so.  I could not
have understood your question, because it isn't true that Theo
532 
MRS. T. WRETCHED. 
dore ever made any sutcl confession, and I didn't state it to
Mr. Beecher, because it is not true."
I was very much shocked and surprised at the denial, but of
course could say nothing more, and dlid say nothing niore upon
that subj,ct, and left and went home.  The next morning I
received the foilowing letter fromfM rs. Tilton without date, so,
that I am unable to give the exact date of this transaction;
but I know it was after the tripartrite covenant. Thie letter is
here produced and marked "JJ.":
DEAR FRANC.IS:-I did not tell you two falsehoods at your last visit
At first I entirely misunderstood your question, thinking you had reference
to the interview at your house the (lay before. But when I intelligently
replied to you, I replied falsely. I will now put myself on record truthfuilly.
I told Mr. B. that at the time of my  confession T. had made  similar
confessions to me himself, but?io developments as to persons. When you
then asked, for your own satisfaction, " Was it so?" I told nmy second lie.
After you had left I said to T., "You know I was obl)liged to lie to Frank,
and 1 now say, rather than niake othliers suffer as I now do, I must lie; for
it is a physical impossibility for nme to tell the truth."
Yet I do not think, Francis,.had not T.'s angry, troubled face been before nme, I would have told you the truth.
I am a perfect coward in his presence, not from any fault of his, perhaps,
but from long years of timidity.
I iniplore you, as this is a side issue, to be careful not to lead me into
further temptation.
You may show this to T. or Mr. B. or any one.   An effort made  for
truth.  Wretchedly,                                             ELIZABETH.
This letter was wholly unsatisfactory to me, because nothling
had occurred the day previous in which she could possibly
have referred.  After the publication, on the 2d day of November, 1872, in Woo(lhutll and Cla.fin's TVeeckll, of the story of
Tilton and Beecher's conduct in relation to Mrs. Tilton, ai(nd as
my name was mentioned in the article as one possessing p(culiar knowledge upon the whole subject, I was continually asked
by my acquaintances, and even by strangers, upon their ascertainitig who I was, whether that publication was true; and I
found great difficulty in making an answer.  A refusal on my
part to answer would have been taken to be a confession of the
truth of the charges. Tberefore, when people inquired who
had no right to my confidellnce, I answered them in such
533 -
i
0 
ALLEGES HER I.NOCLYCE.
phrase as, without making a direct statement, would lead them
to infer that the charges could not be sustained.
In some cases I doubt not that the inquirers supposed that I,
in fact, denied their truth; but upon that point I was very
studious not directly to commit myself.  Finding that myvery
silence was working illjury to the cause of the suppression of
the scandal, I told Tilton that I wished to be authorized by
his wife to deny it.
I thought it certainly could not possibly be true to the
extent, and in the circumstances with the breadth, in which
it was stated in that newspaper. Soon after I received the
following paper, without date, from MIrs. Tilton, which is produced and marked "KK ":
Mr. MOULTON:  My DEAR FRIEND:-For my husband's sake and my children's, I hereby
testify, with all my woman's soul, that I am innocent of the crime of impure conduct alleged against me. I have been to my husband a true wife;
in his love I wish to live and die. My early affection for him still burns
with its maiden flame; all the more for what lie has borne for my sakeboth private and public wrongs. His plan to keep back scandals long ago
threatened against me I never approved, and the result shows it unavailing; but few would have risked so muchl as hlie has sacrificed for others
ever since the conspiracy began against him, two years ago.
Having had power to strike others, he has forborne to use it, and allowed
himself to be injured instead. No wound is so great to me as the imputation that he is among my accusers. I bless him every day for his faith in
me, which swerves not, and for standing my champion against all my
accusers.                                        ELIZABETII R. TILTON.
Upon the strength of that I thereafterwards said that Mrs.
Tilton denied the story. About the 16th of December, 1872,
Mr. Carpenter and Dr. Storrs undertook to look up the reports,
with the intention, as I understood, of advising some public
statement, or as being concerned in some investigation of the
matter, and Mrs.               Tilton wrote f or them the following paper
bearing that date, which I produce marked " LL ":
DECEMBER 16th, 1872. 7
In July, 1870, prompted by my duty, I informed my husband that Mr.
H. W. Beecher, my friend and pastor, had solicited me to be a wife to him,
together with all that this implied.  Six months afterwards my husband
felt impelled by the circumnstaies of a conspiracy against him, in which
Mrs. Beecher had taken art, to have an interview with Mr. Beecher.
534:
0 
SHE SIXGNS THE PAPER.
In order that Mr. B. might know exactly what I had said to my husband,
I wrote a brief statenlent (I have forgotten in what form), which my husband showed to Mr. Beecher. Late the same evening Mr. B. came to me
(lying very sick at the time) and filled me with distress, saying I had
ruined him, and wanting to know if I meant to appear against him. This
I ce tainly did not mean to do, and the thought was agonizing to me.  I
then signed a paper which he wrote, to clear him in case of a trial. In
this instance, as in most others when absorbed by one great interest or
feeling, the harmony of my nmind is entirely disturbed, and I found on
reflection that this paper was so drawn as to place me most unjustly
against my husband and on the side of Mr Beecher. So in order to
repair so cruel a blow to my long suffering husband, I wrote an explanation
of the first paper and my signature.  Mr. Moulton procured froml Mr. B.
the statement which I gave to him in my agitation and excitement, and
now holds it.
This ends my connection with the case.     ET,LIZABETH R. TILTON.
P. S.-This statement is made at the request of Mr. Carpenter, that it
may be shown confidentially to Dr. Storrs and other friends with whom my
husband and I are consulting.
This paper was delivered to me, and the theory of the confession then was that Mr. and  Mrs. Tilton should admit no
more than the solicitation; but that endeavor to make an
explanation of the bulsiness fell through,  and after it was
shown to those interested, as I was told, the paper remained
with me.
I received no further communication from Mrs. Tilton until
the 25th of June of this year (1874), and that communication
came to me in this wise. When Tilton showed me his Dr.
Bacon's letter I most strongly and earnestly advised against its
publication, and staid to him in substance, that, while I admitted the wrong and injustice of Dr. Bacon's  charges, that he
(Mr. T.) had lived by the magnanimity of Beecher, and  that
he was a dog and a knave, when  I believed he had  acted a
proper and manly part in endeavoring to shield his family, yet
that its ptublication would so stir the public mind  that an
investigation would be forced upon him  and Beecher in some
manner which I could not then foresee, and that the truth
would in all probability have to come out, or so much of it
that Mrs. Tilton and Beecher would be dishonored  and destroyed, and he himself he subjected to the severest criticism.
Notwithstanding my adace, he was so wrought up with the
continued assaults upon him by the friends of Beecher- that he
determined on the publication of the letter.
535, 
P UBLICA TIO OFP THE LETTER.
Hie said to me, in substance, that as the course I had advised
in the matter in regard to the church investigation had bete,n
so completely set aside by Beecher's friends, and they had so
far ignored all propositions coming from me as to the best
mode of disposing of the matter, they evidently did not any
longer intend to be guided by my counsel or wishes; and if
Beecher and his friends set me aside in the matter, he (Mr. T.)
could see no reason why he should any longer yield to my cn treaties or follow my lead.  The only modification that I was
able to get of the B13.con letter was this:-It originally read
that Beecher had committed against him and his family "a
revolting crime.
I insisted that that should be changed into "an offence cornm mitted against me," which was done, and the letter was pub lished in that form.
The reasons which actuated me to require this change by
Tilton in his letter were in the hope that reconciliation and
peace might still be possible.  As the letter as amended would
state an offence only, and also that an apology sufficientt in
the mind of Tilton had been made for that offence, if Beecher,
in reply to the Bacon letter, should come out and state that it
was true he had committed an offence against Tilton for
which he had made the most ample apology, which had been
accepted by Tilton as satisfactory, and as the matter was
nobody's business but that of the parties interested, he would
never become a party to any investigation of the subject, and
that Tilton had acted not unjustly or unfairly toward him il
what he had done; that in such case the affair might possibly
have been quieted and peace maintained. But if the words
"revolting crime" remained in the letter all hope of reconciliaation or escaping the fullest investigation would be impossible.
After the publication of that letter I so advised Mr. Beecher,
his friends and counsel, but that advice was unheeded; and I
also gave Mlr. Beecher the same advice at a consultation with
him for which he asked in a letter, which will hereafter in its
proper place be produced.   Some  days subsequent to this
advice of mine to Tilton, I received the following letter, of
date June 25th, 1874, from Mrs. Tilton, which is the last
communication I have had with or from her on the subject
It is herewith produced, and marked "MM"I:
June 25th, 1874.
MIR. MOULTON:-It is fitting I Should make quick endeavor to undo nmy
injustice toward you.    *
536 
WOODHULL DESIRES JUSTICE.
I learned from Theodore last night that you greatly opposed the publication of his statement to Dr. Bacon. I had coupled you with Mr. Carpenter as advising it.
Forgive me, and accept my gratitude.                ELIZ. R. TILTON.
Having now placed before the committee my statement of
the facts concerning Mrs. Tilton and the documentary evidence
that I have to sup)port them, and as they are diametrically opposed to nearly all that Mrs. Tilton appears to declare in her
published statement, I deem it my duty to myself and my position in this terrible business to say that during this affair Mrs.
Tilton has more than once admitted to me and to another person to my knowledge-whomn I do not care to bring into this
controversy-the fact of her sexual relations with Beechler, and
she never has once denied them other than in the written
papers prepared for a purpose which I have already exhibited;
but, on tho contrary, the fact of such criminal intercourse
being well understood by Beecher, Tilton and Mrs. Tilton to
have taken place, my whole action in the matter was based
upon the existence of that fact, and was an endeavor, faithfully
carried out by me in every way possible, to protect the families
of both parties from the consequences of a public disclosure
of Mrs. Tilton's admitted infidelities to her husband.
I now return to the documentary evidence, and the necessary explanations thereof, which I have of the condition of
the affair as regards Beecher himself, after the fall of 1871, as
disconnected with the affair of Bowen, which I have already
explained. At about this time I received the following letter,
marked "MM 2":
No. 15 EAST THIRTY-ETGHTH STREET, 19th, 11th, 1871.
Rev. H. W. B)ECHER:
DEAR SIR:-For reasons in which you are deeply interested as well as
myself, and the cause of truth, I desire to have an interview with you,
without fail, at some hour to-morrow.  Two of your sisters have gone out
of their way to assail my character and purposes, both by the means of the
public press and by numerous private letters written to various persons
with whom they seek to injure me and thus to defeat the political ends at
which I aim.
You doubtless know that it is in my power to strike back, and in ways
more disastrous than anything that can come to me; but I do not desire to
do this.   I simply desire justie from those from whom I have a right
to expect it; and a reasonable course on your part will assist me to it.  I
speak guardedly, but I think you will understand Ine.   I repeat that I
23*
537
0 
MOULTO4 GOES TO STEINWAY HALL.
must have an interview to-morrow, since I am to speak to-morrow
evening at Steinway lhall, and what I shall or shall not say will depend
largely upon the result of the interview.  Yours very truly,
VICTORIA C. WOODIIULL.
P. S.-Please return answer by bearer.
The foregoing letter occasioned Mr. Tilton much anxiety
lest Mrs. Woodhull, in proceeding against Mr. Bcecher and his
sisters, would thereby involve Mrs. Tilton.
Accordingly, knowing that Mr. Beecher and Mrs. Woodhull
were to have an interview at my house oin the next day, he
came to it uninvited, and urgid Mri. Beecher to preside on that
evening at Steinway Hall.  After Mrs. W. left Tilton repeated
this urgency to Beeciher.
On that evening I went to Steinway Hall with Tilton, and,
finding no one there to preside, Tilton volunteered to preside
himself, which, I believe, had the effect of preventing Mrs.
Woodhull's proposed attack on the Beecher family at that time.;
On the 30th of December, 1871, Mrs. Woodhull also sent a letter to Beecher desiring that he would speak at a woman's suffrage convention in Washington, to be held on the 10thl, 11th
and 12th of January following. That letter Beecher forward(led
to me, with the following note of date the 2d of January, 1872,
herewith produced and marked " NN: "
BROOKLYN, TUESDAY EvENING, January 2d, 1872.
MY DEAR MOULTON:-1.  I send you V. W.'s letter to me and a reply
which I submit to your judgment. Tell me what you think. Is it too
long? Wrill she use it for publishing? I do not wish to have it so used.
I do not mean to speak on the platform of either of the two suffrage
societies. What influence I exert I prefer to do on my own hook; and I
do not mean to train with either party, and it will not be fair to press me
in where I do not wish to go. But I leave it for you. Judge for me. I
have leaned on you hitherto, and never been sorry for it.
2.  I was mistaken about the Ch. Union coming out so early that I could
not get a notice of G. Age in it. It was just the other way, to be delayed,
and I send you a rough proof of the first page, and the Star article.
In the paper to-morrow a line or so will be inserted to soften a little the
touch about the Lib. Christian.
3.  Did you think I ought to keep a copy of any letters to V. W.?  Do 
you think it would be better to Write it again, and not say so much? Will
you keep the letter to me, and send the other if you judge it wise?
538 
BEECHE AD VISES WTITi MOULTON.
4. Will you send a line to mny house in the morning saying what you
conclude?
I am full of company.
Yours truly and affectionately,                     H. W. B.
There is a parigral)ph in this note which needs a word of explanation.  I had advised licechler, in order that hle might
showv that there was no unkindly feelinig between him and
Ti[ton, to publish in the C'hristians (Uni(qz a reference to the
Goldetn Age.  He agreed to do so; butt instead of that he had
a notice which I thought was worse than if hle had said
nothing, and the allusion in the second parc,grapll of this letter
is to a letter which I had written to Beecher uponi the two
topics-this and Mrs. Woodlhull.
A retained copy of my letter I herewith submit, marked
"00:"
My DEAR SIR:-First with reference to Mrs. Woodhull's letter and your
answer; I think that you would have done better to accept the invitation
to speak in Washington, but if lecture interferes your letter in reply is
good enough, and will bear publication.
With relation to your notice of the Golden Age I tell you frankly, as
your friend, that I am  ashamed of it, and would rather you had written
nothing.  Your early associations with and present knowledge of the man
who edits that paper are grounds upon whiili you might have so written
that no reader would have doubted that in your opinion Theodore Tilton's
public and private integrity was unquestionable. If the article had been
written to compliment the Independent it would receive my unqualified
approval.
On the 5th of February, 1872, I received from Mr. Beecher
the letter which I here produce, of that date, and marked
, PP: "_
MONDAY, Feb. 5thl, 1872.
MY DEAR FRIEND:-I leave town to-day, and expect to pass through
from Philadelphia to New ltaven.  Shall not be here till Friday.
About three weeks ago I met T. in the cars going to B. lIe was kind.
WVe talked much. At the end lie told me to go on with my work without
the least anxiety, in so far as his feelings and actions were the occasion of
apprehension.
On returning home from New Haven (where I am three days in the
week, delivering a course of legures to the theological students), I found
a note fronm E. saying that T. felt hard toward me, and was going to see or
write me before leaving for the West.
539
0 
A YEAR OF SORRO.
She kindly added, "i Do not be cast down. I bear this almost always,
but the God in whom we trust will deliver us all safely.  I know you do
and are willing abundantly to help him, and I also know your embarrass ments." These were words of warning, but also of consolation, for I be lieve E. is beloved of God, and that lper prayers for me are sooner heard
than mine for myself or for lher.  But it seems that a change has come to
T. since I saw him in the cars.  Indeed, ever since hlie ha  felt more in tensely the force of feeling in society, and the humiliations which environ
his enterprise, hlie has growingly felt that I had a power to help which I did
not develop, and I believe that you have participated in this feeling. It is
natural you should. T. is dearer to you than Ican be. Ile is with you.
All his trials are open to your eye daily.  But I see you but seldom, and
my personal relations, environments, necessities, limitations, dangers and
perplexities you cannot see or imiagine. If I had not gone through this
great year of sorrow, I would not have believed that any one could pass
through my experience and be alive or sane.  I llave been the centre of
three distinct circles, each one of which required clearmindedness and
peculiarly inventive or originating power, viz:   1.-The great church.
2.-The newspaper.
3.-The book.
The first I could neither get out of nor slight. The sensitiveness of so
many of my people would have made any appearance of trouble or any
remission of force an occasion of alarm and notice and have excited, when
it was important that rumors should die and everything be quieted.
The newspaper I did roll off, doing but little except give general directions, and in so doing I was continually spurred and exhorted by those in
interests It could not be helped.
The "Life of Christ," long delayed, had locked up the capital of the
firm, and was likely to sink them-finished  it must b,e.  Was ever book
born of such sorrow as that was? The interior history of it will never be
written.
During all this time, you, literally, were all my stay and comfort. I
should have fallen on the way but for the courage which you inspired and
the hope which you breathed.
My vacation was profitable. I came back, hoping that the bitterness of
death was passed. But T.'s troubles brought back the cloud, with even
severer suffering.  For all this fall and winter I have felt that you did not
feel satisfied with me, and that I seemed, both to you and T., as contenting myself with a cautious or Sluggish policy, willing to save myself but
not to risk anything for T.  I have again and again probed my heart to see
wlhether I was truly liable to such feeling, and the response is unequivocal
540
0 
H. W. LOW-SPIRITED.'
that I am not. No man can see the difficulties that environ me, unless he
stands whlere I do.
To say that I have a church on my hands is simple enough; but to have
the hundreds and thousands of mlen pressing me, each one with his keen
suspicion, or anxiety, or zeal; to see tendencies which, if not stopped,
would break out into ruinous defence of nle; to stop them without seemning
to do it; to prevent any one questioning me; to meet and allay prejudices
against T. which had their beginn ng years before this; to keep serene, as
if I was not alarmed or disturbed; to be cheerful at home and among
friends, when I was suffering the torments of the damned; to pass sleepless nights Often and yet to come up fresh and full for Sun.ay.  All this
may be talked about, but the real thling cannot be understood from the
outside, nor its wearing and grinding on the nervous system.
God knows that I have put more thought and judgment and earnest
desire into my efforts to prepare a way for T. and E. than ever I did for
myself a hundredfold.   As to the outside public, I hlave never lost an
opportunity to soften prejudices, to refute falsehoods and to excite kindly
feeling amniong, all whoni I nlet. I am thrown among clergymen, public
men and generally the makers of public opinion, and I have used every
rational endeavor to repair the evils which have been visited upon T., and
with increasing success.
But the roots of this prejudice are long. The catastrophe which precipitated him from his place only disclosed feelings that had existed lon,g.
Neither he nor you can be aware of the feelings of classes in society, on
other grounds than late rumors. I mentionf this to explain why I know
with absolute certainty that no mere statement, letter, testimony or affirmnation will reach the root of affairs and reinstate them.  Time and woxk
qill.
But chronic evil requires chronic remedies. If my destruction would
place him all right, that shall not stand in the way. I am willing to step
down and out. No one can offer more than that. That I do offer. Sacrifice me without hesitation, if you can clearly see your way to his safety
and happiness thereby. I do not think that anything would be gained l)y
it. I should be destroyed, but hlie would not be sa.ved. E. and thle chlildren would have their future clouded.  In one point of view I could desire
the sacrifice on my part.  Nothing (!an possibly be so bad as the horror of
great darkness in which I spend much of my time.  I look upon death as
sweeter faced than any friend I have in the world.  Life would be pleasant
if I could see that rebuilt which is shattered.  But to live on the sharp
and ragged edge of anxiety, remorse, fear, despair, and yet to put on all
the appearance of seretity and happiness, cannot be  endured  mIuch
longer.
541 
A PRESFNT.'
I am wellnigh discouraged. If you, too, cease to trust me-to love me
-I am alone; I have not another person in the world to whom I could go.
Well, to God I commit all.  Whatever it ma.y be here, it shall be well
there.  With sincere gratitude for your heroic friendship, and with sincere
affection, even though you love me not, I am yours (thlough  unknown to
you),                                                            Iti. W. B.
This letter was to let me know that Elizabl)eth had written
hiiii, contrary to her promise, withliot my t,ermission, and talso
to inform me of his fears as to the change ill Tiltoij'smind,
and its clear statement of the case as it then stood, cannot be
fulrtlier elucidated by me.   On the 25th of March I received
a portrait of Titian as a present from Mr. Beecher, with the
follo)wing note, as a token of his confidence and respect.  It is
produced, and marked "QQ  "
MY DEAR FRIEND:-I sent on Friday or Saturday a portrait of Titian
to the store to you. I hope it may suit you.
I have been doing ten men's work this winter-partly to make up lost
time, partly because I live under a cloud, feeling every month that I may
be doing my last work, and anxious to make the most of it. When Esau
sold his birthright he found "no place for repentance, though hlie sought it
carefully with tears." But I have one abiding comfort. I have known
you, and found in you one who has given a new meaning to friendship.
As soon as warmn days come I want you to go to Peekskill witli mIc.
I am off in an hour for Massachusetts, to be gone all tihe week.
I am urging forward my second volume of "Life of Christ," for "tile
night cometh when no man can work."
With much affection and admiration, yours truly,          H. W. B.
MARCH 25th, 1872.  Monday mnorning.
After Tilton  had written  a campaign  document  against
Grant's administration, and in favor of Mr. Gr(elev's election,
Beechler discussed with me the position taken by Tilton. Beecher also gave  me  a copy of his (Beecher's) speech opening the
Grant campaign in Brooklyn. After the speech was delivered
lihet sent me the f)llowing note of May 17th, 1872, which I here
produce, marked "R R:"
May 17th, 1872.
MlY DEAR FRANK;-I send you the only copy I have of my speech at
the Academy of Music on Grant, and have marked the passage that we
spoke about last night, and you will see just what I said, and that I argued
e
then just as I do now.
Pray send it back, or rshall be left without a speech!
542 
MRS. BEECHER LOOKS REVENGEFUL.
I read Theodore's on Grant. I do not think it just. It is ably written;
it is at case of grape shot.  fit, I think it will overact; it is too strongwill be likely to produce a feeling among those not already intense, that it
is excessive.  Yours sincerely and ever,                        11. W. B.
Don't forget to send back miy speech.
About the time of this occurrence Beecher and Tilton met
at my house on fiiendly terms.  In fact 1 cannot exhibit better the tone of Tilton's mind in the winter and spring of
1871-72 than to produce here a letter, written to me at that
time without date, but I can fix the date as early as that. It is
here produced, and marked "' S S:"
HUDSON RIVER RAILROAD, Monday Morning.
MY DEAR FRANK:-I am writing while the train is in motion-which
accounts for the apparent drunkenness of this shaken chirography.  Mrs.
Beecher sits in the next seat. We are almost elbow to elbow in the palace
car. She is white haired and looks a dozen years older than when I last
had a near view of her. My heart has been full of pity for her, notwithstanding the cruel way in which she has treated my good name. Her face
is written over with many volumes of human suffering.   I do not think
she has been aware of my presence, for she has been absorbed in thought
-her eyes rooted to one spot.
A suggestion has occurred to me which I hasten to communicate. She
is going to Florida and may never return alive. If I am ever to be vindicated from the slanders which she has circulated, or which Mr. Bowen
pretends to have derived from her and Mrs. Morse, why would it not be
well to get from her and Mrs. Morse a statement under oath  (by such a
process as last evening's documents make easy and harmless) of the exact
narrations which they made to him and to others.
It would be well to have them say what they said before he gets a chance
to say what they said to him.  Speak to Mr. Ward about it.  Of course I
leave the matter wholly to you and him.
I am unusually heavy hearted this morning.  My sullen neighbor keeps
the dark and lurid past vividly before my nmind.  If she actually knew the
conduct which her priestly husband has been guilty of, I believe she would
shed his blood-or perhaps, saving him, she would wreak her wrath on his
victims.  There is a look of desperation in her eye to-day as if she were
competent to anything bitter or revengeful. But perhaps I nmisjudge her
mind. I hope I do.
I shall not be home till Thursday afternoon instead of morning, as I said
-leaving for Washington at nin P. M. that evening.  Ever yours,
THEODORE.
543
0 
VICTORIA TO BEECHER.
On the 3d of June, 1872, Beecher received from Mfrs Woodhull the following letter of that date, which I here produce,
marked " T T: "
44 BROAD STREET, June 3d, 1872.
Rev. HENRY WARD BEECHER:    MY DEAR SIR:-The social fight against me being now waged in this
city is becoming rather hlotter than I can well endure longer, standing unsupported and alone, as I have until now.  W'ithin the past two weeks I
have been shut out of hotel after hotel, and amn now, after having obtained
a place in one, hunted down by a set of males and females, who are determined that I shall not be permitted to live even, if they can prevent it.
Now, I want your assistance. I want to be sustained in my position in
the Gilsey House, from which I am ordered out and from which I do not
wish to go-and all this simply because I am Victoria C. WVoodlull, tke
advocate of social freedom. I have submitted to this persecution just so
long as I can endure to; my business, my projects, in fact everything for
which I live suffers from it, and it must cease.  Will you lend me your aid
in this?  Yours very truly,                    VICTORIA C. WOODHULL.
The above letter was sent to me enclosed ill note from
Beecher of the same date, which is here produced, and marked
" UU:'"
MONDAY EVENING, June 3d, 1872.
MY DEAR MR. MOULTON:-Will you answer this?  Or will you see that
she is to understand that I can do nothing! I certainly shall not, at any
and all hazards, take a single step in that direction; and if it brings
trouble-it must come.
Please drop me a line to say that all is right-if in your judgment all is
right.  Truly yours,                                           H. W. B.
This letter of Mrs. Woodhull, together with those before
produced asking Beecher to speak at a suffrage convention, are
all the letters I have from her to Beecher. To this letter no
reply was made.
After the publication of the tripartite covenant by Mr.
Wilkeson, which I believe was on the 29th of May, 1873, the
sto)ry of the troubles between Beecher and Tilton was revived,
with many rumors, and those claiming to be friends of Beecher were endeavoring, as Tilton thought, to explain the terms
of that co)venant in a manner prejudicial to him.  Some enenlues of Beecher were endeavoring to get some clew to the
proofs of the facts at the bttom of these scandals.
After the publication of this "tripartite covenant" was
54.1 
TILTON'S CO URTES Y.,
made, Tilton deemed, from the comments of the press, that
tile statement reflected upon him, and he desired that in some
way Beecher should relieve him irom the imputation of having
circulated slanderous stories about him without jistifieation,
for which he had apologized, and by advice of frii(nds lie prepared a cardI forme to submit to Beecherto have him sign and
publish in his vindication.  The original card I herewith produce, nmarked "i UU 1":
A letter written by Theodore Tilton to Henry C. Bowen, dated Brooklyn, January 1st, 1871, narrating charges made by Mr. Bowen against my
character, has been made public in a community in which I am a citizen
and clergyman, and thrust upon me, by no agency of my own, what I could
not with propriety invite for myself-namely, an opportunity to make the
following statements:  1.  By the courtesy of Mr. Tilton, that letter was shown to me at the
time it was written, and before it was conveyed to Mr. Bowen, two and a
half years ago.   By legal and other advisers, Mr. Tilton was urged to
publish it then, without delay, or a similar statement explaining his sudden
collision with Mr. Bowen, and his unexpected retirement as editor of the
Uneio  and contributor to the LI,dependent.  But altlhough Mlr. Tilton's
public standing needed such an explanation to be made, and altlhough he
had my free consent to make it, yet he magnanimously refrained from
doing so, through an unwillingness to disclose to the public Mr. Bowen's
aspersions concerning myself. Mr. Tilton's consideration for my feelings
and reputation, thus evinced from the beginning, has continued to the end,
and I have never ceased to be grateful to him for an uncommon manliness
in accepting wounds to his own reputation for the sake of preventing
aspersions on mine.
II. The surreptitious and unauthorized publication last Sunday of Mr.
Tilton's letter-a publication made without the knowledge of Mr. Tilton
or myself-gives me the right to say that Mr. Bowen long ago retracted
his mistaken charges in the following words, under his own hand and seal,
dated, namely:  III. In addition to Mr. Bowen's voluntary statement above given, I
solemnly pronounce the charges to be falsc, one and all, and to be withlout
any color of reason or foundation in fact.
IV.  All my differences with Mr. Bowen, and all temporary misunderstandings between Mr. Tilton and myself, growing out of these, were long
ago settled justly, amicably and in the spirit of mutual good will.
0~I HENRY  VAR~D BECIIER.
Beecher felt much aggrieved at this claim upon him by Til
545
0 
THlE AGREEMEX.
ton, feeling that the matter had been all settled, and adjusted,
and he answered Tilton's application ill this regard by the
letter herewithl produced,  under date of June  1st, matrked
"UU 2:"
SUNDAY MoRNING, June 1st, 1873.
My DEAR FR.ANR:-The whole earth is tranquil and  the lheavenl is
serene, as befits one whol has about finished his world-life. I could do
nothing on Saturday-my head was confused.  But a good sleep has made
it like a crystal. I have determined to make no more resistance. TIlcodore's temperament is such that the future, even if temporarily earned,
would be absolutely worthless-filled with abruI t charges, and rendering
me liable at any hour or day to be obliged to stultify all the devices by
which we have saved ourselves. It is only fair that lie should know that
the publication of the card which lie proposes would leave himi far worse
off than before.
The agreement was made after my letter through you was written. He
had had it a year. He had condoned his wife's fault. He had enjoined
upon me with the utmost earnestness and solemnity not to betray his wife,
nor leave his children to a blight. I had honestly and earnestly joined in
the purpose.  Then this settlement was nmade and signed by hinm.  It was
not miy making.  He revised his part so that it should wholly suit him,
and signed it.  It stood unquestioned and unl)lamed for more than a year.
Then it was ptblished.  Nothing but that.  That which hlie did in private
when made public excited him to filry, and hlie charges me with making
him appear as one graciously pardoned by me! It was his own deliberate
act, with which he was perfectly content till others saw it, and then he
charges a grievous wrong hoine on me!
My mind is clear. I am not in haste. I shall write for the public a
statement that will bear the light of the judgment day.   God will take care
of me and mine.  When I look on earth it is deep night.  When I look to
the heavens above I see the morning breaking.  But, oh! that I could put
in golden letters my deep sense of your faithful, earnest, undying fidelity,
your disinterested friendship!  Your noble wife, too, has been to me one
of God's conmfo)rters. It is such as she that renews a waning faith in
womanhood.  N,w, Frank, I would not have you waste any nmore energy
on a hopeless task. With such a man as T. T. there is no possible salvation for any that depend upon him. With a strong nature, hlie does not
know how to govern it. With generous impulses, the undercurrent that
rules him is self.  With ardent affections, he cannot love long that which
does not repay him with admiration and praise.  With a strong, theatric
nature, he is constantly impo~d upon'withli the idea that a position, a great
stroke, a coItp d'gtat, istlie way to success.
546 
MY BELOVED FRANK.,
Besides these he has a hundred good things about him, but these named
traits make himi absolutely unreliable.
Thecrefo)re there is no use in further trying. I have a strong feeling
upon me, and it brings great peace with it, that I am spending my last
Slinday, and preaching my last sermon.
I)ear, Good God, I thank Thee I am  ihdeed beginning to see rest and
trirumphl.  The pain of life is but a moment; the glory of everlasting
enmancipation is wordless, inconceivable, full of beckoning glory.   Oh, my
beloved Frank, I shall know you there, and forever hold fellowship with
you, and look back and smile at the past.  Your loving          H. W. B.
MIeanwhile charges were preferred against Tilton for the
purpose of having him dismissed from Plymouth church.
This action, which seemed to threaten the discovery of the
facts in regard to the troubles between Beecher and Tilton,
annoyed both very much; and I mvself feared that serious
difficulty would arise therefromn.  Upon  consultation with
Beecher and Tilton I suggested a plan by which that investigation would be rendered unnecessary, which was in substance
that a resolution should be passed by the church amending its
roll; alleging that Tilton, hlaving, voluntarily withdrawn from
the church some four years before, therefore the roll should be
amended by striking off his name. This course had been suggested to me by Mr. Tilton about a year and a half before in
ailswver to a letter by Beecher, dated December 3d, 1871, marked
"UU 3:"
MY D)EAR FRIEND:-There are two or three who feel anxious to press
action on the case. It will only serve to raise profitless excitement, when
we need to have quieting.
Tlhere are already complexities enough.
We do not want to run the risk of the complications which, in such a
body, no man can foresee and no one control.  Once free from a sense of
responsibility for him, and there would be a strong tendency for kindly
feeling to set in, which now is checked by the membership, without atte(ndance, sympathy, or doctrinal agreement.
Since the connection is really formal, and not vital or sympathetic, why
shlould it continue, with all the risk of provoking irritating measures?
Every day's reflection satisfies me that this is the course of wisdom, and
thatt T. will be the stronger and B. the weaker for it.
You said that you meant to effect it. Can't it be done promptly? If a
letter is written it had better be vry short, simply announcing withdrawal,
and perhaps with an expression of kind wishes, &c.
547
0 
WEST PREFERS CHARGES.
You will know. I shall be in town Monday and part of Tuesday. Shall
I hear from you?
DI)ECEMBER 3d, 1871.
But wlhen the meeting of the church was held for that purpose it wts cl-harged there that Tilton had slandered the pastor.
Tilton theref,,re took the stand and said, in substance, that if
he had uttered any slanders atgainst Beecher lie was ready to
answer them as God was   his witness.  Beecher thereupon
sttted that he had no charges to make, and the matter dropped.
But when the resolution was passed, instead of being put so as
to exonerate Tilton, it was declared in substance that, whereas
certain charges had been made against him, and as he pleaded
to those charges non-membership, his name be dropped from
the roll.
This action of the church very much exasperated Tilton,
who thought that Beecher should have prevented such a result,
and that he might have done so if he had stood by him fully
and fairly as agreed. In ti)at, however, I believe Tilton was
mistaken, because Mr. William F. West, who preferred the
charges against Tilton, did it against the wilh of Beecher and
without aniy consultation with him, as appears by the lollowing letter of June 25th, 1873, produced here, and marked
", VV."
NEW YoRK, June 25th, 1873.
Rev. H. W. BEECHER:  DEAR  SIR:-Moved  by a sense of duty as a member of Plymouth
Church, I have decided to prefer charges against Henry C. Bowen and
Theodore Tilton, and have requested Brother Halliday to call a meeting
of the Examining Commnittee in order that 1 may make the charges before
them.
Thinking that you would perhaps like to be made acquainted with these
facts I called last evening at Mr. Beach's house, where I was informed
that you had returned to Peekskill.
I therefore write you by early mail to-day. Yours very truly,
WM. F. WEST.
Meanwhile, through  the intervention of Dr.  Storrs and
others, as I understood, an ecclesiastical council had been
called. The acts of this council in attempting to disfellowship
Plymouth Church were very displeasing to Beecher, and
caused him much trouble, especially the action of Dr. Storrs,
which he expressed to mkn the following letter, dated March
25th, 1874, which i,nhere produced and marked "WW":
548 
STORRS 0 UTRA GEO   US.
[Confidential.]
MY DEAR FRANK:-I am indignant beyond expression.  Storrs' course
has been an unspeakable outrage. After his pretended sympathy and
friendship for Theodore he has turned against him in the most venomous
manner-and it is not sincere. His pro*ssions of faith and affection for
me are hollow and faithless. They are merely tactical. His object is
plain. He is determined to force a conflict, and to use one of us to destroy
the other if possible. That is his game. By stinging Theodore he believes that hlie will be driven into a course which he hopes will ruin me.
If ever a man betrayed another he has.  I am in hopes that Theodore,
who has borne so much, will be unwilling to be a flail in Storrs' hand to
strike at a friend. There are one or two reasons, emphatic, for waiting
until the end of the council before taking any action. 
1.  That the attack on Plymouth Church and the threats against Congregationalism were so violent that the public mind is likely to be absorbed
in the ecclesiastical elements and not in the personal.
2.  If Plymouth Church is disfellowshipped it will constitute a blow at
me and the church, far severer than at him.
3. That if council does not disfellowship Plymouth Church, then, nndoubtedly, Storrs will go off into Presbyterianism, as hlie alnost, without
disguise, threatened in his speech, and in that case the emphasis will be
there.
4.  At any rate, while the fury rages in council it is not wise to make
any move that would be one among so many, as to lose effect ill a degree,
and after the battle is over one can more exactly see what oughlt to be
done. Meantime I am patient as I know how to be, but pretty nearly
used up with inward excitement, and must run away for a day or two and
hide and sleep, or there will be a funeral.
Cordially and trustingly yours,                               H. W. B.
MARCH 25th, 1874.
No one can tell under first impressions what the effect of such a speech
will be.  It ought to damn Storrs.
While these proceedings were pending Rev. Mr. Halliday,
the assistant of Beecher, called upon him and upon me to
endeavor to learn the facts about the difficulties between
Beecher and Tilton.  I stated to Halliday that I did not think
that either he or the church were well employed in endeavoring to reopen a trouble which hald been adjusted and settled
by the parties to it, and that it was better, in my judgment,
for everybody that the wlhole matter should be allowed to
repose in quiet. The result of the interview between Halliday
549
0 
5DEAR VONMOLTKE.
and Beecher was communicated to me in the following letter,
undated and unsigned, so that I cannot fix the date, but it is
in Beecher's handwriting, and is here produced and marked
"XX."
SUNDAY-A. M.
MY DEAR FRIEND-IHalliday called last night.  T.'s interview withl him
did not satisfy but disturbed.  It was the samte with Bell, who was present.
It tended directly to unsettling.
Your interview last night was very beneficial, and gave confidence.
This must be looked after.
It is vain to build if the foundation sinks under every effort.
I shall see you at 10:30 to-morrow-if you return by waiy of 49 Remisen.
The anxiety which B(echler felt about tlhese stories and the
steps he took to quiet them, together with the trust hle r, pos,ed
in me and my end avors to aid him in that belhalf, maty perhalps be as well seen from a letter head(led "25,'73," which   I
believe to be Julie 25th, 1873, and directed "1Mydear Von
Moltke," meaning myself, atnd kindly complimenting nie with
the name of a general llatvit)g command of a battle.  It is here
produced and marked "' YY:"
25tih,'73.
MY DEAR VON MOLTRE:-I have seen Howard again.  He says tlha,t it
was not from Tlheodore that Wilkeson got the statement, but from Carpenter.
Is he reporting tlhat view?  I have told Claflin that you would come with
Carpenter if hlie could be found, and at any rate by nine to-night (to see
Storrs), but I did not say anything about Storrs.
I sent Cleveland over witlh mny horse and lbugg,y to hunt Carpenter.
Will you put Carpenter on hlis guard about lmaking such statenments?
From him these bear the force of coming from headquarters.  Yours
truly and ever,                                    H. W. BEECHER.
Meanwhile HIalliday had an interview with Tilton, the result
of which as unsettling the matter between Tilton and Beecher,
was very anxiously awaited by Beecher, who communicated to
me, and who was also quite as anxious that Tilton should take
no steps by which the matter between them should get into
the newspapers or be made in any manner a matter of controversy. With this view he stated the situation on the same
night of the interview of,Ialliday and Tilton in the following
letter, which is withgut date and was written in pencil in great
haste, and is here produced, marked "ZZ ":
550
-b 
LA US DEO!
SUNDAY NIGHT.
MY DEAR FRIEND:  1.  The Eagle ought to have nothing to-night.   It is that meddling
which stirs up our folks. Neither you nor Theodore ought to be troubled
by the side which you served so faithfully ip public.
2. The deacon's meeting I think is adjourned. I saw Bell. It was a
friendly movement.
3. The only near, next danger is the women-Morrill,'Bradshaw, and
the poor, dear child.
If papers will hold off a month we can ride out the gale and make safe
anchorage, and then when once we are in deep, tranquil waters we will all
join hands in a profound and genuine laus Deo! for through such a wilderness only a Divine Providence could have led us undevoured by the
open-mouthed beasts that lay in wait for our lives.
I go on twelve train after sleepless night.  I am anxious about Theodore's interview with Halliday.  Will you send me a line Monday night or
Tuesday morning, care of M. P. Kennard, Boston, Mass.
I shall get mails there till Friday.
I halve now produced to the committee all the letters and
documents betrilng Ulpon the subject matter of this inquiry
which I hl(ve in my possession, either' from Beecher, Tilton or
Mrs. Tilton, previous to the Bacon letter, and there is but one
collateral matter of which I desire to speak.
I s-Lw questions put in the cross-examination of Tilton, as
published in the Brooklyn Eagle, and also published in the
newspapers-with  how  much  of truth  I know  not-that
Mr. Samuel Wilkeson had charged that Tilton's case (in
controversy with Bowen) was for the purpose of blackmailing him and Beecher, and that he (WViikeson) knew that
there had been no crime committed against Tilton or his
household by Beecher. Beecher never initimat,:d to me that
he thought there was any desire on Tilton's part to blackmail him; and as I had the sole management of the money
controversy between Tilton and Bowen, which I have already
tfully explained, I know there was no attempt on Tilton's part
to blackmail or get anything more than what I believed his
just due from Bowen   To that I am certain that Mr. WVilkeson
is wholly mistaken in that regard.
The question whether Wilkeson knew or believes that any
offence had been committed wj[l depend upon the fact whether
he knew of anything that had Seen done by Beecher or Tilton's
wife which called for apology at the time he wrote the tripartite
551' 
THE WORLD UPSIDE DO WN.
covenant. It will be remembered that the tripartite covenant
wa       s ma   de solely in reference to the disclosures which  Bowen
h ad           made to T ilton and  Tilton had  made  to Bowen,  and
Ti itoi-      s  l etter sets forth that the only disclosure  he niade to
Bowen of Beect.er's acts towards himself were of improper
advances made to his wife, and that he so limited his charge
i     n       orde r to  save tle   honor of his wife.   These questions will be
answered by the production of the letter of April 2d, 1872,
written  by Samuel Wilkeson, which are marked "AAA":                       NORTHliERN PACIFIC RAILROAD COMPANY, )
SECRETARY'S OFFICE, 120 BROADWAY, 
NEW YORK, April 2d, 1872. 
MY DEAR MOULTON:-Now for the closing act of justice and duty.
Let Theodore pass into your hand the written apology which he holds
for the improper advances, and do you pass it into the flames of the
friendly fire in your room of reconciliation. Then let Theodore talk to
Oliver Johnson.
I hear that hlie and Carpenter, the artist, have made this whole affair the
subject of conversation in the clubs. Sincerely yours,
SAMUEL WILIKESON.
This letter, it will be observed, contains no protest against
blackmailing, either on Tilton's pait or my own, upon Beecher
or Bowen, and is of the date of the tripartite covenant. Wilkes on         also, hearing of Tilton's troubles, kindly offered to procure
him  a                  ver y lucr ative employment in a large enterprise with
which he was connected, as appears from a letter dated January                    1st,  1871, which I herewith produce, marked" BBB 1:"
NORTIERN PACIFIC RAILROAD COMP %NY,   1
Janlary 11th, 1871. 
DEAR TILTON:-You are in trouble.  I come to you with a letter just
mailed to Jay Cooke, advising him to secure your services as a platform
speaker to turn New England, Old England or the great West upside
down about our Northern Pacific.
Pluck up heart! You shan't be trampled down. Keep quiet. Don't
talk. Don't publish. Abide your time and it will be a very good time.
Take my word for it.                           SAMUEL WILKESON.
It will be observed that this letter was dated after the letter
of apology and after the letter of Tilton to Bowen, and Wilkeson could hardly have cdsired to employ in so grave an enterprise one whom hlie then knew or believed to be attempting to
blackmail his employer. And, besides, his kindly expressions
'552
0 
"GOLDEN AGE" BOOSTED.
and advice to Tilton seemed to me wholly inconsistent with
such anl allegation.
I think it just, in this connection, to state a fact which bears
in my mind upon this s                      ubj ect.  On the 3d of May,  1873, 1
k         ne      w      that Tiltoil  was  in want of money, and I took leave, without consulting him, to sen                 d him m y check for $1,000 and a due
b    ill for that amount to be signed  by himi, enclosed in a lettei
w h      i c       h    I here produce,  marke d "BBB2," all of which he returned(
to                     me with an iindorsement thereon. The followinig is the document:
NEw YORK, May 3d, 1873.
DEAR TIIEODORE:-I enclose to you a chleck for $1,000, for whichl please
sign the enclosed.  Yours,                               F. D. MOULTON.
[Endorsement on above by Tilton.]
DE)AR FRANK:-I can't borrow any money, for I see no way of returning
it.  Hastily,                                                           T. T.
After the above paper was returned to me, on the same dlay
I sent him the $1,000, leaving it to be a matter as between our'selves, and not a money transaction.
I know, to the contrary of this, so far as Beecher is concerned, that Tilton never made any demand on him ior money
or pecuniary aid in any way or form.  IIe asked only that
Beecher should interpose his influence and power to protect
him from the slanders of those wlio claimed to b)e 1Beecher's
friends, while 3Beechler himself, with generosity and kindness
toward Tilton, which had always characterized his acts dtiringr
the whole of this unhappy controversy, of his own motion insisted, through me, in aiding Tilton in establishing his enterprise of the Golden Age, for which purpose he gave me the sumi
of $5,000, which I was to expend in such manner as I deeme(l
judicious to keep the enterprise along(, and if Tilton was at any
time in need personally to aid him. It was understoo(l between myself and Beecher that this money should go to Tiltonl
as if it came from my own voluntary contributions for his b)enefit, and that he should not know —and lie does not know  until
he reads this statement, for I do not believe lie lis d(lerive(d it
from any other soturce-that this money came fi'om Beechier, or
thinks that he is in any wai indebted to him for it.  I annex
an account of the receipt and expenditure of that suim, so far
as it has been expendel, in a paper marked " CCC:"
24
553 
TO TEE TUNE OF 5,000.
STATEMENT OF ACCOUNT.
1873.
May 2d, received.............................................$5,000
May 3d, paid.........................7 —— e....................-$1,000
July 11th, paid................................................. 650
August 15tlh, paid............................................... 250
September 12tl, paid............................................. 500
September 30thl, paid.......................................... 500
December 16th, paid.......................................... 200
1874.
February 24th, paid........................................... 500
March 30th, paid.............................................. 400
May 2d, paid.................................................  250
May 26th, paid............................................... 300
Total.....................................................$.. 4,5r50
I also annex two letters of March 30th, 1874, fiom the pulblisher of the Gol(den Aqe, whichl will tend to vouchl the ex1)enliture of a part of the above amount.  They- are marked "l))D D"
anid"EEE" respectively: "
THE GOLnDE  AGE, NEW Yor i, Marcll 30tl, 1874.
[Private.]
DEAR MR. MOULTON:-We  are in a tight spot.  Mr.             is away and
we have no money and no paper.  Can't get the latter without the former.
We owe about $400 for paper, and the firm we have been ordering from
refuse to let us have any more without money. I-Haven't any paper for
this week's issue.  Truly yours,                         0. W. VRULAND.
If you can do anything for us I trust you will, to help us tide over the
chlasm.
TIIE GOLDEN AGE, NEW YORK, March 30th, 1874.
DEAR MR. MOULTON:-I am more grateful than I can tell you for the
noble and generous way you came to the rescue of the Go/de~t Age this
afternoon.  Truly your friend,                     O. W. RIULAND.
I think proper to add, further, that Tilton more than once
said to me that he could and would receive nothling fromn Beeclher in the way- of pecuniary assistance.  I remember one special
instance in which the subject was discussed between us. Beecher had told me that he Ads willing to fulrnish money to pay the
expenses of Tiltoir and his family in traveling abroad, in order
that Tilton might be saved from the constant state of irrita
554 
BO WE:N'S HA ML[ER.
tion which arose from the rumors he was daily hearing. I
rather hinted at than informed Tilton of this fact, and he repelled even the intimation of such a thing with the utmost indignation and anger.  Therefore I only undertook the disburseinent of this sum at the most earnest and voluntary request of
Beecher.
As I have brought before the committee the somewhat collateral matter of the letters of Birs. Woodhull to Beecher to influence him into the supplort of her doctrines and herself socially', which I thought but just to him, it seems but equally just
that I should make as a part of my statement a letter, that
came into nmy possession at the time it was written, from Tilton
to a fiiend in the West-andl not for the l)purpose of publication
explainingo his position in regardi to 3Irs. Woodhull anid the
injurious publication mande against him anid his fanily and MIr.
Beecher.  This letter I here produce, marked'FFF1- l"
No. 174 LIVINGSTON STEFT, BPOOKI,Y.N, Dec. 31st, 1872.
MY DEAR FRIENI):-I owe YOU a long letter.  I aml unwell and a prisoner
in the house, leaning back in leather-cuslioned idleness and writing on nmy
chair board before the fire.  Perhaps you wonder that I have a fire, or
anything but a hearthstone broken and crumbled, since the world has been
told that my household is in ruins. And yet it is more like your last letter
-brimful of love and wit and sparkling like a fountain in midwinter.
Nevertheless you are jiglt.  I am in trouble, and I hardly see a path
out of it,
It is just two years ago to-day-this very day, the last of the year-that
Mr. Bowen lifted his lammner, and with an unjust blow smote asunder nly
two contracts-one with the Iidependent and the other with the Brooklyn
Union. The public little suspects that this act of his turned on his fear to
meet the consequences of horrible charges which lie mlade against Hlenry
Ward Beecher.  I have kept quiet on the subject for two years througlh an
unwillingness to harm others, even for the sake of righting iyself befo)re
the public.  But, having trusted to time for my vindication I find that tilne
has only thickened my difficulties, until these now buflet me, like a storm.
You know that Bowen long ago paid to me the assessed pecuniary danmages which grew out of his breaking of the contracts, and gave  me a
written vindication of my course, and something like an apology for his.
This settlement, so far as I am concerned, is final.
But Bowen's assassinating dagger drawn against Beechler has proved as
unable as Macbeth's to "trahnel up the consequence."  And the consequence is that the ail of Brooklyn is rife with stories against its chief
e
555" 
THE TONG UE CANNOT BE TAMED.
clergyman, not growing out of the Woodhull scandal merely, but exhaled
with ever fresh foulness, Yike nmephitic vapors, from  Bowen's own charge
against Beecher.
Verily, the tongue is a wild beast that no man can tame, and like a wolf
it is now seeking to devour the chief shepherd of the flock, together also
with my own pretty lambs.
for the last four or five weeks, or ever since I saw the Woodhull libel,
I have hardly had a restful day; and I frequently dream the whole thing
over at night, waking the next morning unfit for work.
Have you any conception of what it is to suffer the keenest possible
injustice? If not, come and learn of me.
To say nothing of the wrong and insult to my wife, in whose sorrow I
have greater sorrow, I have to bear the additional indignity of being misconstrued by half the public and by many friends.
For instance, it is supposed that I had a conspirator's hand in this unholy business, whereas I am as innocent of it as of the Natlihan miurder.
It is hinted that the libelous article was actually written by me; whereas
(being in the north of New Hampshire) I did not know of its existence till
a weel  after it had convulsed my own city and falmily.  My wife never
nanled it in her letters to me lest it should spoil my mnood for public speaking.  (You know I was then toiling day and night for MAr. Greeley's sake).
Then, too, it is the sneer of the clubs that I have degenerated into an
apostle of free love; whereas the whole body of my writings stands like a
monument against this execrable theory.
Moreover, it is charged that I am in financial and other relations with
Mrs. Woodhull; whereas I have not spoken to, nor met, nor seen her for
nearly a year.
The history of my acquaintance with her is this:-In the spring of 1871,
a few months after Bowen charged Beecher with the most hideous crime
known to human nature, and had slammed the door of the i1tdepeqide)zt in
my face, and when I was toiling like Hercules to keep the scandal from
the public, then it was that Mrs. Woodlhull, hitherto a stranger to nme,
suddenly sent for me and poured into my ears, not the Bowen scandal, but
a new one of her own-namely, almost the same identical tale which she
printed a few weeks ago. Think of it! When I was doing my best to
suppl)ress one earthquake Mrs. Woodhull suddenly stood before me portentous with another. What was I to do? I resolved at all hazards to
keep back the new avalanche until I could securely tie up the original
storm. My fear was that she would publish what she told to me, and, to
prevent this catastrophe, I resolved (and, as the result proves, like a fool,
and yet with a fool's innocent and pure motive) to make her such a friend
of mine that she would never think of doing me such a harm.   So  I
556 
UNR A VEL MY SKEI.Y
rendered her some important services (including especially some labors of
pen and ink), all with a view to put and hold her under an obligation to me
and mine.
In so acting toward her I found to my glad surprise and astonishment
that she rose almost as high in my estimation as she had done with Lucretia Mott, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Isabella Beecher Hooker, and other
excellent women.  Nobody who has not met Mrs. Woodhull can have an
adequate idea of the admirable impression which she is capable of producing on serious persons.  Moreover, I felt that the current denunciations against her were outrageously unjust, and that, like myself, she had
been put in a false position before the public, and I sympathized keenly
with the aggravation of spirit which this produces. This fact lent a zeal
to all I said in her defence.
Nor was it until after I had known her for a number of months, and
when I discovered her purposes to libel a dozen representative women of
the suffrage movement, that I suddenly opened my eyes to her,'eal tendencies to mischief; and then it was that I indignantly repudiated her
acquaintance, and have never seen her since.
Hence her late tirade.
Well, it is over, and I am left to be the chief sufferer in the public
estimation.
What to do in the emergency (which is not clearing, but clouding itself
daily) I have not yet decided.
What I could do would be to take from my writing desk and publish
to-morrow morning the prepared narrative and vindication, which, with
facts and documents, my legal advisers pronounce complete.
This would explain and clarify everything, both great and small (including the Woodhull episode, which is but a minor part of the whole
case); but if I publish it I must not only violate a kind of honorable
obligation to be silent, which I had voluntarily imposed upon myself, but I
must put my old friend Bowen to a serious risk of being smitten dead by
Beecher's hand.
How far Bowen would deserve his fate I cannot say, but I know that all
Plymouth Church would hunt him as a rat.
Well, perhaps the future will unravel my skein for me without my own
hand; but whatever happens to my weather-beaten self, I wish to you, 0
prosperous comrade, a happy New Year. Fraternally yours,
TIIEODORE TILTON.
P. S.-Before sending this long letter (which pays my debt to you) I
have read it to my wife, who deires to supplement it by sending her love
and good will to the little white cottage and its little red cheeks.
The first intimation of the insanity of Tilton arose in this
557
6 
MEDIU1MISTIC FITS. 
wise:-Prior to Sunday, March 29th, 1874, a publication was
made of a statement by a reporter of the Brooklyn Union purporting to be the result of anl interview with MNr. Thomas  G.
Shearmian, clerk of Plymouth church, to the effect-I qu6te finom
memory —that Tilton was insane, and that he stated that MIrs.
Tilton had mediumistic fits-whlttever disease that may bein which she hadl stated matters affecting the character of
Beecher, and to the statement of ineither of them, for that
reason, was any credit to be given.  This publication, as it
tended not only to excite Tilton to a cldefence of his sanity, but
also, as coming from the clerk of Plymouth Church, might be
supposed to be an authoritative expression of its pastor, annoyed
Beecher very much, and he wrote the following letter, marked
"FFF 2," which I herewith produce:
SUNDAY NI(GIIT, March 29th, 1874.
MY DEAR FR.NK:-Is there to be no end of trouble?  Is wave to follow
wave in endless succession?  I was cut to the heart when C. showed me
that shameful paragraph from the Ua2ion.  Its cruelty is beyond description.  I felt like lying down  and saying, "I am  tired-tired-tired of
living, or of trying to resist the devil of mischief."  I would rather have
had a javelin launched against me a hundred times than against those that
have suffered so much.  The shameful indelicacy of bringing the most
sacred relations into such publicity fills me with horror.
But there are some slilght alleviations. The paragraph came when the
public mind was engaged with the council and with Theodore's letters. I
hope it will pass without further notice. If it is not taken up by other
papers it will sink out of sight and be forgotten; whereas, if it be assailed,
it may give it a conspicuity that it never would have had.  But I shlall
write Shearman a letter and give him my full feeling about it.  I must
again [be]; as I have heretofore been, indebted to you for a judicious
council on this new and flagrant element. My innermost soul longs fior
peace; and if that cannot be, for death, that will bring peace. My fervent
hope is that this drop of gall may sink through out of sight and not prove
a mortal poison.  Yours ever,                           H. W. BEECIIIR.
I have written strongly to Shearman and hope that he will send a letter
to T. unsolicited. I am sick, head, heart and body, but must move on!
I feel this morning like letting things go by the run.
The letter of retraction, as proposed by Tilton, not being
forthcoming, I felt it my duty, in his interest, to take such
measures as should resultein an apology fi'om Shearman to
Tilton.  I accordingly carried to him a copy of the paper having
0
558 
SHEAR A  NR  A ND TIL TO  I     V.
the article, and laid it upon his desk in his office, and said to
hin that if the statements in this article were not actually
made by him he ought to retract them.  Although it lay on his
desk he said to me that he had not seen tlhe article and did not
mean to see it.  I told him that he must see it, and if it was
not true that he must say so.  Hle said hle didn't want to readl
it andnwouldn't read it.  I then left him.  Afterwards I saw
Tilton and told him what I had clone, and he said, " we will <o
lup togethler," which we did, and met 3lr. Shearman.  AIr. Tiltonl called his attenttion to the statement in the Brooklyn Ui,io7L
as having comte from him (Shleairmnan), concerniling hinsielf ais(l
his wife, that one was crazv aind the other suLbject to iecdiuimistic fits.  Saidcl he, "Mr. Sherman, this is untrule, ai(nd if you are
not correctly reported your simple dclutv is to say so; nn(l if you
have made such a statement  I demand that you retract aid
apologize.  If you do not, I shall hold you responsible in any
way I can for such injurious statement."  Shearman thenl read(l
the paragraph in the Union, and made an explanation in this
wise:-That he might probably lhave repeated to somebody(   a
story which Tilton had told himn of the miediumistic states of
MIrs. Woodhull, and perhaps have made the mistake of using
Mrs. Tilton's name instead of Alrs. Woodliull's. Tilton said to
him, "MIr. Shearma,n, you know that you are deliberately utter ing falsehoods, and I won't allow you to think even that you
can deceive me by such a statement as you are making now.
You must make such an explanation of this statement in the
Uetion as shall be satisfactory to nme, or, as I said before; I shlall
hold you responsible."  During the first part of the conversa tion'Mr. Shearman called in a witness from his outer otlice, but
when the conversation became earnest and Tilton began chlarg ing him with an untruth, Shearman bid the witness retire, whichl
he did.  Tilton and I then left the office.
Within a few days of this interview Tilton procured the affli dlavit of the reporter of the UJiont that the statement that Shenr man had been reported as making he did, in fact, make.   On,
3Match 20th Shearman sent to me, for delivery to Tilton, a note
of which I produce a copy under that date, marked "GG(,"
The original was delivered up to Shearmnan afterwards:
BROOKLYN, March 30Oth, 1874.
DEAR SIR:-My attention has been called to a newspaper  paragr,ipl)t
which J have not seen, but wlieh I am told is to tlhe eflect that I stated to
a reporter that you had. described Mrs. Tilton as hlaving, in a mediullistic
559
6 
l HE HUM BLY RETiRACTS.
or clairvoyant state, made some extraordinary statements of a painful
nature.
I have for some years past made it a rule never to send corrections to
newspapers of anything relating to myself, no matter how erroneous such
statements may be.
But I have no objection to saying to you personally that this story, if
correctly quoted here, appears to be an erroneous version of the one ind
only statement which I had from you over a year ago, viz., that AMrls.
W oodliull did exactly the thing here attributed to Mrs. Tilton.
I do not know that I ever repeated that story in the presence of any
reporter for the paper in question, but I have done so in the presence of
others, and I may, of course, by an unconscious mistake, have used your
wife's name in the place of another and wholly different person. If so I
beg that you will assure Mrs. Tilton of my great regret for such an error.
Yours obediently,                                      T. G. SIIEAl'.-iAN.
When  I took  this note to Tilton he  reftused to receive it,
saying:-" I;will not receive any such note fiom  Shlearmail.
He knows it contains a falsehood and I cannot tlake it from him.
Yot may carry it back to lhiml."  I did so, -tind  stated to limii
Tilton's answer.   Afterwards hlie subl)stittited for that note another, under the date of April  2d, 1874, which is here produced,
marked " IHHH":
BiOOILYN, April 2d, 1874.
DEIR Si:-Having seen a paragraph in the Brooklyn UItnion of Saturday last containing a report of a statement alleged to have been made by
me concerning your family and yourself, I desire to assure you that this
report is seriously incorrect, and that I have never authorized such a
statement.
It is unnecessary to repeat here what I have actually said upon these
subjects, because I am now satisfied that what I did say was erroneous,
and that the rumors to which I gave some credit were without foundation.
I deeply regret having been misled into an act of unintentional injustice,
and am glad to take the earliest occasion to rectify it.
I beg, therefore, to withdraw all that I said upon the occasion referred
to as incorrect (although then believed by me), and to repudiate entirely
the statement imputed to me as untrue and unjust to all 1larties concerned.
Yours obediently,                                       T. G. SIIEARMAN.
TIIEODORE TILTON, Esq.
In no part of that negotiation did Mr. Shearman suggest to
me that there were any doits as to Tilton's sanity, and denied
both to me and to hin that hlie had ever said anytliing to the
560 
BEECHER D UMB.
contrary, or that MIrs. Tilton was in aniy way incapacitated(
firom telling the truth by reason of mediumistic fits or other
physical dclisability.  Sllhearman's action was comnmunicate(l to
Beecher; but meanwhile it had come to be spread al)otit that
Beecher had made a similar acousation as to the sanity of 1r.
and lMrs. Tilton to that of Shearmall.
A member of your committee, Mr. Cleveland(, communicated
the fact to Beecher, to which Beeclher made an incdignant denial,
as appears by his note to Mr. Clev-ela(nd, who co-mmunicated(  a
copy of it to me in a note under dlate of April 2d, which I here
produce, marked "III":
[Copy.]
MY DEAR CLEVELAND:-You say that I am supposed to have reported to
some members of the council substantially the same story that is attributed
to Shearman.
How can any human being that knows me believe any such impossibility?
I never opened my lips to any human being on the subject. I will defy
any man to face me and say that by word, look or intimation I ever alluded
to it. I have been as dumb as the dead. They that dare to say I have
spoken of it are liars, if they mean to themselves, and the bearers of lies
if they received it from others.
I have a feeling too profoundly sacred to make such sacrilege possible.
April 2d, 1874.                                     H. W. BEEcIIER.
FRANK MOULTON, Esq.:  DEA,t SiR:-Herewith you have  copy of a note received from  Mr.
Beecher respecting the matter of which it speaks.
Not seeing you when I called this A. M., and leaving the city, I send by
Mr. Halliday.  Mr. Beecher wants to see you before or qfter the meeting
this evening.  Truly yours,                           II. M. CL(v,VELAND.
Having retained the friendship of the principal parties to this
controversy down to to-day, I have not tlhoughtllt it proper to
produce herewith any letters that I have received from either of
themi excepting the single one exonerating me fi'ori blame and
showing Mrs, Tilton's confidence in me, which I thought was
due to myself to do because of the peculiar statement attributed
to her; nor have I produced any papers or proposals for a
settlement of this controversy since it has broken out afresh
and since the publication of Tilton's letter to Dr. Bacon and
the call of Beecher for a committee; nor have I since then furnished to either party, altbough called upon by both, any documents in my posession that one might use the same against the
other. I have endeavored to hold myself strictly as a mediator
24*
561
6 
BEECHER'S LAST TO FRANK.
between them, andl my endeavor has been, even dclown to the
very latest hour, to have all the scandals arising out of the l)ublication of the facts of their controversies and wrongs buried
out of sight, deeiniig it best that it should be so done, not only
for the good of the parties conlceriled and their fiamilies, but that
of the community ait large.
If any evildence were needed that, in the interest of the partics, andl especially of Beecher, I was endeavoring to the latest
holr to prevent the publication of all these documents and this
testimony, and that I retained the confidence of at least one of
the parties in that endeavor, I produce a letter of July 13th, 1874,
being a note arranging a meeting between myself and Beecher
in regard to this controversy.  It is markled, " JJJ":
JULY 13th, 1874.
MY DEAR FRANK:-I will be with you at seven, or a little before.  I am
ashamed to put a straw more upon you, and lhave but a single consolation
-that the matter cannot distress you long, as it must  soon end-thatis,
there will be no more anxiety about the future, whatever regrets there
may be for the past.  Truly yours and ever,              II. W. BEECIIER.
If there is any paper or fileact supposedby either of the parties,
or by the commiittee, to be in my posession which willthrow
any further light upon the sull)ject of Wyour inquiry, I shall be
most willing to l)roduce it if I hlave it, although I (lo not believe
that there is anyi such; and I am ready to answer any proper
question which shall be put to me in the way of cross-examination by any of the parties concerned or their counsel, as fully
as my mnemory or anv data I have will serve, so that all the
facts may be kune'wn; for, if anlly part of them be klnown, I deem
it but just to truth and righlt that all should be known.  As,
however, controversy has already arisen as to the correctness
of the reports of evidence taken before the committe, I must ask
leave, if anv- cross-examination is to be had orally, to be accoml)anied by my own stenographer, who shall take dlown the
evid(lence I may give as a necessary measure for my own protection. 
Leaving to Ayour committee, without comment, the facts and
documents herewith presented, I have the hionor to remain,
yours, truly,                          FRANcIs D. MOULTON.
Before closing this comipilation, however, justice to the committee and the reader requires that the conclusions of the jury
of inquiry should be embodied.  Discarding the studied argt
or -C) 2
0 
CO~IMITTEE'S CONCLUS10N.
ment  used to justify their verdict of " not guilty," as too  absnl(d, the gist of the report is given in the verdict attached to
the document that will ever sta(nd as a rel)ro.ch to its authors:
First —Ae find from the evidence that the Rev. IHenry WVard
Beecher did not commit adLltcet  witli Mrs. Elizabeth R. TiltonI, eitlher at the t:ime or times, place or places set forthl in the
third( and fourth subdivisions of Mr. Tilton's statement, nor at
any- other time or place lwhatever.
Secozdl-We findl firom  thle evidence that Mr. Beecher has
never committed anyt ulnchlaste or improper act with  Mrs. Tilton, nor made  any unchaste or improper remarks, proffer or
solicitation to her of any kind or description whlatever.
Thirdc-If this were a question of errors of judgment on the
part of Mr. Beecher it would be easy to criticise, especially in
the lighlt of recent events.  Inl such criticism, even to the extent
of regrets and censure, we  are sure no man would join more
sincerely than Mr. Beecher himself.
Fourtth-We find nothingi  whatever in the evidence  that
should impair the perfect confidence of Plymouth church or tlhe
world in the Christian character and integrity of Ilenry Ward
Beecher.
And now let the peace of God that passeth all understanding rest and abide with Plymouthl church and her beloved emi-.
nent pastor, so much a,nd so long afflicted.
HENRY W.SAGE,                    )
AUGUSTUS STORRS,
HENRY  Al. CLEVELAND,  i Committee of
HORACE  B. CLAFLIN,                Investigation.
JOHN WINSLOW, 
S. V. WHITE,                     J
Dated BRoOKLYN, August 27th, 1874.
Several days passed after the publication of 3Mr. Mloulton's
statemient before the committee appointed by 3Mr. Beecher
made their official repo*.  The public, however, had come to
understand just whft it would be, from a "brief" supplied to the
563 * 
A SAGE CONCLUSION.
Heerald and telegraphed over the country. This report was as
expected a vindication of Mr. Beecher, or as many journals,
and a large part of the community styledl it  wvhitewash."  The
document was a cunningly worded legal argument ill lwhichl
the authors sotoughlt to render the entire evidence of the I)rosecutor and his witnesses useless, inasmuch as a part of this evidence had been impeached by Bessie Turner, and other witnesses for the defence.  The committee came  to the Sage
conclusion that if the prosecution was  "tipped tup"  on a
few points their entire clargoes  must fail, ai(d hence  Ir.
Beecher aes vii dicateci (?) by a coiii?ittee of his ozwn choice,
co?)ol)osed of gettlemet who had a pec.tiiaiy  interest in Ply9iotth church, as IMr. Samuel Wilkesoil-according to Mrs.
Elizabeth Cady Stanton-bhnd in "The Life of Christ," that lie
feared, " would be lknoclked higher than a kite."  The compiler
does not consider the report of this committee of sufficient importance to embody in this work.  He may, however, be permittedcl to say that with every desire to fill the position of an
impartial historian, he can bu)t re,gret that the gentlemen who
hlav-e conducted the inquiryl should resort to the "     pettifogginil(r
mode of tr-yingy the witinesses fo) the p)rosecution rather than the
accused.  MIr. Tilton made specific charges, reduced them to
writiing, and made affidavit to them in leg,al form.   Mr. AMoulton sustained ASr. Tilton's most danaging charges, and supplemented his testimony with letters of a most damagingr chalracter, that, critically examined, gave force to the charges.  No
effort was made by the committee and its tricky legal advisers
to prove these letter forgeries; no attempt was made to lhave
Mr. Tilton indicted for perjury.  The policy of this biased
committee apparently was to paint Mr. Beecher as a pure and(
spotless minister, by blackmailing the character of every personI who had been known to have given currency to the reputed
crimes of the pastor.  These " chivalrous" gentlemen in their
desire to do their workl tdl had the exceedinigly bad taste to
stab the reputation of Miss Susan B. Alnthony, lwhose private
564
4b 
THE END THAT IS.NO T AN END.
character until Bessie Turner testified, stood as before the world
as that of any wife or maiden in the city of churches.  This
despicable subterftge was easily pierced by the eye of the public, and when MIr. Beecher's committee put it in force, the general exclamation, outside the Plyimoutli coterie was " shame!
shame! "  It would be a charity to throw the responsibility for
this heartless mode of conducting the investi,gationl upon the
counsel for the defence; but the gentlemen composing the conmmitte are persons of intelligence, familiar with the routine of
courts of law, and the author can find no excuse for their action, and helnce they must bear all the odium attachingl to such
irregular procedure.
W1hiile saying this much by way of criticism of the committee
the reader will please remember that the compiler still adheres
to the neutral position he takes in the preface to this edition,
and does not wish to give expression to any individual opinion
upon the guilt or innocence of IMr. Beecher.  He will however,
venture the opinion that the grossly partizan course pursued by
the committee has done more to injure Mr. Beecher in the estimation of the readcling public, than  tll the utterances of the
Woodhulll-Claflin women, and the affidavits and " gush" of SMr.
Theodore Tilton the accomplished novelist and poet.  The vindclicationi will pass for naught and in closing a compilation, the
object of which is to enable the reader to form conclusions of
his own from an unbiased standpoint, the compiler will express
the hope that the court of law, to which the inquiry now goes,
will throw such barriers about the legal lights who figure in it,
that will prevent the opening of the sluice gates and the firee
passage of a sea of scandal that threatens to swamp the characters of the innocent as well as the guilty.
Since the foregoing compilation was brought to a close supplemnentary statements have been published by MIessrs. AIoulton and Tilton.  Much of *at made by the former gentleman
is so very obscene tha the author is compelled to pass it over
565 I 
CLOSING REMA.RLK.
with the remark that the document as a whole, while very able,
clearly convictiing Mr. Beecher of misrepresentation, or willful
falsehood, certainly exonerated iMr. Moulton from the cli.tioge
of blacknmailing the pastor.  3ir. lMoulton gives letters, and
makes detailed reports of convetsatiois with MAi. Beeclier, in
whiclh that gentlemian admitted his adultery, that if sustained
in a court of law must result in MIr. Beecher's conviction.  The
statement or' 1Mr. Tilton is a strong one, calculate(l to strengthen
the views of those who, firom reading all the evidence ))'o and
con, have come to the conclusion that he is guilty.  He clearly
shows that the committee's report, (that until recently Tilton
had not charged Beecher with ad(lultery,) is untrue, and hlie does
this by embodying a copy of the speculations filed against him,
wlhen he was placed on trial before Plymouth Church for slandering M3r. Beecher.  The third specification accuses him of
charlgingo Beecher with the commission of adultery.  MIr. Tilton
also quotes a letter from Mrs. Tilton to her mother  (I[rs.
3Iorse), in whlich language is used that can scarcely be coInstrtied into any-thing else than an admission on the part of' Mrs.
Tilton of adultery.  The compiler does not believe that the
cause of nmorality and religion would be advanced by the reprodLuction of these two sub-statements in full, or that it is necessarv for a clear understanding of the deplorable controversy;
hlence tley are omitted in this compilation.  It is prohbble
that before the second edition is put to press a competent court
of law will pass upon the case, and therefore, for the present
this compilation is here brought to a close.
S       i921
o
566 
Agents anted I
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