Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Volume 6, Number 8, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 August 1874 — Page 3

xnoit work ourof it without essentially impairing it if I bad said word about thia to ray family, it would haro brought such distress and anxiety on the part of my wife, as I couldnot bear. I have for many years so steadily tasted my mind to the utmost that there have been periods when I could not afford to have people express even sympathy with me. To have my wife or friends anxious about it, ana showing to me, would be just the drop too much. In 1802,1 came again into the same condition, just before going to England, and it Was one of these reasons why I was wishing to go. The war was at its bight. I carried my country in my hoart. I bad the Independent in my charge, and was working, preaching aud lecturing continually. I knew I was likely to be prostrated again. In Decembor, 1870, the sudden shock of these troubles brought on again these symptoms in a more violent form. I was much depressed in mind, and all the more because it was ono of those things that I could not say anything about. I wu silent with everybody. My friends will bear witness that lu the pulpit I have frequently alluded to in my expectation of sudden death. I feel that 1 have more than once already been near a stroke that would have killed or paralyzed mo, and I arry with me now, as I have bo often carried in years before, this trouble. But bis wife still attended churoh And ho pod for his restoration. I recollect having with blm a conversation in which he intimated that be thought it not unlikely that he might get back into bis old position. He seemed to be in a mood to regret the past, and so when I was urged by the examining committee to take some stops, I said waH not without hopes that by patlenco and kindness Tllton would come back again to his old church work, and bo one of us again. I therefore delayed a decision upon this point for a long time. Many of our members were anxious and impatieut aud there woro many takers of trouble from this quarter. Meanwhile ono wing of the woman's suffrage party had got hold of the story in a distorted and exaggerated form, such as had never boen intimated to me by Tllton or his friends. I did not then suspect what I know now, that these

ATROCOIUSI.Y FAI43K RUMORS.

originated with Mr. Tllton hlmaelf. I only Haw thut the evil wus growing Instead of diminishing, and perceived that I was pledged to silence, and therefore oould not speak In my own defeuse. Some one wus forever persisting in Uie falsehood, which was growing continually In dimension, and these difficulties were Immensely increased by u« affiliation of Til ton with the Woodnuu clique. Iu May, 1871, Mrs. Wood hull advertised a forthcoming article, shadowing un account of the disturbance in Mr. Tllton's family, hut without using names. It was delayed by Mr. T.'h influence with Mrs. Woodhull until November, 1872. During this suspension of her publication she became the heroine of Mr. Moultou and Mr. Tllton. She was made welcome to both houses, with the toleration, but not the cordial consent of their wives. I heard the most extravagant eulogies on her. Hhe represented as a g*nius born and reared among rude Influences, but only needed to bo surrounded by reJlned society to show a noble and communing nature. I did not know much about her, and, though my Impressions were unfavorable, her roal character was not then known to the world. 1 mot her three times. At tho first interview sho was

gracious.

At the sec

ond she was cold and haughty, but at tho third was angry and threatening, for I bad peremptorily rofusod to prosldo al, a lecture she was about giving atHteinway Flail. Tho most strenuous oftorcs had been made by Tllton and Moulton to indueo mo to preside at this lecture, and to identify myself publicly with Mrs. Woodhull. It was ropro-

wonted to me that 1 need not, In so doing, expressly glvo assent to hordoctrines, especially with regard to the marriage rolation, on which point sho was beginning to be tnoro explicit in opposition to tho views in which I, In common with all Christian men, ontertained. lint It was plausibly urged that I could presldo at tho lecture, and Introduce her on tho sirnplo ground of advocating free spoech and liberty of debate. But as It was understood that she was about to show tho doctrines which 1 abhor, I would not bo Indue jd by this plausiblo argument to glvo hor publio countenance and, aftor continuing to urge mo up to tho day of tho mooting without any throats, but with the obvious intention that

MY l'KUHONAL SAFETY

would bo better Bocurod by taking this advice, Mr. T., himself, went over to New York and presided at the meeting, whero Mrs. Woodhull gave, as I understand, for the first time in public, a full exposition of hor lreolovo doctrines. The very thought that I should have boen asked tinder any circumstances, and upoji any SXCtlso, to preside or bo present at suoh a meeting was inexpressibly galling tome. Whatever my astonishment might have been, the motive of Tllton and Moulton in asking such a thing, of which I had not at tho tlino as clear a perception as I havo now, tho roquest was, nevertheless, a humiliating ono. At about tho same time, I found the circle of which Mrs. Woodhull formed apart was tho centor of loathsome soandals, organized, classified, and perpotuated with greedy and unclean appetlto for everything that was foul and vllo. I would not associate with these pooplo. Yet Mossrs. T. and Moulton had some strange theory concerning the management of this particular affair which always made It, in their judgment, necessary for them to maintain friendly relations with tho group of human hyeanas. From

thlB

circle, and from Mr. Tllton's standpoint of intimate associations with it, came rumors. Suspicions arose among my owo congregation which led them to presume with questions, and to originate investigations, especially into the case of Mrs. T., from whom a one, ad they generally believed, the rumors against me originated. In tbis sense thoy fastened upon it with oven more destructive efVect upon Its members than I then l'earod. I wrote a letter to Moulton, of which Tllton has given oxtraots, even more wickedly garbled than his other quotations,for he has represented two extracts from this letter as constituting parts of two separate letters,aud lias artfully giveu tho Impression that they were written in, or after June, 187$, whereas this letter was datod Fobnary, 187'2. He further says that this letter was written for tho purpose of being shown to him. I had not any idea of such a thing being done, as the letters shows plainly on its face, aud did not authorize any such use of that letter, whloh was supposed by me to be written and received In the most saored confidence. This letter is as follows as I am informed. An inspection of the original, would doubtless refrosh my memory concerning tho circumstances, but this Moultou denies to me:

Cross-Exarainatlon of Bcocher. Nsw York, August 14.--Tho following is a portion of tho cross examination of Mr. Beecher by Plymouth Church Investigation Committee:

Mr. Sage—I would like to inquire how Moulton first entered this case, aud how he camo to be your confidant?

A.—Mr. Moulton was a Rchool-mato and friend of Tilton, and Tllton, when his various complicated troubles came upon him lu connection with Bo wen, wont to Moulton and made him his advisor and helper. That is the way he came into the case.

Q.—Can you tell us how you oante to write that letter of despondency, dated February 5,1872, to Mr. Moulton

A.—I would come back from a whole week's lecturing, and would be perfectly tagged out, and the first thing on getting homo, there would be some confounded development opening on me. Iu this state of mind, in whloh I had not longor any roslstanoy or rebound In me, so I would work the whole week out, and that is the way It happened, time and time again. On one of these occasions, I went to Mr. Moulton's store. Moulton had always treated me with the greatest personal kindness. Ho never bad refused by day or night to see me or listen to me, I never saw him out of mood toward me. After the first few months he treated as if he loved me. On this occasion I went down to tho store to soe him, and his face was oold toward mo. I proposod to Walk with him, and he walked with me In such a way that tseemea to me as though it was trie some to him to havo mo with him, and na though he wished to shake- mt off. Now, anything like tha all bub kills me. I donTt wish to push myself upon anybody. To toel that have pushed myself, upon any human being that doesn't want me is enough to kill me, and to be treated so by him at that time made it seem to me as though the end of the world had come, for he was the only man on the globe that I oould talk with on this subject. I was shut up to every human being I could not go to my wife I could not .go to my children I oould not goto

my brothers and sisters I conld not go to my church. He was the only one person to whom I could talk, and when I got that rebuff from bim, It seemed its though it would kill me, ana the letter was the product of that mood Into which I was thrown.

By Page—When was this interview with the pistol A.—The first interview was at Moulton's house, December 30, and the next was at my own house on the next day.

Q.—Diayou cdnslder the interview at Moulton's house a threatening interview? I have beard from some •source that the door was locked.

A —That Is stated in my statement. Q.—Did Tilton at any time make any charge of adultery

A.—No, sir. q, What was Mr. Moultou's raannerj at the time when he demanded the retraction of Mrs. Tllton

A.—I should describe It as being one of intense excitement. supp would hlng of these troubles of Tilton with bis family had he been a successful man?

Q.—Do you suppose that you or the ommunity would have heard any-

A.—I am morally ccrtain the thing would havo been deeper burled than tbo bottom ol the sea, if Tilton had gone right on to his prosperous caroer, and no had had food which he had been accustomed to, but Tilton is a man that starves for want of flattery, and no power on God's earth can ever rnako him happy when he is not receiving some Incense.

Q.—I understood by yo» statement that you first met Moulton at Page's studio. Is that correct?

A.—I date my knowledge of the man from that time was having his portrait painted at the same time, and we met there occasionally. I recollect boing Impressed with the leoling that he was an acute fellow, aud he had 11 jiirv tastes, as ho has.

Q.—Had you ever visited his house In asocial way prior to his call at your bouse on this business?

A.—Never. Q.—Then you had no Intimate personal roiatlops with him?

A.—None. (J.—So that when he camo to you he enmo rather as Tllton's frietid than Otherwise?

A.—Altogether. Q.—When did you como to believe that that relation was becoming one of mutual friendship?

A.—I cannot toll you, but it was somotlmo aftorward. Tbo transition was mado during the consultations which thoy lydd as to how Bowen should be managed so as to do, as they said, justice to Tilton. Once or twice ho said to mo, when I told him something, "Tbon that is the right thing." I recoiled that on ooe occasion I made a confidential statement to him about somo mattor that they never could havo found out otliorwk and bo said,I don't recollect tho words I only havo a recollection of the Impulsion, that was made on my mind, that never 8'iould regret putting confidence in him. It sprang from some statemont it,ut I bad made. He gave tokon of his Moasuro at my trust in him, as if to encou.-(1g0

jf it wore a

full trust, and ho &id that I never should regret having

¥ut

confidence

in him, which I sfcall regret to tho day of my death. Q,.—If you used the words, "He would luivo been a better man in t*y circumstance than I have been.'' what did you mean by them?

A.—I do not know. I am sure theconversation went on hypothetieally in respect to tho betrayal of a friend lu the hour of emergency, in respect to undermining Tiltou just at the time when Bowen and all the world were leaving him. In respect to want of fidelity, and there is one thing that you are to bear in inind| a thing that I havo never mentioned to any of you, aud that had a very strong influence upon Mr. Beecher here told the story of Tilton going to Washington and having his son Henry appointed Lieutenant in the regular army. (J.—Hero are throo lottors written on Fob. 7, 1871. I am not quite sure that 1 understood you corroctly In saying that you did not see Thoodoro's lotter Lo Moulton of that date.

A.—I havo no remembrance of it. I only know there was an arrangement made among us to bring an influence to boar upon Elizabeth in cousoquence of hor stato of mind. I used to say to him: "Moulton, I am a man walking in open air, and full of work Theodore Is foot-loose,doing whatever bo pleases, and wo can come down and talk to you and have counsol but what human being has Elizaboth Tllton to talk to in hor troublo. Hho is shut up at homo, Biclc and unfrlondod, and It is not generous for us to lot hor go unthought of and uncared for." I was always saying that thoro ought to be somebody who should think of her.

Q,—In your letter of that date to Moulton, this occurs "Would to God, Who orders all hearts, and by His kind mediation, Theodoio and Elizabeth, and .could be made friends again. Theodoro would havo theohardest task In such a case." Precisely, what did you meau why that last sentence

A,—It is all a muddle to me, as I don't recall the precise working of my mind. I havo no vivid recollection of the making up of the letter, or of the precise moods under whloh I wrote. I cannot give the reason of tho sontenoe.

Q.—I call your attention to It because criticism Is made in cortain quarters that It referred to Mr. Tllton's maritaltroubles growing out of your offonco.

A.—Well, but isn't it a going baok to friendship? isn't it tho restoration of the family?

CJ.—What you ask for is that you throo be made friends again A.—Yes, that wo should all co-opor-ate. .•*

Q.—And you say that Theodore will httve the hardest task? A.—LThere was a family that, by circumstances, had beon brought to the bltterist antagonisms at a tlmo of the most profound advorsity when Tiltou bad got to struggle for Lis livelihood, for

IiIb

name, for bis position, and for

his household, everything put togetbIIo was in a situation in whioh he

or. had got to exert himself In every way for the restoration in ovory manner, and tho point was that she should cooperate with him as well as with his friends. If she had her sorrow to bear at homo, he had his too. That Is what I think. It likely may have suggested those words, hut I don't say that It Is, because I don't romomber. Elizabeth you know was immensely bitter against Theodore, and I felt that sho had been the aggrieved one. I had been led to suppose tbat she had not boon anything like so much agrieved as I now suppose she has been

Q.—Iu the same letter of February 7, you say "Of course, I oan uover spoak with her again without his permission, and I don't know that even then it would be best." Why did you say that?

A.—Becauso either at the time of tho lotter from Mr Bowen, or lu Its immediate vicinity, Mr.Tllton, as I have the linprossion now, sent word by Bowen, though I cannot bo suro of that, forbidding mo ever to onter his house again.

Q.—Nothing else? A.—No. I know I frequently said, "1 wish I was dead," and Theodore Til ton came and said he wishod he was dead, aud Mr. Moulton was froquoutly in a state in which ho wishod he was dead, and Mrs. Moulton said: "I am living among friends, every one of whom wishes ifo was dead," or somethiug like that. I dou't know that it was smarter than that, butshe put it iu way that was very ludicrous. Every ono of us used to be echoing that wish We were voxed and plaguod together, and I used the fauilllarphraao, "I wish I was dead."

Q.—The outside gossip is that you referred in that 11 to contemplated suicide.

A.—It was not. My genorai purpose in the mattsr of this whole thing was this, and I kept it as the motto of iny life: "By patient continuance In well doing to put to shame those who false ly accused tiie." I meaut to put down aud preach down this trouble. Of course, in my dismal moods I fhlt as though tho earth had come to an ena Now, in interpreting these special let_ tors, everybody is irresistably tempted to suppose that everything I said, was said narrowly in regard to their text Instead of considering the foregoing Btate of my mind, whereas, my utterances were largely to be interpreted by the past, as well as by the present or future. I cannot Interpret them precisely as I oan a note of hand, or a speech. A man that is poetical a man that is oftentimes extravagant a man that is subject to moods suoh as make me what 1 am, cannot narrowly measure his words, yet from this writing of over four years, in every conceivable condition in this large correspondence, proceeding from a mind, speaking in hypothetical moods, and in all manner of states, about everybody and everything out of this mass tbey have got only these few equivocal things devioes, whioh did not refer to me, but to him and his whole line of action.

Q.—Theodore said he was born for war, and Moulton was jirpbabty born tor diplomacy

'TV,..

A.-^fea. Q.—He managed tbi«"Ufattlttrwitb Tilton?

A.—Yes, he represented hlmadlf always having all the reins in his bands with each power that if worst should come to wont, be could compel a settlement. He intimated to me ime and again that he bad such maerials in his hands respecting Theoore, that as be said once, "If Theoore does not do as I say, I'll grind bim to powder."

By Mr. Winslow—The "yearning future" understand was to preserve the silence aud burial of tbe scanal.

A.—No, it was not that either. It referred to plans by which Tilton was to get something to do, and to do it and get some praise for it, and be content.

Q.—The device Did that refer to all tbe plans and arrangements and stpes that had been taken

A. —It referred to this. If I had beea left to manage this matter simply myself, I should have had said yes or no, and that would have beon the whole of it, but instead of that, tbe matter went into Moulton's bands, and Moulton a man that lores intrigue.

Q.~He had condoned his wife's fault what did you mean by this? A.—Condonedly has a legal meaning and generrl meaning, but I used tbe wordas a literary man would use, not as a lawyer. If I used it in a lega phrase, there would have been offense and not fault.

Q.—In using the word fault, do you refer to some particular act of Tllton? A.—I refer to the complaints he made in general. In respect to her you know perfectly what was the impression conveyed to me from beginning to end, and that was that I had stolen into his home, and that I taken advantage of the simplicity of bis wife to steal her affection to myself and away from him. 2.—And do yon moan to say you had that in your mind whon yon used tbo word fault

A.—I suppose I did. Q.—You say, in the same letter, he had enjoined upon you most honestly and solemnly not to betray bis wife in what respect?

A.—Not to betray this whole difficulty luto which his household had been cast. Consider how it is. Tappeal to every Sensitive man and cultivated nature in the world, if any greater evil can befall than have a woman, or wife, or mother made the subject of evil investigation as itsuspjcts moral character, for no great© harm can befall a woman than to be talked about from house to house with discussions as to the grade of the offense and probable nature of tlie offense, and cause of tbe offense, aud everything about it. Next to slabbing a woman dead is to talk about her virtue. And if the public suppose th^in order to Interpret these letters I mull refer to vulgar, physical, gross indiguity, then they are living on a plane where I do not live. You must rernembor I was aware that in addition to the troublo involving my name, Tilton had also, in fits of jealousy, accused bis wifo of criminal Intimacy with several gontlemon, of whom I was not pne, ana had asserted in tho presence

witnesses tbat all her children, except the first, were children of these Kontlomou respectively. In his decent mo*ds he was anxious to have such accusations unknown to tbe world the mere rutnor of them would oast an ineflacnable bviujht upon his children. Nothing wouie. have Induced me to mako this explafi«*,tou

but ttlllt

niton

has deliberately cliotwn to cast a blight k°»id UDOU thnun

of precisely the same ki^d upou thoao children, by his subsequem ourse, and all that is lelt to me is tho powor to speak of this abomlnablo accusntiou with the scorn which such a horrivig falsehood deserves. —You can rofor to somo po 1 which have already beon considered for a month"?

A.—I havo a strange feeling upon mo that I am spending my last Sunday, and preaching my last sermon. 1.—Do you refer to tbo same condition of health and mind that you have described

A.—I refer to tbo fact simply that it was my state of mind during tills great troublo, although if you wore to connect all the language I have used at various times, it might produce an impression thatl had wallowed in asoaof unparalelled distress. I have had stormy days, and have suffered more from this than probably all other causes in my life put together. Yet taking the four years together, I have had more religious peace and more profound insight into tho wants and sufferings of men since I have become acquainted with troublo and despair. I have had an experience in tbe higher regions of Christian life, that is worth all the sorrow and suffering that I have had to go through to get to it.

Q.—Is it or not true that in tbe course of these matters that Tilton expressed a strooir denim that tbo secrets of his family should not be known?

A.—Always at least that was his mood except when he fell intostroug mania at times. There were times in which it was very evident that he perfectly longed to be obliged to bung out, or to have somebody bung out a scandalous story on his family that he might have the credit with the world as to be so magnanimous as still to stay at home and live wltb his wife.

Q.—Here comes a class in which you express profound confidence in Moulton's fidelity.. Does that correctly represent your own feelings?

A.—It does although Moulton was not the man that I should select as an ideal man. I thought that in that one particular of fidelity to his friends, he was tbe most remarkable man I ever met, by amount of anxiety he was willing to give by amount of anxiety he was willing to encounter by doing the work, which, I suppose, is more agreeable to him than to me, that is, of seeing different parties, and of ferreting stories and running things back to their source. I utterly abhor social relations, and consequently try ing to keep me in good heart, presenting to me the best side of Tilten'a character, which he never failed to do When I brought to Moulton what Reemed to be the bad and treacherous things I learned of Tilton, ho said "Don't believe a word of such things I will make inquiries." And then the next time I would see him he would have a plausible explanation of the whole thing, and I felt as though it was no' use to see Tilton, that he had shot every arrow that was aimed against him. I have said this not only In reference to the impressions he had produced upon me, but until the time of the council I was in an abiding faith of Moulton's truth, until tbe reply of Tilton to Bacon's letter. I never bad suspicion of bis good faith and sincerity with which be wasdeallug with me. When that letter was published, and Moul ton, on my visiting him In reference to it, proposed no counter operation documents, no help,I was stag gered, and when Tilton subsequently published his statement aftor he oame to this committee. When that came out 1 never heard a word from Moulton. He never sent for me, nor visited me, nor did a thiur. I waited for him to suy or do something, for I bad said to Moulton within the last year: "As things are coming you are never going to manage Tilton he Is going to manage you." I have said to him onco or twice: "Moulton, Tilton is longerheadod than you are, and he has outwitted you." I have said to him "The time is coming in which I see dis tiuctly yon havo got to chose between Tilton's statement and mine." He said, "there never will be, but I shall stand by yoa to tbe death." He said this to me in the last conversation I had with him.

Q—Has Moulton auy secret of yours on paper, in document, or in knowledge "of any act of yours, that you would not have see light?

A—Not that I am aware of Q—Have you any doubt? A—I have none. .. —Do you call upon him to produe all he htis, and to tell all be knows?

A—I do, I do, by Cleveland. Q—Have you reason in light of reoent disclosures, to doubt his fidelity to you duriug those four years?

A—The Impression made by him during the four ye&ra of friendship and fidelity, was so strong that my sresent surprise and indignation do notseem to rub it out. I am in that kind ot divided consciousness tbat I wap in In respect to Elizabeth.Tiltou. That she was a saiut and chief of sinners, and: Moul ton's ihol^ipon my confidence was so great that all that has come out now affects me as a dr am.

By Mr. Winslow—In your letter of Feb. 5,1872, you speak of the possibility of aruinoos defense of you break

ing oat. How couldthere be any ruinous defense o/ you?

Q.—It would than be injorioust nT A.—Where you would say injurious I would say ruinous.

Q. —Yoa speak of remold, fear and despair A.—I suppose I felt them all, but whether I was justified in so feeling is a question. When J. lived in Indianapolis there was an old lawyer, named Calvin Fletcher, a New England man, of large brain, who stood at tbe head of the bar. He was a Methodist Christian and he took a great fancy to me and be used to come to 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 tbat he: never admitted that anybody was to blame except tbe party who attends the complaint. Bays he, I hold myself responsible for having everybody do right by mer and if they do not do right it is because I do not do my duty. And now, satd he, in preaching during your life, do yon take biame upon yourself. Don't you be scolding your church and blaming everybody. It fs your business to tbat your folks are right. Wellsee sank down into heart and beoome to spring of influence from that day at this. If my prayer meetings do not so right, it is my fault if the people do not come to 'church I am the one to blame for their not coming if things go wrong in my tamily, I nnd the reason in myself. I have foreseen quarrels In the church. If 2 had left them alone, they would burst and break out, but acting under the advice that was given, and doing my own duty, I have no difficulty in my church.

NEW YOKK, August 14.—Tbe letter from Beecher tg Moulton, referred to in tbe beginning of the cross examination is as follows:

I have no recollection of tieeing er hearing read a letter of Mr. Til tons of the same date. In my letter to Mrs. Tilton alluded to the fact that I did not expect, when I saw her last, to be alive many davs. That statement stands connected with a series of symptoms which I first experienced in 1856. 1 went through the Fremont campaign, speaking in the open air three hours at a time, three days in the week. On renewing my literary labors, I felt I must have given way. I very seriously thought that I was going to have apoplexy., or paralysis, or something, of the kind. On two or three occasions, while preaching. I should have fallen in the pulnit if I had not held on the table. Very often I canae near falling in the pulpit. During the last fifteen years 1 have gone into the pulpit a hundred times with a very strong impression that I should never eomo out of it alive.

I have preached more jiertnorii' than any human being would believe. When I felt all the while that whatever I had got to say to the people I must say it then, or I never would have another chance to use it. If I had consulted a physician his first advice would have been, "You must stop work," but I was in such a situation that I could not stop work. read the best medical books on symptoms of nervous prostration and overwork and paralysis, and formed my" own judgment of the case, '.flie three points I marked were, muRt have «ood digeslion, good sleep, and I must go on working." These three things

were to be reconcile^ and in regard to

iny diet and stimulant® and medicines, made a most thorough and saarching trial,»nd as the result managed thy body so that 1-could get the most work out of without OMeatially impairing it. If I had said a word about this to my family, would have brought such distress and anxiety on the part of my wife as I could ndt bear. I have for many years so stead ly taxed my mind to the utmost, that there have been tiems when I could not afford to have people express even sympathy with me. To have my wife or friends anxious about it, and showing it to me, would be just the drop too much.

In. 1803 I came again into the same condition,

juBt

MUCH marnmnoHl*^

In mind, ami all the more beSaiftie it was one of these things that I could not say

mgi

anything about, I was silept with eyerybody. My friends will be&r witness that in the pulpit I have very frequently alluded to my expectation of sudden death.

Q. An anonymous letter to the committee, froiu a free lover, says you have a reservation in your philosophy which would ehible you to say, "I had no wrong conduct or relations with Mrs. Tilton," having in your own mind a belief that what you are charged with doing, was right, what are your ideas on this subject.

A. I am not versed in philosophy and the casuistry of free love, I stand on the New England doctrine In whidh 1 waB brought up, that it is best for a man to have one wile, and that he stay by her, and that Jhe do not med* die with his neighbors' wives, and abhor

have known. Q. Did you ever know any one who was not ruined by it?

A. No sir, probably thev ,were susceptible of ruin. I have had women write to me that if I did not send them ten dollars they wereruined, and I wrote in reply they were ruined before.

J. You speak about handing Mrs. Tilton a copy et books was that an act of ceurtesy especially to lier?

A. No, I gave them out to friends —when the book came out I would give them out one by one to friends. I have not been a great distributer of my own books only in cases where it would be a treasure and from an intimation that it would be so.

Q. You

Bay

am not In

.,i.

A.—A defense of me conducted by A.—At people who knew nothing of ignorans, and oompelling this whole the factcne of wind, to deeoeod upon avalanmmunlty, might bave been ruinous. I think now asl then felt.

for

before going to England,

and it was one of these reasons why I was wishing to go. The war wad at its height. I carried my country in my hoart. I had the Independent in charge, and was working preaching and lectnring continually. I knew I was likely to be prostrated again. In December, 1870, the sudden shock of these troubles brought on again these svmptoms in a more violent form. I was very

that you never met

the \Voodhnll8 more than three times. A. I am perfectly clear, that is, to speak to them.

Q. State the times and places. A. On one occasion I was walking with Moulton in a 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 en and just see her." I said very well. I went in and, after some conversation down in the parlor, 1 went up stairs into the famous.bodoir room, where she sat waiting, and, like a spider to a fly, she rushed to me on my entrance and reach ed out both her hands with the utmost earnestness and said how rejoieo she was to see me. 1 talked with her about five minutes and then went downstairs. My second interview with her was on one occasion when I had been with twenty or thirty gents to look at the warehouse of Woodruff & Robinson. We were on the steamer that had been chartered for the occasion," and when I came up Moulton said, "Come with me to town." He never told me there was to be company when I came there, learned there was something in New Yerk in the evening, and that there was to be there a number of. ladies, among whom was. Mrs. Woodhull. I was placed at the head of the table, near Mrs. Moulton. I think on her left Mrs, Woodhull was next. She scarcely deigned lo speak to me. I addressed a few remarks to her during dinner, bnt but there was no sort of enthusiasm between us. My third and last interview was at .Moulton's house. She addressed to me a threatening letter saying she would open all the scandal, if I did not preside at Stewway hall, and in reply that, Moulton advised me tbat instead of answering her letter, I should see her, and Bay without witnesses what I had to say. 8he brought with her her great subject it was in type and my policy was to let her tklk and say a little which I did, a«d she went On say ing, you know yon believe so aad so, and I said nothing, and so on Irem point to •point until I said at last: Mrs. Woodhull, I do not understand your viewD I have never read them thoroughly, and as far as I do understand them I do not believe in them, and although, I am in favor of free discussion yet presiding at the meetings is a thing I seldom do lor anybody, and I shall notdo it for you, "because

"With your move-

gjrmpt

ment. }f¥ Q. Has lira. Woodhull any letters of yuto i* ker posseaeioB?

A. Two, sappoee^ ualesB the has sold them. Q, Upon what subjects?

A. Bhe enclosed a letter to me wth one from my sister, Mrs. Isabella Hook er, inviting me to be present at the suffrage convention at Washington. To tbat letter I replied briefly in the nega tive, but made a few statements in respect te my ideas of women voting. The other letter was just before her scandalous publication. She wrote to me a whining letter, saying that her reformatory move ments had brought upon her such odium that she ?odd not procure lodgings in New York, and that she had been turned ont«f the Gilsey House, I think, and asking me. in a very significant way to interpose my influence or some other relief

her. To that letter, I replied

very briefly, ssying I regretted when anybody suffered persecution for an advocacy of their sincere views, but that must decline interference.

By Mr. Claflin: These are the two letters, the signatures of which she showed to Bowen and myself It was reported that by these letters you were to be sunk forty thousand fathoms deep. I told Bowen before I went there, tbat I knew of the existence of the letters, and that was all they contained. Bowen made the journey clear down from Connecticut, on purpose to go up there.

By Mr. Winslow. Q. Did you ever meet ber at Tilton's? A. The first time I ever saw her was at Tilton's.

Q. Did you ever meet her there any other time. A. Not that I can reeall. If I saw her I am perfectly sure I would know it. I remember her well on account of the transcendent description I had heard of her, and because of Mrs. Hooker's feelings toward her. Mrs. Hooker regarded her as Joan of Arc would a vision of the Virgin Mary, and when 1 went to see it was with great expectations, saying to myself, "Here is this woman who is lauded everywhere, and must be a power to rise to the bead."

By Mr. Winslow. Q. Can you tell us what become of Mrs. Woodhull's threatening letter?

A. Mr. Moulton opened it. Q. Now, as to what occurred in your library and in Tilten's bed chamber I refer to the occasions when he said you touched hjs wife's ankle, and were found with a flushed face in the bed chamber of his house?

A. I do emphatically deny that cither of these scenes ever occurred. Mr. White. In one part of your statement you sary that in December 1870 you heard of many immoralities of Mrs. filton, and that you believed in their existence. In a later part of your statement you liay that you had been subsequently deceived into a belief that Tilton was not in fault in respect to his moral conduct, how do you reconcile these two statements?

A. When the matter caine to me from Bowen aud a visit of Tilton's family, I was under full persuasion of the truth of these things. One of the verv first things to which Moulton and Tilton had addressed themselves was lo disabuse my mind of the belief concerning Tilton's moral conduct. Tilton alluded to the subject of his own purity with circumstantial and historical statements, and Moulton's conduct rpecially intended to convincc me that all allegations against Tilton respecting such matters were false.

Q. Did you admit at any time to Moulton or Tilton, or any other person, that you had ever had any relations with Mrs. Elizabeth JH. Tilton, or ever oommitted any act to or with her. or said any wo*4 to her which would be unfit for a 'christian- man to hold, do or say with the wife of his- friend, or for a father to hold, do or say with hu daughter or a brother with his sister? Dia you ever admit this, in any form, or in any words?

A. Never. By Mr. Tracy: Q. Lid you ever in fact, holding such relations, do any such act or utter any Mich word?

A. Never. By Mr. Cleveland: Q. In your statement you have alluded to one payment of $5,000. Have you furnished any other money to those parties?

A. I have furnished at least $2,000 besides the $5,000. Q. To whom did you pay money?

that

A. To Moulton. Q. In various sums? A. In various sums, partly in and partly in checks.

cash

Q. Have you any of these checks? A. I hnvaaavoritl. I rloJa't itnombu how. many.

Q. Where are they? A. I have some of them here pne of June 23,1871, drawn on the Merchants' bank to the order of Frank Moulton and endorsed in his handwriting, and one of November 10,1871, payable to the order of Frank Moulton and endorsed in his hUtidwriting, and one of May 29,1872, to the order of F. D. Moulton and also endorsed in his handwriting. Each of these that are marked "for deposit" across the faqe have been paid.

Q. As nearly as you can recollect, how much money went into the hands oi Moulton?

A. I should say I have paid $7,000. Q, To what use did you suppose that that nloney was to be appropriated?

A. I supposed that it was to be appropriated to cxtricate Tilton from his difficulties in some way.

Q. You did

not

stop to inquire liow

or why? A. 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 Moulton for money during thost months?

A. I always did.

Q. Under what circumstances did you come to pay the $5,000 in one sum? A. Because it was represented to me that the whole difficulty ceuld be now settled by that amount of money, which would put the affairs of the Golden Age on a secure footing that they would be able to go right on, and that with_ the going on of them, the safety of Ti,lton would be assured, and that would be the settlement of the whole, thing. It was to save Tilton pecuniarily.

Q. Were there any documents shown to you by Moulton? What did he show you before you made the payments?

A. It was the result of intimations and general statements, and I finally said to him, "I am willing to pay $5,000. I came to do it in this way: There was a discussion about that paper Moulton was constantly advancing money, as he said to me, to help Tilton. The paper was needy. One evening I was at his house. We were alone together in the back parlor, and Moulton took out of his pocket a letter from Tilton. It was read to me, in which the writer mentioned contributions which the writer had made to Theodore. I understood from him that the writer of this letter had given him some thousands of dollars down in cash, and then taking out two time checks or drafts, which, as I recollected, were on bluish paper, although I am not sure of that. There -toere two checks, each of them amoutiting to one or two thousand dollars, or more, and I should think it amounted is ail to-about six thousand dollars, although my memory about quantities and figures is to be taken with great allowances, but it produced an impression on me that the writer had given him one or two tboeeands dollars in cash down, and, as the writer explained in a letter, it was not convenient to give the balance of the money at that time, but that the writer had drawn time drafts which would be just as useful to him as money and Multon stepped to the Uble

and

said: "Yes, it was after.' Whea get home, and thinking about it in the morning, "Why," said I, "what a fool." I

never

dreamed what he meant then. I

went to him and said to him, "I am willing to make a contribution and put this thing beyond a controversy." Well, he said something like this,- Tbat he thought it would be the best investment that I ever made in my life- I then went to a savings bank and put a mortgage of five thousand dollars on my housb. I took aeheck which was given me by the bank's lawyer end put it into the bank on Moulton's suggestion that it would be better than to have a check drawn to his order, I drew the money in $1,000 or $500 bills—I have forgotten which, but I know that they were large for I carried the roll i« my hand—and these I gave into his hands. From time to time he has spoken in the most glowing terms, and said that he was f—Jin«r it out to Theodore and he said that' at the time of the first install

ment he gave Theodore $500 once, and thai l« Sent with it a promissory not for Theodore to sign but that" did not sign it, and seat it back to him saying tbat he saw no prospect in the end of paying loans, and that he could not honor any therefore he accepted them and refused to sign any note aad Moul-

ton laughed significantly and said fcut Tilton subsequently took the moaey without giving any note.

Q. Did you receive any note of security, whatever, or evidence of debt from Moulton, or has there been any offer to return money to you.

A. Nothing of the kipd. It was never expected to be returned by either party.

Q. Has Moulton said anything to yoa about money in comparatively a recent period.

A. About the time of the publication of the Bowen letter I think I had been given to understsnd that Moulton had been offered $5,000 in .gold if he would not publish that letter, aad that at the then stage of affairs Moulton felt profoundly that Tilton could not come out with a disclosure of this matter without leaving Moulton in an awkward position, and that he offered $5,000 in gold if Tilton would not publish that letter. It led to some little conversation about the supply of money, and he said that 1 had belter give him my whole fortune rather than have Tilton go on ig his course.

Q. That you had better give your whole fortune to Tilton? A. Yes, rather than have Tilion go into the fight.

Q, Was that before or after the publication of the Bowen letter? A. I can't be certain about that. It was about that time.

Did Moulton ever question you in regard to this matter, whether you had eTer spoken to any one on the subject or expressed any anxiety in your mind about it? \. He did, many weeks ago, among he last interviews 1 had with him.

Q. Since the publication of that Bow en letter A. Yes, I think it was on Sabbath day, after the appointment of this committee, that I preached bift once on that day, in the evening,hesaw 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. I mentioned Oliver Johnson for one, because he was saying something to me one day about what

Home

A. Yes sir I did not keep the money an

hour. J.

at I never ts lis- I weak he Q.

of Tilton's friends were

saying, and 1 immediately mentioned that lo him, which he never repeated I suppo to anybody. Moulton said, I will never admit, but I shall deny, it always.

Q. Have you any objections to state what Tilton's friends were saying lo 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 h&d heard reprovals 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 being thrown of!" the track in life, and that I would not reinstate him. I replied in substance, that so far as reputation was concvrned 1 not only longed and tried to do what I could for Tilton, but that his association with Woodhull was fatal to him and could not make any headway against it and with regard to the other 1 said to him, that 1 had beeo willing to help him materially aud that recently, I paid $5,000 to him.

Q. Did you see and have a conversation with Tilton soon after the payment of $5,000?

A. On the Sunday morning following the payment of $5,000 as I was going to church in the morning, I met Tilton standing right opposite the house. He put his arm through mine and was in his most beautiful mood. While walking along down to charch he was telling all the way of grace, mercy and peace to me, nd all that time I recollect thinking that !5,ooo i« very mollifying.

By Mr. OUflin—Q. Did you at any time receive tb« note which the committee have in eviaena^u,follows: "H. W. B," grace, mercy and p«*», T. Tj, "Sunday morning."

A. Yes, he sent it on Sunday morning by his wife who had it laid on my pulpit stand.

By Mr. Cleveland—Q. If your mortgage was dated about May 1st, 1873, the money of course was paid to Moulton after your mortgage was made.

went wiih it directly from

the Mechanics' bank where I drew it and put it into Moulton's hands on the same day and within a few hours.

Q. At his house?

I do no* know, --rr-vv:

Q. Did you have trouble with Tilton during the "latter part of that month before the first of June 1873.

A. I do not know the months in which I have not had trouble with him but he made a special outburst at the end of the month of May, 1873, on account of the publication of a tripartite agreement which led to my letter to Moulton, June 1st, 1873.

Q, Here is a letter dated May 1st, 1874, in which Tilton refers te some story of Carpenter about your offering money. Did you receive that letter?

A. I did sir it was a magnificent humbug. I knew that Tilton knew that he had been tinkling my gold in hi* pockets for months and years and he wrote that letter to be published for a sham and mask.

Q. What did you understand by Carpenter's relation to the money matter? A. My first knowledge of Cju-penter was that he-wasputlinghis nose into this business which did not concern him. That was also Moulton's impression. I asked Moulton one day, "What under the sun is

Carpenter doing around here, and meddling with this matter?" He summarily d—d him, and represented him as a good natured busybody. I suggested why didn't he tell him that his presence wasnotwanted. He said,"

Q. Did yon say that if Tilton printed his documents you would never ascend that pulpit again.

never, talk about the thing with such a weak man as he. Q. Wbointrodnced the subject of going to Europe, when Carpenter come to see yoa.

A He ffldiQ. In the statement which you made and the lettersyoii have published, you express great agitation, sorrow and suffering even to anguish. How do you reconcile that With the tone of yeur public ministrations and with the declaretione.of peace aad trust, which have fallen from you from time to time in the lecture room, explain it precisely In the same way as I do the words of St. Pabl who said he died deaths daily that he was the offscouring of tbe earth, having the oare of all the churches and yet with all this burden on his miad he described himself as living in the most transcendent religious peace and joy that stands on record in human literature. Godly sorrow worketh joy. The first effect of these troubles to me was anguishable and depressing, and often times I lay in them even as a ship, heavier on sea in times of calm when she can make no progress and I cannot still. Bat after a little, came the reacU and by the power of the Holy Ghost mf mind was lifted above these things and I said to myself it is my business, as a man and minister, to live the doctrines I have en preaching. I have always been tel'.iitg people how to mj nage sorrow, telling men how to bear up under their troubles I determined that I would not flinch, whine, or sit down. I would stand up, and I did not.care how much the Lord piled on me. I believed he would not ui on me more than I could bear. If rose to it, and I took work wherever it offered, and I went through the work, and grew strong under it, and at intervals had experiences of peace, and of resignation,and of divinecomfort which I had never known before in all my life, and in retrospect of all this trouble I can say truly that I am better capable of interpreting the comfort of the word of God to a sorrowing heart that ever I should have been if I had not

fost

iassed through the discipline. I hav brothers I have lost many who have died and some who would not die yel, under all tliis, I have never been more sustained than 1 have in this.

Q. Notwithstanding your suffering during the last four years, do you feel that your health or power for labor are unimpaired?

A. I work because I likctoworlr. I worked because ray whole soul

?one

Well Jie serves

us in some useful purposes. When we hear of things going on in clubs or any place in New York we put Carpenter on th6 track and he fetches the rumors. Sometimes we use him to find out what we could not get otherwise." I did find that he not only did that, but that Carpenter was one of those of good nature, whose philanthropy exhibited itself in trying to settle quarrels and difficulties by picking up everything be could hear said for or against a man and carrrying it where it would do most harm. He was a kind of a genial good natured fool, and in all this matter he has been a tool more than a helper. He has never once done anything in the whole of this mat ter from beginning to end that wasn stupid blunder. I made up my from the beginning, that as I was to everybody in this matter, I would be especially silent to him, Carpenter. I recollect but one interview with him that had any particular significance. He came to see me once when tbe council was in session and our document was published. There was a phrase introduced into it, that Tilton had pointed out to hitn, and Tllton, that night, was in a bonfire flame and walked up and down the street with Moulton. I was in at F/eeland's, and in comes Carpenter with his dark mischievious eyes, and sat down on a sofa, and in a sepulchral whisper, told me of some matters says I, that is all nonsense, that it meant "and" and Carpenter was rejoiced to hear it, and then went out. On another instance he came to me and in a great glow of benevolence said there was to be a newspaper started in New York, and that I was to take the editorship of it, and a half million was to be raised almost as the tsp-of a drum. I was greatly amused, but said to him gravely, "Well, Carpenter it I should ever leave the pulpit I think it very likely I should go into journalism. It would be more natural to me than anything else." That was the amount of that conversation. One other conversation 1 have some recollection of in April, and that was when Moulton had a plan to buy the Golden Age of Tilton and send him to Europe, and Carpenter came jn and talked with me about it. 1 recollect very well that conversation. Mv -eyes were beginning to be enlightened, my education was beginning to tell on me, aud I said to Sir. Carpenter distinctly "Mr Carpenter, that is a matter which I can have nothing to do with. I don't know but that if Tilton wishes to go to Bu* rope with his family, and live there for sometime, that his friends would be willing to raise the amount of money, but that is a matter vou must talk about with some one else.

A. I never said that, and I should

through tbls great year of sorrow would not have believed tbat any one could have passed through my experience and be alive or sane. I nave been the oenterof three distinct circles, each of whloh required olear mindedness and peculiarly inventive or originating power, vl»: flr tbe great church second, tbe newspaper third, the book. The first 1 could neither get out of nor slight. The sensitiveness of so many of my people would have made an appearance of trouble or any remission of foroo an occasion of alarm and notice, and would bave excited where it was Important that the rumors should die ana everything be quieted. Tbe second I dia roll off, doing but little except to give general directions and in so doing I was continually spurred and exhorted by those in interest. The Life of Christ, long delayed, had locked up the capital of tbe firm, and was lkely to sink them. Finished it must be. Was ever book born of such sorrow? The interior history of It will never be written. During all this time you were literally all my stay and comfort. I should have fallon by the way, but for the courage you inspired and the hope whioh vou breathed my vacation was profitable. I came back hoping that the bitterness of death was passed, but its troubles brought back a cloud with even severer sufferings for all tbis fall and winter. I bave felt you did not feel satisfied with me, and that I seemed both to you and Tilton as contending myself wltb a cautious or slugglsb policy, willing to save my self, but not to risk anything for T. I bave again and again probed my heart to see whether I was truly liable to snoh feelings, and the response is unequivocal tbat I am not. No man can see the difficulties that environs, unless he Btands where I do. You say that I bave. A church on my bands is simple enough, but to have tbe hundreds and thousands of men pressing me, each one with bis keen anxiety to see tendencies which, if not stopped, would break all out into a ruinous defense of me. To stop them with out seeming to do it to prevent any one questioning me, to meet and de lay and allay prejudices against whioh had their beginning 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 to come up fresh and full for Sunday. All this may be talked about but tbe real thing cannot be understood from the oatslde, nor its grinding and wearing on tbe nervons system. God knows tbat I bave put more thought and judgment and earnest desire in my efforts to prepare a way for T. and E. than I ever aid for myself, an hundred fold. As to outside public, I bave never lost an opportunity to soften prejudices to rotate falsehoods, and to excltejaklndly leeling among all whom I met. am thrown among clergymen, public men, and generally the makers of public opinion, and I have used every endeaver to repair the evils which bave been visited upon me, with increasing success, but the roots of tbis prejudice are long. The catastrophe which precipitated him from his place only disclosed feelings that had existed long. Neither he nor you oan be aware of the feelings of the classes In surety on other grounds than rumors. I mention this to explain why I know, with absolute certainty, that no mere statement, letter, testimony or affirmation will reach the root of affairs and reinstate them. Time and work will, but the ohronio evils of my destruction would place him all rights Tbat shall not stand in the way I am willing to step down and out no one can offer more than that tbat

I do offer sacrifice me without heel tation II yoa can dearly see your way to his happiness and safety thereby. I do not think tbat

.'Eli's

was

say

ing to me, "Go forward and preach." I never measured the sliodow of my life, or that I was higher or lower than other Christian ministers, to be callcd the first preacher in America or the world, is only throwing a shadow at m«v I have but one feeling about this, s: t. that is just as long as I live, every particle of strength and imagination and feeling and rrason and body and soul I give to my country and to my kind, and that is all the ambition I have, never had better health than I have to-dny. I

think the machiueiy is not worn ontyc .. and I do not pioposeto be idle. I clirM i* a^ain what I did in the baginning of my life. I shall not nnybody for permission to work, and I shall not ask anybody to work. The channels I may work in may flow here or there, bift 1 propose to work fifteen years yet.

Letters.

MONDAY, Feb. 6, 1872.

MY DRAU FRIEND.*—I leave town to-day aud expect to pass through from Philadelphia ta New Haven, shall not be here until Friday. About three weeks ago I met T. in tbe oars going to Brooklyn lie was kind, and we talked much. He told me to go oil with my work without the least anxiety, insofar as his feelings and actlona were the occasion of apprehension. On returning home from New Haven, where I am three days in the week delivering a course of lectures to the theological students, I found a note from E. saying that T. felt hard toward me, or was going to see or write me before leaving for the West. She kindly added, "Bo not cast down-" I bear this almost always, but the God in whom we trust will deliver us all

s!^

know you do and are willing

abundantTy-*t~ke]p bim, and I also know your ments. There were added these woro»,o/ warnin but also of consolation, for is beloved of God, and that her prays4 for mo are sooner beard bhan mine for myself, or lor her, but It seems that a change has come to T, since I saw him In tbe oars. Indeed, even since he has felt more intensely the force of tbe feeling in soolety, and tbe humiliations whloh environ his enterprise, he hei glowingly felt that I had a power to help, which I did not develope. and I believe you participated In this feeling. It is natural you should. T. isdc. ier to you than I can be. He is with yon his trials lie open to your eye batJsee you but seldom, ana my personal relations, environments, necessities, limitations, dangers and perplexities, you cannot see nor imagine. It I 1 not

be saved E. and the children would have their future clouded In one point of view: I could deeire tbe sacrifice on my part nothing oaa possibly be so bad as the gUroot and toe great darkness in which I spend much of my time I look upon death as sweeterfttced than any friend 1 have In the world wonhl TO pleasant If 1- oould see tbat re-built, which is shattered, hut to live ou the sharp and jagged edge of anxiety, remorse, fear, despair and yat* tj pot on alt tbe appearances of serenity and happiness, cannot be endured iruch longer. I am well nigh discouraged, if. you,. too, cesMO to trust me, to love me, I am alone. I have not another person to wbom I could go. Wei), to

God I oomtftU all what

ever it may be here it shall be welthere. With siucere gratitude for your heroic friendship and with sincere affection, eSren though you love mo not, I am youis though unknown to you. H. W. H.

Tbe letter of Mrs. Tilton, which

tlclpate my western trip, when I may be alone wlth-bim exclusively." I now come in my narrative to give an account of the origin of the somewhat fsmous tripartite agreement. Shortly after the foregoing letter was written Mr. Tilton returned to this city, thoroughly discouraged with the result of his lectnring tou r. The Golden Age, which had been established about twelve months, had not succeeded and was understood to be losing money, nuv^ His pecuniary obligations were pressfrieniS Ing, andAllhwigh

bore partly quoted, is as follows: "TtTKSDAY. "I leave for the West on Monday next. How glad I was to learn that you were your own self." "Sunday MoBBilNh. "Theodore's mind has been hard toward you of late. I think he proposes an interview with you by word or note before leaving home. If so, be not cast down. I bear this almosc.always. bu. tbe God In whom wo trust will deliver us all safely. I know you do, and are willing abundantly to help him, and I also know your embarassment. I an-

HIS CLAIM AGAINST BOWEN.

for vlolatlon of his two contracts had the year previously been under ihe contract of Moulton with a view of settlement, It had not yet been ef fee ted. About tills time Moulton, who was sick, sent for me and showed me a galley proof 6f an artiole prepared by Tilton for the Golden Age, aud whioh has (duce been published In the Brooklyn papers, iu which he embodied a copy or a letter written by him to Bowen, dated Jan. 1,1871, In wbloh he charged Bowen with making scandalous accusations was the first time I had seen the charges, and I hail never heard of them except by mere rumor, Mr. Bowen never saying at any time a word to me on the subject. I was amazed at the proposed publication. I didn't thrill understand the real object of giving circulation to such slanders. My first Impression was that Tilton designed, undercover of an attack on me ill the home of another, to open a way for the publication of his own pretended personal grievances. I protested against the publication In the strongest torms, but was assured that it was not Intended as a hostile act to myself but to Bowen. I did not any the less Insist on my protest against this publication. Oil its being own to Mr. Bowen, ho was ularmed,

iga ilic nnd speedily consented to the appoint ment of arbitrator* to bring about an amiclablo settlement. Tho result of this proceeding was that Bowen paid Tilton over |7,000, and a written agreement was entered into by Bowen and Tilton and myself of amnesty, conoord and future peace. It was agreed that the offensive article, the publication of wbiah produces such an affect on Mr. Bowen, and secured a happy settlement, Hbould bo destroyed without seeing the light. It was ah act of treachery peculiarly base. But this article was permitted to get into hands which would Insure itH publication, and It was published. I was assured that ever vestigo of it had been uetroyed, nor until a comparatively reoent period did I understand how Mr. Tilton seoured its publication without seeming to be himself rest onslble for the deed. Finally after attempting to ok aln money, both from myself and wife, as theprloeof Its suppression, ••he, Woodhull women published tboir ""goof the Tllton scandal t* Novembei?%»u7o ijh0

details given by

these were sciiSh*^ (bough distorted, tbat suspicion was UBW^aiip directed towards Mr. Tllton of ™^«j»al author of this, wblob he JU8"y

A WICKED AND SCANDAL

thnnirh it Is

1"rhlt

®or« horrible

than^hs* which be has now fathered, and half so wloked, because those Abandoned women did not bave a personal knowledge of tho falsity of their story as Mr. Tilton has of hts. To rid himself of this incubus Mr. Tilton drew up a volumnious paper, called a true statement, but which was famllliarly called Tilton's case. I had Bome knowledge of ItB composition, having heard much of it read, but some documents were only referred to as on file, and others bad not yet beon manufactured. Tilton's fover for compiling statements was one of my familiar annoyances. Moulton used to tell me that tbe ouly way to manage Theodore was to let blm work off bis periodical passion on some such document, and then pounce on the doeament and suppress it. This particular true statement was a special plea of abatement of tbe prejudices excited by his Woodhull partnership. It was a rauddlo of garbled statements, manufactured documents and falsehoods. This paper he read to many, and I am told that he read It to not less than fifty persons, In wbloh be did not pretend to charge Immorality upon bis wife. On the contrary, he explicitly denied it and assorted her parity, but charged me with improper overtures to her. It was this paper which be read to Storrs aud poisoned bis mind with it, thus leading to an attempt to prosecute Tilton in Plymouth Church, the interference of neighboring churches, and the calling of tho Congregational council. After the Woodhull story was published, and while Tllton seemed desirous, for a shoit time, of protecting bis wife, I sent through him the following letter to ber: [Here Is given tbe letter published in the Sentinel of August 3.] The whole series of events beginning wltb the outbreak of the Woodhull story, repeatedly brought me a terrible accumulation of anxieties and perils. Everything that had threatened before now started again with new violence. Tllton's behavior was at onoe inexplicable and unacoountable. His card to a complaining friend did not produce tbe effect he pretended to expect from it, of convincing the public of his great magnanimity. Then his infamous article and letter to Brown made its appearance in the Eagle. It had been suggested that tbe publication of tbo tripartite covenant would bave a good effect, by contradicting tbe slanderous stories about Mrs. Tilton and myself, which Theodore professed to regard, but which his foolish card and the publication of that article had done so much to revive and render mlschievous. Mr. Moulton urged me to get from the gentlemen who held the tripartite covenant a copy of it for us, when suddenly Mr. Wilkinson came out with, on bis own responsibility, its publication. In this manner I made strenuous but unavailing efforts to pre-

He bad originally kept a copy

vent it. of it. Everybody seems to bave

matter,

In this business

COPIES OF EVERYTHING

but myself. On tbe appearance of that paper Theodore went Into a rage.

declaring tbat

put him, he said, In a false position before tbe public, and be said he would publish another card Riving a statement something like what he wrote to Dr. Baeon. Tbat Is, as

recollect tbe

bad committed

an offense, and that be bad been the magnanimons party in tbe business. It was necessary to decide what to do to calm bim. Mr. Moulton strangely urged a card from me exonerating Theodore, as

oould honestly do, from the

authorship of the particular scandals detailed in his article to Mr. Bowen. and alluded to in the covenant.

said

would look It over and perhaps write something. This was Frldav or Saturday. The covenant appeared on Friday morning, and the alarm was sounded on me Immediately that Theodore would do something dreadful if not restrained. On Sunday

had made up

my mirid to write Mr. Moulton the following letter.garbledextracts of which are given in

Tilton's statement.

$ ,, mwoOTB to mmt/roN.

8vtrD*.T

Mousing,

June 1,1873.

DkabFkank:

The whole earth

is tranquil and tbe heaven is serene. As befits one who has about finished this world's life I could do nothing on Saturday. My head was confined, bat a good sleep has made it like crystal. I have determined to make no more

resistance. Theodore's temper Is such I that the future, even if temporarily earned, would oe absolutely worthless, filled with abrupt charges and rendering nte liable at any hour or day to be obliged to Stultify all the devices by wblob we saved ourselves. It is only felr that he should know that the pub- \,,, lication of the card wbloh he proposed *, would leave me far worse off than be- ...j tore. Tho agreement was made after my letter through you was written. He bad had it a year. He had condoned his wife's fault. He bad enjoined upon us wltb 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 his Settlement was made and signed by him It was uot my making. Ho revised his part, so that I should wholly suit him, and signed It. It stood unquestioned for more than a year. Then It was published. Nothing but that which he did in private, when made publio, excited him to fury, and be 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 ho charges a grevous wrohg home on mo. My mind is slear. I am not in haste. I shall write for the publio a statemont that will bear the light of the judgment day. God will take care for me and mine. When I look on tbe earth it is deop night. When I look on the heavens abovo I see the morning breaking. But ob, that I oould pnt In golden letters my deep senao of your faithful, earnest

iv?

UNDYING FIDBIJTY, .»!»

your disinterested friendship. Your whole life, too, has been one of God's comforters. It is such as she that renews a waning faith in womanhood. Now, Frank, I would not have yoa waste any more energy ou a hopeless tusk with such a man as Tilton. There is no possible salvation for any that depend npon him. With a strong nature, be does not know how to govern it with generous impulses. The under current that rules hiui is self. WHh ardent affections, he oan not love long that which does not repay out with admiration aud praise. With a strong theatrlo nature, ho la constantly imposed upon with tbo Idea that a posltion, a great stroke, a coup de etat Is tho way f..» suaoess. Besides these be has a hundred good things about biro. But these named traits mako him absolutely unreliable. Therefore there Is no uso In further trying. I have a strong feelltig- upou me, and It brings great peace with H, that I am spending my last Sunday and preaching my last sermon. Dear, good God, 1 thank Thee that I'am Indeed beginning lo rest and triumph. The path of life Is but a moment. Tbe glory of the everlasting emancipation Is wordless, Inconceivable, full of breaking glory. Oh, my htdoved Frank, I shall know you then! and forever hold fellowship with yon, ami look back and smile at the past. s, II. W. B.

There are Intimations at the begin-"' ning ami end of the letter that I felt the approach of death. With regard to that, I merely refer to my previous statement concerning my bodily symptoms, and add, that on this day 1 felt the symptoms upon me. The main point Is that I was worried out with the whole business, and would have been glad to escape by deaMi. of which I have little dread. I coulu see no end but death to the accumulation of torture, but I resolved to stop short and waste no more time itr making matters worse. 1' felt that Mr. Moulton had better stop too umf

let the wbole thing come out. I determinod then to make a true and full statement, which I now makeand leave tho result with God. Mr.' Tiltou had repeatedly urged me, as

,i!

stated lu my letter, not to betray hi* wife, and I t«it bound by every sem« of houor, in case I should be pressed1'* by inquiries from my oburch or ily, as to the foundation of thsr

rumors-whloh might reaoh them, to keep this promise. By this promise I meant only that I would ndt betray the excessive affection whfrth bis wife, aa I bad been told, kadoon-*'*' ceived for me, and had ooifeaeed to him. I certainly did not refer to' adultery. If there had been suJh a fact in existence Its

llll'"t""

-to

-,h

BBTRAYAjr* WOULD HAVB RUTNKD HM, as well as ber, and a pledge not to de- ,:s stroy myself would have been too al surd to be meutloned in this letter. In reply to this note, which was calm and A rMerred, rather than glowing, Moulton wrote tbe same day a letter of three and a half sheets of oopy paper, in* which be deliberately,and twice in suo- ,,} cession, re-affirmed hU main state-' ment, tbat mere was nothing l& tb®!' whole oase upon whloh 1 oould nofrf •-1 safely stand. He treats tny resolution,, t%jHra of suoh morbid despair as he rKed*m3fod£R[oached

for. a«d

InLm. my faith slons, and graclousljirfKte^P?^*^ to be soothed by the publreoer card exhonoratlng him froi authorship of the base lies tf which the tripartite covenant referred. So onoe more, and this time against my oalmer Judgment, I patched up a hollo# peace with blm. That I have grievlously erred in my Judgment with this perplexed case, no one ie more consoious than I am. I chose tbe wrong path, and aocept*' ed a disastrous guidance in tbe oe*' ginning, and have Indeed traveled on a rough and ragged edge in my prolonged effort to suppress this scandal, which has at last spread much desolation throughout the land. Bafe I can not admit that I erred in desiring to keep these matters out of sight. In tnls respeot I appeal to you and to all Christian men to judge whether a sacrifice oughtnot to have been made rather than to suffer tbe morals of the entire community, and especially of the young, to be corrunpted by the filthy details of scandalous falsehoods dally amplified for the gratification of impure curiosity, and tbe demoralization of every cnild tbat is old enough to read. The full truth of this history requires that one mere fact should be told, and especially as Mr. Tilton has invited it. Money has been obtained from me in tbe course of these affairs in considerable sums, but I did not at first look upon tbe suggestions, that I should contribute to Mr. Tllton's pecuniary wants as savoring of blackmail. This did not occur to me until I had paid perhaps |2,000 afterwards I contributed at one time 96,000. After tbe money bad been paid over In five one thousand hills, to raise which I mortgaged my house I live In, I felt very mnch unsatisfied with myBelfabont it. Finally a square demand and threat was made to me by my confidential friends tbat if 9&i000 more were not paid Tilton's charges would be laid before the public. This I saw at once was blackmail in its boldest form, and I never paid a cent of it, but challenged and requested tbe fullest exposure. But after the summer of 1873 I became Inwardly satisfied that Tilton was inherently and Inevitably a ruined man. I no longer trusted either bis word or his honor. I came to feel that fU I

HIH KINDNESS WAS BUT A 8NARK, and bis professions ol friendship treacherous. He did not mean well by me, nor by his own household. But I sufiered all tbe more on tbis account as he bad grown up under my infiuenc and in my church. I could never free myself from a certain degree of responsibility for his misdoings, such as visits a father for a wrong-doing son and

IHtimesof

great mental depression

this feeling sometimes amounted almost to a mania. Mr. Beecher here details his efforts to prevent tbe soandal boing made public, which was threatened on the trial of Tilton by tbe church, and says of Tilton:

I was so determined to carry out my pledges to Moulton for hlin and do all in human power to save blm even from himself, tbat I was ready to resign if that would stop the scandal. I wrote a letter of resignation, not referring to the charges against me, but declaring that I bad striven for years to maintain secrecy concerning a scandal affecting a family in the cborcb. Tbat as I had failed, I herewith resign. Tbis letter was never sent. A little. calmer thought showed to me bow futile It would be to Btop the trouble, if I oould. At tbis moment I do not remember any of the other letters wbloh I bave written Moulton? If he has reserved all my eflusions of feeling, he must bave a large collection. I bave no fear of their full and fair publication, for though tbey would doubtless make a sad exposure of my weakness, grief and despondency, tbey do not contain a line confessing soon guilt as has been charged upon me, or a word inconsistent with my innocence, nor any other spirit than thai of a generons remorse over a great and more and more irreparable evil. Bat, however Intense ana numerous may be these expressions of grief, they cannot possibly ever state the anxiety which constantly felt for the future, the perils

{OoiteMUd on first page.)