THE CASE
OF
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
OPENING ADDRESS
BY
BENtJAMIN Th,-TEACY
Of Co7-,nrsel for the -Def endamt.
NEW YORK:
GEORGE W. SMITH & COMPANY,
LAW  PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS, 95 NASSAU STREET.
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PRESS OF WYNKOOP &:HALLENBECK,
113 Fulton Street, N. Y.
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OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
the defendant from his representative character.
Notthat I would endorse the remarkable
statement of the plaintiff's counsel in his openin g, that" upon the result of your verdict, to
a very large extent, will depend the integrity
of the Christian religion."  God forbid that
the integrity of the Christian religion should
depend upon the character or the fortunes of
any man, however learned, eloquent or devout.  The Christian religion is founded upon
the eternal rock of God's nature and God's decree.  It is from everlasting to everlasting;
and will abide when the remotest records of
future history shall have faded from the annals of time, and the heavens "shall have
been rolled together as a scroll."   My client
expects no other support from the Christian
religion than such as may be found in its
promises. He takes his stand here alone
upon his own integrity, sustained only by
God and the justice of his cause. And yet,
gentlemen, I repeat, you cannot consider him
altogether without reference to that sacred
faith of which he has been for a long time
one of the most honored ministers, which
would acquire lustre in his vindication, and
which could not but be deeply wounded in
his fall.
Mr. TRACY-MAY IT PLEASE THE CORRT,
:GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY:  The time having
arrived whe     n  th e defendant is pe rmitte             d to be
he ard in his own behalf, my  associates have
assigned to m      e  the duty                 of stating  his case to
this Honorable Court and to you. I am sure,
gentlemen,             when you consider  for whom and
in whose presence I speak, you will believe
that  it   is for me an  occasion of great personal
embarrassment. When I think of the interests                                 involved in this trial  and the effects which
may follow it, when I contemplate the deep
and painful anxiety which it everywhere excites, I am  oppressed  by the                   burde        n of responsibility which t he o ver-kindness of  my a ssociates has laid upon me, and would gladly
surrender it to othe r and a bler ha nds. Nothing,  ind eed,  pre vents me from sinking beneath the task I have                                sundertaken, but a clear
conviction    of the  absol ute inno cence        of        m       y
client, and       the assu rance  of my emaent associat         es         tha t his case is too strong to be injured by my unskillful advocacy. And moreover, I am             assur ed by     the knowledge that
comes to me from ev      ery quar   t    er, th      at, in my
effort to m     ak  e        hi s    innocence as plain to you
and to                       the world as  it has long  been to his
counsel and      his people, I have the universal
,         sym pathy of   mankind.
T    he ma gnitude     and   importa nce  of   the questions     here involved, ca nnot be over-estimated,
for they go down                     to the very foundations of
our social, moral, and religious life. If the
effect of your dec      ision in  thi s case could be
limited to            determining whe ther the plaintiff
ha         s s uffe r      ed  a wrong at       the hands of the def    endan t, f or         which he is entitled to be compensated in money, this    tria l wo uld not excit e
the wide-spread interest       which  has      attached
to it from     the b eg   i         nning, and which must follow it to the  end.  But, gentlemen, I need
not remind you how utterly impossible it is
to circumscribe the effect of this trial within
such narrow limits. Either this defendant is
to go forth from this court room vindicated
by your verdict, or you and I and all who
,take part in this day's work are actors in one
of the greatest moral tragedies which has
ever occupied the stage of human life. Look
at it as we may, it is impossible to separate
The  son of one of the    mo st e mine nt  clergymen of the last generation, a member of a
large family of which all the men are clergymen and all the women authors of reputeda
family, let me say, gentlemen, on whose fair
fame the shadow of reproach has never rested
hithelto-the defendant early devoted himself to the self-denying pursuit of a minister
of the Gospel.  For it was no bed of roses in
a luxurious abode that he spread for himself;
he made no use of a dominant family influence to secure the refinements and privileges
of a wealthy city parish. He struck boldly
out into the wilds and hardships of the far
West. He rode the rough circuit of a homemissionary life. With his own hands he
made the fires, swept the floors and rang the
bell in his forest church; with his own hands,
assisted only by the faithful wife who stood
by him then, and who-to the honor of
womanhood-stands by him to-day, he ministered to the necessities of his forest home,
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WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1875.
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HENRY WARD BEECHFA 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
When the thunders of his manly eloquence
had reached even this distant coast, and the
imperative demand of the church had summoned him to a wider sphere of action, he
left neither his simplicity nor his independence behind.  He has been the same genuine, true-hearted, unaffected man here that
he was in the West.  In the midst of all the
refinements and luxuries of city life, his
motto has been that of the great apostle he
so much resembles,  "I know how  to be
abased, and I know how to abound."  To
some who, in the early days, when he was
less known than now, undertook to control
his utterances by threatening loss of place, he
made this memorable reply: "You may unseat me, but you cannot control me.  I camne
from the woods, and I can go back to the
woods again."
This man, so introduced to us, has wrought
and taught for near thirty years in our midst.
He is no longer a stranger, and no longer a
new acquaintance. Genial and unassuming
in his manners; inspiring in his speech as new
wine; accessible to all, from the gravest citizen to the humblest child,-the life he has
lived before u   s     has   been  as warm and  fruitfu l
as God's summer, as open and beneficent as
His day.
No truth struggling with error has ever
failed to find in him a champion; no phase
of human sorrow has sought him in vain for
sympathy and relief. Nay, as we have too
much reason to know, the very excess of his
sensibility has at times become to him an element of weakness, and left him for the moment at the mercy of colder and harder men.
And, if this is a fair picture of his private
and domestic life, what shall be said of his
life and influence as a preacher of the Gospel? Let the immense assemblies that for
nearly  thirty  years-without  abatement,
without fluctuation-have thronged his chapel, more ilunuerous and enthusiastic to-day
than ever before, bear testimony. To this
great congregation, presenting an unusual
proportion of able and thoughtful men, he
has ministered all these years untiringly.
That his ministrations have been marked by
a rare spirituality, and a wonderful mastery
over the various motives of human character
and moods of human experience, is universally acknowledged. He has been empathically
a preacher of the people. Living himself in
constant communion with the unseen, he has
interpreted the mysteries of the soul and
given voice to those dim intuitions-those immortail yearnings-which spring up in every
human breast, but which so few can ever utter. A clergyman of the Congregational
Church, he has labored for the aggrandize ment of no sect, for the building up of no de no-nination. His creed is as broad as humanity itself; and his deep, warm heart, inlstinct ively responding to the feeling of add, has en
abled him to summon the race ton a higher,
nobler, and  purer life.  Though a  Protestant,
he  has  ever  been able to discern the c ommon
Christian    faith  in all churche s be aring the
Christian name.   Moral integrity, sin ce re  devotion, and an earnest c o nsecration   to the
common Lord, have  always been  recognized
by him,  without referen c e to the question of
his  own rec ognition  by those  to whom his
charity  has e xtended. Every honest     soul
t hat labo red for th e salvat io n an d e lev ation
of  mankind, whether minister, pr   iest or
monk, or onl  y self-sacrificing   layman, has
been to  him a Christian brother, a   minister
of  God. It is then  no wonder that,   besides
the power   of his person al te aching, the demand  for his printed s ermo ns shou ld be beyond  all precedent. Their weekly is s ue is
read in  every t own and hamlet throughout
this broad land;aem e  th   i  the y a re met wi thin the
cab in of the backwo odsm an, in th e ar  i the hut of the
miner, in the forecastle at sea.  Not only
this,  but they ha ve been translated into every
European lan guage. hI  England alone, as I
am informed, their  circulation  is th rice a s
large ast h t i that in all this c ou ntry.
Thus  has  he-alone  -almost fulfilled the
divine command, "I Go ye in to   all the  world
and  p reach the Gospel to every creature."   I
estimate the  full for ce  of my words when  I
affirm that no man ever exerted in his own
lifetime so wide-spread a n d  beneficent  an in fluence. The far-reaching and abiding pow —
er of th is Chri stian minis-ter, has l ong been a
marvel to the  people o f tw o continents, and
theorie s  both friendly and hostile ha ve been
advan c ed to explain  it.  Gentlemen, shall I
solve the   pro bl e m for you? The    reason o f
the power of this man's preaching is, that
behind his s ermons there i s a  ife-and be hind the life, a MAN. It is because they have:
come  from the heart,  that they have gon e  to
the heart.  It is beca use hi s preaching is known
by those  who know hi m  best   to  be illustrated
by his daily living,   that he is, in thi s su preme emergency of his life, girded by mil lions of faithful hearts and walled to heaven
by the unfaltering love and confidence of
his people.
But if there are those who are not interested
in the minister of the Gospel, I invite them
to contemplate the patriot and philanthropist.
Espousing the cause of the oppressed, he labor ed for the emancipation of a race. When the
agitation resulted in a conflict of arms, im periling the Union of the States, his clarion
voice was heard everywhere arousing the na tion to the holy strife. When danger threatened
from abroad, he was prompt to plead the cause
of I IAmerican union on the basis of American
liberty" in the face of infuriated thousands
set on by a foreign aristocracy to revile him
and to strike him down. Mr. Beecher's hand to-hand fight with the English masses on
English soil, is a thrilling page in history,
2 
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
known and read of all men.  His courage, his
devotion, his eloquence, in that memorable
contest, won the admiration of all Europe and
can never be forgotten by the American peo  ple.  In that struggle, Henry Ward Beecher
won the nation's gratitude and the nation's
love.  When the fury of the storm had spent
its force, when the war was over, and the na  tion was saved-then the voice which had rung
like a trumpet in the strife was the first to
plead for forbearance to the vanquished, for a
generous condonation of the past, and a per manent peace resting upon universal amnesty.
This, gentlemen, is a true and unflattered por trait of the defendant in this case-as a hus band, a father, a citizen, a patriot, a philan thropist, a minister, and a man.  If it were a
statement to be established by testimony,
thousands upon thousands of witnesses might
crowd this Court to confirm its truth; for the
name of Henry Ward Beecher has long been 
the treasure of the nation, as it has been the
special pride and glory of this city, famous
throughout the world as the scene of his life
and labors.
One of the most striking characteristics of
the man I have been describing was a profound
and ever-active interest in young men.  The
first work he ever published, a work which
won him an enviable reputation while he was
himself yet a young man, and which is still
disseminated by thousands in this and other
lands, was his "Lectures to Young  Men."
When, therefore, in his earlier Brooklyn ministry, he encountered a young man of unusual
promise, it was like him to receive the youth
into his" heart of heart" and to lavish upon
him that affection, that expenditure of time,
and  that wealth of intimate intercourse,
which not a few men of the highest culturehad
desired in vain. For thatprivilegedintimacy,
and for that affectionate devotion, this prosecution is the grateful reward.  The heart in
which that generous sowing brought  forth
only the deadly nightshade of envy and hate
was the heart of the plaintiff in this suit.
and an honorable pride.  Be gin ning life a s a
reporter on the public press, he w as br ought
into contact wi th great orators and public men
and he early resolved to devote himself to a
public career. All his studies turned upon this
point-to make himself a    gracefu l  tnid   power  ful speaker and writer. The art of appearing
well and sounding well was the  a rt he sought
-a dangerous pursuit for one already strongly
predisposed by  constitutio nal     vanity to con  s i de r life a   drama and himself its  hero.  He
began, with  unbounded confidence and  cool,
calculating pertinacity, to wo rk his way up  ward. Possessed of a fine address, a lively
imagination, fertile  fanc y a nd flowing spee ch,
he lacked the powers of deep and origi n   al
thought, and, more than these, sound sense,
discriminating jsldiment and the u    nselfish
aims which  are th e prime e le ments of a  noble
ma nhood. Anxious abo ve all t hings to shine,
he seized  every opportunity and advocated
every cause which would give him promi.
nence.  He adopte d the ideas of leading men
of the country, Sumner, Phillips, Garrison,
and, more than a  ny othe r, o f Mr. Beecher,
wh o, as we have seen, was lavi  sh of  fri end -
ship and aid —and reproduced them in sen sational editorials and le ctures.   The e  x tremists in politics and religion to  whom he
joined himself, were ready to reward the fa cility with which he yielded himself to their
uses by fostering his conceit; representing
him as the successful antagonist of Mr.
Beecher-the young David who had over thrown the great Goliah in debate, and the
brilliant occupant of the editorial chair of The
Independent, -ho bad eclipsed the light of
his predecessor.
He fell in with gay, fascinating people,
who considered themselves free from the con ventional restraints of society; and, little by
littie, he slid into their ways of thinking.
His unbalanced vanity was not proof against
the wine of dangerous theories, when present ed by the hand of the flatterer.   Surrounded
only by those who burned incense to his
vanity, he became inflated with success, and
fancied himself a monumental genius, a prolific source of wit and wisdom-in a word,
the foremost man of his time. Conspicuously
destitute alike of logical'power and the poise
of a nice moral sense, he embraced the wildest views and rushed forward, believing that
the world would follow where he led. Some
persons of cool heads can speculate on social,
political, or religious questions without losing
their balance; but, with Theodore Tilton, to
calculate the depths of an abyss was to plunge
headlong into it. A believer in the Christian
faith and a member of an orthodox church,
he speculated on the origin of matter and the
attributes of God until he became a deist,
denying the divinity of Christ, and rejecting
the Scriptures as a Divine revelation of God's
will to man. The husband of a gifted, pure,
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THEODORE NLTON.
It now becomes my unpleasant duty to invite you, gentlemen, to consider for a moment
who and what is Theodore Tilton. The plaintiff in this case presents the most impressive
instance that has ever come within my obser-vation, of the remorseless power and the destructive effect of a single absorbing master
passion. An all-dominating, selfish egotism
is the basis of his character. As a boy, he
was bright and ambitious, and his quickness
of apprehension and felicity of statement
brou,ht him early recognition and praise.
Everbody flattered and encouraged him, regarding his self-conceit as something which
mature years and the bard experience of life
would modify into a reasonable self-reliance 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
and loving wife-the father of an interesting
family, having, as he describes it, an "ideal
home," he speculated on social problems, and
was led by the malign influence under which
he fell, to denounce the marriage relation as
a remnant of effete civilization-a clog and
hindrance to the development of the race.
His remedy for the evils of marriage was easy
divorce, leaving parties as free to dissolve the
relation as they were to enter into it. He denies
that he is a free lover, but Victoria Woodhull, the apostle of free love, asks for no
greater social freedom than this.  A leader of
men must know how to construct and to
preserve, but Theodore Tilton knew only how
to unsettle and destroy.  The moment he assumed a position of such prominence that he |
could be studied and criticised, the glaring
defects of his character discovered themselves
to those who had hitherto been his dupes.
Opposition sprang up in every quarter, and at
last he was forced to realize that the foundation which had been reared for him, and on
which he had been placed by others more than
by himself, was crumbling beneath his feet.
The end was near.  Theodore Tilton fellfell from an eminence seldom attained by
men of his age-to the very bottom of the
abyss, the depths of which he had attempted
to sound.
From that abyss, he beheld afar off the man
who had been his early friend and patron, but
whom he had long regarded as his rival and
inferior, standing firm and erect, his influence
widening and deepening, and his hold on
public favor becoming more and more permanent and secure.  A man fed by inordinate vanity can never awake to a sane, reasonable estimate of himself.  Failure and disappointment never lead such a man to selfexamination, but  excite  within him only
bitterness, rage and malice.  With him, it is
never his own  folly and impotence  that
have  impeded   his  advance,   but  some
malevolent power has interfered.   In the
blindness of his  rage,  Theodore  Tilton
persuaded  himself that the sole and efficient cause of his overthrow was Beecher;
that the one man who had prevented him
from reaching the topmost summit of fame
was Beecher.  But one resource was left to
him.  If he had not power to rebuild, he
still had power  to destroy, and  Beecher
should feel that power.  To be eclipsed and
neglected was gall and wormwood to his soul.
If he could not be famous, he could at least
be infamous; and he preferred infamy to ob livion. Mr. Beecher had long been his friend,
and the intimate friend of his wife.  That
friendship he could pervert, and make himself I
the author, and at the same time the central
figure, of the most famous scandal of modern
times. IIf he could not supplant Beecherin the
affection of the people, he could scandalize
him. If he had made it impossible for any
honorable pen to write his own biography,
then was it worth any cost to have a
line devoted to him in the biography
of Henry Ward Beecher. His natural bent
towards plots and conspiracies now fully revealed itself, and Beecher was the object
of his schemes. His grand genius for attitudinizing-for Tilton is nothing if not dramatic-began to be displayed.  As in a play,
everything was arranged with a view to
effect. Facts were nothing to him, except as
they could be adroitly used to serve the purpose of his pageant. Friends, wife, children,
and all that other men hold sacred and dear,
must be trampled down and walked over to
reach the notice and applause for which he
has shown himself willing to barter his immortal soul. Pure women might abhor and
shun him, but one pure woman at least should
go to her grave, bearing witness to his power
in a blasted life and a broken heart.  Here.
gentlemen, here speaks the " master passion"
of this perverted man. At this very moment, if
he could realize the sad truth that he is morally
dead, he would still rejoice in this post mortem
investigation of his character. The decaying
corpse would rather be dissected than buried;
but we propose, gentlemen, to dissect him
first in the interest of truth, and to bury him
afterwards in the interest of decency.
Such, gentlemen, is the plaintiff in this
cause. A staunch new vessel, launched upon
an honorable voyage, sailing with prosperous
winds over unruffled seas, has been transformed into a pirate by the wickedness of her
commander, and wrecked by his folly, and
now lies a stranded and battered hulk, the
object at once of the curiosity and abhorrence
of mankind.
And now, gentlemen, with this imperfect
preliminary sketch of the two leading characters in what we shall show you is the most re markable conspiracy of modern times, perhaps
you will be better prepared to comprehend the
" strange, eventful" history which I proceed
to lay before you.  In 1847, Mr. Beecher re moved from Indianapolis and settled in
Brooklyn.   His success as a preacher was al ready established, and he immediately took
rank among the foremost orators of America.
His church was at once crowded, and soon
came to be the largest and one of the wealthi est in the two cities. Removing to Brook lyn in 1851 or 1852, the plaintiff-then a boy
just from school-took his place among the
young men of Plymouth Church. He was
speedily taken into favor by some of the
leading members and by the pastor. He was
employed to report some of Mr. Beecher's
I sermons, and the two men came into frequent
contact and formed a warm friendship.  The
favor in this friendship was all on one side.
Mr. Beecher was a man of mature years, and,
even then, almost at the height of his fame.
He had multitudes of fr'iends —mea of
4
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T 
MIRS. ELIZABETH R. TILTON.
Beecher's residence that it was quite impracticable for him to visit the house often. Still,
at the earnest solicitation of Mr.  Tilton, as
we have said, he began his visits to the house
in Oxford street; and it was during these
visits-quite infrequent, as the plaintiff tells
you, and made at his earnest request-thatMr. Beecher first became acquainted with Mrs.
Tilton in the relations of wife and mother.
wealth, of learning, of high reputation-and
could derive nothing from the mere lad whom
he thus took into the circle of his friends,
exceptthe pleasure which agreat and generous
nature feels in imparting knowledge to an
opening mind, and in helping forward a
struggling aspirant. The pastor was led to
take an additional interest in this young man
by the fact of his marriage to a young girl
whom Mr. Beecher had known and loved
from her childhood.  In the following year,
Tilton, through Mr. Beecher's friendly interest, was    taken upon the editorial staff of The
I ndepend ent, a paper mainly                     owned by one
of Mr. Beecher's congregation, and to                     which
Mr. Beehe r wa s himself a  re gular   and value             d
contributor. F      rom  this  time t   he relat       ions of
the two g     rew mo  re and more   inti mate.  Tilton visited frequently at Mr. Beecher's house
and  took an a        ctiv e           part in    the w       ork of
the                     fchurch;  and when, in  1861, Mr.
Beecher w        as  invi ted to the editorial chair of
The Independent, his affection for Mr. Tilton
w as so   well   known  tha    t one of    the chief inducements           held out to      him to accept that position was,                 that Mr. Tilton            should be associated with him as assistant editor. It is true
that    ther                            e had been some indications of envy
and conscious riv       alry on the part  of  young
Tilton, even at this early day, and some of Mr.
Beecher's oldest friends suspected                          and criticised the m    otives of the    young man; but
Mr. Beeche                 r          himself was entirely free from
suspicion, and  put the most innocent inter pretation upon every act of               h is new friend.
Atth this time, gentlemen, Mr.  Beecher  had
a summe   r residence in    the c ountry, to w  hich
it was the habit of his family to repair, about
the last of May or the first of June, and to
return again in October, or sometimes as late
as November. But a portion of the time,
while his family were  thus r esiding       in    t he
c       ountry, and prior              to the beginning of his
summe       r vac             a tion, in the city-he spent
in working at his own house, taking his
meals with some of the families of his church
during the time that he was in the city. This
habit was well known to Mr. Tilton,
and early in 1861 or 1862 he urged Mr.
Beecher to make his house also a place
of frequent  resort.   He  spoke often to
his pastor of his wife's great affection for
him, and requested him to call and make
himself at home in the family. Mr. Beecher
had known Mrs. Tilton prior to his acquaintance with Mr. Tilton, but only as a young
girl, a member of the church; and the acquaintance had practically ceased after her
marriage, until it was renewed, as I have
stated, at the request of Mr. Tilton-ceased,
I mean, so far as his visits to their house were
concerned; for in the earlv years of their
marriage they were boarding, and when they
began to keep house they commenced in Oxford street, so far from the place of Mr.
And now, gentlemen, I ask you to consider
for a moment that Mrs. Tilton is the true defendant in this cause-she whose lips are sealed
and whose hands are tied, while the battle is
waging over her body. She can make no outcry, and strike no blow in her own defense.
She can only weep and pray, as she has done
so often already looking for her deliverance
to Almighty Go[ and to the spirit of justice
which He inspires in the hearts of men.
Small in stature, and of a childlike  disposition, this lady is of a nature deeply reverential and filled with an exalted religious enthusiasm.    The plaintiff himself declares
that, had she lived in former days and belonged to the Roman Catholic Church, she
would have been recognized as one of those
illustrious women whose names shine with
the halo of saintliness.  She was devoted to
her home, entertained views of the sacredness
of motherhood almost romantic (if that were
possible), and gave her own life, under God,
absolutely to her husband and children, without a murmur as to her own self-sacrifice.
Gifted, sensitive, pure, self-depreciating, idolizing her home, and worshipping with all the
intensity of her nature the husband of her
early love, her very existence was so blended
with his, that their union fulfilled Lord
Coke's definition of marriage,  "two  souls
united in one person." From the time when
Theodore Tilton placed the wedding ring upon
the finger of Elizabeth, until that hour when,
driven by his persecution, she was compelled
to tear herself from her home and from him
forever, there had been but one person who
in all things dominated that household, and
that one was Theodore Tilton. His wish was
to her a command; whatever he willed, she
did. Relieving him from every household
care incident to the rearing of a young and
numerous family, she was content to toil and
suffer that he might win the distinction he
coveted so much.
In a married life which would have made
most women wretched, for ten long years of
absolute self-sacrifice, Elizabeth Tilton fancied herself happy.   Month by month, she
watched the gradual unfolding of her husband, under the guidance and companionship
of his friend and pastor. She saw him rising
step by step to that proud eminence which
had been the ruling ambition of his life, and
r
MRS. ELIZABETH R. TTLTON.
51 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
she was happy.  But she at last came to realize that every new success brought to him
new dangers.  She saw with pain the character of the associates with whom, in the recklessness of vanity and the intoxication of first
success, he surrounded himself.  And with
unspeakable  anguish  she  witnessed  the
change that, day by day, was going on in his
religious convictions.  Slowly but certainly
he was sliding away from the views of marriage and of social duty which he once adopted, and becoming the advocate of theories
which seemed to her to have been propounded
only by those who were unwilling that the
principles they professed should be better
than the lives they lived.  The spell of the
flatterer was upon him.  To rescue him from
all that she deemed false in religion and pernicious in morals was, as it seemed to her,
the one great duty of life.  To accomplish
this, no sacrifice was too great.   She would
patiently if not willingly accept humiliation,
reproach, accusation; nay, the most sacred
feelings of wife and mother might be outraged and trampled upon; and still she would
hide her sufferings and conceal her wounds,
if only the object of her solicitude and prayers might be saved.
There was but one person on earth to whom
she could make known her sorrow, and that
one was their friend and pastor. Boundless
was her faith in God and the efficacy of
prayer, but she was not a mere enthusiast;
she believed in a wise and faithful application of appropriate means.   How  natural,
then, that she should appeal in this emergency to him who had been the friend of
her husband's youth, the counsellor and
guide of his maturer manhood.  This pastor
sympathized with her suffering and promised
help.  How faithfully and how tenderly he
counseled the plaintiff we have seen by the
beautiful letter, as wise as it is beautiful,
which the defendant wrote to the plaintiff in
1867. If Tilton could have but heeded that
advice how different would have been the
scene from what we this day witness! There
would  have  been  no bleeding heart, no
deserted hearth-stone, no wife with broken
heart and blasted life, no children with a
blight resting upon their young and innocent
lives; but a home happy and harmonious, a
family bound together by the ties of love and
respect, a household altar undesecrated, as in
those early days of simple piety of which he
is now so much ashamed.
But, blinded by his egotism and drunk with
the intoxication of flattery, he refused to
break away from his evil associates.  Neither
the voice of friendship nor the appeals of
affection had power to save him.  Arfd now,
gentlemen, they ask us to believe that, at
this time, when all of a wife's faith, a
woman's devotion and a mother's love, was
being exerted to save Theodore Tilton from
the  companionsh i p and cor rupting i nfluence
of those " whose feet take hold on hell "
this pure-minded and saintly woman, in her
very effort to save her husband, fell herself!
Fell into the very sins against which, for so
many anxious years, she had been warning her
husband Iwith strong crying and with teals!"
Nay, more, that the very religion-the religion which she had cherished all her life, and
which was confessedly so conspicuous in that
life, furnished the motives for her fall! Still
more, that so infatuated and unintelligent
was her hold upon that faith that, having
sinned, she solemnly denied this conscientious
crime and invented a tissue of lies to support
that denial; that, still further moved by an
inspiration she believed Divine, she abandoned all the responsibilities and loves of
life, and clave to a spiritual guide, himself
all leprous and loathsome with adultery and
pejury -and that (anti-climax of abomina.
tions!) she is  "a pure and  white-souled
woman" still! Gentlemen, you are men
full grown; you have the wisdom that comes
from the experience of life, the observation
of human snature, the knowledge of affairs.
Is there one among you that can so discredit
all that experience and observation as to
entertain for a moment a suggestion so unutterably absurd, so absolutely monstrous?
In June, 1863, Mr. Beecher, fee     ling exhausted  by his labors,    visit ed Europe  for a
few months, leaving Mr. Tilton in   charge of
The Independ~n  during his absence; and,
on his  return, finding from  experience that
the burden was too great for him, he privately r  e     linquished the entire     charg e of  the
paper to Mr. Tilton. He consented, however, that his own name should remain as
ostensible editor for a year longer, and, at the
end of that time, Mr. Tilton openly assumed
the  charge of  the pap er. The pri ze Tilton
had so e a rnest ly struggled for was  now won;
and, at the age of thirty years, he found
himself the successor of Henry Ward Beecher,
the occupant of one of the proudest editorial
chairs in America. For this position he was
indebted to the friendship of Henry Ward
Beecher.
The nature of the friendship which I have
thus briefly described, and its value to Mr.
Tilton, can be portrayed in no language of
mine more effective than that in which he
has done it himself, in a letter which he
wrote under a stress of conscience, the very
year that he became editor, and a few days
after he had, over his wine, made direct and
wicked insinuations against his loving pastor
and best friend. In this letter he tells, under
an impulse of gratitude which was all too
brief, something of the obligations which he
was under to the man whom he had just
6
MR.'NLTON'S TRIUMPHANT CAREER.
'f 
MR. TILTON'S TRIUMPHANT CAREER.
begun covertly to slander, and whom he now
seeks to destroy:
that he had emancqpated himself from Mr.
Beecher's influence, and was no longer guided
by him.  He had, in his estimation, become
the equal of Henry Wa,d Beecher, if not his
superior, and he must take the first opportunity to satisfy the world of that fact.  Early
in 1865, he makes a political difference the
oc casion for de nouncing Mr. Beecher    in   The
Independent. The  ye ar fo llowing, the  opo
position of the  paper  to Mr. Beecher became
so  pron ounced,  and  its attacks  upon
him so virulent, that he  wa s co mpelled in
self-respect to sever    all connection  wit h i t,
and to refuse it permission longer to print his
sermons.   The pretended occasion of this
attack in 1866 was Mr. Beecher's Cleveland
letter  which has been  introduced  in eviden ce,
before  you, and  which yo u have hear d read.
You will remember, gentlemen,th t  th a t that was
a period just  succeed ing the  c lose of the war.
The question  befor e  the co untry wa s what
shou ld be the policy of the North to wards the
conquered States of the   South, and  that
question depended upon what should be the
policy of the Administration; because  w hatever policy the  Administration-having a
majo rity in Congress a n d th e control of the
executive power-s hould adopt, must become,
of cours         e, the  policy of the nation.  There
was a long and angry controversy, as you
may reemember,  within   the ran ks of the
Republ ican  party, w hich was a t that time the
party responsible fo r the  control of the Government —as to  what shoujd be  the policy  of
the country; many Republicans adhering to
what they regard e d as  the policy which Mr.
Lincoln had adopted prior to his  death, and
others  seeki ng to dep art from that policy an d
adopt a new and more aggressive course
toward the  South.  While  the policy of th e
Republican pa r ty was being fo rm ed and settled, and debat e  and argument were going on
within the ranks of that party, Mr. Beecher
was among those who adhered to what he
deemed the policy which Mr. Lincoln would
have inaugurated and carried out had he
lived. That policy was expressed in what
is known as the a Cleveland letter," a letter,
gentlemen,which,permit me to say, read at this
time, nine years after it was written, shows
that Mr. Beecher was no less eminent as
a statesman than as a minister of the
Gospel. But that letter, which was only an
argument intended to influence the policy of
the Administration and of the Republican
party, was made by Theodore Tilton the
pretext for a bitter and outrageous attack
upon Henry Ward Beecher; and in that
contest, as we know, the policy which was
advocated by the extreme men of the party
came to -prevail, and Mr. Tilton, as he tells
you upon the witness stand, found himself
with the majority of the party. The contre
versy which sprang from this letter severed
the public connection between Mr. Beechef
MIDNIGHT,
1BROOKLYN, -NOV. 30,1865. }
REV. HENRY WARD BEECHER:
MY DEAR FRIEND-Returning home lateto-night,
I cannot go to bed without writing you a letter.
Twice I have been forced to appear as your antagonist before the public-the occasions five vears
apart.  After the first, I am sure our friendship,
instead of being maimed, was strengthened.  After
this last, if I may guess your heart by knowing
mine, I am sure the old love waxes instead of
wanes.  * * *  My friend, from my boyhoodup,
you have been to me what no other man has beenwhat no other man can be. While I was a student,
the influence of your mind on mine was greater
than all books and all teachers.  The intimacy
with which you honored me for twelve years has
been (next to my wife and family) the chief affection of my life. By you I was baptized-b          y you 
malTied. You are my minister, teacher, father
brother, friend, companion.  The debt I owe you I
can never pay.  My religious life; my intellectual
development; my  open door ofopportunityfor labor;
my public reputation; all these, my dear friend, I      l
owe in so great a degree to your own kindness that
my gratitude cannot be written in words, but must
be expressed only in love.
Then, what hours we have had together? What
arm in arm wanderings about the streets! What
hunts for pictures and books! What mutual revelations and communings! I What interchangings of
mirth, of tears, of prayers                               I
The more I think Sack upon this friendship, the
more am I convinced that, not your public position,
not your fame, not your genius, but just your affection, has been the secret of the bond between us; 
for whether you had been high or low, great or common, I believe that my heart, knowing its mate
would have loved you exactly the same I
Now, therefore, I want to say that if, either long
ago or lately, any word of mine, whether spoken or
printed, whether public or private, has given you
pain, I beg you to blot it from your memory, and to
write your forgiveness in its place
Moreover, if I should die, leaving you alive, I ask
you to love my children for their father's sake, who
has taught them to reverence you, and to regard you
as the man of men.
One thing more. My religious experiences have
never been more refreshing than during the last
year. Never before have I had such fair and winning thoughts of the other life. With these thoughts
you stand connected in a strange and beautiful way.
l believe human friendship outlasts human life.
Our friendship is yet of the earth, earthy, but it
shall one day stand uplifted above mortality, safe,
without scar or flaw, without a breath to blot or a
suspicion to endanger it. Meanwhile, 0 my friend I
may   our Fa   ther ineaven b less you on the earth,
guide you, strengthen you, illumine you, and at last
crown you with the everlasting crown I
And now, good night, and sweet be your dreams of
Your unworthy but eternal friend,
THEODORE TILTON.
7
11
We have seen, gentlemen, that, in this year
1866, Mr. Tilton assumed the absolute and
.open control of The [nde.pendent. He could
be no longer supposed to be under the influence of Mr. Beecher. Mr. Beecher had
retired from the paper, and although he was
,a correspondent of it, and it published his
sermons weekly, still -Mr. Tilton was its sole
responsible editor. The first thing his egotir,,m prompted him to do, on assuming
,control of the paper, was to satisfy the world 
OPENING FOR
it was that lack of reverence for the church
and its ordinances, and your lack of belief in
the divinity of Christ, as she held it, that she
missed in you?"   To that he answered:
"  Yes;" and the following question was put
to him:  "And she grieved over it?"  He
answered: " Oh! yes, indeed; grieved over
it with tears." And to a further question:
" Do you know whether the change in your
religious  convi ctions was  a s ource of  great
grief and  sorrow to your wife?" Hee an   -
swered: " It was a great source of tears and
anguish to her; she said to me once that denying the divinity of Christ, in her view,
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 ever suffered, because I
cannot look upon the Lord Jesus Christ as
the Lord God. I think her breast has been
wrenched with it; she is almost an enthuisiast on the subject of the divinity of her
Saviour.   Q. You think her a Christian, do
you? A. Yes; she is the best Christian I
know of, barring her faults; better than any
minister. Q. The change of your religious
views has been the subject of a great deal of'
conversation and anguish, and labor on her
part, has it not? A. Oh, yes-of letters, and
prayers, and tears, and entreaties, many a,
time and oft."
In this hour of her great sorrow, Mrs. Tilton applied to her pastor for advice and sympathy. Mr. Beecher saw Tilton frequently,
and talked with him upon matters of religious belief. On June 3, 1867, he wrote
Tilton the judicious and eloquent letter
which has been given in evidence, and from
which I now desire to quote.
Mr. Beecher writes to Mr. Tilton:
and Mr.  Tilton. The latter   c                              ould no longer
be suspected of being swayed or controlled
i    n      h i      s public  relations by the influence of Mr.
Beecher.  Other       i nflue nces came  in to  replace
the great i        nfluence w hich  h ad departed.  The
char   acte        r       of th           at influence, gentlemen, you
may judge  by  the  sub          sequent career        of Mr.
Tilton. The extreme men of every faction,
of every v          iew,  f locked    around Mr. Tilton.
T       hey f  ound how  easily th ey co ul d use him.
T      o  us  e h im successfully,      it was o nly necessary
t o flatt   e        r him.  They found him naturally
prone           to accept the most radical  view                   of
every qu estion;       and they  simply t o o           k possession of him and controlled him, so long as he
r     em a    ined edito r        of that paper. But at this
time. in 1          866, t he    second year af            ter he had
assumed con trol of  The Indep enden        t,   it was
observed that hi  s religious  views b        ega  n to
undergo   a marked change.  For the people
wh     o had surrounded him were not extremists
i       n  politi c   s or in social  the           ories exclusively,
but  in               religion also, and Mr. Tilton began to
show that he  was ac cepting the ir views   on this
subject. As  earlv as March, 1866,  he writesto
his wife: " I don't care  greatly                             for sermons,
but      I       am a  believer in    hymns."  On February
1, 1867, he writes;                                                    to "I am conscious of departing more and more from the
peculiar      religious a nd theological views which
you regard as sacred.  Perhaps this      statement
may give you    t          rouble, but  certainly  this fact
has given me peace." Twelve days afterward,
he again writes:   s       r d' s"The  old religious
teachings, the orthodox views, the dread of
p          unishment, the atonement, have less and
less power over my mind. Of course you
will mourn over this. But I                                 must be an
honest man. I don't believe in orthodoxy,
an      d       theref or e I will not pretend to d o so."
Thi      s       chang e in his religious sen        timents was a
sourc      e       of gr eat un happ ine ss to his wife.  This
is testified to, n ot onl     y by Mr. Tilton, but by
the witness whom the plaintiff has      in    troduced
into your presence, Mrs. Bradshaw. She tells
you that Mrs. Tilton                            m ourned greatly over
t    he   change of religious sentiments that came
ovhe  her hus band  in these early years.  On
his cross- examination before t       he Com               mittee,
Tilto            n de clared that         he thoroughly hates and
despises religious creeds.  Says he: "I do
not believe in one of the th       e   hirty -n ine articles,
nor  in  ei     the     r of the   catechisms, nor in the
d    ivin e         inspira tion of the Scriptures, nor in         the
divinity of Christ."   He further says: "I
despise the church and generally despise ministers."  He further,ays: I I thank God I
do not belong to the priesthood or the
church." Tilton further testifies to the sorrow and anguish which this change in his religious sentiments caused his wife. He says:
~  She was always in sorrow that I was not a
minister, which was the only virtue that I
possess." On that examination, there was
put to him the following question: " Wells
June 3, 1867.
MY DEAR TiriODori: In thinking over our con.,
versation respecting your position on religious,
matters, it occurs to me that you are liable to do
yourself an unnecessary injustice by supposing or
affirming that you have wandered from received
opinions, whereas it seems to me that you have
simply entered that   stage o f develo pment  in
which every  active mind explores the grounds and
reasons of biorelief for himself. Now, it is impossible
for one, unless cautious even to coldness, to pursue
such investigations wi t hou t    great oscillations of
belief, without seeming at one time averse to one
view, and then again seeking it w i t  h greater
avidity than ever.  It is a quest ion  so  wide, so
grave, w tha one ought not    to c ommit  himself upon
the hastyresult of a yearns or severalyears' reading.
You seem to me to follow your sympathies largely
in investigation.  This has its advantages, and is
one way of study; but it requires far more time'
and caution, inasmuch as it will surely lead you to
accept things from poetic or emotive reasons
which are but halv true, which need and will get by
longer experience much modification. The formation of opinions upon religious questions in sucha,
nature as yours is a matter of growth more than of
logic. Under such a state of facts, therefore, I
would submit whether you can wisely or even truly
say you stand on this or on that ground, and
whether you do not, in justice to your own final
self. require all the privileges accorded to those,
8
THE DEFENSE.
1. 
TILTON'S ALIEN LOVES
who are investigating. In part I write from experience.  I look back upon periods when, if I had
expressed the then results of thoughit and reading,
I sould have committed myself to views which I
have outgrown or left behind.  I find myself, slowly but surely, going toward those views of human
nature and of divine government  which have
underlain for a thousand years the Evangelical
churches.  It seems to me that I discern, arising
from studies in natural science, a surer foothold of
these views than they have ever had, in so far as
theology is concerned. If I have one purpose or aim,
it is to secure for the truths now developing in the
spheres of natural science a religious spirit and a
harmonization with all the great cardinal truths of
religion which have thus far characterized the
Chrl stian system. I turn with more and more chill
and dread from that bleak and fruitless desert of
naturalism which so many are hailing as a second
paradise."
the      most r adical views upon this,  as he  was
accustomed to do upon   all subject s.  He soon
began to talk wit   h fri ends visitin g a t hi s
house upon this matter. He did not hesitate
to declare  before his wife that he had now
come  to regard the marriag e  relation   ver y
differently from what  he once did.  To him
it was no  longer  a sacr ed  i nst itution, to be
regulated by the Church or State. His most
intimate frien ds of both sexes  c ame  t o be
those  who agreed  with h im u po n the  subject
of marriage. They used to converse much
upon t       t he r elation of the sexes; the great
value of mutual friendships between married
men and unmarried women, or between married etemen  and other men's wives;   th e  e xtent
t o    which such intimacies could be carried a nd
still be innocent; and finally the impossibility of criminality in any relation which love
had sanctified.  This, I say, gentlemen, we
shall show you, was a frequent subject of
conversation between %Ir. Hilton and his associates visiting at his house. It was these
sentiments, so offensive to this pure and devoted wife and mother, that she was compelled to listen to, day after day, and week
after week. This change was, if possible,
more repugnant to her than his change in
religion. The one she strove against with
anguish, with entreaty and with tears; the
other she resisted and fought against. She
despised the doctrine and its adherents;, she
forbade her house to the women who advocated it; she remonstrated with her husband
against the principles he held and the people,
with whom he associated, and, particularly,
she suspected his numerous friendships with
women, which he characterized as " sacred
weddings which knew no sex."
Further  on h e says:
" Believe me, Theodore, that I have great sympathy in your developments, and affection for you,
and should be glad to help and sorry to hinder."
Now comes a paragraph, the significance of
which will be more apparent as we get further
on in our opening, gentlemen, but which I
wish to call your attention to now, lest it may
not recur to me at that time. Mr. Beecher,
in order to disarm all ground of hostility, and
to prevent the advice which he had given to
Mr. Tilton on religious subjects being repelled
by hostile personal feelings, says to him:
"I have given up the idea of starting a newspaper.
I am sure that I could not bear the strain and yet
carry on my church.
I am truly yours,
la. W. BEllCHaR."
This, gentlemen, was in 1867. The significance of that reference to a new paper in
the relations of these two men, as I have
said, will become more apparent as we get
further on in this matter.
But the change in his religious convictions
was not the only departure made by Mr.
Tilton from opinions theretofore accepted by
him. There followed soon after a very marked
change in his social views respecting the relation of the sexes, and particularly on the
subjects of marriage and divorce.  Mr. Tilton espoused with zeal the cause of woman's
suffrage.  He reports himself in The Golden
Age as having said during the war that, after
the abolition of slavery, the next great question which would agitate the public mind
would be that of woman's suffrage; and,
undoubtedly  believing that a great social
revolution was impending, he aspired to mnake
himself the leader of the movement.   But
its adherents differed widely among themselves in their views of the marriage relation.
Many, perhaps a majority, coincided with all
Christian people upon this subject; while
others held that marriage was a mere matter
of civil contract, and that the parties thereto
should be as fre e to   dissolve the relation    as
they Were to enter into it. Tilton accepted
She rejected his sophistry, that they were
helps to him in his labors, or pillars against
which he could lean for support.  She per-.
ceived with a woman's instinct the end to
which such relations would bring him. Still
Tilton persisted in the necessity of such
friendships and humiliated his wife by the
publicity he gave to them. The freedom
with which he used to write to his wife on the.
subject of his relations with other women —
his friendships, as he called them, for women
-is illustrat ed in the  correspondence  which
h as  been introduced.  It is a  remarkable   cor —
respondence, gentlemen, to pass between
husband and wife. It develops a trait in
Mr. Tilton's character that is most unusual
and almost unaccountable-that he could
presume to humiliate his wife and destroy
her peace of mind by disclosing to her in correspondence the friendships which he had for
other ladies, and describe them as going to
the extreme lengths which he did. On February 12, 1867, he wrote:
9
It
TILTON'S ALIEN LOVES. 
OPENING FOR
a letter as I have just read to you, gentlemen, followed by such an association as existed between  Theodore  Tilton  and  this
Western family, then  I confess my inability
to appreciate cruelty or  the intense sorrow
which  a man  may be capable of inflicting
upon a woman.
My DARLING: I wrote you a hurried sheet this
morning from the Sherman House, while waiting
for-   to breakfast with me.  He did not come;
I ate my breakfast alone. Once again on the cars,
and once again confronting a lecture appointment,
I feel that [ am once again at work, after my two
days of pleasant rest.
And I confess that rest is sweet. I do not
mean rest for wearied limbs, though that, too, is
sweet- but rest for one's spirit; rest in the midst
of a circle of kind and loving friends; rest to one's
own vagrant, untamed and unconquerable homesickness  rest in the tranquillity of spiritual peace.
I have been enjoying two days of such rest. The
spell is still on me this morning. I rode five hours
to -   yesterday afternoon, and five hours back,
after midnight,  on purpose to spend a long and delicious evening                 ly.  This family    h                 ami
and its influences have helped to make me a better
man.  The very roof seems to spread over me a
benediction. I am grateful for the Providence that
ordered my steps, ast December, to the threshold
of this cottage. Tarrying with these dear people
has been a new experience in friendship-a new
delight of life.
The whole subject of friendships has been much
in my mind this Winter.
I am satisfied that whoso makes no intimate or
confidential frieLds, both smong men and among
women-friends with whom he girdles himself
round about as with a halo-friends who are props
to keep him lifted perpetually toward his highest
life-friends whose friendship is a kind of sacred
wedding that knows no sexsuch a man neglects
One of the greatest of i         human  opportunities f wor in -
tellectual, moral and spiritual growth.
But in January, 1868, Mr. Tilton's social
relations had reached a point where concealment could no longer be endured, where
there must be an explanation with promise
of reformation, or else a break. That explanation was had on Sunday, Jan. 26, 1868.
The whole subject of his relations with other
women, his temptations, his sins, the manner
of treatment by his wife on account of them,
his concealments, and deceit, were brought
up in this interview.  Elizabeth Tilton was in
one of her most exalted moods.  She spoke
with  frankness, earnestne ss, and sorrow to
her  h us band, w ho, cons cious-stricken, fell
groveling at he r feet.  He confessed   th at
his " sacred w e ddings " wer e s   tained with
sin, and that he could no longer look his wife
and  children in the face and  listen  to their
words  of confidence and  affection without
feeling   himself " a hypocrite, a deceiver,   a
whited sephulchre full of dead men's bones."
I will not stop to consider too closely whether he confessed adulter y of  the body, or
what he  calls adultery of  th e  sou l. Certain
it is, from the remarkable correspondence
which        f ollowed, continuing through  the year
1868, that this evening wa s  made me mora ble
by confessions of some degree of sin on his,
part concerning his    sexu al rel ations, and b y
an  angelic forgiveness, pity and victor ious
faith in t                 he future on the part of his  wife.
Not one word of reproach was uttere d  by this
pure  an i nu e d  injured  woman. She hastene d to
lift him from the moral prostration into
which he had  fallen, to c o mfort him by th e
assuranc e  of he r uns haken  ho pe  and confidence in his future life, and broke him  d own
afresh by her beautif ul  tenderness. She forgave him even before he pledged himself to
a  new career; but he gave these pledge s  with
the  utmost ear nestness a nd  solemn ity. The y
bowed their knees together, renewing before
God their early vows, forsaking all the world
beside to cleave to each other alone. Nor
d id  this content the  noble  wife. Her   wonderful magnanimity and divinely-inspired
sympathy co uld not let her  rest till she had
taken upo n herself the blame   of  her husband's fall, and found  in s ome su  pposed
harshness and indifference on her own part
an excuse for his many sins. For this imaginary fault she lashed herself both then
and afterward with fanatical severity, She
applied to herself the epithets which his
conscience had suggested concerning his own
IAnd this fact reveals the one prolonged mistake of my past life-my association with your
mother. I can now plainly see what I might haave
been, if, for instance, I could have lived under such
a roof as sheltered me in-   instead of breathing during all these years the atmosphere of Livingston street."
"If my mother-in-law had been such a woman as
— and the influences of Brooklyn had been
like the influences of -, I believe that I might
have gro-.vi  by this time as unselfish as a good woman. Hlow much more I would then have been to
yourself and the children I How many pangs you
might have been saved! How manyunknown joys
you might have experienced I I have not been a
wise man or I would not have consented, eleven
years ago, to pitch my tent in a bank of fog."
Again he says: "I have never seen so plainly as I
have seen this winter what Livingston street mil.dew I have been carrying on my garments for
eleven years. Six months ago I was accustomed
to say to myself in my secret hours,'Theodore Tilton, i            iis      o time for youie to die  your  u  gr ows not
whiter but darker;- die soon and save youself from
total destruction.' But I believe that if I shall return to Brooklyn at all, I shall return a different
-man. God grant it! I know that I have tried to
wash myself clean at the fountain of a better life."
10
THE DEFENSE.
MRS. TILTON'S MAGNANIMITY.
.1
Again, he says:
The number of people who mate each other-who
fLt one another exactly-who are (to use your
word) " coanterparts," is very ismall.
i,
Again, he rays:
It was this family in the West preside(I
-over by a mother with sever. daughters,
one of which was the young lady I have re.ferred to, who paid a visit at this house about
this time in Brooklyn. If vou can imagine a
,cruelty which a husband.can inflict upon a
wife greater than the writing of - such 
RS. TILTON'S MAGNANIMITY.
real transgressions.  Her language, seen in
the  correspondence  immediately following,
is more  extravagant than at any previous
or  subsequent  period, in its expression of
devotion to and admiration for her husband.
In it she strives in every way to restore
his self-respect, to replace him on his pedestal of pride, to convince him that she worshiped  him  more, and  not less than she
had done before his humiliating confessions.
The effect of this magnificent exhibition of a
woman's devotion, of her utterly unselfish,
purifying love upon the mind of her husband,
cannot be better described than in the language of that husband himself, from which
I shall now read to you a few passages.  This
interview, gentlemen,  took place, as I have
said, on Sunday night, January 26, 1868. Mr.
Tilton was to leave home that night for a
lecture tour in the West.  He left his house
that evening to go to the railroad station in
New York, and once in the car he wrote his
wife this memorable letter:
I am the chief of sinners! I understand perfectly
how you have felt. I carry in my soul this burden,
black of sin, yet appear to my children and friends
calm and happy. "Woe unto you, whited sepulchre,"
I hear perpetually. I will carry these agonies glad.
ly, for I know a life of happiness awaits you.
Darling, we must both cultivate our self-respect
by being what we seem-then will be fulfilled my
ideal marriage-to you and you only a wife-but
contact ofthe body with no other —while then, a pure
friendship with many may be enjoved, ennobling
us. Let us have not even a shadow of doubt of each
other-tho' all the world are weak  yet will we be
strong.
God accept and bless us both.
Now are we one.
By bye,
Faithfully yours.
HUDSON RIVER R. R., 31st st. Depot, 
Jan. 26, 1868.  S
Now,  gentlemen,  this letter was written
long before the breath of suspicion had been
breathed against this lady, even by the malice
of her husband.   It was written when his
own relations with women had destroyed his
self-respect and broken him down, and he
sought  to palliate it by the harshness, and
the indifference, and the jealousy which his
conduct had inspired in his wife.  To save
him and restore him she made her forgivene ss as bountiful as woman  can make forgiveness  to man.  She took everything upon
herself, and, as you see, refers to her harshn ess here, and her indifference, as  pe- haps
the cause of his temptations.  But to leave
no doubt as to the subject of that interview,
and what was discussed there, I read you now
the letter of February 3, 1868, a letter which
has become somewhat famous in this remarkable controversy:
MY DARLING:
You have never seemed so noble to me as during
last evening and this day. You are not only all,
but more then all, that any man can need or ever
can desire. Life never seemed to me to be more
full of objects and ends worth living for, than since
our recent long interview and mutual confessions.
I am by nature so frank that the attempt to hide my
feelings, to cloak my shortcomings, to deny utter  ance to my inward sorrows, had lately driven me
almost to despair.
The secret of all my long.continued moodiness
has been-dissatisfaction, not with you, but with
myself.  I was once well enough content to be
esteemed at something better than my merit, but of
late all such estimates of me have been horribly re  pulsive to my mind. They have revealed me to my self in the character of a hypocrite, a deceiver,
whited sepulchrefilled with dead men's bones. Above
all things it has been dreadful for me to hear praises
of myself from you and Florence.  I could not rest
content under the idea that either of you felt that
my gloom was occasioned by anything lacking in
yourselves, but only in my own self.
MONDAY, February 3, ] 868, }
9 o'clock A. N. 
What may I bring to my beloved this morning?
ho  * *  Most truly do     love, and am resolved
nevermore to repress the expression of it.  I have
lived under the fatal mistake that I would make you
selfish, but oh! what it has cost me to learn that a
large, generous love cannot,  in its very nature,
mi n ister but to our best and holy states! The pieture of your dear face, most constant with me, is one
glowing with love, but always bearing the look of
one that has suffered.  Cail I, who am the cause
thereof, ever again be indifferent? Nay, the little
life which remalneth is consecrated to restore, if
possible, the beautiful image I have marred. There
is no sacrifice too great that I would not enthusiastically make to this end, if God will only consider me worthy to work with him.  I have been
thinking, my darling, that knowing as you do your
immense power over an audience to move them at
your will, that same power you have with all public
men ove r  any woman whom you may love. To love
is praiseworthy, but to abuse your gift of influenco
is aSinI
FRIDAY, Jan. 31, 1868-11 o'clock P. M.
Oh, Theodore, darling, I am haunted night and
day by the remorse of knowing that, because of my
harshness and indifference to you, you were driven
to despair, perhaps sin, and these last years of unhappiness.  I sometimes feel it to be the unpardonable sin.  God cannot forgive me.  But if you only
may be restored to your forme r lovelin ess, I   shall be
content to live my fife in penance, yea, in disgrace.
11
This, you remember, gentlemen of the j nry,
was on the 31st of January, 1868. The language which I am about to read will show you
what was the subject of their conversation,
what the danger is which, at the time, threatened him, and from which she was striving
with all the devotion and the faith of a
woman to save him:
She answers this letter on the 31st of
January, and in it you will see, gentlemen,
how, notwi thstanding his admissions and
Confessions of his numerous temptations, she
attributed to her own harshness, her uncharitableness, her rebukes of him, thus compelling him to keep secret his affairs somewhat from her-how she attributed his fall
or his shortcomings to herself, and took all
the sin upon herself. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
creature, that man was I; no more despondencyno more repining-no more vain regrets-no more
loss of selt:respect-no more groveling in the dust.
On the contrary, I am once again a man among men,
and a Christian among Christians. Now, this transformation I owe to yourself, to your irrepressible
love and devotion, to your ceaseless prayers, and to
your victorious faith.
* * *  *    *   *   *   *    *   *
Your letters, since I have been from home this last
time,hi o the res  have been the dearest you have ever penned.
They are royal in their tone.  Each one fills me with
renewed pride and joy in my wife. O, my darling,
in comparison with such love as you express, how
poor is the friendship of all other friends I I have
never seen any one who loves as you do."'
This is the letter, gentlemen, which was so
marvelously garbled by this plaintiff in the
early part of this                    controversy before the
church, which he so garbled as to put upon
the wife an imputation that she herself was
tempted, and was likely to fall, and was resisting her own temptation.  He  made  it
read, as you remember, speaking of herself:
"To love is praiseworthy, but to abuse the gift
is sin. Here I am strong. No temptation could
induce me," etc. But when you get at this letter and read the whole of it, you see that she
is speaking of him, and the abuse of his
influence over women, and she is remonstrating with him against that abuse: "To  love
is praiseworthy, but to abuse your gift of istnfluence is a sin.  Therefore I would fain help
restore to you that which I broke downsELF-REsPEcT.  Your manhood, and its purity
and dignity, if you feel it, is stronger than
even love itself.  I know this because here I
am strong. No demonstrations or fascinations could cause me  to yield my womanhood."  He had made her believe that her
chiding, her jealousy,  her harshness  had
compelled him to be a hypocrite to her, and
to conceal from her his relations and his
affections with other women. Then, bursting
out into confessions of his sins, his humiliation before her had broken down his self-respect; and that is what she alludes to in this
passage.  She will aid him  now to restore
that self-respect which she had helped him
to break down.
7
You havete the richest of all human hearts. It
am pledged to you for ever. My vows I shall keep
and not break. With God's help and with yours
I shall be the faithfulest man in the world. Blessingf on your soul this Sabbath day.
dEver yours,
THEODORE.
During this Western trip he had, previous
to February 18, written his wife in regard to
a visit he had paid this same Western family
to which I have referred.   He had stated to>
her that, in order to make that visit, he had
given up one or two of his engagements at,
lecturing; and yet, this wife having promised
him no more chidings, no more harshness, no
more jealousy, when she received this letter
from him informing her of this fact, answers
him in the manner I shall now read. On,
Tuesday afternoon, February 18,'68, Mrs.
Tilton wrote her husband then in the West,
as follows:
TiPE AFTERNOON SESSION.
TUESDAY ArERwNOON, Feb. 18, 1868.
M O TY  DARLING HUSBAND:  You have made me richl
to -day; your letter from Lincoln came this morning, and this night Eliza brought me thefull epistle
from Chicago.  I read every word eagerly; drop
instantly whatever I am doming when the postman
comes, and give myself up utterly, body and soul,
locking the doors to prevent intruders, just as we
are wont to do after an absence. I am heartily
glad you are with the dear good friends in Chicago.
How I wish I could have been with you!  I hope
you have impressed upon-    myprofound respect
and love for her.  How grateful it was to your
poor tired head to rest there in the bosom of those
dear ones.  I am so glad, so thankful, the opportunity was given you, even though it cost the Des
Moines appointment and two letters of mine awaiting you.  I never realized, as now I do, your arduous labors, and the great hindrance and drag I
have been to your young beautiful life.
I yearn to caress and tenderly care for you, read,
sing, and gladden those dear eyes once again. 
feel, as never before, how dreadful a thing it is to
wound or stab any human heart by sharp, stinging
words.  Perhaps the dear  Father has given me
another lease of life, that I may learn this lesson.
I praise him for his goodness. Then, again, darling, I have felt so heart-sick, that there are so few
great men and women.  The idea of a faithful, true
marriage will be lost o ut o f the  world-certainly
out of the literary and refined world-unless we revive it.
Believe in me,
Yours always,
ELIZABETH, WLFE.
CRAWFORDSVILLE, IND.,
SUNDAY MORNING, Feb. 9, 1868. }
MY DEAR ANGEL: I dreamed of you last night,
and awoke thinking of you this morning.   How
much I want to see you! How I yearn after you!
How my soul blesses you day by day! I can never
describe how precious your love of your husband
has appeared to him during these few weeks past.
Your singleness, your fe your your purity, your devotion-they fill my mind and heart with reverence,
adoration, and humility.
I regard my last evening spent with you at home
at the most memorable point in my whole life. You
opened for me, that night, the gate of Heaven,which
had so long seemed shut.
Ever since I have had nothing but glory, thanksgiving and praise. If ever a man was made a new
12
Well might he say that!
GMTLF,XM OF THIB Jupy: At the recess, I
was reading to you the remarkable correspondence that followed the interview between
the husband and the wife on Sunday evening, January 26th, at the time Mr. Tilton
was to take his departure for a lecturing tour
,out West. I had read to you one letter from
Mr. Tilton written on the cars that night,
and I, had read you two from his wife.
and I now read the second letter from Mr.
Tilton, dated February 9th, 1868, and you
will'see by this letter, gentlemen. the high
estimate in which be held his wife at this
time:
.7 
IRS. TILTON'S,WGNA.GiANMIITY.
our chief.  I am literally tormented at having no
grave for his crumbling clay. Every allusion to the
subject has been a pang through my heart.
Then, too, all my religious doubts and difficulties
have been, and are, and I fear must be, shut within
myself, because I cannot open my mouth to you con cerning them without giving you a wound.   You
are the finest fibred soul that ever was put into a
body; you jar at my touch, and I am apt to touch
you too rudely.
As for my own character, I saw, at the time of
Paul's death, what it was to be a man, and how far
short of it I am myself; and I have ever since been
utterly overwhelmed with my own worthlessness,
selfishness, degradation, and wickedness. At some
time I expect to recover from this slough of des&
pond, but not now; I must remain longer in suffer.
i n g b efore I can emerge into peace.  I have been
overthrown, and, before I rise, I must be made to
feel, like Anteaeus, that strength comes from touching the ground.
But the chief of all my miseries is this: that I
impart them to others.  Let me say, with the utmost fervor of protestation, that neither you, nor
the children, nor the house, nor the servant, nor
anything that is within our gates-not one alonenor all combined-no, none of these  persons or
things has the slightest originating share in my
troubles.  Those troubles (such as they are) are of
my own making.  Would to God they were also of
my own enduring!  But they have to be inflicted
upon others-upon yourself and the children. It is
this fact that doubles my affliction.
But your kind and tender words, penciled in the
studio this morning, were very precious to mesweeter than honey in the honeycomb. I write
this letter on purpose to thank you for them. God
bless you evermore.
Lovingly  yours,       tayhr
THEODORE.
I now read, gentlemen, another letter in
this correspondence written by the wife,
February 20, 1868, in which she betrays her
-fears of renewed difficulty and dissatisfaction,
on his return home.
At that same journey West, on the 20th
of February, he writes her again, referring
to this same Western influence, and he, having made vows of faithfulness, assures her
that the spell with him is broken. He says:
" The picture Madonna had arrived in good
condition, and was hanging on the wall"the wall of the residence of this lady.
"It is very neatly.ramed, and looks pure and
royal. - was pleased, but the old fragrance has
gone out of the'prairie rose.' The Rower is still
comely, interesting, and agreeable, but I marvel at
myself for once thinking it so fragrant above all
the rest of the garden.  It is gone for ever! It can
never be to me henceforth anything but a common
plant. This figure of speech is a mystery which I
think you will understand. I intimate no names."
T    h us much, gentlemen,  for    the  letters
while        he wa  s  West,             and for the assurances of
fidelity to                                             h          is marriage vow which he gave
her       after that con  versati on of January 26th.
In t    he Summ er, however,e e has returned to
his home in the  City of New  York.  Old as
sociates have co me arounrd h           im and  n ew
tempt       ation s hav   e            overtaken him,  and he
finds that   the resolutio ns of January cannot
hold out thr ough  th     e  frosts of November.
He is stricken again with humility, with a
feeling    of wor th     lessness, with inability to
resist      these temptations,                       and, moved by a
letter which he received from his wife, written in the studio in New York, at his office,
on the 3d day of November, he replies to her
in the following manner. I shall not dwell
upon this letter, gentlemen-I shall not stop
to comment upon it at present. The duty of
that will be reserved until the final summing
up of this case.   I only allude to it now as
the closing letter of this remarkable correspondence in the year 1868:
I'THURSDAY EVENING, Feb. 20, 1868.
My BELOVED: I am  sO lonesome and heartsick
for your companionship to-night that I hesitate to
write lest my mood may depress you.  Yet I can
cannot wish you home, for I am persuaded you are
happier where you are. While I long to be with
you, I am haunted continually with fears that your
cheery face will soon be shadowed and the dear
head droop. This thought is agony, to me, and I
have spent many hours since your absence weeping
because of    it. 
I would fain make the path smooth for your feet,
or, in other words, direct the children and the
household that they minister harmony only, but I
know I cannot, and I am afraid! "
" A.T THE OFFICE, NOV. 3, 1868.
My DEARY: Your kind and loving note falls so
pleasantly on my spirits that I wouild  imm ediately
go home this afternoon were it not th    at I        have engaged to go out this evening. 
There is so much sunshine pouring into my little
office at this moment that I think I never knew a
brighter day in my life;"  [The sunshine he here
refers to, I suppose, is the sunshine that came from
the note of his wife in the morning.]
"And I hope that some of the light and warmth
will steal into and remain within my cold and cruel
heart.
It is the greatest regret of my life that I do not
seem constituted so as to make you as happy as you
deserve to be; but I have the best of intentionsand the worst of success.
The cause of so much trouble at home is my gen.
eral anxiety about everything.  Latterly I worry
more or less concerning every matter which I touch.
I have hardly ten minutes a day of uninterrupted free
from care.  This may seem an exaggerated statement; but it is the painful truth.  I feel as it I
were growing old before my time.  Lights that
used to burn within me have been quenched. Hopes
are faded; ambition is killed; life seems a failure.
As I cannot bear to see any expression of pain
or sorrow, or regret, on your face, I cannot bring
myself to speak to you familiarly on any subject
connected with any of our sorrows-not even Paul,
Again  shile says to him, on  March 8th,
1858:
"I NURSERY, Sunday eve, March 8, 1868.
MY  BELOVED:  All alone,  save Eliza  in the
kitchen,    and the children all a sleep about me, while
I have been trying to imagine my state when I
shall a_-ain live with you and behold your precious
form.'This, I think, Ihave decided-no more chidings, scoldings! An inexpressible tenderness has
grown up in my soul towards you.  I never saw
my path as clear as now-that whatever you may
do, say, or be, it becometh me to be the Christian
wife and mother! The full meaning of those words,
when developed from a nature impotent as mine, I
most thoroughly understand.  1' I may lead my
children now to an intimate love and trust in God,
13 
OPENING FOR
He manifesting Himself to babes, as He has promised, then to this great source of happiness strong
bodies be added, I will risk intellectual training an e
knowedge.",I
Notwitbstanding the promises made January 26, 1868, and the promises of complete reformation which were often repeated in the
correspondence following that interview, it
is clear from that correspondence, and particularly from the letter of November 3, 1868,
that upon his return to New York, and falling
again under the influence of old associates
and subjected anew to temptations, he felt
himself unable to keep the vows he had
made in January previous.  This is made
evident from the correspondence of the parties
during the years  1869 and  1870.   Difficulties were thickening around him, rumors
of his dissolute life filled the air-it was impossible for Tilton to conceal any longer
from the world the life he lived. In December, 18,0, the storm which had been so long
gathering, burst upon him.   It struck him
in every quarter.   He found his business relations imperiled and his home shattered.
As early as 1866 Tilton began to shadow
forth in The Independent his religious and
social views.  They bred discontent everywhere, particularl y in the Northwest.
In 1867 there was an open revolt among
the Congregationial ministers of the Northwest, which resulted in starting, at Chicago,
a new paper, called Tlte Advance, intended
to supersede The Independent in that quarter.
The correspondence and negotiations which
led to the starting of that paper began soon
after Mr. Tilton commenced developing his
views in The Independent on religion and
social matters.   Several meetings were had
between Mr. Bowen and the proprietors of
that paper, and representative clergymen of
the Northwest. Mr. Bowen promised reform,
promised repeatedly to muzzle Tilton, and to
prevent the obnoxious utterances in his
paper; but after one or two promises and
failures ili that direction, the Congregational
clergymen of the Northwest started a new
and independent paper in Chicago.  Mr. Edward Beecher, the brother of the defendant,
then residing in Illinois, was active in this
oppo         sition to his paper and to  him.  At this
point, gentlemen, I desire again to refer you
to the remark of the defendant in his letter
in 1867, addressed to Mr. Tilton on the subject of religion, where he says: "I have
given up the idea of starting a new paper."
You will perceive, therefore, gentlemen, that
from the time of this political difference betweern Mr. Tilton and Mr. Beecher, resulting
out of the Cleveland letter, the subject of a
new palper in place of The Independent, and
in opposition to Tilton and his views, had
been the subject of conversation.   It is evident from the remark of Mr. Beecher
to Tilton, that Mr. Tilton under these facts
suspected Mr. Beecher of encouraging an op position to him here, and of becoming the
editor of an independent paper. He therefore
had for some time regarded Mr. Beecher as a
rival and was jealous of his fame.  He feared
his power, as  d id also  Mr.  Bowen, the owner
of the paper; and  this opposition and t his
jealousy increased  on the  part of Mr. Tilton
against Mr.  Beecher.  While they were    per sonal friends outwardly, the  public reputation of  Mr. Beech     er w   as continually   being
disparaged by Mr. Tilto n, and he represented
him as having reached the  zenith of his
poweed  r.  Henceforward  Mr.  Beecher  was to
dec lin e  in mind and pu bli c position, a nd
there was o nly one  man who co uld take his
place,  and tha t ma n, in  the estimation of
Theodore Tilton, was himself.
In 1868 another opposition  paper,   The
Church Union, was  started in  Ne w York.   In
1869 it was taken possession of by Ford &
Co., Mr. Beecher's publishers; its name
changed to Thte Christian Union, and in January, 1870, Mr. Beecher  became its editor.
Tilton now regarded  Beeche r a s his riva l and
was jealous of his fame. You see, therefore,
gentlemen, that by this time the rivalry between those two men-had become sharp and
well defined, at least so far as Tilton wan
concerned. The rapid increase of The Christiatn Union (for the name of the paper had
changed when Mr. Beecher took hold of it)
in circulation and its growing popularity
alarmed both Tilton and Bowen. Nevertheless Tilton grew bolder and more outspoken in the advocacy of his peculiar views
than ever.
In 1869 and 1870 rumors affecting Tilton's
moral purity began to reach Bowen; also,
rumors of Tilton's domestic difficulties
reached Bowen's ears. You have heard some
of those rumors referred to, gentlemen.   It,
is in evidence that lir. Bowen heard of the
Winsted affair. I do not stop to comment,
upon that transaction at this time, gentlemen. I do not stop to say whether Mr. Tilton was guilty or not of what was imputed
to him by the people of Winsted on that occasion. I only say that no mere child (as he
represents her to be in his letter from Tidioute to a Mr. Hastings in Winsted)-no,
mere child, but a young lady, fully developed,
twice the size of his wife, was the person
there referred to.   And I only say, without
imputing the slightest blame to the young
lady, that Mr. Tilton's conduct on that occasion was characterized by that degree of indiscretion that it provoked a horrible scandal
concerning himself at Winsted, Connecticut,
in 1869; and the rumor of that difficulty
had reached Mr. Bowen.  Also Mr. Tiltoa
tells you himself from the witness stand that
in 1870, about the time this storm-cloud burst
upon him, an evening paper in New York
published the fact that he wvas about to elope
14
TIIE DEFENSE.
'A
t 
THIE CHANGE OF FIVE YEARS WROUGHT IN MR. TILTON.  15
Such were Tilton's views at the time that
he emancipated himself from  the friendly
influence which had so long guided and
directed him.
with a woman, whom it named. Now, gentlemen, evening papers in New York, or
morning papers in New York, are not apt to
allude to scandals by  name,  particularly
when the names of such prominent persons
as Theodore Tilton are connected with them,
unless those  scandals  have been of long
standing, and have become a matter of news
to the editorial profession.   These scandals
filled the air in regard to Mr. Tilton, and
they had reached Mr. Bowen.  Mr. Bowen
saw that Mr. Tilton must be gotten rid of,
How to do it was the problem, which he was
not prepared at this time to bolve.  But fortunately for him, Tilton with his genius for
blundering, gave adequate cause for dismissal,
in an editorial which he published in The
Independent on the 1st of December, 1870,
committing the paper to the doctrine of Free
Love. That editorial has been produced in your
presence, gentlemen, and has been read to
you.   It will be the subject of further comment during the course of this trial.  I shall
refer to it here, and to other publications of
Mr. Tilton about this time, for the purpose
of showing that, when he was editor of what
was understood to be a religious newspaper,
he was still at heart the advocate of social
freedom, or what might be more  correctly
characterized as Free Love.
But, before reading this article from TIe
Independent, which led to Mr. Tilton's immediate retirement from it as its editor, I beg,
gentlemen, to read to you a letter from
Theodore Tilton to his wife, written Jan. 9,
1865, upon this same subject.  It was written
just about the time he assumed control of
that paper.  It was written at a time when
he was still under the influence and guiding force of this great mind, which had led
him from boyhood up to his present position.
I want to showyou, just on the eve of his emancipating himself from that influence, how he
regarded the sancity of the marriage relation,
and what views he held upon that subject.
January 9, 1865, in a letter written to his
wife, he says:
" I have lately been much more than ever impressed with the wonderful simplicity of God's
plan for binding together human society, namely,
by creating in each-breast some strong and dominating love for one human being.  Were it not for
the love of mother to child, or husband to wife,
our society, civilization, the peace and order of the
world-all would fall asunder in a day. Whatever
rends apart two lives which have been bound into
one is a cruelty to all mankind, a blow at the unity
of civil society. I begin to see as never                      before
that the center of the world to an honorable man
is his own  family, his wife's sitting room,
children's play-places, his home. I hope hereafter,
if God shouldspare my life, to bemorecarefulhow
my face is made to cast a shadow upon mylhome. I
have been too often negligent of your requests
that I should give more time to your dear self and
the children, as my heart now feels. I am ready to
promise never to seek my old selfish seclusions
again, but to spend my home life in your sweetest c
of all company."
But I now, gentlemen, i nvit e your attention
to the change which five years haid wrought
in the principles and character of Theodore
Tilton. For five years he had been editor of
The Independent, one of the leading and
most influential of the religious journals of
the country. He had denounced Mr. Beecher
politically in 1866 and had parted from hima
on all public and social questions. Personally
friendly, he had by this attack cut himself
off from that friendly, guiding mind which
had hitherto been his stay and support. His
position rendered him serviceable to the advocates of new doctrines. To uise him it waas
only necessary to fawn upon and court lim.
For five years he had been the victim of the
flatterer. For five years he had been the associate and boon companion of people of easy
virtue, who gild their lives with plausible
but corrupting theories. How continuously
those who surrounded him burned incense to
him and how remorselessly they used him,
the history of those five years and his disastrous fall at the end, bears sad and painful
evidence. On the 1st of December,'1870, the
same man who in 1865 saw with such
clearness that the marriage relation was
ordained of God, the cement of society, had
so fallen that he could publish in the paper
of which he was the editor, as the leading
editorial, the following. After asking what
is love und quoting from the poets, he says:
"To answer what breaks we must inquire wh-,t
makes the marriage bond.;' " Marriage without
love iasinagainst God-a  sin which, like other
sins, is to be repented of, ceased from, and put
away.  No ma tter with what solemn ceremony the
twain may have been made one, yet when  love
departs, then marriage ceases and divorce begins.
Thiisis the essence of Christ's idea. To say that
he granted divorce only for a gross and fleshly
crime, is to forget that he called-the eye a paramour and the heart a wanton's bed. This idea
(and this idea cannot but be true) carries with it,
as its logical sequence (and this, too, cannot but
be true), the irresistible conclusion that marriage,
if broken, and whether broken by the body or the
soul, is divorce. Infidelity of the body is not so
great a sin against marriage as infidelity of the
soUl."
THE CHANGE OF FIVE YEARS
WROUGHT IN MR. TILTON.
This was his utterance in December, 1870,
as the responsible editor of that great newspaper, The Independent. Of course it roused
a flame of indignation throughout this land
from one end of it to the other. No Chtistian
community would support a paper that advocated such doctrines, and Mr. Bowen, who
can appreciate tb e standard of value, if (as
Mr. Tilton says) he cannot the standard of 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
morals, soon discovered that it was important for him to be rid of this editor.  This
was the cautious utterance of one who at the
time accepted the doctrine of social freedom
as broadly as Victoria Woodhull herself.
You have heard the evidence, gentlemen,
of Mr. Tilton from the witness stand as to
the subject of his views upon this questton.
Afterthe article which I am about to read to
you had been put in evidence,   y                       ou saw how
the learned counsel opposed, sought to break
the force of that evidence by introducing
Theodore Tilton to swear, on his re-direct examination,                              t hat he held the marriage relation
in great sacredness; that with him it was
only the question of divorce, and he opposed
the strict rule adopted and adhered to in this
State upon that subject, and desired to liberalize our legislation, and make it compare with
that of New England or the Western States.
And you heard him testify on the witness
stand, gentlemen, in answer to the counsel,
and they felt it important to make him say,
I have no doubt, that he did not hold, and
never held, that the marriage relation was
above the law, but it was a matter which
should be regulated by the law, and the only
fault he found with the divorce laws of this
State was, that they were not sufficiently
liberal and they ought to be liberalized, but
still it was a matter to be regulated by law.
That was a material matter, gentlemen, of
evidence, and I propose to convict Theodore
Tilton right here, from his own writings, of
having falsified before you when he gave that
evidence.  And 1 propose to show from his
own published writings-writings  that he
has never repudiated, writings that he adheres
to to this day-that when he said from the
witness stand that he held as other men held,
that the laws of this State touching divorce
should be more liberal, but still that divorce
should be a matter to be regulated by law,
and not by the parties themselves, he test;i-i
fled to what is untrue. And I ask, gentlemen,
your careful attention now to this correspondence, which is among the most celebrated
correspondence that Mr. Theodore Tiltonever
had in his life; I ask your careful attention
to his utterances upon that subject.  Ho  is
answering Horace Greeley's objections to free
love, and that yo u may clearly understand the
meaning of his language, I shall read to you
Mr. Greeley's position, so that you may have
before your mind a clear conception of what
Mr. Tilton was uttering. Mr. Greeley says;
feels himself her intellectual superior. Among
his acquaintances is a younger, fairer, fresher
woman, not so richly dowered with worldly wealth,
who admires and is admired by him-who, in fact,
is willing, if invited, to be his' affinity,' and he is
more than willing that she shall.  If they'take
up' with each other, "I' takeup' is quoted; seems
o be an understood phrase with the free lovers;1
"their arrangement, or whatever you please to
call it, is just what I execrate as'Free Love.'
You know that such alliances exist. I feel that
they are abhorred of God and a chief cause of
human degradation, f  a mily disruption and general
wretchedness. In short, I hold the man who has
sworn to love and cherish his one woman till death
notfree to love another while that woman lives
and strives to fulfil toward him the duties of a
loving wife. Hence, I intensely hate I Free Love,'
and Ihate all inculcation that a marriage may
rihtfullv be dissolved, except for flagrant, de
liberate'adultery, while husband and wife both
live."
"III. Ajust inference from your letter is that 1 advocate Free Love. On the contrary I stiffly oppose
it. The latest bulletin of Mr.Stephen Pearl Andrews
castigates me because I hold that the heart's ideal
is monogamic marriage-the supreme love of one
man for one woman through life, and, I hope,
beyond death. But this is only my own view; i
do not judge for others.  FLrthermore, I hold
that love, and love only, constitutes marriage,
that marriage makes the bond, not the bond marriage* and that as the contract is to "love a,ud
honor," so when the love and honor end, the contract dissolves, and the marriage ceases.
I would no more permit the law of the land to enchain me to a woman whom I did not love or who
did not love me, than I would permit the same law
to handcuff me as a slave to a master on a plantation.'here are higher laws than civil  statutes
and I am a rebel against the State's too impertinent interference between man and wife. Love
should be like religion-free from mandate by the
civil law."
Does that correspond  with  Mr. Tileon's o ath
tha t he ha s   given you on the witness stand,
that he thinks divorce should be regulated by
law?  Doe s  he  think re ligion, in a free
country, shoul      d be  regulated by law?
Mr. Tilton-Yes.
Mr. Beach-Never mind; don't interrupt.
Mr. Tracy-Does  he  thin k  that  whe ther
you are a  member of   this  chur ch or that
church should be a subject regulated by law?
Does he think if you desire to withdraw your
relations with  one church and  join an other,
that the law  should prohibit yo u from doing
that; does  he think the  law should under -
take to regulate in a free country a man's
relations to the church and to regulate his
religion? No, but he places divorce on the
same footing ras religion, and he says that
" love should be like religion, free from the
mandate of the civil law." And it is important, gentlemen, that you heed the discrepancy between this publication of Mr. Tilton,
" I. You ask me what I mean by' Free Love.' Let
me illustrate:
"Here are a husband and wife, each fifty years
old, who have lived in wedlock a quarter of a century, and had six or eight children, of whom half
survive. The pains and cares of maternity have
nearly worn out the wife, while the husband is
still mn the prime of manly vigor and strength.
-He has filled a wider sphere and enjoyed better opportunities for mental culture than c-he has, and
16
That was Mr. Greeley's denunciation of free
love, and that was the free love that he
execrated. Now, let us see what Mr. Tilton!s
reply to that is. s I now read the third paragraph of Mr.. Tilton'r. reply. which is as
follows. 
THE CIIANGE OF FIVE YEARS AVROUG]HT IN MIR. TILTON.
made in his correspondence with Mr. Greeley,
a nd his statement of his own views upon the
witness stand; because, as I shall show youi
further on in this opening, if you are satis fied that Mr. Tilton or any other witness who
may be introduced in this case has deliberate ly falsified upon any material matter here,
his whole evidence is to be rejected; in other
words, you cannot rely upon any part of the
evidence of a witness who has deliberately
given false evidence upon any material point.
And therefore, if you are convinced that the
plaintiff in this case, feeling the pressure from
his own counsel of the necessity of placing a
differet't view upon his convictions touching
marriage and divorce than he had placed in
his own publications, came in here to state
them as he does not' believe them, that of
itself would justify you in rejecting every thing that he has testified to from the        w  it      ness
stand; indeed it world be your duty to do so.
We have now, gentlemen, traced the rise
and progress of Theodore Tilton from the
time when, a boy, he wis a reporter upon
the newspaper press, to one of the proudest
editorial chairs in the country, a station for
which he was educated and fitted by this de fendant and by him elevated to that lofty
position of power and influence.  But his star
Itas culminated; and henceforward it will be
our painful duty to trace the disastrous fall
of this man, whose early life was so full of
promise.  Previous to the publication of the
editorial in The Independent, so far as M3r.
B e e c h e r knew, and so far       as the worll   knew,
no                        trouble had occurred between Tilt on and
his                        wife. They were apparently living in
perfect peace.  Moulton, the intimate friend
of the family, had seen nothing and suspected nothing.   Mrs. Bradshaw,  the  intimate friend of both husband and wife, who
passed much of her time at their house, had
discov ered no unhappiness  between them,
and, I may add, did not discover any until
after the publication, lknown a,s the Woodhull
Scandal.  But in the early days of December,
and before Mr. Tilton had pulblished his valedclictory as editor of The Independent, there
caie to this defendant a message from Mr.
Tilon, borne to him by the young girl. Bessie
Turner, which greatly surprised him. He was
informed that Mrs. Tilton had left her home
and her husband, and desired to consult him      a
on the subject of separation.  The nature of
the wrongs  of which she complained was
made known to him by the bearer of the messagre, who, with downcast eyes, informed Mr.
Beecher also that Mr. Tilton had twice attempted her vir'ue.
Although Mr. Tilton and Mr. Beecher had
long been separated on  public and  social
questions, yet personally they had always
been friends, and Tilton encouraged Beecher's
visits to his family.   In 1867, by a letter
which has been given in evidence, MIr. Tilton,
2
MwY  DARLNG:   *  * * I, am sorry to hear that
Mr. Beecher had a poor house inl Brooklyn. In
view of his kind attentions to you this Winter, all
my old love for him has revived, and my heart
would once more greet him as of old. I sometimes
quarrel with my friends on the surface, but never at
the bottom. With y(ourself, O friend of all friends I
I am in perpetual love.
W  "Q. At the beginning of the acquaintance of Mr.
ZBeecher with your  family-not with you or your
wife, bus with your family-did not you invite him
frequently to yoir house? A. Yes, sir; and I was
always very proud when he came.
'Q. Did you not say to him that you desired him
to visit you house frequently? A. I did, and always
scol(led him becaus he  he did not come  oftener.
During th e first part of our life we were  in Oxfor d
st      reet, so far aay  that    he very rarely came; the fre quency of his visits took place after I purchased the
house in Livingston street" [whici, gentlemen,
you will remember was in   Oct ober,  1866- s o the
frequency of Mr.  Beecber's visits to    Mr. Tilton's
family, according to Mr. Tilton, did not begin until
1866.  1He visited occasionally at the earnest solici.
tati on of  e. Tilton, but not as often as Mfr. Tilton
desired; but when the latter came to reside nearer
to him, he acceded to Mr. Tilto:i's re aest and vis.
ited him at his house more frequently.]
"Q. Did you n ot say that there was a little woman
at your house that loved him dearly? A. I did,
many a time;  I always wanted him to come
oftcrer.
'Q. You frecquently spoke to him of the high e-s
teem and affection that your wife bore to him, did
you not? A. I did; he Knew it and I knew it.
"Q. You always knew it? A. I cannot say that
I always did; because at first, during the  early
years of my married life, I felt that MIr. Beecher
rather slighted my family; he was intimate with
me, and I think  loved me; but  he did not use to
come very often to my house, and it did not please
me; I wanted him to come oftener.
" Q. And it wounded you, did it not I A. I can.
not say that I was wounded; 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 him, and it was a slow process by which he
obtained her confidence so that she could talk with
him. 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
had a higher regard for than for Mrs. Tilton.
a Q. And did she not have a high regard for him
also I A. Yes.
" Q. And that was known to you, too? A. That
was known to me, and I was very glad of it.
II Q. Did you urge him to come when you were off
lecruringV  A. I did.
"Q. Did not you impress upon Mr. Beecher the necessity and desire that you tad that ho would call
upon your family and see your wife frequently dur.
ing your absence I A. I did."
17
then West, answering a letter of I)is wife
which informed him of Mr. Beecher's visits
to her duridg that absence, says:
Yours,
TNV,ODORE.
And on -,Ar. Tilton's exa mination before the
Investigating Committee of the Church he
t,,stific(i at length on the -,ubject of Mr.
Beecher's relations to his family, how they
originated, and how they were continued from
time to time. On that investigation there
were ptit to )4m the following questions: 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
ration at once.  She declared that she never
would  live  with  a man  an hou    r  who had
he a ped up on   her    one q uarte r  th e indignities
that Theodore  Tilton had he aped uponl his
wife for years. But Mr. Beecher hesitated, as
became  the cautious pastor      and t he sincere
friend, to advise so radical a me-)sure as the
separation of husband   and   wife.   It was a
matter  of consultation  between him a nd his
wife; and before lie would determiniie it, gentlemen, lie called into his counsel, George A.
Bell, one of the most prominent men of his
church, whom the plaintiff has put upon the
witness stand, for advice upon that subject.
A consultation was had, and after much reluctance Mr. Beecher concurred in the opinion of his wife and advised a separation.
And, right here, gentlemen of the jury, I
ask you to consider for one moment whether
this conduct which we shall lay before you,
which has already been proved, and on which
we shall give f urther evidence, furnishes you
evidence of the guilt or innocence of these
parties? Rememriber, now, that the theoryof
the plaintiff's case is, that he had had a
knowledge of the wrongs which Mr. Beecher
had inflicted upon him since the July previous. Now, here is the wife leaving her husbandl ia the following December, and going
to her alleged paramour for advice as to
whether she should separate f,'om him or not.
More, that alleged paramour advises separa,tion. Do you believe for a moment, gentlemen, that if either of these parties had been
conscious of guilt, they would have been
betrayed into such indiscreet action as
this? Is it possible that a woman guilty herself, and yet determined to separate from her
husband, would go to her paramour for advice
upon that subject? Is he the friend she would
seek for counsel? and do you believe that
that paramour would hav e advised a separation, with the thought of guilt fresh in his
mind? Would he not have seen in it at
once his own destruction? More thorn that,
gentlemen, it is confessed in this case, testified to by the plaintiff, stands undisputed,
that, notwithstanding these repeated interviews that occurred between Mrs. Tilton
and Mr. Beecher at this time, she never
communicated to him the fact that she
had made any confession to her husband, or
revealed to him anything touching their relations? Is it possible, if they had been guilty,
that  she would not have told Mr. Beecher
that she had disclosed their relations to her
husband? Do you think that a woman maintaining this life of sin, and confessing it to
her husband, would not make haste to lay
before her paramour the fact of that confession? Would she not warn him of the danger lie was in? Would she not tell him, " I
have confessed to  my  husband;  and if lie
cuts you, or is hostile to you, you will understand the cause of it. Beware, for you are
So, gentlemen, if there is any person responsible for the visits which Mr. Beecher
has paid to the family of Theodore Tilton,
that person is Theodore  Tilton  himself.
From the beginniqg to the end of their acquaintance, it was always a matter of solicitation and urgency onil his part that Mr. Beecher
should make  more frequent visits at his
house and to his family, not only when Mr.
Tilton was present but when he was absent
also. The breath of suspicion never crossed
the mind of Theodore Tilton, either in regard
to the purity of his wife or to the integrity
of Henry Ward Beecher.  He knew the motive that led to those visits on the part of Mr.
Beecher, and why the visits were desired on
the part of his wife. He knew that it was her
reverence for him as a religious teacher, as
her pastor, as her comfort and consolation in
the hour of her deep affliction and sorrow on
account of the change in his own religious
sentiments and social views; he knew it,
Understood it all; and the fact that  Mr.
Beecher visited at his house was niever a subject of hostile comment or thought upon his
part, and never excited in his breast anything
but pleasure, as he himself tells you from the
witness stand, and told the Committee in the
examination from which I am now reading.
As proof of that, gentlemen, I only need refer
to one fact given in evidence by Theodore
Tilton as late as 1869, when he tells you that
he expended $500 for the portrait of Henry
Ward Beecher, that he might hang it in his
parlor, as evidence to all who came within
his walls of the esteem, love and affection
that lie bore towards the one who had been
to him more than friend or elder brother.
Me. Beecher, therefore, retaining always
this relation of personal friendship with Mr.
Tilton and his family, received in the early
days of December, 1870, this message from:
Mrs. Tilton.  It shocked him, but he obeyed
the summons.  He went to the house of her
mother and saw her.  From her own lips he
learned the sorrows of her life, of which she
had told him something, although she had
concealed the most of her troubles and difficulties from him.  He found that she had
quit her home, and, concurring with her
mother, she did not intend to return to that
home.  Mr. Beecher, as is his custom in such
cases, preferred that his wife should see and
confer with Mrs. Tilton, because she could
learn from her many things which modesty,
perhaps, would restrain her from disclosing
to a man. He asked permission to bring Mrs.
Beecher to visit Mrs. Tilton; and, Mrs. Tilton
consenting, Mr. Beeclier turned the case of
Elizabeth Tilton, separated from  her home
and threatening to leave her husband, over
to lhis wife. She went there and heard the
story of sorrow and affliction, and she came
back and reported it to her husband.  Mrs.
Bcechcr had no hesitation in advising a sepa
18
11 
RUPTURE AND COMPACT BETWEEN BOWEN AND TILTON.
in danger"?  And yet, I say, it stands con ceded here that Mr. Beecher was entirely
ignorant of the fact of any pretended disclo sure by the wife to the husband until it was
communicated to him by the plaintiff himself
in that interview on the thirtieth of Decem ber, at Mr. Moulton's house.  But now, gen tlemen, don't you think that, if Mr. Beecher
had been conscious of guilt when he was sent
for by this l:dy, and was informed by her
that she had separated from her husband,
don't you think tile first word he would have
said to her would  have been, "My  dear
woman, do you know what you are doing?
Are you conscious of the danger to which you
are exposing me and exposing yourself?  If
you separate from your husband, covered all
over as you know you are with guilt, do you
not suppose that, in the litigation that will
arise out of the separation, your guilt will be
discovered?"  Can it be possible that a man
of the ability and m:ature years of Henry
Ward  Beecher would have gone into this
house and given this advice, and never made
such a suggestion to this woman?  And yet
he gives the advice that she should separate.
I read you, gentlemen, a note that he handed
his wife on the last visit thatshe wasto make
to Mrs. Tilton on this occasion.  It had been,
as I have said, a subject of consultation. She
was about leaving. There were visitors in the
back parlor, so that they could not talk, and
Mr. Beecher wrote to his wife and gave her
this note:  "I incline to think that your
view is right, that a separation and settlement of support will be wisest, and that in
his present desperate s,ate her presence near
him is far more likely to produce hatred
than her absence."  That was the note which
he gave to his wife when she left his house
to pay the last visit to Mrs. Tilton.
But events thicken. That was along about
the 15th or 16th of Decemnber.  Tilton bad
published this offensive article in The Independent on the first, and he had been deposed.
But, to patch up a peace with Bowen, he had
entered into two contracts with him by which
he was to serve as editor of The Brooklyn
Union for five years, and as chief editor of
The Independent for two  years, at $5,000 a
year for each.  Those contracts were signed
on the 20th.  His valedictory was published
on the 22d of December, the contracts to
take effect on the first of January following.
On the 22d of December, gentlemen, the very
d,y that his valedictory was published in The
Independent, Theodore Tilton seized his child,
in the absence of his wife, and by force took
it home, sick and suffering,-and thus compelled the return of his wife to his house.
On the night of the 24th, she suffers a miscarriage, and goes upon her sick bed, from
which she does lnot rise until after January
1st, when the most important of these eventful scenes have transpired.
While these scenes were transpiring in the
domestic affairs of Tilton, Bowen was not
idle.  The article of December 1st had satis fied him that he must be rid of Tilton as
editor of The Independent: \ et lie was afraid
of Beecher and thie Christian Union. I have
said to you, gentlemen, that Mr. Beecher
became editor of the Christian, UYniort in April,
1870, and the circulation of thait paper sprang
up as if by magic, and was a menace both to
Mr. Tilton and Mr. Bowen. To remove Til ton absolutely, who had so long been the
ruling spirit of the paper, was a dangerous
experiment. If discharged, Tilton, for aught
B(wen knew, might be employed by the
Christian UTnion; and Tilton knew too much
about Bowen to be permitted to become all
ally of Beecher At this time, Bowen saw no
alternative but to depose him from power and
yet retain him in his employment. Hence
the two contracts executed -,bout December
20, by which he was  to be editor of The
Union for five years, at $5,000 per year, and
chief contributor of The Independent. His
valedictory as editor was published December
22. So soon as people saw that Bowen had
broken with Tilton so far as to depose him as
editor, the stories affecting Tilton's character
came down upon Bowen, as Tilton himself
testifies,  like an  avalanche.   Bowen was
alarmed; he doubted whether it was possible
to retain Tilton in any capacity upon either
paper.  He talked with Oliver Johnson, their
mutual friend, who solicited for Tilton an
oppo,'tunity for an explanation. This was
granted, and it led to the now celebrated
meeting at Bowen's house on December 26,
1870-Oli ver Johnson, Tilton and Bowen present. That interview, gentlemen, has been
described to you. Its object and purpose
was to enable Tiltoni to explain the stories
which had been planted in Bowen's ears
against  him.   The  interview  began  in
rather high  spirits., Tilton mounted  his
high horse and demanded an investigation,
and to be confronted with his accusers;
but Boweni met him boldly. He told him
that he knew his life; and in a very short
time he satisfied Tilton that the last thing
that he desired was an investigation. Tilton
saw that the game of bluff could not be
played with Bowen, and he tried a new line
of tactics. Knowing Bowen's fear and
hatred of Beecher, lie suggested the danger
TheIndependent was in from The Christian
Union, and l he importance of dethroning
Beecher; and nothing could have'been suggested to Bowen so agreeable as that. Stories
affecting the moral characters of hiis editors
were a matter of light consequence compai ed
with the suggestion of the (isplacingof Beecher
from The Christian Union, and the crippling
19
THE RUPTURE AND THE COMPACT BE' -
TWEEN MR. BONVEN AND MR. -RILTON, 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
of that paper as a business rival.  Of course,
he listened with eager ear to any suggestion
that Tilton could make on that subject. Tilton
was familiar with Bowen's scandals against
Beecher,  b ecaus e  they   had     often  been                    the
subject of conversat       ion betwee                 n them.  He
referred                         to them, to        the injury that Bowen
had suffered at the hands  of Beecher ill business rel     ations in times gone by,  and               all that;
and finally he suggested    that he, too, had a
pe       rsonal grievance against Beecher.  That
was news to   Bowen; I re ne ver hal        heard of it
before, and he  eagerly besought Tilton to tell
him wha     t           it was; a rud Tilton fina        lly  told him
th          at Mr.                  Beecher had been guilty of unhandsome proposalstohiswife.  Bowen was quick
to discover the situation.
H e  had no scandals         against B  eech er that
he   dared undertake  t he r         esponsibility of
establishing.   I           do not  k now, g entle men,
how far the stori         es        o      r the reports which attribute th e au thor ship o f scandals against Mr.
Beecher to Mr. Bowen are t          r       ue.  I            have my
own opinion that they are very much exagg erated.   I have my opinion and belief
that, when this thing is carefully investigatted, it will be found that Theodore Tilton is
the  true sourc     e  of most    of th e scandals
th at have been put          in circulation against
Henry W         ar d  Beecher.  He is the man  whose
ability                     at   scheming, whose facility at insinuation, whose skill to produce results in a
roundabout way, by                       which he  covers his
tracks, lead me to  suspect that he is l         argely
the  author       of t hese scandals, and                the scandals
which Henry C. Bowen has repeated to others.
Thus,  scandals    wh ich p        erhaps  Henry C.
Bowen would come to            believe ifter havinc
hear d th em repeated ye ar  after year, have
their tl'ue origin      in th  e  fertile brain of the
plaintiff.   How  that  may be,  I do not
know; it is n rot necessary for us to inquire, in
this proceeding. Suffice it to say, gentlemen,
that Henry C. Bowen had no scandal against
Mr. Beecher   which  he would  ever  dare to
b         r      ing to the test of an investigation; but
when Tilton told him that Henry Ward
Beecher              had been  guilty of unhands ome proposals            to his wife, that furnished him with theature      th e
first tangible bit                       o f     evidence which had ever
conlie t   o him warranting th e  belie   f         that Mr.
Beecher could be atta(cked, and attacked
-with evidence against  him; and   h                             e suzgested  the letter which Mr.      Tilton wrote
on that occasion   t o  M      r. Beecher,              in which
he says: "For reasons which you explicitly understand, I demand that you quit
Plymouth Church and leave Brooklyn as a
r esidence. "  That letter, Tilton says, was an
open letter when he wrote it and left it with
lMIr. Bowen. He says Henry C. Bowen not
only agreed to bear that open letter to
Beecher, but to support it with evidence, and
to assume the fight find carry it on. Tiltel was perfectly willing to send a fire-brand
into the camp, if Bowen would take care of
the conflict afterwards. To save his contracts
with Bowen, to save his salary of from ten to
twelve thousand dollars a year, he was willing to make a union between himself and
Bowen to attack Beecher; so he consented to
w rite that letter, and Bowen was to bear it
to Beecher.' This he did, as has been disclosed by the evidence; and further evidence
will be  given you on that subject.
Gentlemen, I now, propose to make clear
to you what has hitherto been one of the
great mysteries involved in this controversy.
I refer to what Moulton calls the treachery
of Henry C. Bowen in not only refusing to
sustain the demand made in the letter which
he bore to Beecher, but also in promisirg
Beecher his friendship in the threatened contest with  Tilton.   I have already indicated
Bowen's desire to be lid,f Tilton; but the
prosperity of The Independent was menaced
by The Clhristian Union and by Beecher, and
he hesitated to dismiss Tilton absolutely from
his service, lest he might join Beecher against
Bowen and The Independent. Tilton, anxious
to save his contracts, was willing to join in
a war upon Beecher, and thereby cement
himself to Bowen. Such a suggestion kindled
the embers long smouldering in Bowen's
bosom into aflame.   Tilton, in his zeal to
fan the flame, which he himself had started
into life, declared that he too had a personal
grievance against Beecher; for Beecher; he
said, had made unhandsome proposals to his
wife.
The Court then adjourned until Thursday
morning at 11 o'clock.
20
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1876.
38tll DAY.
GENTLF,MEN OF THIF, JU]AY: We now approach a stage of this case where it is important for us to consider the nature of the action,
the rules which judicial experience has found
it necessary to establish in the trial of this
class of cases, in order that the truth may
prevail, and collusion, deceit and falsehood
be defeated. First, the charge of adultery is
to be tried by the rules applicable to crimes.
The charge involved here is in the mature of
a crime; the burden of proof is upon tb e prosecution, and they are bound to make out
their case beyond a reasonable doubt. It is
not for this defendant to prove, that he is
not guilty of this offense; it is for the prosecution to I)rove that be is. As you perceive,
gentlemen, from the very nature of the case,
it is one where affirmative evidence of innocence is impossible, except from the testimony
of the party implicated. No man, whoever
he may be, charged with such an offense as
this, can introduce affirmative evidence upon
the witnew stand that iie ii not guilty of the
I 
THE PLAINTIFF'S EVIDENCE WVEIGHED AND DECLARED WANTING. 21
offense, for it is impossible for ally witness
save himself to testify that he did not com     mit it.  Whenever such an accusation is
made against any man and woman residin         tl
in the same city, running over a long period
of time, you see how utterly impossible it is
that any witness could come upon the wit     ness stand and say: "Of my own knowledge
I know that this accusation is untrue."   Se     lect the most estimable man within your
knowledge, gentlemen, and bring a charge
against him; let any person however worth     less, charge him with having visited houses
of ill-fame, for instance, in the city of New
York, during a period of sixteen months.
If he has resided in the city of New York
during that time, what can lie do in answer
to such a charge as that but say it was untrue,
and rely upon the insufficiency of the evi     dence to establish his guilt? It is utterly im     possible for him to call witnesses who can
say that this man did not visit these houses; 
he cannot do that from the very nature of
the case.  It is an attempt to prove a nega     tive, which it is very difficult under any cir     cunistances to establish.  From the very na     ture of this case, therefore, when this de     fendant is accused of this crime committed
with a lady who was his acquaintance, whom
it is admitted he frequently visited at her
house, at the solicitation of her husband-all
he can do is to interpose his word of denial
and  rest upon  his established  character,
which he has made during the last thirty
years in your midst.   The evidence of guilt
must be removed from all suspicion; it must
be evidencefree from doubt; it must be evi    dence that carries home to your consciences
conviction of tl  e truth of the offense charged,
or you are bound by the oaths you have
taken to render a verdict here for this de    fendant.
The charge of adultery-s not a new one in
our courts of justice.   It is a matter of fre    quent occurrence, and the rules of law which
judicial experience has established in order to
ascertain the truth in this class of cases are
well defined and  well understood.   This
chaige may be established. first, by direct
evidence of witnesses who saw the act.  I
need not say to you, gentlemen, that there is
no such evidence pretended in this case.
Second, it may be established by circumstain    tial evidence leading irresistibly to the con    clusion that the act has been committed.
There is no evidence worthy of the name
which falls under that head in the case now
on trial. These parties have been acquainted
for twenty years. During all that time this
lady lhts been a member of the Church of
which this defendant is the pastor.  During
all that time they have been acquaint    ances and friends. During all that time,
up to within the last four years at least,
the pastor anid the husband were in
The  plaintiff accuses his wife now, atnd
seeks to  blast  her cha racte r; but dur ing all
t hese  years he  is un able  to l ay  his hand upon
a s ingle well  authenticated fact which convicts th is white-souled wo ma n of the slightest
impropriety of conduct in connection with
her pastor.    Wi ll it b3 said that I forget  the
evidence? Will it be said that I do not remember Kate  Carey, the woman brought from
the lazar house   of New York    city, reeking
with  prostitution and disease, twice its  inmate
within th re e  months,  discharged everywhere
she has been employed for intoxication or
some improper conduct, who testifies to the
fact that on some occasion she saw this plaintiff's wife sitting upon the knee of the defendant? Gentlemen, I shall not insult your
good sense by supposing that twelve honestminded men would blast a reputation such as
Heniry Ward Beecher's and that of a woman
of the character that this plaintiff gives his
wife for twenty years, upon the word of such
a woman as Kate Carey; Carey is the name, I
believe, or Smith; which is it?
Mr. Shearman-Smith; Carey alias Smith.
Mr. Beach-She gave her name as Kate
Carey Smith on the stand.
Mr. Tracy-Then, gentlemen, what does
that circumstance amount to if it is true.
What were the facts connected with her testimony which shows the improbability of the
story that she tells herself?  Why, she says
to you, that stce came down into the diningroom one day for a drink of water, when the
doors between the dining-room and the parlor were wide open, and as she walked in she
saw the plaintiffs wife sitting upon the knee
of the defendant, and she heard him say to
her: " Elizabeth, how do vou feel? " and she
said:  " Dear father, so so. "   [Laughter.]
Well., gentlemen, you only needed that last
expression to show that this was a matter
that was coined from tlA brain of this simpleminded woman.   It was natural f,or her toaddress her priest by the name of " Father,"
and therefore when she comes to make this
plaintiff's wife address her minister she uses
the same word that she would have used if
she had been addressing her own.   It is that
slight circumstance that is enough to show
tile improbability of the story which this
woman tells, upon her own showing. Btlt I
shall not dwell upon that, gentlemen.  It is
timate personal friends; he visited that
house at the solicitation of the husband;
and, beyond that fact, the fact that he came
to tire house of the plaintiff at his request,
there is not -t fact or circumstance worthy of
credit here wliicii tends to show in the slightest de,ree improper familiarity between these
partie;, much less a criminal act.
THE PLAINTIFF'S EVIDENCE WEIGHED
AND DECLARED WANTING. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
thought of impropriety on her part.  I refer
to Mrs. Moulton.   She says that she spent
four hours with this defendant in a bed-room,
left there by her husband,  Aye! more. She
testifies to a fact that  they have not yet
fastened on Eliz bethli Tilton.  She tells you
that while alone in that bed-room with this
defendant she kissed him.   Now, gentlemen,
supposing that they had got a servant who
coul  have testified to such facts as  that
agai nst  Mrs. Tilton and llr. Beecher.   Supposing they had found him tucked up on a
sofa with an Afghan, having an interview
in a bedroom  with this plaintiff's wife and
she kissing him, all testified to by a servant.
That, the counsel of the plaintiff would argue,
was evidence of guilt.   Yew you see that
when that fact is testified to by Mrs. Moulton
herself, against herself, it excites in the mind
of no honorable man even a suspicion against
that woman's virtue.   And you see, therefore,  what  familiarities and what liberties
virtuous women can take, and properly take,
with virtuous men, without exciting suspicion.   But there is no such  fact as this
against Elizabeth Tilton. I say, and I repeat
to you, that this case stands entirely destitute
of either class of evicdence usually relied upon
in cases of this description to convict this defendant.   It is confined entirely to the confessions of the defendant, written and oral,
mainly oral, for they have despaired of convicting him upon his letters, and, therefore,
they have endeavored to supplement them
by oral confessions. The effect of that class
of evidence I shall have occasion to consider
in a moment. But that class of evidence,
gentlemen, youi will bear in mind comes from
a single family, if I may count Tilton as a
member of the family of Moulton, as I
think I can safely from the evidence of both
himself and Mr. Moulton and Mrs. Moulton.
It comes from two conspirators against this
defendant; the plaintiff, his mutual friend,
and the mutual friend's wnife. No other witnesss appears to testify to oral confessions except these three.
unworthy, I repeat, of the serious considerationi of twelve honest men.
There is another circumstance which I am
not           permitted to forge    t, not on account of its
imp ort    a       e seidnce as evidence, gentlemen, in  this
case, for, as s uch, it amount s to nothing,
but on  account of the exhibition which was
m      ade by  the witness who came to testify to
it. I  refer    to th e  br other        of this plaintiffs
wife, who said she was his only sister, and
how  highly he regarded her, who came into
Cour    t      in co mpany wi              th this plaintiff, knowing
and realizing and telling you from the stand
that l i e knew nothing of his own knowledge
that could affect the reputation of these parties, u nless he should be permitted to make a
speech to y ou  from   the wit ne       ss stand and
c onnec      t with what  he   saw w hat he had heard
from s uch  women  as  Ka te Carey and   other
people-prostitutes, mal          e            and female  alike.
If         he    could repe a                   t these rumors and                      these
stories that he had heard,      then perhaps             his
evidenc, would have some significance; but
h          le kn ew perfectl y  well, and realized it, that
if h        e           wa s  perm itted to  testify only to w hat
he had seen, it amounted to nothing against
his sister.    And yet why did  he come here?
Why?   He was under no  obligation to come
here.  If he       had told the pla intiff, or rather,
permit  me t       o say, if he h ad t old t he senior
counsel        of the plaintiff that what he had seen
od a oun  t                                     o        l i would amount to nothing, he would have
been excused but i f              he could come            here and
be permitted to make a speech against his
sist   er, t hen he might p    o    ssibly prejudice your
minds  against her.  Now, what is th       e            s tory
he told? He says that on one occasionwhen, he don't-know and cannot tell-he
went      int     o  the parlor  of his sister          one mornin-h, and on opening t       he door saw Mir. B eecher
sitting in- a chair, and saw his sister moving
away from his direction-moving rapidly, he
says, with her face apparently flushed, and
that is all he saw! They were in the parlors,
gentlemen, where a virtuous woman receives
an honorable guest. They were in no bedroom, and Mr. Beecher was sitting quietly;
no movement on his part, gentlemen, no
surprise could this man testify to at all, and
he practically testified to none against his
sister. How long had his sister been in that
room? He does not know. Where did she
come from, and what had she been doing
before he went in?  He does not know.  He
saw her moving away. How far she was
flom him he does not know. And is there
any evidence of guilt in that, gentlemen? Is
that not a thing that is likely to happen to
anybody a thousand times.
Why, let me refer you to the evidence of
a virtuous woman, given from this witness
stand by herself, her own confession of an
interview that she had with this defendant
without provoking a suspicion on the part of
her husband of impropriety, and without a
And right here, gentlemen, I de sire   to call
your attention to aremarkable omission in this
case, quite as remarkable as anything tllat
has been produced in it.  You were notifit d
union the opening of this case by the plaintiff's counsel, that the confessions of this defendant would not be confined to a single
family, nor to;} single instance; that they
would call a witness who would claim to be
outside of this case. a disinterested witness, as
they said, who would testify to the confesfessions of Mr. Beecher, and they named
their witness-Frank Carpenter.  But. is he
lere? Has he been placed upon  the witnesi
stand? Before I close, gentlemen, and be
22
I
I
MR. CARPENTER', ABSENCE. 
THE LAW ON ORAL CONFESSIONS.
fore this case closes, we will show you why
Frank Carpenter was not produced uipon the
witness stand in this case.  In the first place,
he could not testify to any confessions of
Henry Ward  Beecher,  and in the second
place, we will show that, if they had produced him, we would have blasted their case
with this man's evidence, and the evidence
that we should have brought against him.
The reasons why they have omitted him are
cogent and powerful, as you will see.  He is
a link in the conspiracy that they have been
drawing around this d fendant for five years,
and with him we would have establishedl it.
Without him they hope that they have broken
the chain of circumstantial evidence, but we
will show them that they are disappointed in
their expectations.
facts and circumstances calculated to excite
suspicion and produce a conviction of guilt.
This case is made to rest entirel  y upon  the
supposed confessions of the defendant. So
far as the case depends upon alleged confessions it is to be observed that there are two
classes, the letters of the defendant and the
reports given by witnesses of his oral confessions. The letters are in evidence and will
speak for themselves. The alleged oral confessions are an entirely different kind of evidence, as such evidence is always tested by
the law with the most careful scrutiny. My
associate, Judge Porter, will relieve me by
reading the rules of law applicable to this
class of evideneoral confessions.
Mr. Porter-Our first citation in  this connection, your Honor, is from Morris v. Miller
(4 Burrows, 2,049). The action was crim.
con.  Lord Mansfield, in delivering the opinion of the Court, says:
" This is a sort of criminal action.  There is no
way  of punishing the crime at  common law.  It
shoul(I not depend upon the mere reputation of a
marriage which arises from the conduct or declarations of the plaintiff himself. In prosecutions
for bigamy a marriage in fact iiust be proved.
No inconvenience can happen by this determination; but inconvenience might arise by a contrary
determination, which might render persons liable
to actions founded upon evidence made by the per.
sons themselves who should bring the action."
The next citation of Mr. Tracy is from
Dillon v. Dillon  (1 Note  Ece. Cas., 442). This
was a suit for divorce.   Dr.   Lushington, in
delivering the opinion,  s,ys:
" This, as concerns the wife, is not a civil, but in
effect a criminal proceeding. If there is any doubt,
she is entitled to the benefit of it. The evidence as
to the fact, on the part of the husband, may, per,.
haps, preponderate: but I cannot say that the proof
is free from reasonable' doubt."
The plaintiff in this case, relying, therefore, mainly on the oral confessions of this
defendant, it becomes important, gentlemen,
for you to consider, and for the Court to consider, the legal effect of this class of evidence,
and it is to that question that I desire to
invite your attention before I proceed with
a further history of thi, case-before I begin
to unravel the network that this plaintiff with
his fertile brain, stimulated and aided by his
mutual friend, has for four years been weaving around the feet of my unfortunate client.
We concede, gentlemen, that, in connection
with direct or circumstantial evidence, the
oral admissions of the accused are pertinent.
Wherever circumstantial evidence is relied
uponi  the  circumstances,  taken together,
must establish  the following  three facts:
First, the criminal disposition of the parties
charged; second, a like disposition on the
part of the paramour; third, an opportunity
to commit the act.  These three facts must
be reasonably approximate in point of time,
and the opportunity must be one characterized by circumstance pointing to guilt.  In
other words, guilt cannot be inferred from
the opportunity to commit adultery, unless
there is also evidence that at about the same
time there were acts of each party specifically
indicating a disposition to commit it.  It is
this class of evidence, gentlemen, which    is
usually relied upon  in courts of justice to
establish the fact of adultery.  In fact, this
class of circumstantial evidence, that is, the
relations of the parties, the frequency with
which they have been seen together, the improper places at which they have been seen,
the stealthy meetings of the parties-all of
this class of acts tending to show a disposition
to commit adultery-is the class of evidence
usually relied upon, and is seldom or never
wanting in any case of adultery charged in
good faith.  This is almost the only import
ant case on record where there is no proof of
" The testimony of Mrs. Berekman, the witness
for the plaintiff, is seriously affected by two considerations.  First, her  estimony is in favor of the
complainant; and it stands, so tar as these scenes
are concerned, alone and uncorroborated, while she
is seriously and positively  contr a dicted with  regard
to them by two witnesses, Sarah  Berckman and
Dr. Titsworth, These two witnesses may be untruthffl as to what they say, but they cannot be
mistaken about it. They certainly do know whether
the scenes described were true or not. Mra. Berck.
23
THE LAW ON ORAL CONFESSIONS.
The next citation is from Berckmans v.
Berckm,-tn,,- (17 New Jersey Equity Reports,
454). This was a proceeding for divorce on
the ground of adultery. Under the laws of
NewJersey the parties charged were admissible as witnesses to deny the charge. The, alleged paramour of the wife was sworn and denied the adultery. The adultery wits supported
by the direct evidence of a lady who professed
to have detected the parties in the act; an(i
this, supported by corroborating evidence of
opportunity, circumstance and suspicion of
adulterous disposition. The Court, in delivering the opinion, say: 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
man, the elder, may beuntruthful, and she may also
be mistaken. If the evidence of the three be elititled to a.i equal amount of credit and confidenee,
then the ev irence ot the defe,ise has entirely overthrown, by its positiveaes-,, rnd preponderance. that
of the c:)mplainaLt. It is true that these witnesses
oil the part of thei (etfeise have astrong inducement
to swe(ar as thiey do; but is not this also true with
regard to Mrs,'elc'iman? We  have no rule by
which to determine what notice or consideration
will most certainly i!nidice a person to perjure himself or he2rself. One might be tempted to ego it for a
mere money consideration; another, who could
not be purchased by nioney, might do it to save his
name and reputation from the charge of dishonor
and tlipgrace.  Another, who might care bat iittle
for either of these, might do it to gratify a most
malignant and insatiable lfe,ling of revenge or of
impla    cabl e      a  rdly un rel enting hat; and 1 do not  see
but what   ei       her of th      e s          e motives might be     as effectual il inducing a witnest to depar t  from  the truth
as   any of the others. and, jiudging    from     t he  developments   and  man ifestati ons to             be found in the evidence in the case, I h3rdly feel at liberty to say
that the defendant and Dr. Titsworth had stronger
inducements to depart from the truth than  MIrsBerc'cman herself. And, entirely aside fromu this
controversy, and everything connected with it. I
do not know but what their characters for truth and
veracity are as good as her's. Nor can I admit that
the mere charge ot crime is so far to destroy the
credit and character of a person as that he is not
entitled to credit when speaking under oath.  Such
a principle might ruit  the most exemplary people.
Surely if the charge is not true, it ought not to discredit the party; and, to permit to do so, is to assume that the charge is true; which we cannot do,
for that is the very thing to be proved."
The Judge then examined the evidence.
and ca-me to  the conclusion  that  it was
equally capable of two interpretations, and
therefore did not prove  the fact which was
there in issue.
The next citation is from 17 Abbott, Pr. R.,
58. In that case Judge Hloffman, who delivered the opinion, states the do,ctrine thus:
c'"The general rule that applies to the degree and
nature of the evidence demanded are too well
known to justify a statement in detail.  While
d   lirect proof of the actual commission of the crime
is not required, yet the approximate facts must
lead by a fair inference to a necessary conclusion.
'[his is not a necessary conclusion in a strict
mathematical or logical sense; the subject and conditions of the evidence do not admit of this  but
it must be,? conclusion so far inevitable as that the
supposition of innocence cannot by any just course
of reasoning be reconciled."
Oii the subject of oral confessions  the  authorities cited are.  filst, the case of-   v.
Merrill (6 Wend, 277); a leading case on the
subjectin the Cou,,t of Errors, where Chiancellor- Walw,)rth, in delivering the opinion of
the Court, has occasion to say:
" Again, evidence to establish a fact by the confessions of the party should always be scrutinized
and received with c:aution, as it is the most dangerous evidence that can be admitted in a Court of
Justice, and the most liable of abuse. Although
the witness is perfectly honest, it i impossible in
most cases for him to give the exact words in
mhich an admi-sion was made, and sometimes
even the transposition of the words of a party may
give a meaning entirely different  lrom that which
was intended to be conveyed to the witness."
The next citation is from  E:trle v.  Picket
(24 Com. Law Reports, 698).
The next of the authorities cited by Gen.
T    r     a     c    y      will be found in 3  Sand., S.  C. R., and
has                         relation to the force  of evidence that is
required on the part of a plaintiffbefore such
an accusation can receive the sanction either
of a court or of a jury.  It is the case of Ferguson v. Ferguson (3 Sand., S. C., 309).  In
delivering the opinion of the Court, Judge
Mason cites and gives the sanction  of                         the
Court to the proposition laid down by Judge
Stowell in the case of Loveden vs. Loveden
(2 Hagg. Consist. R., p. 1). It is in the following words:
ng words:                                              "In the eourse of this circuit, Mr. Justice Parke
several times observes that too great weight ought
"It is a fundamental rule that it is not necessary  nt to attach to evidence of what a party has been
"It is a, fundamental rule that it, is not necessary Spoe   ohv   ad si    eyfeunlhp
to prove the direct fact of adultery, becau    t tse, iads it very frequently hap
were otherwise, there is not one case in a hudred  pens not oly that the  itness has misudersto od
~~~~~~~in ~~~~which that                      the party has said, but that, by unintention                       -~ ~ ~~~~~~               ~ll leigafwo th exrsion really used.
rare, indeed, ihat the parties are surprised in the  ally altering a few of the expressions really used.
d rt fact of adltery   In every case  lot the  he gives an effect to the statement completely at
d rect fact of adtiltery. In every case almost the
fact is inferred from the circumstances that lead to  variance with what the party really did say."
it, by fair inferenc:~, as a necessary conclusiona
it, y fir nfeenc~, a  a ece  coclu';    The nex,, citatio~i is from Meyers v. Baker,
and unless this were the case, and unless this was      The net ctato   s from Meyers. Baker,
so held, no protection whatever could be given to  where the Court states the rule thus
marital right. What are the circonmstances whic'
lead to such a conclusion cannot be la d down un- "Proof of confessions of a party, in the presenee
versally, though many of them, of an obvious na   of the witnesses only, are of him  and the adverse
ture anid of more frequent occurrence, are to be   party,  although certainly competent  testimonv.
found in the ancient books.  The only general rule  ought to be weighed with great caution, because t
that can be laid down on the subject is that the  is impossible for the party to counteract it by other
circumstances must be such as would lead the   testimony, because the expressions used are easily
gu -rded discretio, of a reasonable and just man to   misunderstood or perverted, either through mistake
the conclusion  for it is not to lead a harsh and  or design, and because not the whole conversation,
intemperate jtds,ment, moving upon appearances  but only parts of it. are generally detailed by the
that are equally capable of two interpretations:   witness.  It is the muost dangerous species of tes.
neither is it to be a matter of artificlal r asonirg,I timony held competent by the law, and uniess the
judgilog upon such things differently from what    story told is probable in its nature, or is corroborwould strike the careful and sagacious considera-.  a,ted by ciroumstances, very little weight ix  due to
tion of. a discreet mind,"                           it."
24
Tho Cuurt proceeds:
" This rule, so s-mple and loosely stated, commedds itself to the approbation of everi mind, an([
its application toIthe present case N% ill ead us to.i
correct decision.' 
THE LAW ON ORAL CONFESSIONS.
a general recollection of a very early case
mentioned in a note, where he said that on
the  trial of  a  pa r ty for forgery,  a  witness, a
doctor, wag  examined, and the judge  had it
down on his  notes that th e witness said: " I
am the drawer, the acceptor and endorser of
the bill;" under three different names  the
witness himself stating himself to be guilty
of forgery; and while the judge was so stating to the jury from his notes, the counsel
interrupted him; but, like the judge in the
,  Pickwick case, he persisted in adhering to
his notes, and the witness was recalled, when
on inquiry of the Judge himself the witness
said that his testimony was, "I know the
dratwe  r, the acceptorand endorser of the bill."
Mr.  Porter-Your  Honor's reference  is
very striking, and reminds  me of a passage
which has been previously read, and which
will be borne in your Honor's recollection,
and as very pertinent to another proposition
of Gen. Tracy, that, "so far as the evidence is
to depend upon the circumstances whenever
there is an imputation of a criminal nature,
the circumstances must all be such as to exc l  ude the possibility of innocence, for other wise the law will presume against guilt," and
I think that comes in connection with the
very observation to which your Honor has re ferred.
Mr. Beach-Will my friend permit me to
read an additional sentence from Joy on Confessions, from which he has quoted? After
considering the  su bject    t o which my  friend,
Jud,e Porter, has drawn the attention of the
Court and Jury, this author says:
In  Joy  on Confessions (page  106) the
learned writer has embodied what perhaps is
the best stattement to be found in the English law upon this subject, anti, singularly
enough, it first appeared ila The Edinburgh
Review, being from the hand of that most
accomplished master of jurisprtudence who
redeemed to fame the name of Jeffreys.
" A modern writer remarks on this subject, that
'the imagination need not be taxed for extreme
cases, in which silence., equivocation. or even falsehood, the ordinary badges of guilt, would naturally
be found in company with innocence.  There are
many instances in which the truth, pr-operly brought
to light, would set free the accused, but his very
situation disqualifies him from doing j astice to his
own  statement.   Conscious of his rectitude, and
proud of his character, he is abashed, humiliated,
and confounded by the charge. The untoward
chances that have loaded him with suspicion, may
go on to his utter ruin; the false wlitnesses, who
have now established a "prima facie" case,'nay
ultimately convince his  judges.  That he  should
ever become an object of accusation, would have
struck him yesterday as moe im   possible than that
accusation should now lead to conviction.  The
last step seems far less violent than the first, and
the commencement of his progress is a fatal augury,
which teaches him to 4espair of its issue.'"
Mr. Porter-The last citation that Gen.
Tracy has marked for evidence is 1 Greenleaf
on Evidence, section 200.   The language of
Chiief-Justice Redfield in this portion of the
text is as follows: " In a somewhat extended
experience of jury trials we have been compelled to the conclusion that the most unreliable of all evidence is that of the oral admissions of the party.  And especially where
they purport to have been made during the
pendency of the action, or after the parties
were in a state of controversy. It is not uncommon for different witnesses of the same
conversations to give precisely opposite accounts of them; and in some instances it will
appear that the witness deposes to the statenient of one party as comting from the other.
It is not very encouraging to find a witness
of the best intentions repeating the declarations of the party in his own favor as the
fullest admissions of the utter falsity of his
claims. " 
Judge Neilson-Judge Porter, when you
and I were boys, we found that general principle cited in all the text-books, very much
after the form that you have put it.
Mr. Porter-In the form in which  the
judges have put it.   I have not been using
my owil language.
Judge Neilson-I mean, have read it; and
perhtps the best statement of that has been
found in Starkie on Evidence.  My general
recollection'of what le says is to the effect that this kind of evidence is dangerous;
first, because it may be misapprehended by
the person who hears it; in the tecond place,
it may not be well remembered; and third,
it may not be correctly stated.   And I have
" Whilst such anomalous  cases ought to render
courts and juries at all times extremely watchful of
every fact attendant on confessions of guilt, these
cases should never be invoked, or so urged as to invalidate indiscriminately all zanfessions put to the
jury, thus repudiating those salutary distinctions
which the Court, in the judicial exercise ofits duty,
shall be enabled to make. Such an use of these
anomalies, which should be regarded as mere exceptions, and which should speak only in the voice
of warning, is unprofessional and impolitic, and
should be regarded as offensive to the intelligence
both of the Court and jury."
Judge Neilson —The rule being that admissions
are to be taken with caution and scrutiny.
Mr. Tracy-Yes, if your Honor please; and
we do not argue, gentlemen, that all confessions are to be invalidated. We only ask
you to scrutinize the testimony by which the
pretended confessions of th is de fendant  are
proved or pretended to be proved, the probability that he had made them under the circumstances, and the motives of the witnesses
who testified to them to misrepresent or to
forget. We shall introduce some confessions,
prove(d by witnesses whose character you will
not doubt, and whose interests are not involved
in this litigation; and we shall ask you, gentlemen, to believe the confessions which we,
shall prove, provided you are satisfied with
25 
OPENING FORT
the witnesses, their character, their means of
knowing what they testify to, and their abil  ity to repeat accurately what they have heard;
and that they are influenced in giving their
evidence, by no motives except to state the
truth, the whole  truth, and  nothing but
the truth.   As you have just heard from
the authorities which  my associate has read
in your hearing, gentlemen, the testimony of
witnesses as to oral confessions is always no  toriously unreliable; but in this case it is
particularly so.  The testimony of this kind
comes exclusively from three witnesses-the
plaintiff,  the  "mutual  friend,"  and  the
"mutual friend's" wife.  Admissions of this
character always require corroboration; and
the corroboration must be of facts pointing
to guilt, which have been adduced by other
witnesses.  Before a jury can give effect to
oral confessions, they must be satisfied, first,
that the party who is alleged to have con  fessed was correctly understood by the wit ness, a rule which his Honor has just given
you, one of the most forcible illustrations of
showing how easy it is for a man  listening
attentively and desiring to recall accurately
what is said, to be mistaken.  You have
yourselves been witnesses to the numerous
contests which have arisen during  this trial
between counsel experienced in remembering
what witnesses say and repeating it accurate ly,      a s to what a  particular witness has said,
or has not said onl this trial. So, with a wit ness who a  ssumes to         repeat      what another
party has said:          his liability to have                                     misun d e       rstood thie party is very great,  and you
must be careful and cautious in scrutinizing
th e  ev       id    ence,  and be satisfied        that    the party
has correctly understood. But the jury must
be satisfied, secondly, t hat the party          alleged
to have confessed is correctly reported. Now,
th          ere is such         infirmity in human language
t hat an        inte lligent man, desiring  to report
accurately, is very liable to misreport. We
heldoin remember the precise language of a
party who is conversing with us; we catch
the idea and reproduce it in our own language; and in doing that we are always liable
to convey an impression which the party
whom we are reporting did not intend to convey.  The third rule is, that the language in
which the confession was made must have
been unambiguous; because if the language
used by the party may as well apply to one
set of facts as to another, you cannot tell by
the pretendedconfession what fact the party
intended to admit. If there are two views
of a case, or two situations, the party spleaking having reference to one, and the witness
listening having reference to another, the
witness is quite liable to impute to the
speaker a reference to a transaction, or give
to his language a meaning, entirely different
from what the speaker intended. All of these
rules are to be carefully observed.
Again, if the  witnesse s relied upon  to pr o ve
oral admissions, are justly tainted with sus pici on in  th e case;  if it is establish ed tha t
they ha ve been guilt y o f mis cond uct  or false hood in th e case in which they    t estify; for
instan ce, if they have been guilty of the de s tru ction of important  documents    i n the
case, a fact to which I shall call your atten tion further on, gentlemen, as bearing on the
witnesses who testify to oral confessions
against this defendant; or if the witnesses
testifying to oral admissions are members of
the same family, or are moved by a common
interest in the result of the action, and par ticularly if they admit that they have been
guilty of repeated falsification of the facts to
which they flow testify, these considerations
added to the inher'ent infirmityof theevidence
itself, would compel a jury to disregard
evidence of this nature.
I shall not stop here, gentlemen-I only
desire to recall your attention to it in passing-I shall not stop here to remind youl
that every witness in this case is tainted by
the infirmities which are otherwise pointed
out, and which you have heard read. They
come fi-om the same family; I shall show
you that they have been guilty of the destruction of the most important documents in
this case; I shall show you that they are
tinder the strongest motives possible to fasten
guilt upon this defendant; and I shall show
you-no, they have themselves confessed to
you —that they have been guilty of repeated
falsification of the facts to which they now
testify.
Having considered thus briefly the rules of
law which must govern you in your disposi tion of this case, I now invite your attention
to the charge made by the plaintiff against
this defendant, and  to the  circumstances
under which this charge was made.  I resume
my narrative at the point where Tilton had
s'tid to Bowen that Beecher had made an unhandsome proposal to his wife.  This  was
news to Bowen; the announcement of it
caused his very soul to thrill with delight.
He at once discovered his opportunity; if
he could lead Tilton to make a personal attack upon Beecher, this would give him the
choice of two alternatives.  If Tilton succeeded in his attack, this would so damage
The Christian Union that the accruing benefit
to The Independent would be many times
Tilton's salary, and the danger from retaining Tilton would be compensated for by the
injury inflicted upon a dangerous rival. Besid(es. such acontest would make it impossible
for Beecher and Tilton ever to unite against
Bowen and( The Independent.  On the other
h          and, if Til t            eaon failed in is attack  on Beecher, this would furnish an excellent reason for
26
THE DEFENSE.
MR. BOWEN'S MANAGEMENT.
I 
MR. B13OWENS MIANAGIEMENT.
explicitly understand."  In the light of Tilton's present accusation, few could understand how this clause came to be inserted in
the letter at the instance of Bowen.   With
this clause in it, the letter would point so
directly to some cause of offense against the
writer which would be understood by the
reader, that Bowen could bear the letter without  provoking  the  slightest suspicion of
having been its instigator.   He would have
the advantage of watching, of seeing the
effect produced upon Mr. Beecher by the reading of the letter, and a personal interview
immediately following thereupon,  and thus
be able  to  judge of  the  probability  of
Mr.  Beecher's guilt.   He  could thus gain
time and await developments. But he was
not long in doubt.  Mr. Beecher's reply to
that letter was quick, bold and impassioned:
~' Bowen, what does this mean? This is insanity; the man is mad!"  And he attacked
Tilton to Bowen with a violence that struck
him dead in five minutes.   He told Bowen
Tilton's true life, as he had learned it from
h              i Ttos cas wife and his intimate associates withint
the    as  o   o rt    n  then he last two or three years, and then he di d
what was worse-he turned Bowen over to
Mrs. Beecher, who finished Tilton very summai ily in Bowen's estimation.
Having discovered the courage of innocence
where he had fondly hoped to see disclosed
the cowardice of guilt, Bowen, always quick
to discern his interests, at once began a
masterly retreat.  " I don't know," he said:
"I am surprised at the contents of the letter!
If Mr. Tilton is your enemy, I will be your
it-end,  Mr.  Beecher."    " Codlin is your
friend, not Short." And,he who had just
before entered Mr. Beecher's house, having
pledged his friendship to Tilton, now left it,
pledging that friendship to Beecher. But he
was the friend of neither; he was the implacable (enemy of both. Having made certain that
Tilton and Beecher could not and would not
unite against him, he at once determined to
d scharge Tilton from his employ.  This is
proved by Tilton himself, who says: "The
next morning, after Bowen had  instituted
this demand for the retirement of Mr. Beecher,
and after saying that he would fortify it with
facts, he came to The Union office and said to
me:'Sir, if you ever rievelt to Mr. Beecher
the things I told you and Mr. Johnson, I will
cashier you I' and," adds Tilton, "Ihardly
had his violent words ceased ringing in my
cars, when I received his summary notice
breaking my contract.; with The Independent
atnid The Brooklyn  Uniori"  And thus  Til ton's first attack upon  Mr. Beecher bad  m-is carried.
Let us now, gentlemen, consider for a
moment the position in wlich the interview
of Dec. 26 had placed Tilton and Bowen in
the eye of the law. We charge here, gentle men, that Theodore Tiltoa is a conspirator~
getting   rid     of      h      im.  In either  evernt,    therefore, Bowe n was to win. After a few mome      n ts        reflection upon  th e  situation   as now
presented by Tilton, Bowen turned to                          him and
said, with a             seriousness of countenance that
would  have done hon or to Aminadab Sleek:
" You  and I, Mr.  Tilton,  owe a duty to society.  This man is the editor of The Chrstian Union.  Its circulation ha s r un up  in a
single year from 2,000 to45,000. Such a man
is a                   danger ous              visitorin  the families of his
congregati     on. He  is a w olf in the fold. We
should unite to extirpate him."  "Agreed,"
says          Tilt on, " sav e my  two  contracts, and  we
w i ll smi                           te him before the world." 
" Then," said Bowen, "        since my ha nds are
tied by t     he result of           a s ettlement totat I     have
recently made with Beecher, do  you write him
a lett      er,       demanding that,' for reasons whicl
he         exp licitly understands,'                 he should immediately cease from the ministr y of Pl ymouth
Church, that he  quit Bro oklyn as a             residence,
a        nd that      he  cease to wri            te for The Christian
Un     ion. I       will bear  the letter to him and support the demand."  Tilton,                     thinking only of
saving his co ntract s with    Bowe n,  and without seeing   the  trap, caught at the bait, and
for thwith  did     the      act, for the doing of  which
his f          riend Moul ton an hour          afterwards called
oim a        fool.  This nvas a maspester stroke  of strategy on the        par t          of Bowen. At  on  e movie he had
made a        u  nion  between Tilton and The Christian, Union impossible, and left himself free
t o  discharge  Tilton  w      ith out any  danger
thereby of strengthening a business rival.
F    or B  owen               had no objection to joining in an
atta ck upo       n Beecher, provided he could do
so  safely to         himself  and  disastrousl    y  t o
B ee       cher; but, distrustful of Tilton, and feeling that                 he was a broken reed on which itwas unsafe to lean too heavily, he proceeded
to move cautiously,  to f   eel his wa y        carefully,
always keeping open a safe road by which he
could retreat.
If  T        il    t on' s charges were tru-, the mere
reading of the letter        w ould disclose the conscionisness of guilt to the keen and arguseyed Bow-a.  This letter, Tilton says, was
an open one, and if this should be presented
optn by Bowen, Beecher would at once perceive that he had been a party to it. To pre -'ent this, the cautious owner of TheInde.pendent said, as he went along, bearing the
letter to Beecher's house, "I think it would
be well for me to seal this letter; then I can
deny to Beecher all knowledge of its con tents. I will hurl this secret missile at him.
and. carefully watching the effect, I will
atwait events before determining whether I
will make myself a party to the controversy
or ilot."
Nowhere has Bowen's consummate cunning
been more conspicuous than in this sug,-ges tion which led to the introduction of the
clause in the letter " for reasons which you
27 
OPENLNG FOR THE DEFENSE.
against the reputation of Henry Ward Beech-    "Now, that many acts which, if done by an in             er, andhasbee   sincethe 2thdayof D-   dividual, are not indictable, are punished criminally
cember, 1870.   Wee say he formed that con-  when done in pursuance  of the conspiracy amon       g
numbers, is too well settled to admit of controversy.
spiracy with Henry C. Bowen; but Henry C.  Thus, a conspiracy to slander a man by charging
Bowen backed out, and then the place had to  him with a crime, or with being the father of a
be supplied, and it was supplied by Francis  bastard child, is an idictable offense."
D. Moulton:  but that Theodore Tilton has            2 Mass., 523.  The Commonwealth v. Tib held the position of a conspirator against the betts:
reputation of Henry Ward Beecher since the
26th day of December, 18-0, I shall leave no    "  conspiracyto charge any person with a crime,
doubt in the mind of any honest man, after  and in pursuance of a conspiracy falsely to affirm
doubt in the mind of any honest man, after                                    pirbyf
I reconut the evidence of th that        he is guilty, is an indictable offense, without
I recount the evidence of that conspiracy,nd procuring any legal process."'
of the schemes which Bowen and Tilton then
formed against Beecher, Tilton himself being         8 Penn. State Rep., 230.   The case is that
the witness.  Beyond all question, therefore,   of Hood v. Polin, your Honor, in which  the
I say they had become conspirators against  action was substantially on  the civil side of
Beecher,  and havd entered into a plot to  the  Court, for damages  occasioned by  the
bring a charge of crime against him, not for  conspiracy.   In imputing  to a party whose
the purpose of securing his legal punishment,   property had been burned a design to defraud
but solely with the view to get him out of  the insurance company, Chief-JusticeGibson,
their own way.  It was business, gentlemen.   in delivering the opinion of the Court,  uses
So much fraud, so much conspiracy, so much   this language:
lying, for so much return in dollars and cents'To put another in eopardy r terror, is of itst h ro                       u      g      h The Independent b y dwarfing T]    self a damage to him;  and it is on this ground
CGlristian Union.  Bowen had slipped out of  that it's actionable to charge maliciously an int     h      i      s       conspiracy, and  immediately on learning  nocent person with crime.  It is said thatthe
th, who was too deeply committed plaintiffinthis easewas not in jeopardy.  Of prothis, Tilton, who was too deeply committed sc
withdXaw anoherantojoinsecution by indictment, he certainly was  not; but
to withdraw,  sought another man to join  of being iuined in his reputation and business, he
him, who, taking Bowen's place, necessarily  certainly was.  The libel which jeopardized  him
became a conspirator in his stead.                would give him an action against a single publisher
~~The nature~ of that conspiracy between Til-        it, and why not against a number who publish
The -nature of that conspiracy between Ti.-                              
it in concert. It is not to be maintained that a
ton and Bowen, gentlemen,  Mr. Tilton  has  libel charging what would not be actionable indeproved from his evidence.  He  has shown   pendent of the publication of it, is not actionable
you that iai that conversation between Mr.. 
you that ill that conversation between Mr.   without proof of special damages from it; or that
iBowen  and  himself, charges  against  Mr   isntan injury from whic h constructive damage
results by implication of law.  From every iort the
Beecher were made, charges of crime, charges  law implies damage; and when substantial damage
that would disgrace him before the commu-   is not shown, it implies the smallest amount of it;
nity, if they were true, and that this missile   but still an amount sufficient to sustain an action
was hurled at him on that day for it. An action of slander could seldom be mainwas hurled at him on that day for the pur-  taimed on any other basis; and, if the libel be acpose of compelling him to resign his position   tionable when published by one, it is actionable
as pastor of Plymouth Church   and to cease   when published by a plurality. But I do not rest
t thf  aeetieyoth   ctthat  the defendants
writing for TAe CATistian Uniomn.  That was  the case enirely on te fac that the defeats
th  e     o   conspired to publish alibel.  A conspiracy to de.
a crime that made them, if t             ie eyes of the  fame  by spoken words, not actionable. would be
law, conspirators.                                equally af subject of prosecution by indictment;
and, if so, then equally a subject of prosecution by
THE LAW  ON CONSPIRACY.                    action, by reason of the presumption that injury
and damage would beproduced by the combination
of numbers.  The overt acts laid in this declara  I will ask my associate now  to furnish us   tion, weire scandalous words written, and scandalat this point the authorities on the subject  ous words spoken; and backed, as they were, by a
~of ~~consspir~ac~y.confederacy to give them circulation and credit,
of conspira y...                   they raised a legal presumption of damage  to a
Mr.  Porter-The first citation, if  your  greater or less extent.  Defamation by the outcry
Honor please, is from  3d Greenleaf on Evi-  of numbers is as resistless as defamation by the
deuce, section 89:                               ]written act of the individual.  The mode of pub                                                  lication is different, but the effect of it is the same;
"A conspiracy may be deseribed in general telms  and it is for this reason that an action lies at the
as a comubination of two or more persons by some } suit of one who has beenthe subject of a conspiracy,
concerted action to accomplish some criminal or  whenever aii indicetment would lie for it.  But an
unlawful purpose, or to accomplish some purpose   indictment lies for any conspiracy to vex or annoy
not in itself criminal or unlawful by criminal or  another-for instance, to hiss aplay or an actor,
unlawful means.  It is not essential that the act  right orwrong,"
intended to be done should be punishable by indict.
ment, for if it be designed to destroy a mana's rep  The next case cited is from  The People v.
utation by verbal slanderi, or      to seduce a female Mather (4 Wendell, 261), where  the Court,
elope from her parents' house for the purpose of
prostitution, it is a criminal offense, though the act  in delivering the opinion, says
itself be not indictable."'
"I!    ate   ocri   on   h   o,atog
1  "If partie s   concur  in doing the   act, a lthough
12th Conn., 112.  The State v. B~ow'.ey:    i they were not previously acquainted with each
28
I
y 
TIIE LAW OF CONSPIRACY.
which now I desire to call your attention in
this connection.   You will observe that that
letter says: "For reasons which you explicitly understand, you are required," etc. Now,
gentlemen of the jury, if Mr.  Becher had
been conscious of guilt-if lie lad committed
adultery with Mis. Tilton, and had received,
on the 27th day of December, such a letter
from Mr. Tilton-don't you think he would
Lhave  divined the  object of it?  Would  not
he have understood what he meant? At least
would not it have suggested to him "Mr.
Tilton has discovered  my  crime"?   And
wouldn't.he have been desirous of understanding how far that crime had been discovered and precisely what Mr. Tilton knew
about it? And yet, gentlemen of the  jury,
this alleged guilty man, who had been carrying on adulterous intercourse for sixteen
months, thus having  his guilt suddenly disclosed to him, and finding the knowledge of
it possessed by the husband, never moves a
step to ascertain what the husband knew or
to commuunicate with this woman to ascertain
the situation.  There he rested on the 27th,
28th, "9th and 30th days of December, with out making the first move to ascertain what
Mr. Tilton knew about it, and how far he
had discovered the truth as it existed be tween himself and Mrs. Tilton.  Would a
guilty man have done that, gentlemen?  Do
you think thatif an injured and outraged hus band had gone to a man  who  was  really
guilty and written him such a letter as that,
he would not have put himself in communi cition wvithl that wife, to ascertain just what
the  husband knew  and  wliat this letter
mean t?  And y     et he made no effort t o com municate  wi th Mrs.         Tilton; did n ot commu nicTlte w ith  her, and, as the plaintiff himself
tells you, was in profound ignorance that the
plaintiff had any accusation to make against
him in connection with his wife, until they
met on  that  stormy night at  Moulton's
house, about eight o'clock in the evening. I
submit to you, gentlemen, that that is proof
conclusive that this defendant knew nothing
about the object of that letter; at least he
did not understand that it referred at all to
his relations with Mrs. Tilton. And the fact
that he did not so understand proves conclu  sively that guilt did not exist.
The sending of this letter by Mr. Tilton to
Mr. Beecher provoked a contest from which
Mr. Tilton could not retire easily, and when
he was deserted by 5Ir. Bowen, he found him.
self in a very awkward situation.   He had
sent this challenge to the most prominent
clergyman in Brooklyn, and ead nothing on
which to support it; Bowen had failed him;
he had nothing from  his wife  in writing  notlhing whatever on which to support thi.,s
charge. But he had crossed the Rubicon.
To advance might be dangerous, to retreat
was impossible. If before this his ruin waz
other, it  is a conspiracy.   Lord  Ke nyon says, in
King v. Hammond  & WVebb: If a general conspiracy exists, you may go into general evidence of
its nature, and the conduct of its members, so as
to implicate men who stand charged with acting
upon the teims of it, years after those terms have
been established, and who reside at a great distance
fr,om the place where, the general plan is carried on.
These cases show that all who adhere to a conspiracy after its formation and while it is being execu
ted, become conspirators.
Msr. Tracy-That by t  uls      he rules of the comnsoln                 l     aw, gentlemen,   this  plaintiff in this
case, i        f           he is to be believed in his  testimony,
was  a  conspira tor wi    th Henr    y  C. B   o wen
oagainst the character of  this defendant, under
the rules   of law wh     ich you hav e  j us      t      heard
read  there can be no doubt what ev er.  I
want to put in here, gentlemen, again, the
qualification which I stated yesterday. I desile to do  it  alway s, for I d o not  desire to iin -
pute     even agai                  nst Mr. Bowen the charge of
conspiracy  resting    entirely upon th     e  ev idence
of Theodore Tilton. I make the chargeon
the theo ry that he  states the truth, and that
what transpire     d  b  e tween him and Mr. Bowen
on the 26th of December is what he states in
hfis evidence. If                         Mr. Bowen should come
h    er    e  and say that that       is false; if Mr. Bowen
s     h ould appear upon the witness stand or elsewhere and  say: "Theodoin e       Tiltcn  falsifies
nwhen he   ch       arges me w   it h conspiring  with
him  on the 26th day of December to drive
H       enry Ward Beecher out of Brooklyn by                the
charge of scandal against him, and under fear
of provoking a scandal in the community
to induce him or to frighten him to abandon
the pulpit," I s:,y that if Henry C. Bowen
should deny that, and should assert his ignorance of the contents of that letter, I
should     not b     e  p repa red to ask you  to believe
T          heodore Tilton even agaiinst himself.  BlIt
that upon his statement of the case, that he
was a deliberate conspirator on the 26th day
of December, 1870, against Henry Ward
Beecher, the object of that conspiracy being,
to drive himn out of Brooklyn by means of as
threat of an outrageous scandal. there can be
no doubt, if you are to believe Theodore
Tilton.  But as we have shown, M{r. Bowen
backed out early. He did- not want to travel
long in that direction; he found it unsafe to
go on.
But the plaintiff had committed himself,
so that he was compelled to go on, and he
was therefore compelled to seek another
friend to aid him.
The letter which Mr. Tilton had sent to
Mr. Beecher by Bowen was delivered on the
evening ofthe 27th day of December. I have
repeated to you, gentlemen, the indignant
manner in which this defendant received it.
I have shown you that his conduct there, in
the presence of Henry C. Bowen, satisfied Mr.
Bowen of his innocence, and he retraced his
steps at once. But there is another fact to
29
:1 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
Beecher was never communicated to Francis
D. Moulton until the evening of the 30th of
December?   Do you believe that, all these
days, he was in ignorance of the response
that letter had met at the hands of Henry
Ward Beecher?  This fact, so important to
his friend that he marked not only the hour
but the precise minute at which he had re ceived it, denouncing his friend as a fool for
what lie had done?  And yet they tell you
-although they admit that they had seen
each other in the meantime-they tell you
that no word had ever passed between them
as to the manner in which Mr. Beecher had
received the letter.   You would not believe
it, gentlemen,  you would  not believe it
if it stood uncontradicted, and rested upon
the oath of both these witnesses, with no
other infirmity except the improbability of
the statement itself.
But we are not left to that.  Fortunately
for us in this respect, and in many others,
Theodore Tilton reduced the history of these
scenes transpiring at that time to writing, in
1872; and while he thought he had destroyed it, and gotten rid of it, providentially for
us, he showed it to too many men: antd some
of them were shrewd enough and cautious
enough to preserve a copy of it; and a paper
which he supposed was destroyed and would
not confront him during this litigation was
resurrected, to his great surprise, and confronted him upon the witness stand.   Now,
I appeal to that "True Story," as written by
Theodore Tilton himself, to contradict the
evidence of Mr. Tilton and Francis D. Moulton right at the inception of this conspiracy
between them.   The "True Story," as Mr.
Tilton entitled it, says distinctly that  Mr.
Moulton was consulted at least twice after the
26th and before the 30th of December, thus
giving the lie in the plainest terms to the
testinmony of these two witnesses.  After referring to the interview of December 26th,
the II True Story" says:
And now, gentlemen, we come to the
period of time when we say the conspiracy,
which had been begun on the 26th of Decem ber at Mir. Bowen's  hous      e  by M  r. Til ton, in
concert with Mr. Bowen, was changed into
one between himself and Mr. Moulton.  We
have seen that Mr. Moulton was somehow
(by accident as the        y          say, but by pre-arralnge
ment as   we  think) at Mr.   Tiltonh's  house
awa        iting Mr. Tilton's     return  from t he inter view at Mr. Bowen's house, De                    cember 26th.
He was then informed of the result of that
interview             and of the writing mf that letter
to Mer. Beecher. oHe                         regarded that as so im portant an  event, that he    m       ade a memo  -
randum noting the precise hour and minute
at which this communication had been handed to                                          him!
And here, gentlemen,  at the ver          y  beginning of  th   e association of  these two  men in
relation to this case, you are called upon to
discredit the first fact they testify to, or to
acoept a statement which is not only extremely improbable, but which is contradicted
by the written evidence of one of them.
They both testify that Moulton was not consulted again until the evening of the 30th.
I ask, you, gentlemen, to consider the improbability of that statement.
Oa the 26th, as they tell you, Francis D
Moulton found that his most intimate friend
had committed what he called the foolish
act of sending this letter to Henry Ward
Beecher.   He was informed that that letter
was to be borne to Mr. Beecht,r by Alr,
Bowen, and he predicted the result.  Says
he: " You have signed the letter alone; supposing Mr. Boweni leaves you to support it
alone, where are you?"   The result of the
interview between  Mr. Bowen and  Mr.
Beecher was known by Mr. Tilton the next
morning, for I have just read in your heai,itig that he says, "The next morning Mr.
Bowen came into my presence and told me
if I dared repeat what he had told me he
would cashier me at once."  Do you believ'e,
gentlemen of the jury, that the result of
that interview between Mr. Bowen and Mr.
" A day or two afterwards" [which would be the
27th or 2Sth,] "Iprompted by my wife's wish and
MAIr. Moulto,i's ad(vice, I resolved that I would send
for Mr. Beecher to meet me at apersonal interview,
either in their presence or with me alone "
Then  giving the account of the scene in
which Bowe n threatened to discharge Tilton
from The Independent and The Union, and
to call the police to cast him into the streets,
the " True Story" proceeds:
'i I informed my  wife,and Mr.  Moulton, and
afterwards jAir. Johnson, of this incident. concernini, which Mr. ]%1oultoni remarked that it did not
surprise him in the least, and then with the joint
advice of all "
e
2
t
e
fr
t
t
t
II
30
imminent, with Beecher and Bowen unite
against him it was not only I I sure, " but t
avail ourselves of the fine criticism of the
plaintiff upon the witness stand, we may say
it was II c-ertain. " To sever that union and
pacify Beecher was with him the necessity of
the hour. Unless he could do this, he was
not only the fool that Moultou had called
him, but he was a ruined inan. How this
could be done war, the subject that occupied
his thoughts during the 28th, 29th and 30th
days of December.
I
UR. MOULTON'S ENTRANCE ON THE
SCENE.
I take it, gentlemen, that that word "all"'
is Dever -ipplied to any act concerning this
conspiracy that does not include Fraucis D.
Moulton from this time forwird 
MR. TILTON FORCED TO MAKE PEACE.
such and such tales," Bowen would have denied it, and Tiltoa's position would have been
worse than ever.  If he shouldsay, "Mywif,s
has told an evil tale about you," he well
knew that his wife would  deny it, unless
some writing were extracted from  her.  It
was essential that he should have an interview with Mr. Beecher, in which he  should
instantly satisfy the latter that he had had
so me reasonable pretext for writing his insolent demanrd, an d yet should at  the   sam e
moment  withdraw that  demand        in such manner as  to c onvince Mr. Beecher that  if he should
further  rese nt   thi s withdrawn  insult there
would be danger of an explosion, in which
Mr. Beecher's reputatio n  must inevitably suffer, no matter how innocent he might be.
Furthe r mo re,  Tilton must so shape     his case
as to satisfy Mr. Beec ther that the stories which
the latter had circulated to some  extent
against Tilton w e re f alse and  slanderous, and
thus at one  blow  convince Mr.  Beecher that
Tilton was pur e  in his own mora ls a nd under
an honest appre hension  as to Mr.  Beecher's
conduct.
The    infernal  sagacity     which devised a
scheme meeting all these  requirements did
not emanate from the excited brain of Tilton,
but from the cool and calculating villany of
his fi-ieid.  Mrs. Tilton was sick, having had
a narrow escape from death, and greatly weak.
ened bv a severe and protracted hemorrhage.
The Mephistopheles at her husband's elbow
suggested to him that now was the time to
get hier signature to any paper which would
answer the purpose. Tilti,n disclosed to his
wife so much of his own difficulties as sufficed
to convince her of his imminent ruin.  He
turned out the nurse and companion; he
locked the door, and kept himself for hours
alone with the poor prostrate woman, and by
a mixture of threats and coaxing procured
her consent to sign a letter which he proposed
to write, soliciting Mr. Beecher to an inter view with her husband, and pleading for
peace and reconciliation. For him to substi tute for such a letter a few words, charging
her pastor with having made improper solici tations to tier, without describing their pre cise- purport, was easy enough; and his poor
wife, having once raised herself from the bed
to sign the letter which he originally propos ed, had iio power to refuse to put her name
below such a charge, the purport of which
she but dimly comprehended, if indeed she
understood it at all. All that she really
knew was that she was doing something which
her husband,to whom she had always render ed a slavish obedience, commanded her to do.
Probally she had some indistinct idea that
the nlatural effect of her signature was to do
Mr. Beecher a wrong; but she was assured
by her husband, a.s lie tells you himself, that
its real effect would be to do Mr. Beechef
good, and to put an end to the conflict whichl
"I determ ined  t     o       summo n  M r. B eecher     to    t      he
contemplated interview. To this end Mrs. Tilton
wrote a brief note, addressed to -Ir. Beecher
through me."
Thus it is clear that upon the statement in
Tilton's own handwriting, prepared in December, 1872, and shown by him to numerous friends as the very truth of the matter,
that Mr. Moulton was consulted on two separate days after the 26thl and before the 30th,
and that it was by Moulton's advice that
Tilton determined to send for Beeche', this
advice being given before Mrs. Tilton wrote
her brief note, which Tilton has sworn was
written on December 29th. Yet they tell
you, gentlemen, that the first that Mr. Moulton knew of that was when Mr. Tilton came
to him on the 30th of December with this
letter from Mrs. Tilton.  What motive did
Mr. Tilton have for falsifying in this respect
when he drew up the "TrueStory?"  He has
a motive for falsifying now, because he has
been advised by his counsel that these facts
made out a clear case of conspiracy against
Moulton and himself, and it is the result of
their shrewd suggestion (but I do not intimate that it is by their ad-ice) that both he and
the mutual friend now dEsclaim any consultation prior to the signing by Mrs. Tilton ofthe
abominable charge drawn up by her husband.
ButTilton consulted no lawyer when hlie prepared the "True Story," and only inserted
such falsehoods as seemed to him then to be
useful.  This statement was not one which
could have done him any good, and it may
therefore be safely assumed to be true.
MR. TILTON FORCED TO MAKE PEACE.
But whether Moulton was consulted or not,
the situation was plain.  Tilton could get
nothing from Bowen upon which to support
his threatening letter, and he had nothing
from his wife which would confirm the charge
he had made to Bowen against Beecher. He
had, therefore, given a rash challenge to one
of the foremost men in Brooklyn, without
the slightest support, save his own word,
backed by his own tainted reputation. There
was but one thing to be done.  He must make
peace with Mr. Beecher.  But how should he
accomplish that? He had written a most insuiting letter.  Should he say, frankly, "Mr.
Beecher, I have been mistaken.  I sent you
that letter under a misapprehension of facts?"
Not to mention that the idea of an apology
would be utterly repugnant to Tilton's selfconceit and vanity, Mr. Beecher's natural answer would have been, "Iow did you dare to
send so insulting a letter without making
inquiry as to the facts?"   Moreover, what
misapprehension of facts could he have alleged?  If he had said, "Mr. Bowen told me
31
AFTERNOON SESSION. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
port, but also the principal importers of cer tain   staple articles of commerce.  The high
favor in which they stood with the officers of
the quarantine and of the port was a matter
of public notoriety; and the maintenance of
friendly relations with all these officers, and
with the officers of the Custom House, was a
matter of the utmost concern to the firm.   A
slight change in the tariff would, at any
time, gain or lose hundreds of thousands of
dollars for them.   It was, therefore, a mat ter of vital importance that they should be
represented, as occasion arose, at Washington,
at Albany, and among the local officers of
both the national and State governments, by
some confidential agent, who could under take the management of such affairs involv ing the most delicate and weighty considera tions.  You must be aware, gentlemen, that
in every large concern of this kind there is
invariably a junior partner, or a highly-paid
confidential clerk, who undertakes the  mian agement of these  interests, and concerning
whose transactions  no  questions are  ever
asked.   To  no  partnership in either of the
two cities was such an agent more valuable
than to the firm of which Mr. Moulton is a
member.   These considerations will explain
some  things at a glance, which otherwise
would seem to you mysterious.  Btt the confidential partner in such cases cannot do all
his work with his own  htqnds.  He must be
able to put his hand on some lever of public
opinion. He cannot afford to go down to Washington and urge or oppose legislation without
an     y support from th e public press. To him
it is a matter of life and death to be alble to
guide some current of public sentiment. Fail.
ing to do this, his power ceases, his usefulness is at an end, and his share in the partnership would quickly come to an end
also, as Mr. Moulton's partnership in this
concern did quickly come to an end when
his usefulness had been destroyed.
Francis D. Moulton and Theodore Tilton
had been intimate friends from boyhood;
but they had been separated by circumstances
for some years.  The period at which Mr.
Moulton was placed in charge of all these
great interests of his firm appears to have
been also the period when he renewed, with
all or more of its original warmth, his devoted friendship for Theodore Tilton. From
this time there was no interruption and no
breach. Mr. Tilton had, meanwhile, become
the editor of The Independent, a paper which
before his accession, was religious, but wvhich,
he has taken pains to assure you, he made
secuilar. It was a powerful political engine.
He has told you that it was one of the principal organs of the Republican party, which,
during the whole period of this renewed
fi'iendship, has had exclu~sive control of the
National Government, and for most of the
time had controlled the legislation of this
It is hardly nec       essar   y,   g       ent lemen, that I
should occupy much time in describing                           the
c haracter              of Francis D. Moulto n, or in ex plaining t       he mo   tive s  w hich hav e   actuated
hin through,  out this controversy. He  has
been in you    r  p rese nce f or t en days; you    have
seen and heard  him.   No man       in th is   c     ourt room could fail to be satisfied that Moulton
was a           perso n w ell chosen by  the plainti f f to
play the desperate pgrt requ     ired of     the mu tual friend. Cool, fearless, plausible, of cul tured tastes, not destitute of literary ability,
gifted with   a quick perception of    humn an
character, o f  t      re mendous energy, and totally
d     estitut e  of  an y  b elief in conscience,  in c   osec       i im mortality,                     or in God, this man wa        s well qual ified, lik e  his  g reat archetype, to deceive the
very elect.   He ha2s toll you,  under the
so      lemnity  of an oath, that  he was a heathen;
a          nd by      th      a       t you know what he  means.   Not
a heathen like Socrates or Plato, not a hea then l       ike             those men of old who walked  in
darkness, seeking after the light, and to
wleom the great poet of the Catho                      lic Church
h       as ass   igned a   place in te              other world, free
from pain, though far from Heaven —but
such a heathen as can only be found in the
midst of Christian civilization; a man'who
de spises th      e  ideam                  of  personal   responsibility,
who  scoffs at the idea of future accountability,
who   laughs in his     sl eev  e           at the credulity      of
those w        ho      r        ea       d the solemn words  of Scripture, or who listen to the instructions of the
Church, and whose only ide,a of God is as a
convenient name for rounding an oar h or enforcing an execration Yet it was not in this
guise that lie presented himself to the defendant, and he took great care not to impress
you with this conception of himself in Court.
Even here, when facing hundreds (of men
in whose eyes he read that they kiew him
to be an unscrupulous and hardened villain,
he wore a vail of decent respectability. How
much more, when he approached the most
distinguished clergyman of the, age, to whom
he was almost a stranger, did he clothe himself as an angel of light, and, While humbly
acknowledging his unconverted state, yet
strive to show that he was aiming to practice
the highest Christian virtues 1
What was this man? What was his position in society? Upon what endorsement was
he received?  He was the junior member of
one of the largest and most respected commercial houses ill this city. They were nest
only the largest warehousing firm at this
32
had begun between her husband and her
p-astor. Such -a letter was obtained on the
29tb of December, and carried by Tilton to
Moulton, who now certainly becomes one of
the most important actors in this unhappy
controversy.
THE'MUTUAL FRIEND. 
HOW THE FRIENDS WORKED TOGETHER.
around this pastor with  devoted affection
would ever equal hlim in fidelity.
State.  When this controversy began, Mr.
Tilton was the editor, not only of The Independent, but of another newspaper of large
influence in this city, and the acknowledged         H
local organ of the Republican party.  He was
also the intimate and trusted friend of Horace
Greeley, the chief editorial writer of that
party.  No man could obtain more readily
access to Mr. Greeley's ear, or introduce a
fliend with greater assurance of  welcome
than Theodore Tilton.  Through the whole
term of this close union between Mr. Tilton
and Mr. Moulton, which'reminds us of Damo      fR
and Pythias in the olden time, Mr. Moulton
had, therefore, easy and confidential access to
the principal organis of the Republican party.
This was the situation of the two friends at
the beginning of December, 1870.  We  may
well believe that whlen Mr. Moulton found
his friend suddenly dethroned, and no longer
a power in the land, he felt that his own
fortunes were seriously imperiled.   Whether
Mr. Moulton was generous enough to be
sincerely grateful for past favors from his
friend, or whether he was among those who
define gratitude as " a lively sense of favors
to come," could make but little difference in
the  earnestness with  which  he naturally
sought to reinstate so powerful an ally.  It is
easy to see that he made the case of Mr.
'lTilton his own.  He attacked Mr. Bowen as
bitterly and even ferociously as  he could
have attacked his own worst personal enemy.
This he states himself, and describes the
scene with dramatic force.
But we are asked to believe that when he
was informed by Mr. Tilton that not Mr.
Bowen, but Mr. Beecher, had been his worst
enemy- his enemy in business, his enemy in
the church, his enemy iu the household-Mr.
Moulton approached Mr. Beecher in a genuine spirit of friendship, and with a sincere
desire to act the fair and honorable part of a
strictly mutual fiend.  He tells us that he
learned that Mr. Bcecher had been guilty of
one of the basest and foulest acts which anyv
man can commit; he tells you, under the
solemn oath of a man who believes in neither
God nor the devil, that his friendship for Mr.
Beecher commenced on that stormy night
when he learned for the first time, that this
new friend had debauched his old friend's
wife.   Tilis horrible crime, the deliberate
and long planned seduction of a trusting and
reverential woman, by the pastor who had
given her hand to her husband in marriage,
and invoked the blessing of God on their
union, was the one fact which awoke in the
generous breast of Mr. Moulton a new fountain of sympathy for the alleged treacherous
seducer.  He hastened to pledge to this man,
whom  he now  describes as an abandoned
hypocrite and libertine, "the strictest and
firmest friendship."  He assured him that no
one among the thousand of friends who stood
3
He did all this with the knowledge and full
approval of the man who claims to have been
the injured husband, whose happiness had
been destroyed by the  new friend  whom Mr.
Moulton thus enthl s iastically  t ook to hi s
bosom.  And notwithstanding this pretended
friendship of Mr. Beecher, which seemed
gradually to ripen into an ardent affection;
notwithstanding his repeated pledges and offers of support; notwithstanding his earnest
assurances that Mr. Beecher should in all
events be protected by him; notwithstanding
the absolute confidence and high esteem,
which, by his plausibility, he gained from his
new-found friend, all of which was well
known to Tilton as the case progressed. Mr.
Tilton himself tells you, from the witness
stand, that this conduct never once excited a
doubt or suspicion in his mind of Mr. Moulton's unqualified fidelity to his cause, or made
him for a moment think otherwise of Mr.
Moulton than as his own most chivalrous and
devoted ally.  There never was an act of Mr.
Moulton's to which Mr. Tilton did not give
his assent.   There never was a paper of the
least importance (save one) written by Mr.
Moulton which was not either dictated or ap —
proved by Tilton;  a.nd there never was a
secret confided by Beecher to Moulton which
he did not instantly betray to Tilton. On
this point the testimony is clear and most
significant. While Moulton affected to deny
ltat Tilton had seen Mr. Beecher's letters or
that he was aware of Tilton's copying them,
the evidence of Tilton shows that in every
case he took down shorthand notes in Moulton's presence of just so much as he thought
desirable, and that in some cases these confidential communications were left in his hands
by Moulton for a period long enough to have
made printed copies, if Tilton had wished to
do so.
And another piece of evidence to which I
desire to invite your attention here, gentlemen, which Mr. Moulton had evidently forgotten in this connection, was the letter signed by him, but written by Tilton on August
5th, you will remember, where he refuses to
Mr. Beecher access to these papers, and says
that he shall consult Mr. Tilton and obtain
his consent to laly these papers before the Committee at his first opportunity, though Mr.
Tilton was present and wrote the letter himself! That letter you will remember, gentlemen. A statement in it Mr. Moulton had
evidently forgotten, for in that very letter le
states that Mr. Tilton took shorthand notes
from these letters as he read themii to himand yet he comes upon the stand here and
33
HOW THE FRIENDS WORKED
TOGERHER. 
OPENING FOR
swears deliberately that he never permitted
Mr. Tilton to have a copy of this confidential
correspondence, and never with his;ssent allowed him to have a copy; never saw lhim
take a copy;  tells you under oath that he
could not have taken a copy in shorthand
without his knowledge, as we all know he
could not; though, in that very letter of
August 5th, sent by Moulton to Beecher, Mr.
Moulton himself says that Mr. Tilton took
shorthatid notes from these letters, as he read
them to him.   I shall have occasion to call
your attention specifically to that letter.
Moulton affected to give advice to both parties
ili the interest of both.  He tellsyou himself
that Tilton almost uniformly disregarded any
advice in Beecher's interest, while Bo.echer
uniformly, even against his own judgment,
followed the advice of the mutual friend.
Tilton never yielded, except when it was plain
to both these conspirators that his refusal
would precipitate the crisis and kill the goose
that laid the golden egg; and even when he
did nominally yield, it was always upon condition that he should dictate the precise terms
of compromise, and, if anything was to be
written, that he should write it, word by
word, in his own language.  Then the papers
thus written  or dictated were carried to
Beecher, without an intimation of their real
authorship, and submitted to him as the productio,n (,f a sincere and devoted friend.  It
is impossible to conceive that a professed
friendship thus carried on with the approval
and under the direct guidance of Mr. Beecher's most bitter and relentless enemy could
have been otherwise, from beginging to end,
than utterly hollow and false.   It is not necessary to suppose that when this plot was
originally hatched the two conspirators laid
out their plans upon the gigantic scale which
they afterwards assumed.   They doubtless
supposed, at the beginning, that the restoration of Theodore Tilton would be speedily
accomplished; and it was not until his repeated failures, owing to his own amnazing
follies and wickedness-that extended over a
period of nearly four years-that the original
scheme gradually developed into ihe most
gigantic and hideous conspiracy of modern
times.
It can need no argument to satisfv you
that a man who has been for years carrying
on so diabolical a conspiracy as this, his
movements being known at every step to the
man whose cause hlie was really serving, could
not fail himself to be involved in such a network of crime as would make it impossible
for him  ever to retrace his steps or to abandon his partner in guilt-no matter what
might be the cost to himself of pursuing the
original scheme.  The descent into crime is
easy, but the return from such tortuous paths
of darkness is well nigh impossible.  Neither
of these men could for one moment afford to
betray e  o ter,  n the other, even if they ha d no  secrets
apart from this case; for either to drive the
other to desperation would be an act of suicidal madness.
But this is not the only tie, nor even the
chief tie, which binds together these two
men. They have had a most significant al liance in the prosecution of new social theories. They haLve had most significant rela tions with women whose very names stain
the lips that utter it. They have both held
their wi ves in humi liating bondage, and com pelled the women whom they vowed to love
and to cherish to become the mere ministers
to their lust. It was not Theodore Tilton
who sent his wife to bring home in a car riage the most notorious preacher and pram
ticer of free love that the world has ever seen.
This humiliation was reserved for the wife of
Francis D. Moulton.   And it was her lips,
and not the lips of Elizabeth Tilton, so far
as we have yet learned, that were kissed by
Victoria Woodhull.   It was this woman,
whose published utterances are so foul, that
the learned Judge now presiding was unwilling to allow tlhem to be read it,. your hearing,
even as a part of the evidence in this case,
who was selected by Francis D. Moulton as
the honored guest of his wife, and as a fit
person to be brought home ill a carriage by
his wife and only child. And this alliance
was maintained for a ),ear. It was maintained, if you believe Mr. Mo,ulton, for the
sake of Mr. Beecher, whom Mr. Tilton hated
with all his soul; or else it was maintained,
if you believe Mr. Tilton. for the sake of
Mrs. Tilton, whom Moulton despised with
all his heart!
But no mere words can do justice to this
man; none but an artist who should paint
the man as he is, can bring out his real character before mankind;and, thank heaven,
gentlemen, that portrait has been painted,
,rnd by one of the greatest artists the world
has ever known. If any of you ever visit
the beautiful city of Milan, vou will find
that, next to its magnificent cathedral, on
which thousands of saints find angels, carved
in heavenly white, stand in the attitude of
silent prayer, the pride and glory of that city
is in the humble refectory of an ancient
monastery, upon the wall of which, four
hundred years ago, the illustrious Leonardo
da Vinci p,inted his almost inspired picture
of the " L tst Supper"-a picture the colors
of which are too rapidly fading, but the fame
of which will never die. And, gentlemen,
in the most striking portrait of that group of
disciples, you will recognize the startling
likeness between the red matted hair, the
low forehead, the sharp, angular face, the
cold and remorseless eye of Judas Iscariot,
and the same featue'es in his legitimate suc cessor, the  "mutual friend"  There, on that
:~ consecrated wall, the portrait of Francis D.
i
34
THE DEFENSE. 
A NEW PURPOSE.
Moulton has stood waiting for his birth 400
years, and will stand for twice four hundred
years after this resurrected Judas shall lhave
sunk into eternal infamy.  [Great applause,
which was checked by the Chief-Justice.]
It was such a man that Tilton requested to
become his friend in this emergency, and it
was this man into whose hands he placed the
letter of his wife and bade him go and invite
Mr. Beecher to an interview on the night of
the 30th of December.
Before he returns, gentlemen, let us inquire
into the motives whi.ch impelled Tilton to
seek this interview, and the object which lihe
sought to accomplish by it.  This is made
clear from Tilton's own statement.  On his
cross-examination before the Church Committee he declares that the object of this interview was to make peace between himself
and Mr. Beecher. He says; "Elizabeth saw
that Mr. Bowen and I were in collision; she
was afraid that the collision would extend to
Mr. Beecher, and she wished me, if possible,
to make peace with him; therefore, she wrote
a womanly, kindly letter to him. I do not"
savs Tilton "remember the phraseology.  I
remember only one phrase which was pe(uliarly hers.  She said she loved her husband with her'maiden flame.' She begged,
as the best mode of avoiding trouble, that a
reconciliation  might be had between Mr.
Beecher and himself-that Mr. Beecher and
her husband might instantly unite to prevent
Mr. Bowen from doing the damage which he
had threatened in demanding Mr. Beecher's
retirement  from  the church.  Mr. Tilton
further said that he "resolved to accede to
his wife's request, and for her sake would
prevent the threatened exposure by Bowen,
and for this purpose he sought the interview
with Beecher."
His object was peace, and peace was to be
secured by his withdrawing the letter he had
written to Mr. Beeclher and inducing the latter to withdraw the charges which he had
made against Tilton to Bowen, and throughi
Beecher to silence not only Mrs. Beecher and
Mrs. Mlorse, but his own wife from circulating
the scandalous stories against himself.   You
will remember, gentlemen, that this wife had
separated from her husband and was under
the influence of her mother,  where  Mrs.
Beecher visited her. You will remember that
her child was taken from her and she thus
forced to return to Mr. Tilton's house.  You
will remember that the next night after that
return she was suddenly taken ill by a miscarriage, and was on her sick-bed at this time.
The question which agitated Tilton's mind
was, "What will this woman do when she
recovers?" He had no strong hold upon her,
and her future course was uncertain when she
was again restored to health.  He was bound
to work while opportunity was given him; 
and you will see the position ill which) he bad
Tilton knew  Beecher well, and we  shall
show you, gentlemen, that he has often declared that the surest way of securing Mr.
Beecheer's aid was to accuse him of having
wronged you.  Once convince  him that he
has done you an injury, and there is
nothing you can ask that he will not do to
repair the wrong.
Th ey determined to a pproa ch h im in this
mmanner, and to convince him that the  stories
lie had heard, as well as those he had circu1,tted against Tilton were false and slanderous.
They knew that if they could convict him in
his owN conscience of having slandered Tilton, he would make haste to atone for the
injustice. To do this they must destroy his
confidence in Mr. Tilton's accuser. That accuser was Tilton's own wife. They knew Mr.
Beecher's confidence in her truthfulness; and
to impair that confidence was a difficult task.
There was only one way in which this could
be done beyond a possibility of a doubt. To
obtain from her a mere retraction of her
charges against her husband would not
suffice, for Mr. Beecher would easily suspect that she had done this either from affection or from fear. But if she could be by any
means brought to make an accusation against
Beecher himself, then he and Tilton would
stand on the same ground, both accused by
the same woman; and Beecher, knowing the
accusation against himself to be false, could no
longer place the slightest confidence in the
charges which she bad made against her hbusband. They knew, moreover, how reluctant
he would be to attack, even in his own defense, a woman who had long been in relations of friendship and sympathy with him,
and who was now lying upon her sick bed.
They knew that he would rather be sacrificed
himself than save his own reputation by
war upon her. This suggestion was the suggestion of the devil; and it was now carried
out with a skill, an audtcity and a heartless
ness worthy of its author.
We have seen how Mrs. Tilton had been
controlled and entrapped into signing an accusation ingeniously framed so as to be especially disastrous to the reputation of her
pastor. Thus far the scheme had been successful; and it only remained to carry it
through in such a manner as to convince
Beecher that Mrs. Tilton had voluntarily
made this accusation and the success of the
plan would be compldte. Tlhus, with these
ideas seething in his miiind, Tilton sat awaiting Beecher's arrival, conscious that unless
this desperate plan of himself and his friend
succeeded he was a ruined man. Meanwil6
Moulton had gone down to Beecher's hot~;.
35
his wife, and how skillfully, under the advice
of this Mutual Friend, he used it.
A NEW PURPOSE.
I 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
and with an air of politeness but of great
earnestness, had requested Mr. Beecher to
come to his house to hold an interview with
Theodore Tilton.   Mr. Beechber  naturally
guessed that this proposed interview had some
bearing upon the letter which he had recently received from Tilton, and the motive of
which was ai utter mystery to him.  Sending for Mr. Bell to take charge of his meeting, he went with Moulton, and on the way
inquired what was the object of the interview,
to which Moulton replied that he had better
let Tilton tell it himself.
him to   i ow     to his own tble, to  le ave him in a bedroom with   his  own wif   e  f  or four hours, and
listened withh complacency to her narrat iv e of
the manner  in    which  she had affectionately
tucked him up on the sofa, and  kiss ed him o n
the forehead, the tears of sympathy streami ng down her cheeks I To  pro  eitect the interests
of Plymouth Church, an institution which
he now hates with a  bitter  h atred, bec aus e it
still believes what he originally said of its
pastor, he was anxious    to deceive th at church
intto accepting the m in istrat io ns of at man
whom he now characterizes as a wolf in the
fold, and rejoiced in seeing this man continue to preach the doctrines of Christianity
from that pulpit! To promote the interests
of that Christianity in which he did not believe, and to honor that God whose name he
never used except as a by-word, he tells you
now that lie told hundreds of lies, that he
invented all manner of schemes, that he
bullied some men, that he coaxed others,
that he made his own wife the associate and
companion of loose women, and divided her
lips between his own kiss and the kiss of
Victoria Woodhull. All this, and more, he
was willing to do in behalf of these great
interests, which, if his story be true. could
only have been truly served from the first
moment by casting out the alleged criminal
from his place of trust and protecting innocent families from the wiles and intrigues of
a seducer.
But when the time came  that  Mr.  Moulton's  interests were  touched, when   he
thought that h/s good name, such as it was,
was to be injured, a name which he had not
hesitated to defile by contact with sinks of
infamy, his regard for the peace of families,
for the interests of Plymouth Church and for
the cause of Christianity suddenly vanished,
and be devoted himself with blind fury and
with a single aim to the gratification of revenge.
But, gentlemen, yon must not allow yourselves, for a moment, to imagine that Mr.
Moulton, who told hundreds of lies for the
sake of Christianity, in which he did no,t believe, will now tel I a single falsehood for the
sake of himself! You must not imagine
that the  man who would gladly associate
with prostitutes, and take pleasure in seeing
them kiss his wife, all for the sake of the honor
of the Church and the good of society, would
dream of associating with prostitutes for his
own pleasure. Oh, no! When Francis D.
Moulton steps upon this witness stand, and
seeing the man for whom he acknowledges a
deadly hate sitting before him, takes an oath
upon the Gospel which he never reads, and
in the name of a God whose existence to him
is a jest, he suddenly becomes absolutely
truthful, and demands of you with unhesita ting confidence that you shall nlot doubt a
single word he utters.
While they were on the road an incident
occurred, according to Moulton's account of
the affair, which will justify a short digres   sion from the main subject.  He tells you
that having learned that very evening for
the first time that Beecher, the pastor of his
own wife, had most infamously debauched
the wife of Moulton's most intimate friend,
that circumstance impelled him, for the first
time in his life, to proffer to Beecher a life  long friendship of his own accord.  Without
a hint from Beecher of his own desire for
such services, Moulton said to him, "I am
not a Christian, I am a heathen; but, if you
wish, I will show you how well a heathen
can serve you."  And fromx that moment
there sprung up the strictest  and firmes          t
friendship (so he says) between himself and
the man whom he now describe., and whom,
if he speaks truly, he must then have known
as a libertine.  He assures you that for four
years after that time lie strove day and night
to serve and save the man whom he now de  nounces with such intense bitterness, and
who, according to his own account, has add  ed not one whit to his sins since that time,
except that there came a time when he re  fused any longer to follow Moulton's lead in
this matter.  That is the only crime which
has changed  the friend, whom  Moulton
would sacrifice so much  to save, into the
enemy he now hates and would do so much
to destroy.  Mr. Moulton has been at some
pains to explain to the public his motives in
offering and maintaining this friendship.  It
seems that it was the peace of families, the
interests of Plymouth Church, the cause of
Christianity, which moved this heathen to
undertake the task of maintaining in the
first pulpit of America the man who, if what
Moulto     n  now s  ay  s          of him be true, deserves
to have his name a by-word and a hissing
among men. To preserve the peace of fami  lies Mr. Moulton was willing to introduce a
man who he now says was a practiced seducer,
into his own household, to recommend him
to t e confidence of his own wife, to place
..td  iwn child under his teachings, to invite
36
MR. MOUIlrON'S CONDUCT TOWARI)S
MR. BEECHER. 
WHAT WAS THE CHARGE I
against him in this interview on the 26th. It
is an unconscious piece of testimony, that in
my judgment outweighs the mere assertions
of any number of men who are interested ia
producing upon your minds ta particular impression. It is the act of the parties. It shows
how they felt and how they acted on this
occasion.
And right here, gentlemen, in approaching
the discussion of the question, permit me to
say that this case is peculiar in this respect:
all the acts of all these parties, from the time
that this charge was first intimated down to the
time that Theodore Tilton made his charge
of adultery before the Church Committee,
have been inconsistent with the crime of
adultery. From the beginning to the end of
it, strike it where you will, where you find
one of these parties performing an act, that
act id utterly inconsistent with the existence
of adultery. Their whole evidence against
Mr. Beecher here consists of wordk; of language which they say he has uttered from
time to time. But the acts of Mr. Tilton on
the night of the 30th of December; his
whole conduct from July up to that time, the
conduct of Mr. Beeche:', the conduct of Mr.
Moulton, the conduct of all of them combined, the acts of all of them, wherever you
strike an act, are inconsisten t with the charge
of adultery.   This accusation, I repeat, rests
entirely upon words and upon nothing else.
But to return now to the interview to
which Mr. Moulton introduces Mr. Beecher
on this stormy winter's night.  I desire to
call your attention in this connection, gentlemen, to a fact which Mr. Moulton states in
his evidence; and I desire to refer you to the
unconscious testimony which the action of
both of these parties, according to the evidence of Mr. Tilton, furnishes of the innocence of Mr. Beecher.  Mr. Moulton tells
you that, on his way to his own house, lihe
told Mr. Beecher of the stories and slanders
which Bowen had reported against him in the
interview of the 26th of December. You will
remember the language that he makes Mr.
Beecher  use  on  that occasion.  He says:
"Did he? I am surprised at that; for Bowen
said nothing to me of that kind."  It was
evidently, according to Mr. Moulton's testimony, the first that Mr. Beecher had heard
that Mr. Bowen had been guilty of slandering him at that interview.   When he is introduced into the presence of Mr. Tilton, I
desire to call your attention to Mr. Tilton's
evidence of what occurred.   Mr. Tilton says
the first thing hlie said to Mr. Beecher was.;
"You received a letter from me, I suppose."
Mr. Beether says: "I did."  "I wi-h you to
consider the letter withdrawn, as if it was
never written."   "Then," says Mr. Tilton,
"I introduced the name of Elizabeth, and
began to state to him what I had learned
from Elizabeth.   At that instant," says Mr.
Tilton,  "Mr. Beecher  interiupted me and
said:' But what about the stories that Mr.
Bowen told you concerning me on the 26th?' "
And Mr. Tilton says: "Since you ask it, I
will tell you," and stopped his narrative and
wept on to repeat to Mr. Beecher the.accusations which Mr. Bowen had made against
him.   Now, gentlemen, I desire you to consider, if Mr. Beecher was conscious up to that
moment that he was confronting an injured
husband who was about to accuse him of
having seduced his wife, do you think he
would have interrupted the husband in that
accusation by a reference to the mere slanders
of Bowen, saying: "Tell me first about what
Bowen said about me?"   Do you think, if
this great clergyman was conscious that he
was to be assailed on that evening with such
a charge as that, it would not have been the
one thing that would have absorbed all his
dttention, and that the questions of the mere
slanders that Bowen had uttered against him
a week before would have made any impression on his mind?  The very fact that he
interrupted Mr. Tilton as soon as he had
introduced the name of Elizabeth, shows you,
gentlemen, that Mr. Beecher was thinking of
nothing at that time except the information
which he had j ust, for the first time, received,
to wit, that Bowen had(l been uttering slanders
37
THE INTERVIEW OF DECEMBER 30.
WEIAT WAS THE CHARGE?
Now, what was the charge which Tilton
made aginst Mr. Beecher on that night?
This is the most important question in this
inquiry, gentlemen, and to it I now invite
your serious attention; lecause, if we satisfjr
you that on that night Mr. Tilton did not
charge Mr. Beecher with the crime of adultery, you will consider this case disposed of.
You will not listen to any charge subsequently invented of a graver offense than that
which was brought to Mr. Beeclier'sattention
on thit night. Thev are bound by that.-ict;
they cannot charge that interview as one of
the exigencies by which they have been
induced to lie to conceal this crime. They
brought Mr. Beecher into their presence to
make the accusation, and by the accusation
there made they must stand or fall. You
will not permit them to change it. I intend
to hold them there, and I intend to demonstrate to your understandings as clear as the
noon-day sun in Reaven, that that charge
was not adultery.
In the first place, gentlemen, Tilton's conduct from July to December has been utterly
inconsistent with the existence of this pretended knowledge. He says, and asks you
to believe now, that all he ]knew on that
night lie had known for six months, and yet
it had Dot cven ruffled the temper of Th 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
fat, sleek, and lhappy, meeting Mr. Beecherand
negotiating with himn oa a business matter,
bringing before him accusations which Beecher had made affecting the business of Tilton,
and winding up with an accusation thathiswife
had confessed an undue affe tion for him, and
had charged him with having attempted her
virtue. That the charge was not adultery,
gentlemen, is proven from the fact that on the
26th he had stated  his accusation against
Beecher to Bowen, and it was not a charge of
adultery, but it was a charge of unhandsome
advances.  He tells you that he had made
that same accusation against Beecher to Moul
ton on the same day.
Now, these are the two first occasions in
the history of this case where we find that
Tilton is giving public utteranc s to these -iccusatioiis,,and those utterances consist of a
charge of improper proposals and not of adul
tery. Would he dared, after hiving said to
Henry C. Bowen on the 26th, and to Moulton
on the same day, that Mr. Beecher was guilty
of improper advances, to turn round and charge
Henry Ward Beecher with the crime of'.,dultery on the 30th? Here he had got three witnesses to confront him and prove the falsehood c,f that charge if he made it-Bowen,
Oliver Johnson, who was presen t, and Francis
D. Moulton. In the presence of three men he
had Raid four days before that that charge
was a charge of improper advances. Would
he have dared in the face of that evidence to
turn suddenly about, and but four days afterwards, I repeat, charge adultery upon Henry
Ward Beecher? But we shall not stop there,
gentlemen, with this case. We shall show
you that Mr. Tilton has stated to not less
than five different people of the higest
respectability in this city, men whose reputation stands unquestioned, in  narrating that
interview which took place between himself
and Henry Ward Beecher t i,at niglt-we sh all
show you that he said that lie charged Henry
Whard Beecher with improper proposals, and
nothing else. We shall show you that to one
of these persons he made that declaration
within a week after the interview occurred.
He is a man of the highest character, whom
most of you will know, when lie is presented
on the witness stand. It was a man who had
bl}en one of the intimate friends of Theodore
Tilton; and Theodore Tilton in relating to
him the difficulties between himself and Ml.
Beecher, charged Mr. Beecher in that interview with being the cause of his overthrow
with Bowen. He said that he had got him
turned out: that Beecher and his wife and
Mrs. Morse were responsible for the loss of
place and position, which he had suffered; and
then he told him that Beecher had been guilty
of improper proposals to his wife, and that
he had sent for him on this evening of the
30th, at Moulton's house, and charged him
with it face to face. And we shall show you
dore Tilton. There was not even a domestic
jar in the family arising on account of this
information.  Theodore Tilton was then edi.
tor of The Independent and of The Brooklyn
Union.  He was a prosperous nears, doing
well, and you never hear lipsed a word front
Theodore Tilton in regard to the existence of
this charge until December, when, as he himself stys,  he          fell into bus           iness troubles with
H       enry C. Bowen, which, to use       the language
of I        is sworn statement, were augmented by
she Rev. Henry War(d Beecher and his wife,;
wherefore, say- Mr. Tilton in his sworn statement: " At the instance of my wife, Elizabeth, who wrote a letter- to Mr. Beecher, I
sought an interview with lim." Until business troubles came upon Mr. Tilton there was
n) suggestion  of offense  -against him  by
Henry Ward Beecher.  It was only when he
found that his wife had left him; that Mrs.
Morse, as he says, was insisting she should
not return to him; that Mrs. Beecher was engaged in consultation with Mrs. Morse; that
Henry Ward Beecher was also (ngalged in
consultation with that wife and givilig her
advice; when he found also that Mr. Beecher
was crediting the stories that were in circul.tion against him, and when he found himself
liable to be dismissed from the employ of
Henry C. Bowen, his position of influence and
his means of support taken away from him,
then it was that 1. e conceived the idea, on the
26th day of December, of entering into this
conspiracy with Henry C. Bowen to make a
scandalous  charge  agatinst  Henry  Ward
Beeclher, and thus drive him from Brooklyn.
I start there with Mr. Tilton.  I sly that,
from his own showing, if he is to be believed
in what he says transpired at the interview
between himself and Henry C. Bowen, if they
did there concoct these scandalous mnatters
and sent that letter to Henry Ward Beecher
for the purpose of intimidating him and drivew
ing him out of Brooklyn at the peril of undergoing a grave investigation for scandal, then
lie is tainted as a conspirator against Beecher,
and  E tands  as  a conspirato)r from  that
day to this.  That conspiracy is fo)rmed, and
the only question there is about it is, when
did Mr. Moulton enter that conspiracy. Now,
we say that the charge was not the charge of
adultery.  We  say it is not possible that if
Theodore Tilton is made of the flesh and
blood that other men are made of-it is not
possible that he carried that terrible secret in
his breast for six months.  If he had known
what  he professes  to have known,  there
would have been nothing left of Theodore
Tilton but his skeleton to confront Henry
Ward Beecher on that terrible night in December.   I do not believe that any man can
carry loclked within his bosom any such terrible secret as that and remain undisturbed.
But it h-d not disturbed Tilton.  On that
night he stood six feet two in his stockings,
38
-1 
WVIAT WAS THE CHARGE? 
Never  to this day has he  seen it.  It was
only a pretext  by which they imposed  upon
this feeblewoman.   But beyond that, gentle men, what was ill that letter?
Was that letter a confession of adultery, as
they now say it was, or was it what she says
it wais in that letter that they induced her to
sign to Dr. Storrs-a charge of improper proposals?  That is the vital question in this
case.  It is the most important question that
you have  to consider.  Upon  it very much
of this case hinges.  Certainly, so far as the
plaintiff's case is concerned, it turns entirely
upon this question.   If I can satisfy you,
gentlemen, that that letter did rot contain a
charge of  adultery, then, of  course, the
plaintiff's case ends.  Why don't they produce that  letter?  If thhev would produce i t,
it would end the question of fact in volved   in
this  issue  on this pointa  wouldn't it?  There
would be no room for discussion, no room for
argument. It would settle this question one
way or the other, and it would tell you who
is falsifying here and who is telling the
truth. They only need to produce that letter
to determine this whole question.  Where is
it? Why don't they produce it? They had
it. They promised to keep it, sacredly, on
the evening when Francis D. Moulton obtained that retraction from Henry Ward
Beecher.   Their failure to produce it now is
the most outrageous breach of faith I ever
knew to characterize a litigant in a court of
j ustice.
Henry Ward Beecher had gone from this
interview at Moulton's house to this sick
wife, and he there confronted her with the
accusation which he had received from her
husband. She hardly knew what she had
made.   She knew that she had given a letter
to her husband, but whether sloe hal a, faint,
glimmering conception of the charge, or
whether she took it for granted that she bad
charged Mr. Beecher as lier husband had told
Mr. Beecher she had charged him, we do not
know. We only know that now she has no
knowledge or conception of what was in that
letter. But when confronted with the friend
that she had injured, when she found the
use that was being made of it, when she
found it was being perverted, she gave a retractioti of that  cha-rge to her friend and
pastor that night in the following language:
" DECEMBER 30, 1870.
Wearied by importunity and weakened by sickness, I gave a letter inculpating my friend Henry
Ward Beeclher, under assurances that that would
remove all difficulties between me and my husband.
That letter I now revoke. I was persuaded to italmost forced-when I was in a weakened state of
mind. I regret it, and recall all its statements.
(Signed)        E. R. TILTON.
I desire to say explicitly, Mr. Beecher has never
offered any improper solicitations, but has always
treated me in a manner becoming a Christian and a
gentleman.
(Signed)      ~ELIZABETI JR. [rlLTON..
further, gentlemen, that he told this person
that Henry War(d Beecher denied it, and
when lie denied it he told him: "If you don't
believe that Elizabeth has made this charge, go
and s ee          her for yourself," and Beecher went.st
We shall show you that, I say, by not less
than five different persons, to whom Mr. Tilton has given   that narration.  But        we shall
show you more, gentlemen; we have shown
you more.  We have   shownyoutt that that is
the truth from  the wr                           it ten testimony  of
T         h     eodore Tilton           h        imself.
I refer now  again          to    the        "True Story;"
and h       e re let m e  s ay aga in            t t that the resui-rection of this part of  that " True  Story" is al.
most  a providential      occurrenc      e            in favor of
this defendant. Last August, when he was
compelled by          this              attack to make a public
s                 tatement before the Committee,  when every
paper connected with this transaction had
bee     n  d epos ited  in the hands                   of  this mutual
frend, who hiad  refused to allow him  access
to one of them,    and he  was compelled to
draw simply upon his own memory for this
occurrence, without being able to corroborate
it by a sing le wr itten paper, he gtve                       the interview          that occ  urred between himself  and
Th eodo    re Til ton on       that occasion,   an      d he
stated it substantially as Theodore Tilton had
written it d     own in thi      s  "Tr ue    S       tory"  in
1872.  Mr. Beecher                      says: " In that  interview,       as T  ilton wen t       on with lcis                            o tccusation,
I  grew indignant, and w    as abou  t to itterrupt
him, arn      d h e see ing that I was about to interrupt him, stopped me and said:' Wait until
1 get        through;' and when           he finisehe d h e sdid
to me:                I  If y ou ha ve  any doubt     that Elizabeth has said this, gel and see for vourself.' "
This is  the precise story that Tilton told
these i ndividuals. Now, Mr. Tilton tells you
that Mr. B eech  er  humbly      asked his permission to go  a    nd see M   rs.        Tilton at the conclusion      of  thi s     accu sation, and  that li e granted
h    im permission under  cer     tain injunctions.
We shall show you        that Mr. Beecher   rejected
mnis alleg      ation        that Mrs. Tilton  ever  made
such  an accusation. Tilton llad               not the paper
with him, and, gentlemen, he durst not
show it if he had. He never showed this
paper to H      enry  Ward B eecher, and he was
obliged        me theefore to  sen d hi m t                      (    d Mirs.          Tilton.
Another fact that will strike you as remarkable. The basis of this interview was a letter
obtained from Alis. Tilton. mark you. That
was the pretext  under which it was obtained
front Mrs. Ti                             lton,  but it was never used for
that purpose. Never forget that fact,       gentle
men,                             in your consideration of this case, that
when such a letter was needed to bring about
an interview with Henry Ward Beecher, the
pretense was made to this sick and almost
dy,ing woman that it was to rescue her husbatid from  difficulty, from busirness troubles
and business embarrassments; ~ silt that letter
was never shown to Henry Ward Beechef.
39 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
guage which implied a confession of guilt;
and he put it in that statement for that purpose. so that when it was read by the great
public as it was published in the newspapers,
they would  see that Beecher returned to
Tilton that night and used language which
virtually amounted to a confession of the
offense.  Yet Tilton is now obliged to tell
you, and Moulton tells you, that Beecher did
not see Tilton at all; arnd therefore this statement is entirely untrue.  Nor did he say anything of the kind to Moulton; that is not
pretended.  Now, on this trial, as the evidence stands, it is not claimed that any such
expression was made by Beecher to either
Moulton or Tilton on that night.
Well, gentlemen, Mr. Tilton goes home that
night, thinking probably  theie was  something strange that Mr. Beecher had not called
on him again, and wants to know what had
transpired between himself and wife. And
I come  now  to another contradiction of
Mr. Tilton in his sworn statement. He says
in that statement that hlie found  his wife
weeping and almost distracted at the situation in which she had involved herself by
the charge  and by its retraction.  We sha ll
show you, gentlemen,  that he found his wife
sound asleep that night, on his return, enjoying the only period of happiness that she had
been accustomed to know for several long
years, namelv, when she was wrapped in
sleep. She was in bed with her nurse. Theodore Tilton entered that room, awoke his
wife, and entered into a conversation with her
which awoke the nurse, who found Mrs. Tilton sitting up in bed, and terribly agitated.
And then Mr. Tilton drove the nurse out of
the room, and locked the door; and the
nurse went into an adjoining room with a
blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and
sat there for a long time, while she listened
to Tilton's loud and angry conversation with
his wife. Finally he came out into the room
and got pen and ink and paper, and went
back, and produced the next day this explanation of his wife of the retraction which she
bad given to Mr. Beecher.
But you see, gentlemen, the situation in
which this retraction had involved Mr. Tilton. He had made the charge, in the first
instance, supposing that Mr. Bowven was to
back it; so he says. Failing in that, he had
obtained from his wife in some manner a letter which he said inculpated Mr. Beecher;
and, backed by that, he confronted Mr.
Beecher and made the accusation; but he
sends Mr. Beecher to his wife for the verification, and she retracts. Not only that, gentlernen, she does mrore: she makes a statement which, in effect, char-es her husband
with having extorted that paper from her.
Mr. Tilton, therefore, found himself, on his
return that night, robbed of his evidence
against Mr. Beechor; but he found that Mr.
Now, gentlemen, that retraction  i tself furnis            h    es conclusive evidence of  the nature of
the charge  which                Mr. Tilton made to Mr.
Beecher.  You see that it does not l etract              a
c         harge of adultery.  There is no allusion to
the offense    d of adultery in this retraction at
all. It is a retraction of improper solicitations. Do                       you believe,  gentlemen, that     if
the charge had been one of adultery against
H    enry War   d  B eecher              that night,  he would
have gone down to the sick woman and contented himself with a cha rge    simply    of imp     rop er solicitations?  Don't yo u t hin k th at
the          retract ion would h av e b e       en    as broad as
the charge?      W        ould   he have        be    en satisfied
with         anything less?  But ho   w happens  it,
gentlemen, if the                 charge was adultery, and
nothing h ad been said ab out       improper solicitations —how           happens it   that you find those
words, improper solicita      tions,"  in                     the lan
guage  of  one of      thes e            parties on that very
evening? But                     there is more than that in
this retraction which indicates the nature of
the                charge. You will  see      the at  the first letter,
written and sig n       ed by Mrs. T  ilton, makes no
reference at all    to the n atu   re     of the charge.
When                   that is discovered she immediately
adds a p        ostscript to it, covering  the charge
which she  understoo d       to  be made     b      i y her
husba                             n and. Can  you  hav  e more conclusive
evidence furnis    hed     you of t h   e  nature of the
charge which Theodore T   ilton t hen  ma d e
than this furnishes? I apprehend not.
Mr.  B eecher  takes  this          retraction, returns
to Moulton's house, and                    does not see him
hagain    t hat night; and here, g     entlemen, is               a
slight contradiction of Mr. Tilton, to which
I desire to call your attention, to show you
that even he, witth all his effort to be accurate, is unable to state tLis transaction twice
alike. It is now conceded                that  h     e d     id not
see Mr. Beecher    on th at night after Beecherf
left him at Moulton's house. That is agreed
by both Tilton and Moulton; and yet, gentlemen, in the statement before the Committee he says: " Beecher returned, expressed
remorse and shame, and declared that his
life and works seemed brought to a sudden
end." And lie swore to that statement before
the Committee. Now he concedes that that is
false, -And that he did not see Beecher at all
that night after he left him at Moulton's
house to go to hlis own house to see his wife.
How are you to trust Mr. Tilton's evidence
in the midst of so many contradictions?
And that was not a hasty statement, gentlemetn. It is in evidence here before you, that
Theodore Tilton took ten days to prepare
that statement. He had all that time, therefore, to make himself entirely accurate. He
had access to all the papers. He had no difficulty in fortifying his memory and speaking correctly upon these subjects.  Yet in
that statement he deliberately says that Mr.
tBeecher returned to his hlouse and used lan
40
-T
'e 
41
SIGNIFICANCE OF THE DESTRUCTION OF THE PAPER.
Beecher had ill his possession the written
statemient of his wife, which virtually accused
him of having extorted that charge from her.
What wis his situation then?  He was in the
absolute power of Henry Ward Beecher.  All
Mr. Beecher had to do to crush him from existence was to publish the fact, first, of the
letter of the 26th, and then, how Tilton extorted from his wife this charge against him
on the 29th, and then publish the wife's own
handwriting, sayin)g that that charge  was
false and was extorted from her when upon a
sick bed, by her husband.  Mr. Beecher, I
repeat, had him absolutely in his power.  He
had nothing to do but to establish the facts
to absolutely crush him.  Theodore Tilton
and his wise friend saw this situation.  We
shall show you that Mr. Tilton fully appreciated it on his return to that house that
night.  They must get that retraction; they
must get it out of the hands of Henry Ward
Beecher. And how were they to do it? They
got the explanation that night, which is a
mere explanation, as I shall have occasion to
show you in a moment.  But that was not
sufficient.  When he came to consult his adviser the next morning, Moulton told him
that Mr. Beecher probably would not surrender that retraction at his request; that they
must have the request of Elizabeth Tilton,
the one who gave it to Mr. Beecher, to induce him to surrender it.  And so they go to
this sick woman again and get from her another paper, which  is addressed to Moulton, the' mutual friend," and which I will
read in this connection:
"MY DEAR FRANK:                                                         s [This is "Saturday morning," without other
date.]
"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. Please bring both to
me and I will burn them.
Show this to Theodore and Mr. Beecher. They
will see the propriety of this request.
E. R. TILTO N."
That was the paper which they saw that
they must get fiotii Mrs. Tilton to procure
this retraction.  They obtained it, and on the
next night Moulton goes to Beecher armed
with this paper and asks for this retraction.
He shows him that letter, and Mr. Beecher
objects to surrendering the paper,  He says:
"If I should die, what would my family
have to protect their name and mine after I
am gone?  Supposing this charge is renewed,
if I surrender this paper what is to protect
my fame hereafter?"  Moulton says: "You
give it to me, and I pledge to you my word
of honor I will do one of two things; I will
either destroy both the accusation and this
retraction, here, in your presence, or I will
keep both together, so that one never shall
appear without the other."  He gave  Mr.
Beecher his choice, and Mr. Beecher says:
Why  have they dest royed it? Wh y is this,
the most important paper  il the  case, missi ng,
when every other paper that sheds a particle
of light upon the case has been carefully preser ed  by   this pai nstaking    and   laborious
" mutual friend". There is not a scrap of
paper or writing from Mr. Beecher, which
could throw the slightest light upon this case.
but that they   ha ve   preserved and garnered
up with  a care th at  indicates that they consider it worth many times its weight in gold,
more precious to them than diamonds. Every
one of these letters can be construed by their
oral statement into an accusation or confession of guilt. Why is the one paper-the
one thing that would have settled this case,
missing here? Do they pretend that they
dest-'oyed it with the knowledge and consent
of Henry Ward Beecher? Noo! Wras he
consulted about it? No. Did he assent to
it? No. They say they destroyed it. They
tell you they destroyed it after the " tripartite agreement." Where is the logic, gentlemen, of taking out this one single paper and
destroying that, and preserving all the
others? If the "tripartite agr-eement " had
been intended to be executed by them in the
good faith in which it professed to have been
made, and to be a final settlement of all this
difficulty, then I concede to you that there
would have been logic and reason and propriety in the destruction of all the papers
that bore upon this case. But why the
destruction of this one single paper' Why
the picking out of this scrap from Monlton's
archives and consigning this-to the flames,
when they husbanded all the others? I will tell
you why, gentlemen. We will show you that
this paper could not have been destroyed, if.
it has been destroyed at all, until the conspiracy was hatched between Theodore Tilton and
Victoria Woodhull to charge   Henry Ward
Beecher with adultery, and then the suppres
" I- don't want the retraction destroyed;
keep them batti.1' That was the promise on
which he obtained from Mr. echer this
retraction.
I repeat now, gentlemen, with more significance, I trust, than I did when Ifirst alluded
to the sui-)ject, where is that letter? Why
has it been destroyed? Why have these
parties broken the solemn pledge,- under which
t hey obtained from the hands of Heinry Ward
Beecher this evidence of his innocence? l[f
that letter could be produced to-day, we say
it would satisfy you that the charge there
made was not a charge of adultery, but a
charge of improper proposals, just as the retraction says it was. We say, put the letter
and the retraction to,,-,ether, and they both fit
each other and cover the case.
SIGNIFICANCE OF THE DESTRUCTION
OF THE PAPER. 
OPENING FOR
sion of this paper became absolutely necessary
to the scheme. They could not live a moment
with that paper in Mr. Beecher's reach.  It
would blast every man and woman that would
have connected himself or herself with the
scheme. He would only hlave to produce it to
convince every man in the community of the
conspiracy.  Suppression, therefore, became
imperative, an absolute necessity; but the
paper was never destroyed, if it has been
destroy       ed t  o  this day (which we do not
believe, and which vou have  no evidence to
prov       e bu   t Theodore Tilton's), until after they
had per       f      ec     ted      th    at conspiracy.
Now,       gentl emen, we sha ll  show you by             a
witness who has no superior for integrity in
t         he city,     aman whose  word will stuid un questioned by you, a  man who  was one
of Theodore Tilton's most intimate friends
when his rcourse    entitled him t o the friendship
of honorable m en- that after the p     ub       lic       ation
of the  Woodhull scandal  Mr. Tilton  showed
to this man a             copy of the     identical paper  that
he  said he had presented        to Henry Ward
BAecher on the night of the 30th of D    ecember.
They say it was destroyed immediately after
the "tripartite agreement."  We will show
you, I repeat, t         hat hfe pr oduced it to a man,
and read it, and said:  "This is the paper
that I pres   ente d to H enry Ward Beeche r on
that night;" and when that man, looking at
thepaper, says: "Is         that in Mrs. T.lton's
handwriting?" he says: " No, it is a col)y,
but the original is  with Frank Moulton."
And   tha       t wa s aft er  the Woodhull publi c ation.
Now,gentlemen, i        f w e  show  you                  that fact,
I t hink t hea    t  will  end t his case, and  reveal
this c        onspir acy in  a light so plaia  that eve n
he who muns       may       read."
But, to show you, gentlemen, how unworthy     of cmedit are  the   witnesses  on the part of
t    he plaintiff,  I need c all   to your attention
but a single instance in  the  testimony of
Francis D. Moulton. It is concerning the
letter  whic      h         they ob tained from Mrs. Tilton
on S        aturday m or ning the 31st of Dc e   mber,
and on which they sought the return of this
retraction  from Mr.  Beecher.  N        ow,  gentlemen, i     f  t her e   is  any            one fact in  this case
which must have made its impression upon
the minids of  t      hese two witnesses, i t is that
night of    the 30th of December and the ensuing day. No  even             t in            the life of Theodo,re
Tilt          on                  ever compared with it in impodrtance.
The  brin ging of an  accusatio n against a man
so eminent as Henry Ward Beechler, possessing
the confidence  of the public            as he did-the
bringing of any  accusation which involved
moral turpitude against him, was a most important act. Mr. Tilton must have appreciated the consequences of it, as did his
friend Francis J). Moulton from the start,
because you see he began to make memoranda at once. Now, they found themselves
completely flanked by Mr. ]3eecher obtaining
this letter   of  retraction from the w ife  on the
night  of the 30th o f December. Neverl  was
disorganization and dismay sent into the camp
of an army more perfect and absolute than
the dismay and disorganization which struck
Francis D. Moulton and Theodore Tilton
when   Mr. Beecher had obtain ed this retrac tion f r om  Mrs. Tilton. They went to  get a
letter from Mrs. Tilton; they obtained it;
and yet,    when we as k Mr.  Moulto n ho w this
letter was o btained he   i s      utterly unable to
t e ll you.  It is the  most  remarkkble ins tance
of want of memor that    I have ever  seen  in
my experience in the trial of causes. He says
in the first place, as you remember, gentle men, that he thinks he went to the house
and asked Mrs. Tilton for it, and he thinks
he went into the sick-room and saw her; but
he don't know. He thinks she wrote it
there, but he don't know. He don't know
whether her husband  accompanied  him  to
the house or not.  He don't know whether
the husband accompanied him into the sick room or not. Finally, he don't know whe ther he was in the house at all, or in the sick
room  at all.  He  has  no recollection of
s eeing her writing th e letter at all; and
finally, he don't know but he got the letter
from the hands of Theoe,ore Tilton himself.
Now, I will read you the evidence on this
subject. Upon his direct examination he
says to Mr. Fullerton:
" Q. How did yoii receive that note-from
whom? A. I think from Elizabeth Tilton
direct.
Mr. Porter-From her? A. From her di.
rectlv.
Mr. Evarts-Not personally-at her house?
A. Yes, sir."'
He had not any difficulty on the direct examination iat answering where he got the
letter, but on the cross-examination you will
see how his memory fails him. I read from
the cross-examination.
",Q Did you see Mrs. Tilton? A. I think
I did; yes, sir. My recolle.ction is that I
went to the house anta saw Mrs. Tilton.
Q. Where did you see her? A.  In her
room, I think, sir.
Q. In her room? A. Yes, sir.
Q. Sick-room? A. Yes, siir, I didn't know
whether it wa,s a sick-room or jlot. I saw
her.
Q. Was she in bed or not? A. I do not remember."
Now, gentlemen, perhaps you will' believe
that a manl who went to. house to see a lady
to obtain so important a paper as that, and
went into her room and got the letter from
her in that room, would not remember whether she was in bed or not when he went in.
You may believe that, but I do not thinik
you will.
"Q. WVas her husband with you? A. I do not
remember that he was:
42
THE DEFENSE. 
M1OULTON EQUALLY A CONSPIRATOR WITH TILTON.
pose of Francis D. Moulton.  You remember
that he told you he had been the intimate
friend of Theodore  Tilton from  boyhood.
He says he learned on this night that  his
friend's wife had been debauched  by  Mr.
Beecher, and Tilton had consulted him in regard to that matter as a friend. The question
we are now considering is whether Moulton
is a conspirator with Tilton against Henry
Ward Beecher.   Having been consulted by
his most intimate friend. and having pledged
him his friendship in this transaction, he
goes down to Henry Ward Beecher and invites Mr. Beecher up to this interview; and
he tells you, gentlemen, that before  Mr.
Beecher reached his house  he pledged his
fi iendship  and  fidelity  to  Henry  Ward
Beecher in this same matt,r.  Now,  that he
was the sincere friend of Mr.  Tilton you
know; nobody will doubt that. Was he the
friend of Henry Ward Beecher, and was he
actuated by good faith when he made that
promise?  That is the only question for you
to consider here in order to determine the
character in which Mr. Moulton stands in
this case.  If you believe that this assurance
to Mr. Beecher was made in bad faith for the
purpose of getting his confidence, that m:ikes
Moulton a conspirator with Theodore Tilton
in this transaction. But, further, gentlemen,
he  goes back to Henry Ward Beecher on the
31st, and requests the return of the retractioni, presenting a letter of Mrs. Tilton; and
he obtains the retraction  and goes away.
Now, he knew at that time that he obtained
this retraction by presenting this letter of
Mrs. Tilton.   Yet, when the matter is fist
published by the Woodhulls, it is published
by them in this way; Mr. Tilton is represented as saying: " My friend took a pistol,
went to Mr. Beecher, and demanded the
letter of Mrs. T. under the pain of instant
death." That was one of the most severe
charges against Mr. Beecher in the article.
In Mr. Tilton's statement, and in all of
Mr. Moulton's statements, they had conveyed
the idea, in one form of language and
another, that Mr. Beecher was compelled in
some way to surrender that retraction to
them; that is, that they demanded it of him,
and ie surrendered it; and the question
which has influenced the public against Mr.
Beecher more  than any other fact is the
question, how he came to surrender this retraction upon the demand of Moulton that
night. They have always concealed the fact
that they had Mrs. Tilton's letter, who had
a right to demand its return; and that they
presented that letter to Mr. Beecher, and
upon that induced him to surrender the
retraction.   That is a fact always concealed
by these men, never made public until forced
out ofah    them i n th is judicial investigation.
Has that concealmnent been made in good
faith?or has it been one of the tricks of
Q. Do you remember that he was not? A. I don't
remember that he was not.
Q. Did he go to the house with you? A. I don't
remember that.
Q. Do you know how you went to that house? A.
If [ weiit to the house I rode.
Q. Did Mr. Tilton ride with yon? A. I don't
think he did.
Q. Do you remember that he did not I A. To the
best-the best of my recollection is that he did not.
Q. Was he in the house when you went there I
A. I don't recollect.
Q. Whether he wac or not? A. No.
Q. From the time you went in until the time you
came away, you do.'t recollect seeing Mr. Tilton
there? A  Idonot.
Q. And don't know that he was there? A. Don't
recollect that he was.
Q. Or that he was not? A. Don't recollect that
he was there.
Q. Well, do you recollect that he was not A. I
don't recollect that he was there.
Q. Was that letter written in your presence I A.
Don't recollect whether it was or not.
Now, gentlemen,    we   have shown you  that
Mrs. Tilton was sick tht it                    n that night and that day.
This explanation, which I will read to you in
moment, shows that    she was  sick in bed, an d
we shall show you she was sick in bed on that
occasion.   She had been attended by                        her
physician every day, from the 24t until the
b0th.      And yet t  his man, who went  there to
ob tain this le  tter, d  on' t  k now  wh et     her she
w      as in    bed or notwh                             h w        no hen he went into her
room; and he don't remember as a fact
whether  that l        etter was written  in his presence. Now, it is not so important, gentlemen, where         Mr. Moulton obtained   this letter; 
it is not very important, except as it characterizes his conoduct,      whe ther he got it at the
house by Theodore Tilton going up into the
room and getting the wife to write it and
bringing it to him, or whether he went into
the room and waited for her to write the
letter. But it is important for you to know
wheth er         this w itnes s    is tellintg the truth, the
whole truth, and nothitng but the truth; or
whether he is equivocating, whether he is
saying he don't remember- when you know
he does remember; and, if you believe that
he says he does not remember a factwhen he
does remember it, that discredits his tes,timony utterly and thoroughly, and you are
not permitted to give any credit to it.
"From whose hand did you receive the letterI
A. I think I received it from the hand of Elizabeth
Tilton."
". Can you Fay you did not receive it from the
hand of Theodore I'iltln? A. I cannot say but I
did receive it from the hand of Theodore Tilton."
MR. MOULTON EQUALLY A CONSPIRA        TOR WITH MR. TILTON.
There is another fact in this connection to
which I desire to call your attention, which
bears upon the good faith or the honest pur
43 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
these parties,  like  the garbling  of Mrs.
Tilton's letters, for the purpose of creating
public opinion against Henry Ward Beeche??
Why did they not publish, when they published anything,             the simple fact that they
took this letter of Mrs. Tilton       to Mr. Beecher,
rlquestingre     u       o the return of th is retraction, and
up      on   that  he  surrender    e d it? That would
hav       e  been      the s     imple teuth, but       it would not
have acomplished the object they                         had in
view.
T    he r     ea son              of that was asked  of Mr. Moulton upon t    he      witness stand.  He was asked  to
explain      that, and what does he say? He
says he had absolutely forgotten the existence
of       this paper.  Forgotten  the  existen   ce   of
such  a     n  im portant paper as                       this!  In the
fatce of th       e Woodhull scandal, even, the existence of t      h is paper           had not occurred to him!
"But you learned it somewhere. Mr. Moulton?"    "Yes, sir."  "You    published itin
one  of  your state ments,  Mr. Mou  lton?"
" Yes, sir." "Did  you    there publish
it in connection with th  e s urrender o f the
r    etraction of  the accusation, or the surtre     nder of     the  retraction.? "  No;           he did not,
and he is compell      oaied t   o say h e did not.  Every
publication which lie makes in which he puts
this letter, carries the i dea     that        this retraction
was surrendered to him upon a demand, and
he publishes this letter in an entirely different
connection.  Twe nt y  pa ges a    wa    y            from theB
story of          that          interview he publishes this
identical l     etter, an d  h e  publishes it for the
purpose of telling a lie. He publishes the
letter and says,  "I coul d  n ot co mply with
Mrs. Titon's         reques t to    return these letters
to her that   she migh                              t destroy them, because I
had previously g    iv en my word  to He nry Ward
Beecher that I would carefully preserve them
both." Yet, gentlemen, he had this letter in
the morning,                       and he o        btained that retraction
in the everitg, and      he obtained it upon the
c      redit of t his l  ette        r  itself and nothing else.
He says he had previouslv pledged his word
to H         enry Ward Beecher that he would preserve both  paper s t       og    e ther and not destroy
them.  Pousdy?  Why, he had not seen
Mr. Beecher concerning        this  retraction           u     ntil
he had the letter                    of Mrs. Tilton in his pocket.
The retract        ion was obtained on the night of
the 30th, and he did not see Mr. Beecher
,-gain until the night of the 31st.  He had
this letter              i  his is pock et  on  the morning of
the 31st, and took it with him to  Mr.
Beecher,  and read i t to  himr; and  yet he conceals this fact; but when he is compelled to
publish every paper he has in his possession
on the subject, he publishes the paper, and
then tells a lie about it, by saying, " I could
not comply with Mrs. Tilton's request,
because  before I ha                         id received this letter from
word of honor that I would preserve both
paper.'"
May it please the Court, Gentlemen of the
Jury:-When  I closed last night I had  finished( all I had proposed so say to you on tie
s.ibject of the interviews of the 30th and 31st
of December, except that, in another connection, I shall have occasion to refer to what
Mr. Moulton says were the confessions of the
defendant on the evening of the 31st.  That
interview, as you remember, gentlemen,
closed by Mr. Moulton having obtained from
Mr. Betcher the surrender of Mrs. Tilton's
retraction of the charge which site had made
a,gainst him in her letter dated December 29.
It had been surrendered on the express promise of Mr. Moulton that that retraction and
the accusation should be preserved and kept
together. He had taken that retraction to Mr.
Tilton, and the difficulty in which they seemed to be involved the day before by Mr. Beecher's holding in his possession such a piece of
terrible evidence against Mr. Tilton was removed. They had discovered also that the
shock which Mr. Beether had received in
consequence of the accusation of Mrs. Tilton,
of beholding her on her sick bed, not only
shattered in body, but, as he feared, in mind,
had produced a profound impression upon Mr.
Beecher.   The quick and accurate eye  oi
Moulton had not failed to discover that his
heart had been disturbed and moved to the
very foundations.
44
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 26,1875.
39TIl DAY.
.THE LMER OF APOLOGY.
H,tving obtained from his hands theevidence which he held against them, on a promise that the accusation and the retraction
should never again be used, the next thing
that seems to have occurred to these parties
was to pursue this enterprise, and to see if
they could not obtain from Mr. Beecher something authenticated by him which would give
a pretext to the accusation which Mr.'Elton
b-,id made a,-ainst him. For, although the
retraction had been surrendt-red. Mr.'17ilton
did notcare to rest, if he could help it, undef
the imputation that retraction cast upon him;
nor to leave in Mr. Beecher any possible disposition to denounce him and his atrocious
course; and he sought, if possible, to get
something from the defendant which should
justify or palliate the charge which he had
made. Therefore, Mr. Moulton returns to
tl)e interview on January Ist. I shall not stop
to dwell here, gentlemen, upon the want of
memory of Mr. Moulton as to the time when
that interview began and when it ended, -is
to whether the gas was lighted or whether it
was not; all that will be distinct in your
mind. I come now to the interview, as he
relates it, and to what did in fact occur at 
THE LETTER OF APOLOGY.
that interview, and to discover, if we can, how
much credit his testimony is entitled to,
when he says that the paper which he took
away from that interview was a paper dictated by Mr. Beecher, sentence by sentence,
and written down by him as thus dictated.
On the evening of January 1st Moulton
again visited the house of Mr. Beecher.  But
he came to make peace, not war.  He drew a
picture of Tilton's sorrows, of the utter wreck
of his fortunes, of the destruction of his family peace;  and all in terms so vivid and
touching as to excite thefeelings of his hearer
to the highest pitch.   He vindicated his
friend from the calumnious stories which had
been brought to Mr. Beecher and had been
believed by him.  He convinced Mr. Beecher
that the charges which the latter, believing
them to be true, had repeated to Mr. Bowen,
were utterly without foundation.  Then he
dwelt on the alienation which had arisen between this husband and wife, and on the
utter misery which had fallen upon the whole
family in consequence.   All this in terms
calculated to wing tears of blood from a compassionate heart,  but without  a word of
direct accusation against Mr. Beecher. And
yet, under everything ran the implication
that in some way Mr. Beecher was responsile for all his sufferings. Responsible for Tilton's business misfortunes, because he and
Bowen had united to turn him out of The Insdependent and The Brooklyn Union.  Responsible for the domestic misery, because the
alienation of the wife, which Mr. Beecher
had previously supposed to have arisen from
the misconduct of the husband, was now assumed to have been caused by an undue
affection for her pastor and a violent and protracted struggle between her passion and
her sense of duty, which had destroyed her
health and unsettled her reason.
Now, gentlemen, neither of these statements fairly describes anything which Mr.
Beecher had actually done.  They are only
what he was made by Moulton to believe lihe
had done.  It is very easy to imagine the
effect of such a process upon a nature proverbially kind and ingenuous.  The measure of
undeserved misery then predicated of this
plaintiff havinig been piled very high with
careful ingenuity, it needed but a slight push
of suggestion to roll the whole over upon the
defendant.  It needed no special argument or
persuasion to fix the responsibility; the man
for whose  shoulders it had been prepared
hastened liimsel f to assume it.  Henry Ward
Beecher stood c(onvicted in his own morbid
imagination, as a slanderer of the meanest
type, and as a pastor and friend whose heedless folly had introduced discord into t'he
holiest of relations, and had plunged into
sorrow one of the happiest families of his
flock.
Gentlemen, can you picture to yourself the
agony of  his self-reproach  unde r this new and
astounding revelation? Can you imagine
with what fanatical remorse he would pierce
himself again and again with the thorn thus
furnished to his band? "What species of
slander," he would say, " is so base as to
chargeafriendfalsely with marital unfaithfulness, seeing that  the  charges  mus t    invo lve not
him  alone, but also  some  innocen t woman in
inevitable obloquy?" It is true he might
palliate to himself the faulb by pleading the
honesty of his intentions and his belief in the
truth of those reports. But neither in law
nor in morals is the mere belief in a slander
any justification for its utterance in the ab.l
sence of a preliminary inquiry, with care
proportioned to the magnitude of the case.
Why had he not made more careful inquiry
into the sources of his information? Why,
had he not instituted a more searching inves.
tigation into the facts before assuming the re.
sponsibility of action so injurious? Why  so
prompt to receive with credit calumnious reports against a friend? Such were the questions which the aroused conscience of the defendant, under the skillful manipulation of
the plaintiff's serviceable friend, pushed home
with stinging force and agonizing effect.
But if on this first charge Mr. Beecher,
following the delicate instincts of an lhonorable man, felt himself to be absolutely with.
out excuse, how must his self-reproach have
been intensified by the additional thought
now presented to him, that he had been the
means of beguiling Mrs. Tilton into an undue
affection for bimself, and thus alienating her
from her husband and destroying the home
where that husband might otherwise have
found refuge with his muined fortunes? If
this were so (and the evidence of what he
had himself seen led him in his then excited
state to accept Moulton's statement as true),
there was absolutely but one excuse or palliation which he could offer to his own accus.
ing conscience for the offense, namely: That
he had not intentionally done wrong; that
though be might have been culpably careless
he had not been consciously guilty of any
conduct tending to encourage the alleged affection. But such a defense involved the implication that the lady had conceived this
passion entirely without suggestion from him,
or any encouragement on his part, and he
was debarred from any such plea by all the
instincts of a gentleman. as well as by big
genuine respect and affection for the lady
herself. Nor would this plea, even if he
could have induced himself to make it, have
been a full defense.  It is the solemn duty of
a clergyman to prevent such a disaster from
arising out of his associations with his flock,
He is gravely in fault if he fails to see and torepress the first symptoms cf a dangerous affection for him on the part of a married woman
This, gentlemen, is the simple and obvious
45 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
meaning of that language in Mr.  Beecher's
statement which has been so maliciously and
so dishonestly perverted for the ends of thigreat conspiracy.  "The case, as it then appeared in my eyes," says Mr. Beecher, speaks
ing of this interview, "was strongly against
me. My old fellow-worker had been dispossessed of his eminent place and influence,
and I had counseled it.  His family had been
well-nigh broken up, and I had advised it;
his wife had become sick and broken in body
and mind, and I, as I fully believed, had
been the cause of all this wreck by continting, with blind heedlessness, that friendship
which had beguiled her heart, and roused her
husband into a fury of jealousy, althoughl
notcaused byany intentional act of mine.
And should I coldly defend myself?  Should
I hold her up to contempt as having thrust
her affections upon me unsought?  Should I
treaduponthis man and his household in
their great adversity?"  All this, forpurposes sufficiently obvious, has been industriously misrepresented as a contemptible resort on
the part of Mr. Beecher, to the very line of
defense which in this language he expressly
repudiates.  Though this was his only possible defense, yet he forebore to use it.  It was
either this or silence, or, what was but one
degree better than silence, an acceptance of
all thle blame, together with an earnest disclaimer of any intentional wrong.  He says:
",I disclaimed with the greatest earnestness
all intent to harm Theodore in his home or
business." Think for a moment of his situation, gentlemen. A charge, the most terrible that could possibly confront a man in his
position (for it would be easy to show that, under the circumstances, a charge of impure proposals would seem to be more difficult to meet
than one of actual adultery), and such a
charge has been suddenly sprung upon him
like a thunder-clap from a clear sky, not
by the gasconading harl'equin  who orders
him out of Brooklyn at the muzzle of a sheet
of "commercial note," but in a paper signed
by a lady, his friend, his child almost, one
whom he knows to be, when in her normal
condition, pure and good and truthful.  How
stunning the surprise! how horrible the complication!  Is it possible that she can have
consented to such an accusation?  If so, what
diabolicalmachination has led to it? And
what must be the final result?  He has received from her, indeed, a frank retraction,
with tearful  expressions of regret, and a
touching story of the means by which she
was driven to such an act; but hardly are
these consoling accounts cold before he is informed of a re-retraction!  Then is she indeed
broken in health and distractedinmind; andall
these troubles have been brought upon a family for many years, and still, so dear to him 
and he a minister of the gospel, who has
been to these people as a father, he the man
by w hose agency all this  r uin  ha d been  brought
about! When we  consider the swift succer ssion of images presented  to   the man who, in
addi tion to his remors     h e  for the past, had  reason to apprehend  a plunge into  publi c conflict with    a  jealous husband, and with no
oth er  definus  e than his     own simple word of
ho nor, can  we won der that  Mr. Be echer  was
ai deeply agitated and excited man!
But this is not all. Ttie pastor of Plymouth
Church, surrounded by troops of friends,
might hasve risked even this terrible conflict,
if be were absolutely free from blamewoirthiness. And it has been freely asked, how could
he apologize to a husband who  brought a
false charge against him? But this contitngency had been foreseen. The emissary of
Tilton entirely dropped the charge of improper advances, and neither then nor ever afterwards alluded to it. But, using the language
and manner of a gentleman, and pledging his
word (f honor to the truth of what he said,
he found no difficulty in convincing Mr.
Beecher that the unhappy little woman, who,
ais he well knew, and as her husband knew,
had always loved Mr. Beecher with a reverential affection, had been misled by his flattering attentions and sympathetic interest into
an actual passion for him, which had destroyed her domestic peace, and the sti-u-gle
between which and her sense of duty had
shattered her imiind.  That this was the fact,
we have already shown that Mr. Beecher was
made fully to believe.   And did not this a-fford a more satisfactory explanation of her
mysterious charge than his previous suipposition that it was extorted from her by her
cruel husband? Nothing was more natural
than that a woman, whose mind was shaken
by this cause, should imagine that the object
of her love had solicited her affection. Nothing more natural than that in an hour of remiiorse and of mental prostration, sthe should
confess her own passion and assert that she
not only loved, but had been loved. For
where is the woman living who will freely
confess that she has loved without encouragement and without solicitation? This supposed state of facts cleared up the whole mystery, explained the whole disaster to the
family, and relieved the husband from all
suspicion of a conspiracy against his pastor.
But where did it leave the pastor himself?
It made his defense impossible, so long as the
accusation brought against hi m was not coarse
and vulgar in its terms. He was not free
from farul t. His own conscience condemned
him. Although he well knew that he had
never said an impure word, nor offered an impure caress, yet he could not deny the charge
of having beguiled the woman's affections,,
without imputing to her tthe indelicacy of
"th rusting her affection upon Ihim unsought."
This is what he said he would die before he
would do. This is what he said in his state
46 
THE LETTER OF APOLOGY.
ment last August, that he had alwaiys found it
impossible to do. Nay, more,with suchinstinctire horror did he shrink from such a defense,
that he would not use it to justify himself
before his own conscience, but assumed at
once that in some way he must have been to
blame, he must have enticed the affections of
this wife from her husband.   And to this
charge, which was the only one intimated by
Moulton at the interview of January 1st,          ihe
pleaded guilty before his own conscience and
before his God.
Here, gentlemen, I must break the thread
of my narrative to prevent a fresh injustice to
my client.  It must be distinctly understood
that he does not now believe, and that he did
not, when making his statement last August,
believe one word of this story concerning Mrs.
Tilton's p Ltssion for him, to which he was indutced to give credence in January, 1871. He
believes that Mrs. Tilton has never been unfaithful to her husband in word, look, or
thought.  He believes that she has lavished
upon her unworthy husband all the treasures
of her royal nature, and that all the fountains
of her love-a love to whose depth and tenderness no justice can be done by language of
mine-have  been wasted exclusively upon
that barren sand which the plaintiff has him.
self described as the "cold and cruel heart of
Theodore Tilton."
But, Mr. Beecher had no such relief on the
night of January 1, 1871.  Full of the conviction that he was responsible for the shattered mental condition and the domestic misery of the woman whom  he loved with as
pure an affection as any of you, gentlemen,
have for your own daughters, for upwards of
an hour Henry Ward Beecher walked that
floor, giving utterance to emotions so intense,
in language so extravagant, that the self-possessed, keen-eyed gentleman watching him
there, almost forgot the delight of triumph a
in the pleasure of surprise.  He had come to
this interview, commissioned to obtain at all
hazards something from Beecher, something
to supply the place of deserting auxiliaries
and lost ammunition.  Bowen had slipped
from under and could no longer be relied on
for the promised reinforcements. The charge
of improper proposals has failed or had been
neutralized by the retraction; the locker is
absolutely empty, and the whole campaign
must be begun anew.  To get in Mr. Beecher's hand or with his signature something in
the nature of a confession of improper advances to fit the vague accusation which had
already been propounded with such imperfect
success-this was the problem.  A tolerably
difficult game to play, one would I)e apt to
think, with the wily and accomplished villain whom you have alteady heard so vig,orously descmitbel by the senior counsel for the
plaintiff.  But lo, t!.is man, represented to
you a s a shrewd  and gifted   scound rel, ar   con summate villain, an unparalleled dissembler,
who had  pratticed wholesale lewdness for
more  than thirty years' unde  r t he   con cen trated  gaze of the whole  world, a nd  up to thF is
time succeede            d in covering his tracks-now
advances voluntarily to this friend of at day,
opens at once every joint in his harness, and
invites him to insert his jarvelini at his own
sweet will.  Why,  gentlemen, never did  ai
three-year old batby, quivering with contri tion for its first conscious fault, more swiftly
run to bury its bowed and tearful face in its
tender mother's lap, than did this suffering
man advance to cast himself on the breast of
that guileless and gushing creature, Francis
D. Moulton.
With the volubility of one half crazed, he
pours out the most poignant  self-reproaches
without limit. For, gentlemen, you know
that men express themselves about their sins
generally in inverse ratio to their desert of
blame. Their estimate of sin is according to
their standard of holiness. There was once
before, in good old Scripture days, a
man who was given over for a time to the
manipulations of the devil. I refer to Job,
the patriarch of Uz, who is spoken of as a
man' ".perfect and upright, one that feared
God and eschewed evil." And yet il the
days of his affliction this good man could say:
"I abhor myself and  repent  in dust and
ashes."  It was because lie had been permitted to see in a vision the divine standard of
holiness.  The greatest of prophets cried:
" Woe is me, for I am unclean, for mine eyes
have seen the Lord,'" And from those times
down pure and spiritual-minded men-men
conspicuous in the world for personal holiness-have been wont to) puzzle and astonish
worldly natures by the unmeasured terms in
which they have denounced their own faults
and imperfections. So this defendant on this
occasion, excited almost to frenzy by pity and
remorse, gave way to his mighty sorrow in a
vocabulary whose sombre richness and fulness we may well imagine. How embarrassed
by the very copiousness4 of the resources thus
gushing forth before him, must have been
this " cool hand " who there with hard, cold
eyes, sat watching this curious development.
"Something to commit Beecher" had been
his quest, and here was Mir. Beecher himself
furnishing terms in torrents, intense enough,,
comprehensive enough to cover all sins forbidden in the decalogue! Oh, to get a thousandth part of this rich material on paper, for
here it is running all to waste, and every sentence is gold. "There's millions in it."  But
the copious talker is in no mood for writing,
and our shrewd operator in vivisection,
watching then his opportunity, sees the supreme moment arrived for dropping the
scalpel and taking up the pen.
47 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
HOW THE LETTER OF APOLOGY WAS
.Q What was done after you wrote that letter?
A. read the letter to him, and he read it, and then
he signed  Q. Never mind; we will show that in a moment.
You say you read it to him? A. Yes, sir.
Q. Did you read it as it was? A. Yes, sir, and
as it is.
Q. Did he take it and read it? A. Yes, sir.
Q. Do you mean to be understood that you read
it  to him, and that he read it afterwards for himself? A. Yes, certainly."
WRITrEN
And now, gentlemen, having brought you
up to the situation as it exists in our conception, let us leave it thus for a moment.  Mr.
Beecher, pouring forth an unceasing torrent
of morbid self-accusation and sorrow, and
Moulton, with unpracticed pen, in the gathering darkness, at his wit's end, to make
rapid selection and arrangement from the
multitude of significant expressions, such as
should best answer the end in view, namely,
to get Mr. Beecher on paper in the attitude
of a penitent criminal. Let us, I say, turn
from this interesting situation, and institute
a somewhat careful inquiry into the genesis
and nature of the remarkable paper which
was the product of that rapid inlcubation.
There is no doubt, gentlemen, that the paper
originally called the "Letter of Apology,"
but more recently the "Letter of Contrition,"
was written by the mutual friend at this interview of January 1, 1871; but in regard
to every other fact concerning its preparation
the defendant and Mr. Moulton will be in
conflict.
So remarkable a fact, you observe, gentle.
men,  had attracted the attention of the
counsel, and be wanted to make sure if the
witness meant to be understood  that after he
had read t his letter  aloud c are fully to  Mr.
Beecher, Mr. Beecher then took it and read
it over himself. " A very remarkable fact,
if it be true," as the newspapers say.
On cross-examination he was asked:
" Q. Well, what subjects did you and Mr. Beech.
er converse about on that day; just name the topics
of conversation,  so far as you can re  ember?
A. The effect of the recantation  upon Theodore
Tilton; Mr. Beecher's expression of contriti, n for
the crime that he ha' committed against Elizabeth
Tilton and Theodore Tiiton, and his expression of
regret           that he had mentioned Mrs. Bulard's name
to Mr Bowen; those are the three distinct subjects
that I now recollect.
Q. And  the only  three that cou recollect?
A. 1hose are the three, sir."
T~~~~~~~~~~~~Ahe ithrview ofJnayrssdecie
The interview of January 1st is described
by Moulton as follows:   On his direct examination he says;
You will remember, gentlemen, that he
described that interview as lasting from one
to two hours, and yet he names but  tihree
subjects that were conversed about at that
interview, and all he relates of the interview
would  not have occupied more  than  ten
minutes.  Indeed, he states but little of importance occurring on that day, except the
fact of the writing of this letter.  He admits
that-the preparation of the paper was suggested by a remark that Mr. Beecher made
during that conversation.   But in another
part of his testimony he says that the paper
was prepared at the beginning of the conversation.  He  says it was dictated by  Mr.
Beecher deliberately, sentence by sentence,
and that he wrote it down as dictated, and
that the paper is not only in Mr. B~,echer' 8
words, but the very sentences are of his construction, while Mr. Beecher will tell you,
gentlemen, that this paper was prepared towards the close of a long and excited conversation, embracing many  more topics than
those referred to by Moulton; tIhat it was
suggested by Moulton,  who remarked that
Tilton was under the impression that Beecher
was inimical to him and desirous of his overthrow, and that if Tilton could but know
how kindly Mr. Beecher had exDressed himself towards him in this conversation, it
w ould remove all barshness from his mind.
Mr.  Beecher declined to write,  but said:
"You can tell him what I say."   To which
Moulton replied:  "It would have more effect if it cane from you in some authentic
" Q. State, if you please, what that interview was?
A. I told Mr. Bcecher that I had taken the retraction to Mr. Tilton, and that I had told Mr. Tilton
that it would have been very foolish for him to
have carried his threat of the morning into execution.  I told him that Mr. Tilton was pleased with
my havng procured the retraction, and that I told
Mr. Beecher that Mr. Tilton seemed to me to be "
" I told him that I thought that-I told him that
Tilton told me that he had made up his mind that
no matter what came to himself, he would under.
take to protect the reputation of his wite at all
hazards.  Then Mr. Eeecher sa d to me that he
was in misery on account of the crime that he had
committed against The adore Tilton and his wife
and family; -he said that he wou d be willing to
make any reparation that wvas within his powerhe said that Mr. Tilton, he thought, would have
been a better man under the circumstances in
which he had been placed than he had been; that
he felt that he had done a great wrong, because he
was T'.eodore Tllton's friend, he was his pastor,
he was his wife's friend and pastor, and he wept
bitterly; and I said to him,'Mr. Beecher, why
don't you say that to Mr. Tilton?"'  [Observe,
gentlemen, that the suggestion of writing comes
from Moulton in this interview.]  " I said to him
' Mr. Beecher, why don't you say that to Mr. Tilton,
why don't you exp ess to him the grief you feel
and the  contrition for it. You can do no more than
that, and I think I know Theodore Tilton well
enough to know that he would be satisfied w-th
that, for I know he loves his wife.'  Mr. Beeher
told me to take pen and paper and to write at his
dictation. and I did write at his dictation the letter
of January;, 18.1.
48
[Then le was interrupted. Then be proceeds again:]
I 
THE LETTER OF APOLOGY.
Mr. Beecher had really dictated a letter to
Mr. Moulton, sentence by sentence, his literary instincts would inevitably have prompted
a production having such a natural beginning, middle, and end as is common to all
letters written by educated men.
This paper has none of these things.   It
opens with an abrupt extravagant  phrase
which, if literally construed, is profane, and
which shows upon its face that it is a distortion of a proper, though excited expression.
But note, also, the entire disconnection of the
latter part of the sentence from the first.
[The letter was here handed to the jury, who
examined it while  Mr. Tracy continued.]
The first sentence of this letter, gentlemen,
is as follows:
form."  "Well," said Beecher,  "you can
make a memorandum of what I say." And
thereupon Moulton took a pen and began to
write what Beecher had said during the
conversation.  Substantially, gentlemen, the
only dictation which Mr. Beecher did in the
m        at t er, was         on two  or three occasions, when
Moulton as ked him: " What word or phr       ase
did you use at this point?" And Mr. Beecher
s    upplied hrd            ps e  the word or phrase as  the case might
be. Tiee preparation of t         h e paper was the
last thing done at the interview. It was
completed after Mr. Beecher's tea-bell had
rung, which on Sundays a lways r ings  at fi  ve
o'clock.   The sun had s      et.  The  room was
growing dark, and the -as               was       not lit. It
was writte n  in gr eat haste, it was not    read
over by Moulton, nor was it read by Beecher.
It would hardly have been possible for either
to read it.   When asked by Moulton to sign
it, Mr. Beecher refused, on the ground that
it was not his paper; but, being pressed, he
finally took a pen and wrote on the extreme
lower edge of the last page:  "I have trusted this to Moulton in confidence.
H. W. BEECHEIL."
" MY DEAR f RREND MOULTON: I    ask through you,
Theodore Tilton's forgiveness, and I humble myself before him as I do before my God; he would
have been a better man in my circumstances than
I have been."
Now, I ask you to note that the last clause
of that sentence has no sort of relation to
the first; and, yet, Mr. Moulton coolly swore
in your presence, that Mr. Beecher deliberately dictated as one single connected sentence,
without any intervening stop, these extraordinary words:  "I ask through you Theodore Tilton's forgiveness, and I humble myself before him as I do before my God, he
would have been a better man in my circumstances than I have been."    No  one but a
maniac could have deliberately uttered such
a sentence; and neither Mr.  Moulton nor
Mr. Tilton has ever ventured  to print that
sentence in type as it was originally written.
But all the sentences are disjointed; they do
not follow each other in any natural order.
Their confusion is perfectly comprehensible if
we believe that they are hasty reports of
hasty expressions, spread over a long conversation, at intervals, and eagerly grasped at
by one who was anxious to record the worst
language which he could possibly select from
the excited utterances of a man under deep
feeling; but utterly  incomprenhengibie, if
we accept Mr. Moulton's oath that the paper
was deliberately dictated  and  deliberately
written.
But it is necessary that I should show you
the desperate haste with which this paper
was prepared by other internal evidence of a
still more unmistakable nature.  In the first
place, if you observe the paper, you will see
that the first four or five lines are more distinctly written than the subsequent portion.
Down  to the word "God" every letter  is
complete in itself, but after this word a conmma is inserted where there should be a period,
and the next word begins with a small, instead of a capital " H " in the first sentence,
after the word "God."   You can hardly read
that sentence, gentlemen, without making a
The question at issue between Moulton and
this defendant is this-Was the paper prepared  at  the beginning of the conversation,
deliberately dictated               sentence by  sentence,
written down exactly as deliv        ered         and present
wit h th      e parties dur ing     the        remainder of the
interview, or, on the other hand, was it hastily prepared, at the  end    of th       e c      onversation,
by  on     e  w ho endeavor ed  to gather up and    record th       e mor          e        s alient points of what had
been previously u ttere     d? l'o  settle   this question of veracity, gentlemen, I appeal to the
paper itself. Is it credible that Henry Ward
Beecher  ever d    ictated   and   deliberately            s      igned such sentences as are here recorded? We
say that the paper  bears  on it      s f ac  e  conclusiv    e evidence of desperate     haste, l eading to
inaccuracies of composition, which neither
Mr.  Bcecher nor Moulton could ever have
committed, had they written deliberately
and at their leisure.   In the first place, it
lacks all the indications which would distinguish a letter either written or dictated by
a man of culture, habituated to the production of thoughtful, methodical papers.   The
slightest glance must convince any intelligent
man that no man of letters could ever have
literally dictated this incoherent production,
no matter what his mental condition if it
were short of absolute insanity.   Even if he
had been insane, it is doubtful whether the
habits of a literary man would not have led
him to prepare a letter having at least the
external symbols of logic, sense, and order.
But the paper now under consideration, as
the most uneducated man may see, is absolutely without logical sequence, and violates
the most fatniliar rules-, f composition.  If
4
49 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
tal; and  I want to impress upon you the
fact, gentlemen, here, that although  this
letter was published by Mi. Moulton, it has
never been published as written; that is, he
changes the whole form and style of the letter
by the form of its punctuation-the manner
in which he punctuates it and publishes it.
The punctuation I now give is in accordance
with the manner the letter was punctuated
when  written  by  Moulton himself; I am
reading you his own punctuation of it.  The
word "towards" id imperfectly written, there
being nothing to indicate the letters "d s"
except a single dash of the pen resembling
" d s" in no wise either singly or together.
There is no comma after the word' friends"
as there should be.   The next "toward" is
printed  "towards" in the statement.  You
will see, gentlemen,  that in the sentence
"lying there and praying, with her hands
folded," after the word "hands" there is a
semi colon instead of a period, but the next
word begins with a capital, "She is guiltless"-the word  "she" beginning with a
capital.  The  "s" in "sinned against" has
been altered evidently from an "I."  He
started to write "I," then he changed it to
"s" and wrote the word  "sinned."   There
is no period  mark after the word  " another,"
although the next word   begins with  a capi -
tal, as it should do-the sentence beginning
"Her forgiveness I have."   You see the
"I" looks as if originally written an IIs"
and changed to  an "I."   And thus all
the way through, gentlemen, this letter
bears internal evidence on its face, that it
was prepared in great haste; confirming precisely in itself the statement which Mr.
Beecher will give you of this interview, and
of the manner in which this paper was prepared. Now, Moulton asks you to believe,
gentlemen, that he not only read this letter
himself, but that Henry Ward Beecher took
the letter afterwards and deliberately read
it also, without discovering or correcting
these errors of punctuation. Is it possible
to believe that Henry Ward Beecher would
ever sign and send out over his own signature
such a composition as that?
But now, gentlemen, we come to the conclusive evidence that the writing of this letter was suddenly terminated by an abrupt
interruption. You will observe that the paper
begins in the form of a letter, addressed to
' -My Dear Friend Moulton." Had the writer recognized the fact that he had concluded his letter with the sentence, " I humbly play to God that he may put it into
the heart of her husband to forgive me," it
is impossible to understand why he did not
prepare it for Mr. Beecher's signature by
adding- some usual concluding clause, as
"Yours Truly," or the like. You observe,
gentlemen, that letter begins, "My Dear
Friend Moulton." Now, I say, that if Mr.
period at the                               word "God,"  and conmencinr
the new sentence, of course,     with a c apita l
and yet you  will observe that it is com menced with a small                       "H" and           separated
only by a comma. Now, Henry Ward
Beecher would never have dictated such a
sentence as that; it isnot possible.  Nor is
it possible that     Franci      s D. Moulton would
have ev er          written suc h  a sente        nce as      that,
except             i     n the    greatest    haste; and I am now
refer                        ring you to the  internal evidence from
t      he  paper  it    self,     that Mr.  Beecher's ver s              ion of the conversation must    be true, and
Mr. Moulton's must be untrue.   It will be
furth    er  observed                 that the writer inserts a
comnpa after                         the word " man," where there
s          hould be none, and a dash        after the word
"been," where  there should b e  a period. He
next writes, "         I  can' t   ask n othing". -clearly
showing               that he did  not write this from dictat ion. For                    he would not have written can't,"
if Mr. Beecher  ha     d  ju     st        dictated " can,"
But starting t         o   frame the     sentence "I can't
a      sk," he  disc overed as t he  rema ind er was
formed in his mind,                     that he  must change
"     can't" to " can," and so canceled                    the " t,"
as you see in the manuscript-a clear evidence, as we submit to you, gentlemen, that
that word  was not written  from   di                ctation,
but written by a man who was starting to
frame a sentence in his own mind, writes
three words of the sentence, and then sees, as
the balance of it is formed in his mind, that
he must change  the word;                        and so changes
"can't"  to " can."   And so  the  word
"other"                                        is imperfectly written, the necessary
letters be ing undiscoverable, as is seen                       by an
inspection of the paper, showing further evidence of the haste with which the writer
went on with the                           composition. You see, as he
began, he began leisurely, writing the first
few lines-every word perfect; but as he
goes on in his composition, his haste increasing, darkness perkaps coming on in the
room, there are letters left out of the words
and c    harac   ter  s inserted   that cannot  be said to
represent    any     letters. The w ord " would" is
very imperfect; no one could say that the
last character was intended for a " d. " After
the word " ache" he makes a dash, instead
of a period, as there should be. The first
period occurring in the paper is found after
the word " myself," away down in the composition. The words " for myself' are interlined, which would not have been the case
had he written them down from Mr. Beecher's
dictation.
The second period occurs after the word
"suffer. " The next period occurs after the
word "inculpated."  The sentence succeeding begins with a small " a" after the period
he has marked.
You observe he has marked a period
there; and then, in haste, has begun the
sentence with a small letter instead of a capi
50
I 
MR. BEECHER'S ALLEGED ORAL CONFESSIONS.
Moulton had supposed that letter was to stop
when  he wrote  the last word of the letter,
that that word was the conclusion, he would
have prepared it for Mr. Beecher's signature
by adding, "Yours truly," or "Yours faith fully," for Mr. Beecher to sign.  But there
is no such clause in the letter.  On the contrary, you observe that after the last word of
that letter there is a dlash instead of a period,
showing that the writer intended to continue
writing at the time he wrote the last word of
the letter-that he had not finished the let ter; he expected to keep on gathering up
these gems that were filling in such abundance from the lips of this excited man.  But
at the time he had written his last word and
made his dash, expecting to continue, Mr.
Beecher's tea-bell rang and interrupted the
writing and stopped it.  Then came the question of signing. Mr. Beecher said: "I cannot
sign that, because it is not my  composition." Then he asked him to authenticate it in
some form, so that he could show Mr. Tilton
that he had something from Mr. Beecher. It
was a trick, gentlemen; a plan deliberately
devised to commit this man, in his excited
condition, to some note or memorandnm that
could afterwards be used against him as a
power to convince him  that he was under
their control-that they had him committed.
That was the purpose and the object of that
letter, and that is the way it was that Moulton pressed so hard for Mr. Beecher's signanature in some form to the letter itself.
Gentlemen, Mr. Moulton tells you another
fact-that he put at the head of that letter the clause, "In trust with Francis D.
Moulton."  He  says Mr. Beecher did  not
dictate that. He says it, I think, for the purpose of explaining the absurdity of Mr.
Beecher's dictating that clause at the head
of the letter, and then adding it at the foot
of the letter, leaving it twice upon the letter.
Mr.  Beecher would not have been likely to
do that.  If he had dictated at the h         ead  of
the letter "In trust with Francis D. Moulton," he would not have added the sAme
thing at the foot.  Nor would he have added
that, if it had been written as a letter to
Francis  D.  Moulton.  But  Moulton said:
" Trust this to me; I will preserve it; I will
see that no harm comes to you by your giving
me  this document, that I may show Tilton
in writing how kindly you feel towards him.
Leave that to me; trust it to me; " and by
these forms of expression, repeated by Moulton when inducing Beecher to authenticate
this paper in some form, he got from Mr.
Beecher the phrase: " I have trusted this to
Moulton in confidence. H. W. Beecher."
Again, gentlemen, if Mr. Beecher had commenced this letter dictating "IMy Dear Friend
Moulton," and that letter had been written
by Mr. Moulton in the course of five or ten
minutes, what must he have thought of Mr.
Beecher,  or Mr. Beecher  have thought  o f
himself when be refused to sign the letter
which he had commenced by dictating? Is not
that a remarkable statement - that Mr.
Beecher should be-in the dictation of a letter
"My Dear Friend Moulton,"-a letter that
only contains about one hundred and thirty
or one hundred and forty words, and at the
close of it should sav, " I won't sign it "?
You see it begins in the form of a letter.
Now, if Mr. Beecher had deliberately commenced that in the form of a letter. why
would he not have finished it? What operated in his mind in these five or ten or perhaps twenty minutes during which this letter
was preparing?-what operated upon his mind
to make him change and refuse to sign the
letter which he had begun by addressing it
"My  Dear Friend Moulton "? Why, the
proposition, it seems to me, gentlemen,carries
the evidence of absurdity upon its face; and
it shows that Mr. Beecher did not dictate that
phrase, II My Dear Friend Moulton." It is
evidenced by another fact: in all these four
years' correspondence, among the number of
letters which Mr. Beecher has written to Mr.
Moulton since then, no letter of his has ever
been addressed in that form, "My Dear
Friend Moulton." There is no such letter
from the beginning to the end of this correspondence.
For all these reasons, we submit to you,
gentlemen, that this paper itself so corroborates the statement that Mr. Beecher will
make to you up.)n the stand, and so contradicts the evidence that Mr. Moulton gives
you, that when you come to hear Mr. Beecher's statement you will believe that he speaks
the truth, and that Mr. Moulton does not.
No w, gen tlemen  of      the jury, I come to
another branch of is  as  a  this case and that is the
branch  which is now mainly relied  upon, to
wit, the pre tended oral confessions which tbis,
defendant is alleged to  baveae  made to Francis
D. Moulton  and to his wife, and to  the plaintiff, Theodore Tilton.  In  the beginning,
gentlemen,  w e shall show you that  these
parties r e lied  expressly u pon  the writing that
they had,    an d  upon  nothing else.  As late
as July 10, 1874, after the appointment of
the  Church Committee, and  o n Mr. Tilton's
first   appearing before th e Commi ttee, w e
shall show you, I apprehend, by evidence
which you will not doubt, that Mr. Tilton
there said that his case against Henry Ward
Beecher was in writing. He said that he
knew that his reputation was impaired -in
this community, and that the guilt or innocence of Henry Ward Beecher d id not at all
depend upon his word-he had i t in writing.
I think that the evidence will show you that
51
MR. BEECHER'S ALLEGED ORAL CON               FESSIONS. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
after Mr. Tilton had repeated that once or
twice over, he was interrupted by one who
thought, at least at that time  that he had
seen the written case against Henry Ward
Beecher, who said to him: "Mr. Tilton, if
your case against Henry Ward Beecher is in
writing, then it is wholly a question of what
these writings  prove; that is a fact that
other people can judge of as well as you can;
it is the construction of the papers;" and he
was told then and there, I think, by one who
supposed  he had  seen these  papers  and
studied them  carefully, that they did not
warrant  the insinuations which  Theodore
Tilton was then making, and they would not
prove the case that he was then insinuating.
I think it will transpire before you, gentlemen, that up to that time neither Tilton nor
Moulton had ever talked about oral confessions of Henry Ward Beecher.  I think it will
transpire that this part of their case has
arisen since that date.   At least I have no
doubt that it will appear to you that on
that occasion Mr.  Tilton did not pretend
that he had any oral confessions from Mr.
Beecher ten.ding to establish his case, but
that he said distinctly that his case against
Mr. Beecher was in writing, and was locked
in his safe, or in Moulton's safe.
In Moult, m's statement, published August
21st, some time after this, and after this controversy  had begun, Mr. Moulton  alleged
in general language, that Mr. Beecher had
confessed orally to him; but his language
was entirely general;  he gave no specific
wol ds; he made no statement which was
legal evidence (If that fact.  His paper was
challenged on that account, and it was said 
,,If Henl y Ward Beecher ever confessed to
you, why haven't you stated the confession,
so that other people can see whether his
language amounted  to a confession of guilt
or not?"  It was not until after he bad been
thus challenged and made his second - statement that he undertook to give the words in
which Mr.  Beecher confessed.  And finally,
on the trial here, gentlemen, he clothes Mr.
Beecher's confessions  in  entirely different
language from what he did in his second
statement.  But you will not forget the remarkable language which he so continuously
puts in the mouth of Henry Ward Beecher; 
-'sexual relations," "sexual intercourse,"
" sexual expression," " adultery," not once
-not once, gentlemen, I beg you to observe,
but continuously, at every interview, and he
never has Mr. Beecher refer to "their relations," without preceding it with the word
,'sexual."  Do you believe that, gentlemen
of the jury? Even assuming that Henry
Ward Bcecher did intend to convey to Francis
D. Moulton the idea that he had had criminal
rel        ations with the wife               of the plaintiff, do
you believe that at every interviewr that
ocqurred betwgeen thetm afterwards Mr. Beech
er expressly referred  to  the confession,  and
used the precise   lan gua ge that he  did o n
the first occasion?  Having used it once,
would no t a mere reference to it afterwards
have been sufficient? Was it necessary for
him   to repeat  always the words    " sexual
relations" t o  have Mr. Moulton unde rstand
what he  meant? Wh y, it is  m ost improb able,
I submit.   If Mr. Beecher  had been  cohfessing, he never could have been guilty of such
weakness, and di played such love of nasty
expressions  as to be continually rolling the se
from his lips, a s Moulton says he dlid. It is
impossible to believe it; it is incredible.
They, are words that are manufactured and
put into the mouth of Henry Ward Beecher
on occasion after occasion. He never used
any such expression; he never made any suci
confession. And you will remember, gentlemen, if you recall his (Mouilton's) expression
upon the witness stared, when he has attempted to repeat this phraseology, the remarkable slip lie made, not once, but twice, when
he undertook to say, " Mr. Beecher said his
relations-his sexual relations."   Not once,
but twice, he did that in repeating it, and
that is the precise manner t e repeats it in
his statement. In his published statement he
savs: "Mr. Beecher  said his relations with
this woman," without adding the word
" sexual; but when he comes to repeat it
from the witness stand he says: "Mr.
Beecher said his relations,-his sexual relationrs;" and when he told it again on his
cross-examination he made the same slip,
and, recalling himself, added the word
"sexual."
I shall not dwell upon those interviews.
They are remarkable, if they ever occurred4
most remarkable.  It is a most remarkable
fact that Henry Ward Beecher, if he had
been guilty, could have committed the indiscretion of throwing open his heart to a
friend of a day; for you will bear in mind
that Francis D. Moulton was a stranger to
Henry Ward Beecher on the night of the 30th
of December.   He tells you that he  was
a stranger to him; that is, he knew him as
everybody knew Mr. Beecher; he had a
speaking acquaintance with him; he had been
introduced to him before, but there were no
relations between them as friends or acquaintances; and yet he goes to him on the 30th
of December in a hostile attitude, as a friend
of the man who was accusing him, and he
comes to him again on the 31st of December,
the next night, and he says, without word of
caution or preliminary suggestion, Mr. Beecher opened to him and confessed his adultery
with this woman    The absurdity of  the
statement itself is sufficient to challenge the
closest scrutiny on the part of the jury, and
to excite the gravest doubts, even if it fell
from the lips of an unquestioned witness,
whether it could be pos ible tha~t ally manl in
52 
THE FIRST OBJECT OF THE PLOT.
his senses could be guilty of such an indiscretion as that.
o'clock, I think, that evening, and had another long interview with Mr. B,Xecher, on the
2d of January, and be tells you in great
detail what occurred.  He tells you expressly,
in answer to a question put to him on crossexamination. that he had four separate interviews with Mr. Beecher on four successive
days.  That is the question put to him and
that is the question he answered.   Now,
gentlemen, we shall show you  that Francis
Dt)  Moulton had no interview with Henry
Ward Beecher on the 2d of January.  The 2d
of January was  the day celebrated as New
Yea,'s, and Mr. Beecher, as was his custom,
received New Year's calls that day, and  w,as
engaged all day long in receiving New Year's
calls. He had nearly 800 callers, I am informed, at his house on the 21 of Januarv, 1871.
Busy all day, from 9 o'clock in the morning
until late in the evening, he had no opportunity for such an interview, and no such interview ever occurred.   I say it has been invented, and invented for a purpose, in order
to enable this witness to carry an interview,
on very important and  vital questions, one
day beyond the writing of this letter of apology.  He tells you further that Mr. Beecher
consulted him on that day as to whether the
pew-renting should go off that year.  Why,
gentlemen, if that interview was on the 2d
day of January, the pew-renting was to take
place the next day, and had been advertised
everywhere, and everybody knew it was to go
on.  The talk of stopping it from goi,ng on
would have been worse than a printed confession.  There was  no  such talk, no  such
thought. The renting of the pews, I say,
had been advertised, and it took place  the
next day, and there was never a suggestion
as to whether it should go off or not, or be
postponed.
But further, gentlemen, you will remember the great struggle we had when  Mr.
Moulton was on the witness stand, to get
him  to testify  that  the subject  of these
stories which Bowen had circula       ted  aga    inst
Tilton to      B      eecher, and Beecher               had circulated
aga    i ns   t Tilton to Bowen, w ere the subjects         of
convers ation between  Mr.  Beecher   an           d
Moulton on the night of the 31st of December,     or       on the nieght            of the 1st    of January.
But we could not get him  to do  it; we could
not get him to           say that Mr. Beecher agreed
to apologize to llowen, and to write a letter
to Bowen taking back what he said in regard
to Tilton and Mrs. Bullard. HIe would not
acknowledge that it    was don e on  ei ther     the
31st of December or the 1st of January.         This
was v      er y impor tant               for him,  and he  understood the   importance     of i t,  becaus e th a    t would
give            a clue, you see, to t he  contrition and   t     he
sorrow and the regret which Mr. Beecher was
expressing on the night of the 1st of January.
If his discreditable report concerning Laura
Curtis Bullard h ad bee n the subject of conversation, and he had agreed to    take it back,
and  had agreed to wr             ite  a letter              for  that
purpose-if these stories       that he had circula ted
in regard to Tilton, to Bowen, had been the
subjec         t  o f co nve rsation,  and he ha         d been expressi   ng hi    s        leg rets  c oncerning them, whv,
that would have furnishod some explanation
of what his excitement was, what caused it.
But he           ee they keep  that all out of view.  They
ask you to believe, gentlemen, th~at there was
nothing talked of on either of these nights
except hlis                          relation  to Mrs. Tilton, substant      ially, and  that that                       s  was what  he was expressing his sorrow and regret for; and so
they -say that this letter to Bowen was not
the subject of  conversation.   But it was
written so soon after, you see, gentlemen,
that they could not postpone it very long. It
must be the subject of conversation  r in,lt
away. If it was not on the night of the.31st
of December, or the 1st of Janu,ary, it must
be immediately following. They saw that
necessity, and thev must meet it.  Now, how
dil they do it?  Moulton does it by inventing an interview between himself and Mr.
Beecher on the  2d of January, where he
makes these stories the subject of conversasationi, and this letter to Bowen their matter
of talk and agreement.  I say he invents it,
and I shall leave you no doubt upon that subject, gentlemen. The 1st of January that year
came on Sunday.  This  letter called the
"Apology" was written Sunday afternoon,
in Beecher's house. Moulton tells you that
he called the next day in the aft,,rnoon,
towards evening, somewhere from 3 to 5
The object of the efforts of Moulton  and
Tilton in the early days of January, 1871, was
to r estore   Mr. Tilton, if possible, to  The Inde -
penenn t  and The Uanion. You   see, gentlemien,
that this dismissal was disastrous to Mr.
Tilton. He has stated to you from the witness
stand why it was disastrous. It was peculiarly
disastrous for this reason. He had just made
a new arrangement with The Independent bv
which he ceased to be editor and became chief
contributor, and was to be editor of The Union,
andl that arrangement had been announced in
The Independent ol the 22d, and yet, eight
days afterwards, he is displaced from both
papers; and everybody said, " Why this remairkable change?" It was disastrous to Mr.
Tilton; it was something  more than a me,'e
business change that could be explained on
its face without discredit to other parties.
Hence their great desire to restore Mr. Tiltot
in some way to  The Union and Independent,
53
AN INVENTED INTER'VIEW.
THE FIRST OBJECT OF THE PLOT. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
or to get some explanation of that dismissal
which would not be ruinous to him.  Now.
their plan was to get everybody who had told
stories concerning Mr. Tilton to retract.  Mr.
Beecher was to retract, Mrs. Tilton was to retract, and you see they did get a letter from
Mrs.r Tilton which denied that she had ever
desired a separation from her husband, and
attributed it to the action of her poor mother; 
they even force this weak and sick woman in
her weakened state to attribute her action,
in the letter which she gave them, to her
mother.  They got Bessie Turner to retract
the stories which she had told to Mr. Beecher
concerning Mr. Tilton.
And, gentlemen, there is more significance
to the retraction of Bessie Turner than to
most of the retractions in this case, because
there is another fact connected with it.  Bessie Turner had circulated the story, had told
to Mr. Beecher and had told to other people
that Mr. Tilton had twice attempted her vir —
tue, once by taking her from her own bed and
carrying her to his, and on another occasion, I
believe, in coming to her bed-roomn and attempting to lie in bed with her.  These stories were told, and the evidence of Moulton
and Tilton shows you that they knew that she
had circulated thes e stories and, taken with
the flood-tide that was coming in against Mr.
Tilton, they were extremely damaging. And
they say that she was a girl that was given
to talk, and she was somewhat under the influence of the mother-in-law, and, if we are
to believe Mr. Tilton, the mother-in-law was
sometimes given to talk, and it was important not only, therefore, to get Bessie Turner
to retract these statements, but to get her out
of the way —get her out of Brooklyn where she
would not talk-get her into a distant country, where no Brooklyn people could hear
her, where she would not be tempted to retail
these scandals concerning Tilton.
They tell ~you that Bessie Turner was sent
West because she had overheard a quarrel
between Mr. Tilton and his wife, in which
Mr. Beecher's name had been mentioned, and
that was the reason she was sent away, and
not because of these stories.  And the question is, which is true? They attempt now to
put the responsibility of her absence upon
Mr. Beecher and upon the rumors concerning
Beecher and Mrs. Tilton.  But they were
careful to get from Be&sie Turner her written
retractions of these stories against Mr. Tilton,
and they treasured them up. What for?
For the very use that they are putting them
to now; for the very use that they are making of t      hem      now.   They  bring    t hem into
Court to confront this young girl, and to say,
Here are statements that your stories concelning Mr. Tilton are false. They got them
for that purpose, and they went into these
general archives of Moulton, of all papers
relating to this scandal, and have beenl care
"The story that Mr. Tilton once lifted me from
my bed, and carried me, screaming, into his own,
and attempted to violate my person, is a wicked lie.
Yours truly,
BESSI. "
The other letter was dated January 10th,
1871. [Reading:]
" MY DICAR MRS. TILTO': 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 yo ur husband.
I have been persuaded that the  kind attentions
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
by any one else, to bring trouble on my two best
friends, you and your husband. Bye-bye.
BESaIE."
Now, that is a  remarkable le tter, gentlemen, to be obtained  by Mr. Tilton and  placed
in the hands of his most intimate friend to
b e  kept and preserved. It i     s       a ver y remarkable lette r.  I say it  was obtaine d  by  Mr.
Tilton.  It was  obtained at hi s suggest ion
and  in fluence by his,ife, and placed in t he
hands of his most intimate friend, Francis D.
Moulton,  a nd by him  pres erved until this
hour, ready to  be  pr oduced a gainst t his gir l
if she should ever appear in Court and give
a different version of this transaction. " I
have been persuaded that the kind attentions
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." " Caresses "-a very
remarkable phrase, gentlemen, if there never
was anything between Tilton and Bessie Turner. Then, that was not sufficient, so.two
days afterwards they got another letter from
her. " The story that Mr. Tilton once lifted
me from my bed and carried me screaming to
his owa anti attempted to violate. my person, is
a wicked lie." Well, now, gentlemen, Bessie
Tuiner never said he did. If there was any
such story, it was a lie. I am not aware that
Bessie Turner ever charged any such thing
against Mr. Tilton. I understand that her
story simply was that she was taken from
her bed in his arms and carried to his bed,
and he attempted to persuade her to remain
54
fully preserved ever since. Was that to protect Mr. Beecher? Did they get these retractions from Bessie Turner that Theodore Tilton
had never attempted her virtue, or never had
carried her, screaming, from her bed to hi,.,,
own, in order to protect Henry Ward Beecher?
I think, gentlemen, you will agree with me,
that the same reason that' induced parties to
get the retraction, influenced them in sending her away. They are connected; there is
a vital connection between the obtaining of
this retraction, and the sending Bessie Turner
out of Brooklyn. Now, here are her letters;
January 12th is the last. 
UTTERANCES INCONSISTENT WITH ADULTERY.
there.  I have never understood that the
charge was one of attempted violence.  So
that letter of Bessie Turner is no retraction
of what she had really told against Theodore
Tilton, as I understand it.  So it does not
convict her of falsehood; if any such stories
had got in circulation, she could properly
deny them.  And now, gentlemen, isn't it
remarkable that the man who, they say, sent
her away, had no inducement to get any retraction from her?  She had never circulated
any stories about Mr. Beecher and Mrs. Tilton; she never had anything to retract concerning them, and nobody ever suspected her
of a disposition to talk concerning them.
That is a pretense.  Buat we have the fact
that she talked about Theodore Tilton.  We
have the fact that it was well known to
Moulton and Tilton that she was talking
about him at this very time.  Moulton tells
you so.  We have the fact that those two retractions were obtained and she was sent
away; and we shall show you, gentlemen,
that she was sent away as an inducement to
her giving these retractions.
But more, we have it from the unconscious
language of Francis D. Moulton himself,
when he says that "he told Mr. Beecher."
Mind you, Francis D. Moulton is the man
that suggested the sending away  of Miss
Turner, not Henry Ward Beecher.  Francis
D. Moulton is the man who makes the suggestion, and he tells Mr. Beecher that Mr.
Tilton cannot afford to pay the  expenses,
Ah, indeed! If it was Mr. Beecher's business
to send her away, why would Tilton have
ever thought of saying whether he was able
or not able to pay Mr. Beecher's bills? Do
you say that you are not able to pay your
neighbor's hack bill? Does that question ever
occur to you? Do you ever use any such language about paying your neighbor's hack bill?
If this was Mr. Beecher's affair-if she was to
go away for his protection, and not for Mr.Tilton's-why did Mr. Moulton use the remarkable language that " she ought to be got out
of town, but Mr. Tilton cannot afford to pay
the expenses "?
You cannot have a more explicit acknowledgment, gentlemen, that it was understood
by  all the parties that it was  an affair
which Mr. Tilton was to pay, but an expense
which he could not afford to incur, because of
his reduced condition in consequence of his
dismissal.  And therefo)re, in the interest of
peace, when they are getting everybody to
retract and are seeking to repair Mr. Tilton's
character-everybody is to retract that has
ever   said    anything  against hims-they say it
is indispensable to his salvation from this
girl that she be got out of Brooklyn, but he
could not afford to pay the expenses.   Then
Mr. Beecher says: "If it will be doing a favor to Mr. Tilton, I will pay the expenses of
sending her to school; I will mleet these
expenses;  Mr. Til ton  i s  in   reduced circumstances; Mr. Tilton's income has been cut
off; if it is really necessary to his restoration
that this girl should be got away where she
cannot talk, why send her to school and I
will pay the expenses." And now these men
come in, gentlemen, and attempt by their
oath to turn upon Mr. Beecher a transaction
that was instituted and carried forward, as
the written documents which we have already
introduced, as the evidence which we shall
further introduce will show you, for Tilton's
benefit. Yet, that has been made a charge
of crime against  M'r. Beecher.    But, gentlemen, they soon found that reinstatement was
impossible; Bowen could not or, would not
take Mr. Tilton back. Therefore, the scheme
of The Golden Age was started. That history,
gentlemen, you know; I shall not dwell upon
it. Sufficient to say that it was started under
auspices that were favorable, and that Mr.
Tilton believed he was going to have a great
success in that paper, and he probably would
have had a success in it but for the folly
which he was led to commit in the summer
following, in writing Mrs. Woodhull's life.
There   is anothe r fact, gentlemen, tha t
transpired at the interview on  January   3d or
4th, to which I desi  r      e to call your attention.
It is the  interview when Mr. Beecher  meets
Mr. Tilton at Mr. Moulton's house, early in
January, when  Mr. T i lton  cut him, you will
remember: did not receive him cordially. I
call your attention to it briefly in support of
the  theory that  we  are now attempting    to
bring before you, that the action of all of
these parties has been inconsistent with adtltery. Mr.   Moulton    say s  that Mr.  Tilton did
n ot  recognize  Mr. Beeche r cordially at thei r
first meeting, after January, and he upbraided
him for it. He says: " Why, Mr. Beecher
hers done all he could; he has apologized.
You ought to accept it; you ought to recognize him, and I don't like to have you treat
a guest in my  house in this way."   Well,
now, gentlemen, are you prepared to believe
that Francis D. Moulton used such language
as that to an injured husband who was meeting the seducer of his wife? And he talked to
Mr. -Tilton so severely that Mr. Tilton did
recognize Mr. Beecher.  I do not (well on it;
I only call it to your mind for the purpose of
showing simnply that their actions are entirely
inconsistent with the theory which they now
seekto advance. It is impossible that a man
can upbraid another for not shaking hands
with one who has done him such a great wrong
as that, the first time meeting him after
such a disclosure. It would be an insult and
an outrage which I do not think even Moul
55
UTTERANCES INCONSISTENT WITEI
ADULTERY. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
ton  could be guilty of perpetrating upon
his most admired friend.
Then comes the correspondence of February
7th, where three letters, gentlemen, were
written on the same day, written, as Mr. Til ton tells you, at Mr. Moulton's suggestion.
All these writings are done at their sugges tion.  Mr. Beecher is told, "You had better
write; there is some object that you can
accomplish by a letter; now write."   And
the three letters are written, two by Mr.
Beecher-one to Mrs. Tilton and the other to
Mr. Moulton-and a letter by Tilton to Moul ton. Now, the object of these letters, gentle men, is very obvious; it is to make more
complete the reconciliation which these par ties had attempted to inaugurate.  The men
were reconciled after this interview at Mr.
Moulton's house to which I have just alluded,
but the woman  was sulky; the woman was
resentful at her treatment;  she was not
entirely reconciled.   She was recovering in
health; they were not entirely sure that when
she got out from under that roof again she
would not go talking. She did not admire the
manner in which. she had been treated by her
husbandl, and they wanted to make doubly
sure of her submission;  so they got Mr.
Beecher to write this woman a letter, using
all the influence that he had upon her, urging
her to live with her husband, to submit to
the wrongs that she was  called upon to
endure, and to build up and restore the peace
and unity of her family.   That was on the
7th of February. But there is a remark in the
letter which Mr. Beecher writes Moulton to
which I desire to call your attention, gentlemen.   it is in the line of the thought which
I am now advancing, that the conduct of
these parties shows conclusively that they
were not dealing in regard to an admitted
adultery, for in that letter of Mr. Beecher to
Mr. Moulton,  speaking of Mrs. Tilton, he
says:  "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."  Is that not a remarkable sentence for
a man to write to the most intimate friend of
a husband who has been outraged by his wife
being debauched by her pastor, for that pastor to say to his friend:' I hope to see that
husband loving his wife with more even than
the old love "-love her better than he ever
did because of this act and after it? Is it
possible that if this was an admitted adultery,
and this man  had forgiven his wife, that
Henry Ward Beecher could be urging upon
this mutual friend, this dearest friend of the
husband, that the husband should love the
wife better than he ever did before? Wouldn't
a man be quite contented if he could see the
husband love her as well as be ever did before?  Gentlemen, Henry Ward Beecher w'as
writing of the supposed affection which this
woman had for   him, a  nd  ha     d  assured  Mr.
Tilton that he had never intended any wrong
to him, that if his wife's affections had be come alienated it had been by his unconscious
act, and he was suggesting undoubtedly that
if Mr. Tilton would be more attentive at
home, show his wife more attention, he could
win back her affections, and be trusted to see
that family, which had thus been alienated
and shattered, restored and built up, and the
affection existing between husband and wife
greater than it had ever been before. That
is consistent; that is honorable; that is reas onable. But the suggestion that the husband
should love a wife who had been debauched
better than he ever loved her before, is a sug gestion, I am sure, that never could have
emanated from the pen of Henry Ward
Beecher.
Then there are other letters during the
winter or spring after that 7th of February,
to which I shall not call your attention, ex cept one, gentlemen. They have introduced
a letter here from Mr. Beecher. which they
say was an invitation to Mrs. Tilton to visit
him at his house during the absence of his
wife, and while his sister kept house for him.
Now, we shall end,all that, gentlemen, by
showing that if that was such an invitation,
or was understood to be such an invitation,
that Mrs. Tilton never, as matter of fact, did
visit Henry Ward Beecher at his house. I
shall not stop to discuss, and it is not my purpose to discuss, the effect of the construction
to be put upon that letter; but I simply announce to you the fact that no such visit ever
did take place. She did not call upon Henry
Ward Beecher at his house during that winter. The sister was keeping house, and the
sister will be introduced on the stand and will
so tell you. So will all the other letters, upon
which I cannot dwell at present-I mean the
later letters that passed in that winter.
Nor will I stop to consider the monstrous
story which this plaintiff has told you conceriiing a remarkable interview which he says
occurred between him and Mr. Beecher when
they'held an inquest over the paternity of
the last child of Mr. Tilton.  The monstrosity
of such a story is sufficient to shock the moral
sense of any man who is compelled to listen
to it. You wilt not believe, gentlemen, that
any such interview ever occurred.  We shall
show you what did occur there by the witness
who was present and who took part in it.
That was a friendly interview, and it was one
in which Mr. Tiltorn expressed a wish that the
past be buried, and that the old relations of
Mr. Beecher to that family be restored, and
he resume  his visits-a foct  which is quite
inconsistent with adultery. But, for reasons
which are obvious to you, while Mr. Beecher
had the deepest sympathy for this woman,
and while he lead the highest regard for her,
lie, of course, under the circumstances, would
56 
TILTON'S RELATIONS WITHI MRS. WOODHIULL.
not  renew his visits to that family,  and
never did.
brought into relations with her on account of
her knowledge of this scandal, and never pursuing that acquaintance was beyond wbat necessary, or what he deemed to be necessary to
induce her to suppress it and not to publish it. Now, if it should transpire, gentlemen,
that this is a misrepresentation on the part
of Mr. Tilton, you will at once perceive howy
fatal it is to his case.  If he  has presumed,
under th e   so lemnit y o f an of ath,  to  account to
you and to this community for the remarkable relation which existed between himself
and Victoria Woodhull, bv  invoking this
scandal and its existence, and his apprehension that she might give publicity to it, when
that statement is untrue-wily, of course I
need not say to you that no m'n would  give
credence to anything he has said here from
the witness stand.
If we satisfy you, gentlemen, that his acquaintance with that woman, whether it
originated at the time he says it did or before, whether it was a,; chaste and uinexceptionable as he pretends it was, or not-if we
succeed in satisfying you that that acquaintance did not originate and was not continued
by him for the purpose of inducing her to
suppress this scandal, then we corltraidict him
on a vital point of this case. I shall not deta,in you, gentlemen, by a. detailed statement
of what we shall show in this p:lrticul:ir; but
if it should happen to transpire theft Mr. Tilton's acquaintatnce with thli.$ women did not
begin when he savs it did; if it went to a dcgree that he says it did  lot; if it was calrried
on for the purpose of inducing this publication instead of suppressing it, then lix attempted explanation of his acquaintance with
Mrs. Woodhull will prove to him the most
fatal part of this case.
That he went down to Coney Island with
her in a carriage is admitted by him. He denies that he went bathing with her. We
shall satisfy you, gentlemen, that he-is mistaken in that particular; at least we shall
prove to you that when they ar,'ived at Coney
Island on that occasion, thev d,,posit d their
watches in the custody of the coechman, and
went to the sea-shore, as if to batthe-all, of
course, for the sake of Mr. Bec'cer, and to
preserve him from  this sci(talous puiblication! Aid we shall showyou that when they
return(!d the golden locks of  Mir. Tilton were
damp with the mists of the ocean, unless, inleed, they were dampened by the perspiration
that he suffered on account of  the agony he
was enduring for the sake of Henry Wa,rd
Beecher, in his associations witlh Mrs. Woodhull on the sea-coast at that time. We shall
show you that they returned to) the carriage
with all the evidences that they had been
bathing together. We shall show vou, gentlemen, what is not in fact disputed here,
that when driven back to this city, they stopped at the house, I think, of Moulton, and
Gentlemen, we have now approached the
period of time in this case when the plaintiff
says he first made the acquaintance of Victoria
Woodhull.  Something of the history of that
acquaintance, gentlemien, has already been
detailed to you from the witness stand.  You
know something of the character and public
position of Mrs. Woodhull, of her principles
and the manner in which she  advocated
them; and the fact of this acquaintance of
Theodore Tilton  with  her  has also been
brought to your attertion.  It is conceded
that in September, 1871, he wrote and published a biography of Mis. Woodhull.   That
has not been introduced in evidence to you,
the whole of it, at least, but enough has been
introduced to show you something of the
character of the wor k; and the fact that he
published it is admitted.   He tells you, gentlemen, that that acqu intance of his with
Mrs. Woodhull was a misfortune to him, and
he has stated in various ways that it was a
great misfortune, a great calamity to him.
That that was the secret of Mr. Tilton's f      ilurein his newspaper enterprise, The Golden
Age, I have no doubt.  At least that was sufficient to prevent success, if success had otherwise been possible.  But the most remarkable feature of his evidence in this connection,
is that he attempts to charge the existence of
that acquaiintanice, atid his association with
Mrs. Woodhull, to the defendant in this suit.
Even the writing of that Life, even his falling in love and becoming infatuated with this
woman, is all on account of the defendant
and  for  his sake,  and  on  account  of
his wife's  sake.   The period  which  he
assigns for the beginning of this acquaintance is a very remarkable one.   He fixes it
about May  23, 1871, and he tells you that
before that time he had not known Mrs.
lVoodhliull. He represents to you, gentlemen,
as he is bounid to do on his theory of his
case, that his acquaintance with her being
for the purpose of preventing her fromt publishing this scund;l, was entirely pure on his
part that he never saw Victoria Woodhiull
guilty of any impropriety, and that his relations with her hare beer always entirely proper.  Because, you perceive, as he perceives,
that if he was compelled to admit that improper relations existed between himself and
Mrs. Woodhull, even he could hardly have
the presumption to say that that was for the
sake of Henry Ward Beecher, or for the sake
of his wife. Therefore he makes his acquaintance with her merely casual, having been
57
AFTERNOON SESSION.
TILTON'S RELATIONS WITH MRS.
WOODHULL. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
late in the evening they ordered a covered
carriage, and he went home with Mrs. Woodhull.  We shall show you that he discharged
the carriage at that house, and the coachman
left him there, where, we suppose, he remained all night, all for the sake of Mrs.
Tilton, and to save her from the apprehended
scandal that Mrs. Woodhull was threatening
to publish! We probably shall leave little
doubt on your minds, gentlemen, before the
evidence closes, that Mr. Tilton used that acquaintance with.Victoria Woodhull to stimulate this woman to the publication of this
scandal rather than to its suppression.  Unless I am very much mistaken, we shall show
these two parties colluding together tupon
this subject.  Unless I am misinformed or
misapprehend the force of our evidence, we
shall show these parties in consultation together.  We  probably shall shcw you that
the slip, substantially as published afterwards, was in circulation in the newspaper
offices long before that publication, and I
think we shall leave no doubt in your minds
that Theodore  Tilton knew it and understood it.  If we do this. and we bring you
to the conclusion that Theodore Tilton was
using the acquaintance of this woman to induce her to make this publication instead of
suppressing it, what becomes of his oath upon this point  and his credibility as a witness upon any other point in the case?
I need not dwell, gentlemen. to you on
the fact that Mr. Moulton and Mr. Tilton induced Mrs. Moulton to go over for this woman and bring her to the house of Moulton
in this city, not once, but twice, thrice, or
more.  I need not dwell upon the fact that
this biography of her was published Septembet 14th, in Tkhe New York Sun, as we shall
show you.  It has already transpired about
what time it was published. It was published
about  the same time that  he  published
the free-love article in The Golden Age.  The
two publications were almost simultaneous,
and his publication of his principles of freelove in The Golden Age was made, as we
shall show you, almost in the precise language in which Mrs. Woodhull announced
her views upon the same question about the
same time.   This publication,  gentlemen,
was  fatal, as I have said, to Mr. Tilton's
prospects as a journalist.  The indignation
which that publication brought upon him
from one end of the country to the other was
evidence to him that his fate was sealed as
the editor of a great newspaper in this country, unless he could devise some plan for relieving himself fvom that burden. But not
only did he publish that Life, but we have
shown you that he presided at the Steinway
Hall meeting, and introduced her there. We
have had the evidence of M'r. Moulton as to
his s      peech.   We s hall  presen t  p bobulably  a
more authentic report of it than has yet been
presented, and show you that be introduced
her as the advocate of social freedom, and
what  that meant   in his  mind  and in hers
there will be no room for doubt.
But Theodore Tilton was not content with
cultivating Mrs. Woodhull himself.   He attempted to involve Mr.  Bee cher  in that   association; and what was the motive, gentlemen? Having involved himself in difficulty
by  this indiscreet publication, his effort  was
to compel Mr. Beecher to relieve him or to
come to his relief; in other words, having
found that he had t aken u po n h is shoulder s  a
load greater than  he cou ld be ar, h   e undertook to "unload," in the language of "the
street," on Mr. Beecher; and he wanted Mr.
Beecher to come forward before the public to
indorse this woman in some way, so that to
everybody who assailed him for publishing
her life he could point to the pastor of Plymouth Church and say: "True, I published
her biography, but Henry Ward Beecher indorsed the woman and her sentiments at
Steinway Hall. If you have got any quarrel with me. you have the same quarrel with
Henry Ward Beecher.  This woman is a good
woman. This woman is a pure woman. An
enthusiast she may be; but the fact that
Henry Ward Beecher has indorsed her is evidence of her purity, and does not enable any
man to condemn me for having published her
biography." That was his effort. It was the
scheme of himself and Moulton, and it is the
explanation of their efforts to induce Mr.
Beecher to preside at that Steinway Hall
meeting. I have no doubt if we could penetrate the inner recesse- of the thoughts of
these three persons, it would transpire that
the Steinway Hall meeting was devised for no
other purpose than to induce Mr. Beecher to,
preside at it, and thus indorse this woman,
and thus to that extent relieve Theodore
Tilton from the scandal and the obloquy
that he had brought upon himself by publishing her life.   That life, as I say, was published in September.
On the lst of November Tilton published
the poem that has been given in evidence
here, known as " Sir Marmaduke's Musings,"
and the object -of that, although it is denied
by Mr. Tilton, is perfe!ctly obvious. There
had been comparative peace from the 7th of
February, in this matter, until November 1st.
There had been no outbreak; there had been
no scandal; there had been nothing but such
a circulation as was given to it by the whisperings of Tilton and one or two others who
were quietly circulating stories injurious to
Mlr. Beecher. What their nature or what
their character was we do not know, but
there had been to a certain extent circulations injurious to his character in this connection; but there had been no outbreak,
and no outbreak had been threatened. Nonle
would have been made, gentlemen, if Theo
58 
MENACES TO MR. BEECHER.
dore Tilton had remained prosperous.  If he
had not made this blunder of writing the life
of this woman, if he had not become so infatuated with her as to have lost his head
and made a fool of himself. if he had gone
on prosperously in The Golden Age, having a
fair future before him, I have no idea that
any publication would ever have been made,
or any allusion made to hlis troubles. The
history of this case shows to you, gentlemen,
that whenever Theodore Tilton was prosperous, or whenever  he had a future before
him, he was as silent as the grave concerning
this scandal. It was only when in adversity,
only when he was down and was requiring
help to be lifted, only when he was involved
in difficulty and was demanding that Mr.
Beecher should put his hand beneath him
and raise him up, that he ever bruited this
scandal at all.  Then in September, I say,
at the  time of this publication, all was
peaceful, but he had involved himself in difficulty. Mr. Beecher did not come forward
to indorse Mrs. Woodhull, or to relieve him
from that difficulty.  It is well known, and
will be shown to you, that Mr.  Beecher always repudiated that relationof Tilton with
Mrs. Woodhull.  From the beginning to the
end he told him it was disastrous.  From the
beginning to the end he always told him:
II There is no power on earth can lift you into
the respect of the people of this country
unless you repudiate absolutely your relations with this woman."  That was the position that Henry Ward Beecher always held
to Mr. Tilton.  It is the language he always
used from beginning to end.  "You must repudiate your relation there; you must cast
her off; you must say to the people that in
some way or other you have made a mistake,
and you repent of it: and that henceforward
your conduct will be entirely free from just
cause of complaint in this particular."
O I  clasped a woman's breast,
As if her heart I knew,
Or fancied would be true,
But proved-alas. she too,
False like the rest."
And yet- h         e            tells you, gentlemen, that
althoughE  t f    the story of the scandal had been
circulated among a large number of peoples;
although it was known  t o the  Woodhulls, as
he says, he  e May previous, who had th reate ned to make it  public,   and who had published
a card which  called  attention   t o the fact that
some prominent minister in Brooklyn was
living a life of adultery with the  wift of  another  prominens  teacher  in Broo klyne; although it  h ad circula ted among his  h andful
of friends, and how far it had gone he   d id
not  know,  y et h e t ells you that w hen  he published  that verse he had no idea  that anybody
wouldn  think that he referred to  his o wn wife.
Do     you b  e lieve it?
According to his o wn showing the story
had been in   circulation   for  nearly a year.
How extensively circulated he could not
know, but he  did know th a t   rumor of    a domestic infelicity in his owni family had received a  considerable circulation  in this community.  Could he e e so dull as not to   understand that the publication of that poem
over his own signature would be a confession
to every person who  had heard it, of that
rumor, that the rumor was true, in whatever
form they may have heard it?  Whether it
was of adultery, or of improper proposals, or,
of undue affection; no matter, I repeat, in
what form they had heard the rumor, every
person who heard the rumor of a domestic
difficulty in the family of Theodore Tilton
would have taken that poem as a confirmation of its truth. Didn't he know it
would be so received? Can it be possible he
did not know it? And yet, he tells you
from the witness stand that if he supposed
any person could have imagined  that that
had reference to his own domestic troubles
he would have suffered his right ha,nd to be
cut off before he would have published it. I
say that that was a menace; it was to send
alarm to Mr. Beecher; it was to say to him:
" Sir, you inust come uip to my rescue and my
relief, or you will be scandalized by this report."  And immediately following that publication, on the 1st of November, was started
the Steinway Hall meeting, where they attempted to induce —riot only induce, but by
threats, to cumpel MIr. Beechier to preside.
59
which he bad before published in The Independent and Golden.Aqe? There was nothing
known to the public that could have justified
that first verse in this poem except his known
relations with that woman. It was that and
that onlv to which he alluded. But the
poem was an excuse merely to publish the
following verse:
MENACES TO MR. BEECHER.
But Mr. Beecher not moving, Mr. Tilton
must give him a menace; he must do something to alarm him. something to stir him
up, to make him go forward to,lid him out
of the difficulty into which he had fallen
with the Woodhulls. So on the lst of November be published what is known as II Sir
Miti-ii;aduke's Musings. " The first verse of
it is;
1, I won a noble fame,
But, with a sudden frown,
The people snatched my crown,
And in the mire trod down
]Ky lofty name. "
What had happened to have the people
with a sudden fi-own snatch the crown of
Theodore Tilton on the Ist of November,
18i I? What but his relations with Victoria
Woodhull and liis doctiije of Free Love, 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
And it is a remarkable fact in this scan dal, gentlemen-it has been once stated and
proved,  and  probably  will be again, that
in his relations with  the  Woodhull women,  hlie  was much  more  solicitous  on
account of his wife and Mr. Beecher than they
were for themselves. For it is true that Mrs.
Tilton, notwithstanding the threats and argu
ments by which lie attempted to persuade her
to acquiesce in his relations with this woman,
always scouted her                       and always defied her.
She never feared the slanders of Mrs. Woodhull, and she never accepted the arguments
of her husband that it was necessary to placate this woman and prevent her circulating
stories derogatory to her  character.   She
would not have the Woodhull women in her
house; and you see when Mr. Beecher was
urged to preside at this meeting and to indorse this woman, he faced everything rather
than consent to it.  He  said: "Let her do
her worst; you, Theodore Tilton, do your
worst; no power on God's earth shall induce
me to indorse the principles that this woman
advocates."
In confirmation of the fact which I have
just stated,  that Mr.  Tilton's pecuniary
wants were always the standard by which
you could determine what his course was to
be about these slanders, I am just reminded by my learned associate that at the very
time of the publication of this " Sir Marmadukle's Musings," and this effort to compel Mr. Beecher to preside at the Steinway
Hall meeting, Mr.  Tilton  had just overdrawn his account at Woodruff& Robinson's,
and was consequently out of money. The importance of that will be made apparent as we
go along to another point of this case.  But I
refer to another fact, gentlemen, in evidence,
in support of my  view that the Steinway
Hall meeting was designed for the purpose of
compelling Mr. Beecher to relieve Mr. Tilton
from the load of obloquy which rested upon
him; and that his refusing to do so was regarded as an act of hostility by Mr. Tilton,
and was so treated by Mr. Moulton.   From
that time forward, whatever they may have
pretended to Mr. Beecher, their course has
been one of secret hostility, which has never
ceased for a single moment.  And, in support
of that, I refer you to a letter of February 5th,
1872.   That is the long letter written to
Moulton on the 5th of February, 1872, which
is known on this trial as the " Ragged Edge
Letter."  It is one iu which Mr. Beecher, you
remember,  refers to his having upon  his
hands his church, his book, and his newspaper, and his being so absorbed in these
labors and his course of lecturing abroad; he
was necessarilly taken away from the society
of Moulton; saw but little of him, while
Moulton had Tilton constantly under his
presence; andi, therefore, was continuously
impressed with Tilton's needs and necessities,
" For all this fall and   winter I have f elt that you
did not feel satisfied with me, and that I seemed
both to you and Tilton as contenting myself with a
cautious or sluggish policy, willing to save myself,
but not to risk anything for Tilton."
"All this fall and winter;" that is going
back to his refusal to preside at the Steinway
Hall  meeting, which   wa s    the  preceding
November. That is      the  beginning   of the
coldness  of Moulton towards Beech er; or, in
other words, it is the commencement of a
feeling     on h  is par t    that h e  could not induce
Beecher to  come  forwar ad  and indorse this
woman for the purpose of saving Theodore
Tilton. This letter was written  on the 5th
of February,  1872.  About that time, vyo    u
remember, gentlemen, Tilton went West on a
lecturing tour. His controversy with Bowen
for his compensation had been pending under
the charge of Moulton from January 1,
1871. It was now February, 1872, and he
had not been paid.  No money had been received on account of it. He goes West in
1872, and re:turns discouraged.  He finds the
public hostility against him so great that he
cannot withstand it.  They did not understand how it was that his relation with The
Independent and The Union were so suddenly
and mysteriously severed. Bowen still held
out and refused to pay. The Golden Age was
failing and was not paying expenses, and
Tilton's money was again exhausted. Something must be done to replenish his treasury.
That claim against Bowen must be pushed to
a successful issue, and that amount received,
or The Golden.ge and all its prospects must
collapse.
You remember, gentlemen, the letter which
he wrote to Bowen on the 2d of January,
1871, immediately after his dismissal by that
gentleman, in which he recounts, item by
item, the different slanders which he said
Bowen repeated against Henry Ward Beecher
-at the interview on the 26th of December
He wrote that letter. What was his motive?
NVe say it was  twofold:  First, to show
Baecher that if he did not sever the union
between himself and Bowen, and make peace
with Tilton, he would have to subject himself to the publication of this letter, and to
this open scandal which would arise from its
publication, because Tilton would publish to
the world the accusations which Bowen had
made against Beecher-the fact that he had
instigated Tilton to write that letter, and
that that had led to his dismissal. He pretends to say that he deemed the publication
of that letter necessary to a proper explana
60
as be necessarily could not be with the sittiotion of Mr. Beecher. You will remember the
letter. I only desire to call your attention to
a sidgle phrase of this letter in this connection for the purpose of illustrating the poiii.t
that I am now making. Mr. Beecher says: 
BOWEN THE VICTIM OF A BLACKMAILING SCHEME.
tion of his dismissal.  At all events, its prep tration  and  its  threatened  use  showed
Beecher that if he persisted in hostility to
Tilton, and  continued  his relations  with
Bowen, and so took Bowen's side of the fight,
that letter would be published and he would
have to confront the public scandal which
would arise from it.  It was used as a menace
to Bowen by saying, "Sir, I publish this letter to the world; I inform the world over
my own signature that in that interview you
repeated  those  horrible  scandals  against
Henry Ward Beecher.  You instigated me                           to
write that letter.  You promised to support
it.  You promised to bear it to Mr. Beecher
yourself. You have borne it to him as my
friend, and you basely deserted me and joined
hiin, and that is the explanation of my dismissal. "
not induced him   to pay.  But when Tilton
returned from the West, what does he do?
He makes what he calls, or heads, " a personal
statement," and li e  goes  and  set s  i t  up i n
type in The  Golden  Age, as if he was         to pub
lish it-an explanation        of  the   reason s why he
was dismissed from Tahe Union and Independent by Bowen, in  which article you  remember
he        incorporat es     that letter of  Jarulary  1,
1871.  He takes proof-slips of that article -
press copies, as they are t e chnic ally knownand what  does he  do with them.
Now, gentlemen of the jury, Tilton tells
you that he  felt impelled to make  a  publication    of  the reasons w hi ch had  led to    his dismissal  in   order to s atisf y the pu blic.  He
took press copies, and he took pains to have
it shown to    Bowen, as if he  was going  to
publish it, and he  takes  one  of t hes e pres s
copies himself to  Samuel Wilkesoil, as    we
shall show you, an  own er in The  Christian
Union, largely interested  in  th e  publish ing
house of  Ford & Co., wh   o     were Mr.  Beecher's
publishers. and hie told him that he  should
publish that article unless Henry Ward
Beecherf did  him j  ustice.   Not u nless Henry
C. Bowe n  did him justice. That would  have
produced no  effect at all upon Samuel Wil keson; but he took it to Wilkeson, a friend of
Beecher, a man  deeely i nt ereste   d in th e reput ation an d   prosper ity  of             Mr. Beec her as a
writer and a newspaper edito r;  a  man who
was t o  suffer a large pecuniary loss if anything happened to Mr. Beecher which should
injure his  usefulness in this respec t.   His
house had invested a  larg e suhl  of mone y i n
the book w hich  Mr. Beecher   wa.s the n   preparing-" The Life of Christ." It was then
uncompleted.  Wilkeson saw a t a  glan ce that
if that article was  published  it w ou ld produce
a pu bli c scan dal, which he told       Tilton, then
and there, wo uld sh ake  Christendo m, and he
says:  "Tilton, you  must not      think  of
making this pu blication, Wh a t  has Mr.
Beecher done to you?" Says Tilton: "He
did nothing  to   save me  w hen          Bowen di.missed  me.   He could by the   lifting  of h i s
little finger  have  save d  me; but whe n  I lay
upon t he sidew alks in Brookl yn, d eprived of
my position, deprived of my opportunity for
pecuniary profit and fame; when he saw me
lying helpless upon  the sidewal k,      he passed
by on the other  si d e; he  did not hing;   he refused to aid me, and now he must do me
justice." Bear in mind, gentlemen, that
Henry Ward Beecher owed Theodore Tilton
nothing. Theodore Tilton apparently was
not seeking to extort money from Henry
Ward Beecher, but he was seeking to obtain
what he claimed was due him from Bowen.
If he was prosecuting an honest claim, why
did he go to the friend of Henry Ward
Beecher about it at all? Why didn't he go
to Mr. Bowen? We shall show you he did
cause the letter to be camrnunicated to Bowen
It was a missile, therefore, that was prepared to be hurled against both of these men; 
but it had another object.  He knew that
Henry C. Bowen would never dare to face
those  accusations  against  Henry   Ward
Beecher.  He knew that Bowen would compromise or adjust those difficulties in some
n)anner, because he would never take the
responsibility of fatherlin  such a scandal as
that. He hoped, probably, in its first prep-tration, to induce Bowen to compromise and
patch up a peace by which he would be taken
b-lnk; but, when that failed, he knew it
could be used for extorting the money.
Moulton himself tells you, gentlemen-and
it is a most significant sentence, one which I
hope was so impressed upon your minds when
't fell from the lips of that witness that it has
not left your minds, and will not leave them
until the case is finally decided-he told you
that that letter was prepared to be used
t,, negotiate with Bowen.   Ah! it was  a
business letter.   Tilton had an eye to business in everything that he did in this transaction. It was business from beginning to
end. Whether his wife's virtue or his own
character was involved, it was all brought to
the standard of business-business; and this
letter reciting those horrible stories and aceuisations was prepared that it might be used
to negotiate with Bowen, says Moulton, and
it was used, as I will show you, gentlemen,
as few documents have ever been used in a
Christian community, for the purpose of extorting money from a man who denied his
liability. A suit had been instituted, but
that didn't bring Bowen to terms. Bowen is
not fiightened at law-suits. But accusations
agatinst prominent clergymen are quite a different matter with him. The law-suits had
not compelled him to pay. An intimation
that that paper might possibly be used had
61
BOWEN THE VICTIM OF A BLACKMA
ING SCHEME. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
by another hand-a threatened publication.
)Did he ever intend to publish, gentlemen?
Was that letter prepared by Theodore Tilton
with an honest intention to publish it, for the
purpose of making this explanation to the
public, which he pretends to have thought
necessary; or, was it prepared for the sole
and single purpose of being exhibited to the
friends of Mr. Beecher and the friends of
Bowen, to compel Bowen to settle this
account, and to compel Beecher's fiiends to
insist to Bowen that he should settle that ac count? On this important point I will cite
no other witness against Theodore Tilton but
Theodore Tilton himself.  If I satisfy you,
gentlemen, that his pretense that he prepared
that article with a view to publication was
untrue; that his whole object was to extort
the payment of his claim, which he said
Bowen owed him, and to induce Mr. Beecher
and his friends to insist to Bowen that he
should pay him-I say, if 1 satisfy you that
was his only object, then I show Theodore
Tilton engaged in a transaction that car. be
truly called by no other name than that of
blackmail, for no man is at liberty to resert
to threatening a publication, or creating a
scandal against another in order to compel
the settlement of a disputed claim.
You see, gentlemen, that if the allegation
upon which Henry C. Bowen discharged Tiltotn, to wit, his immoralities, which rendered
it unsafe and improper for him to continue
his relations upon the paper, had been true,
he could  have  successfully defended  any
action  that Theodore  Tilton might bring
against him.  He had brought his action,
and Bowen had not paid.   That this article
was prepared for the purpose of extorting this
money, as I have said, I cite no other witness
against Hilton than Tilton himself.  What
does he tell you?  He says that this article
was prepared and set up, and two or three
copies of it struck off; that the type was then
"locked up," the proof corrected, in which
Oliver Johnson assisted him, and one or two
copies struck off-not over two, he says-and
he accounts for every copy, you remember,
or attempts to, and then, says he, the type
was immediately distributed.
I want to know how he could publish it in
The Golden Age.  If he set up this article,
and struck off only three or four copies to be
used for private circulation, to be exhibited to
Bowen and to Beecher and their friends, and
then immediately distributed the type, how
could he have made the publication? The
fact  that that type  was  distributed irnmediately upon the striking off of these one
or two extra copies, gentlemen, is conclusive
evidence that he never intended to make the
publication, never expected to make the publication.  He got his copies so that he could
show the people that he was about to make
the publication; so that he could say to them
he would make the publication, but he never
intended to ma ke it.  He in tended to use it
simply forth pos  lli n  the purpos e ofa cmpelling the payment of this   money,  and  when  h e got his
press  copies o, he says, he   immedi ately caused
the type to be    distributed.
But, having  got his press copies,  then  he
proceeds to  use t hem,  and, as    I say, he cal led
upon  Mr. Wilkeson, Mr. Beecher's friend,
and Mr.  Wilke son was horrified at the suggestion  of such a  publi c ati on as that.  He
saw at once the f ir e that it would kindle.  He
knew the scandal that it would cre ate.  He
knew the shock it would produce to this entire community, and he said: II It will never
do to make this publication, Mr. Tilton.  If
Mr. Bowen owes you money he must pay it.
I will see Mr. Beecher, and Mr. Beecher has
friends in Brooklyn that can induce Henry
C. Bowen to pay that money if he owes it to
you.   I will undertake to see that you get
your money from Mr. Bowen; at least I will
aid you.'" And  Mr. Tilton said: "What a
fortunate thing it was that I c:lled on you
this afternoon! I was walking along Fiftih
avenue, thinking how disastrous had been all
my undertakings, how failure after failure
had met me, and as I came along past this
building, it occurred to me that my old friend
Samuel Wilkeson was here, and 1 thought I
would step in and see him.   What a fortunate thing it was that I did. Some kind
angel must have directed my steps hither!"
That was on the 29th day of March, 1872,
and on the 3d day of April Theodore Tilton
had  a check in his pocket from  Henry C.
Bowen for $7,000.
I don't say that Henry C. Bowen was blackmailed, gentlemen.   Oh, no! I don't say
but what he owed Theodore Tilton honestly
that money under his contracts. It is verv
clear that Tilton satisfied Wilkeson that he
did; I don't say how that is; I don't know
how it is; I don't care how it is; I only
know that the claim had been in existence
for 15 months, and a suit had been brought
and Mr. Bowen had not paid, and I know
that when Theodore Tilton came home from
the west and made his personal statement,
and took three or four press copies of it, and
had distributed the type, and then went to
circulating the copies around among the
friends of Beecher and Henry C.  Bowen-I
know the money came.
62
THE TRIPARTITE AGREEMENT.
It came as the result of an arbitration,
wbicb produced what is known to.yoii as the
"Tripartite Agreement," where all these
difficulties were settled and adjusted. And
here, as I sball show you, gentlemen, comes
in another one of those marvelous breaches
of faith that have characterized thie;plaintiff
and his II mutual friend" from the beginning 
THE TRIPARTITE AGREEMIENT.
of this unhappy controversy to the present
time.   I shall show you now a fact which
will leave no doubt, I take it, in your minds,
if it be true-and we shall make it clear by
evidence that even the plaintiff, I think, will
hardly dare dispute-that it was distinctly
understood and agreed, not only that all the
difficulties between  Henry C.  Bowen and
Henry Ward Beecher, but all the difficulties
between Theodore Tilton and Henry C. Bowen
and all the difficulties between Theodore Til ton and Henry Ward Beecher were to be compromised and adjusted in that arbitration and
settlement.
And further, gentlemen, when that arbitration was concludedand the tripartite agreement settled upon, it was distinctly understood and agreed that  every one  of the
papers connected with this scandal should be
destroyed.   That was a part of the arbitrabion; it was a part of the agreement; that
peace was to be final and no party to that
contract was to be at liberty, or to have the
means hereafter of reviving any of the
scandals settled or adjusted there.  This was
in 1872, you will remember, and the paper
then known as the apology, which had been
obtained from Mr. Beecher on the first of
January, the retraction, and the explanation
then existed, and were in the hands of Francis D. Moulton.  Mr. Tilton had from Mr.
Bowen what Mr. Bowen very much desired
to recover, a letter known as the Woodstock
letter.  That was to be surrendered, and all
the other papers were to be destroyed.
Now, we shall prove that, gentlemen.
But how did this gentleman and his "Mutual
Friend" carry out the agreement? I say the
same breach of good faith which has characterized every act of theirs was found in
this.  They agreed to destroy, but they never
did destroy.  The only paper connected with
this scandal that has disappeared from the
archives of Mr. Moulton is that most important paper of all, that I alluded to before, the paper on which Theodore Tilton accused Henry Ward Beecher on the night of
the 30th of December.   That paper has disappeared. That paper, they say, was destroyed fter the tripartite agreement, and in coinsequence of the tripartite agreement.   Don't
forget that, gentlemen.  They tell you their
excuse, and their only excuse for destroying
that paper, for picking it out from among
the mass of papers held by Moulton, and destroying it, was that the destruction of that
followed in consequence of the " tripartite
agreement."  They do not admit, of course,
that it was a part of the "tripartite agreenient" that it should be destroyed; but they
destroyed it afterwards, and in consequence
of that.  Why didn't they destroy all the
papers then?  They had agreed to.  Why
did they select this one paper? If it existed
to-day, this case could not stir one single
step. Why did they pick that out from
among the mass and get rid of that paper,
aud yet hold Mr. Beecher's papers in their
possession, which afterwards, by means of
oral confessions and  oral t, stimony, they
could make to mean whatever they chose to
make them to mean? And the question I am
putting to you, gentlemen, all through this
case is, whether these parties have been  ac t ingin    good  faithht ave  been fulfilling their
agre emen ts and  their arrangement s whi ch
they have entered into from time to tine.
I say they have not.   I say they have been
conspirators  all this time against  Henry
Ward Beecher; and if I show you that, in
any important point of this case, they have
been guilty of breach of faith, that they
have violated their contracts, and have ob tained advantages by fraud which they have
afterwards retained and used against him,
that is evidence sufficient to show that they
are conspirators, and have been manipulating
this defendant from the beginning to the
end, with the view of holding him in their
power so long as they could use him, and
when they could do that no longer to destroy
him if they could.
One word more upon the " tripartite agreement." Tilton tells you on his cross-exami-'
nation, gentlemen, that the signing of the
" tripartite agreement" had nothing whatever to do with the award of the money;
that the money had been paid, and it had
been actually received by him some time before there was anything at all said about this
" tripartite agreement;" that it was a subsequient suggestion, brought up and signed
by mutual consent, in no manner resting
upon this arbitration.   There. gentlemen,
we shall show you he is not truthful. On the
contrary, we shall show that the very first step
in this arbitration was the " tripartite agreement," and the award followed the agreement to sign, and not the agreement to sign
followed the award. We shall show you
that, two days before this check was prepared
and before this award was made, the " tripartite agreement " was drafted and was presented to this plaintiff, and he objected to a
clause of it, and all his objections were met
and arranged, and that the paper as agreed
to by him finally to be signed, and as it was
finally signed by him, was presented on the
night of the arbitration, ard was assented to
in the presence of the arbitrators before thev
made any award at all, or considered the
question of award; and that after this " tripartite agreement " had been fixed upon, and
all its terms settled satisfactorily to Tilton,
then the arbitrators withdrew into another
room, heard his statement and Moulton's
statement and Bowen's statement, and then
made  the award.   Then  the  "tripartite
agreement " was taken by Mr. Wilkeson and
engrossed —it having been in detached pieces 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
and erased and interlined-engrossed by Mr.
Wilkeson, just as it was agreed upon by the
parties that night, and then it was signed;
but the agreement to sign it and the terms
of the agreement were all fixed before the
arbitration commenced at all, and as a matter
that preceded the arbitration.
Well, gentlemen, Mr. Tilton got his $7,000
from Bowen, and(  was then in a prosperous  condition.   It is a remarkable  fact,
however, that just as he got the $7,000, his
dear friend, Mr. Woodruff, took advantage
of that $7,00() to get relieved from his subscriptioni to The Golden Age, and all the
parties got relieved from their subscriptions.
If it should be necessary to go into that
question farther (it is not very important and
we may not do so), but if it is necessary, we
shall have no difficulty in showing you that
Mr. Woodruff  urged the other parties to
accept these terms, on the distinct ground
that the paper was to fail; that he had no
confidence in it himself, and said it never
could succeed, owing to Mr. Tilton's fital
connection with the Woodhull woman-that
he himself was entirely disgusted with the
whole crowd, and wanted to get out of it, and
that he urged the other subscribers to get out
of it in the same way, and it was upon his
argument and his suggestion that they did it.
This was on the 4thl or 5th of April.
the  corresponde nce  we h ave int roduced bhtween himself and Horace Greeley, early in
the previous year, how little sympathy Mr.
Greeley had with the Woodhull woman or
her do      ctr ines;  and i t  wa s very clear to the
app   rehension of Mr. Tilton, I thinl, that he
could have no hope of success with Mr.
Greeley if he continued his relations with
Victoria C. Woodhull. He once in his life,
therefore, sacrificed his love to his political
ambition. He entered into the campaign, as
I say, wi th  high ho pes of su cces s, and nothing
occurred until the North Carolina election,
which was calculated to quench those hopes.
But soon after, the Maine and Pennsylvania
elections settled the fate of the Presidential
campaign.
He still, however, adhered to the fortunes
of his leader, and was engaged in New
Hampshire, just before the election, at the
time of this Woodhull publication. We may
or we mav not show, gentlemen, whether he
was absent by accident or design at that
time; but that he knew that this publication
was to be made, and had known it for some
time, I have no reasonable doubt. But the
publication was made, and Mr. Greeley was defeated, and died soon after. Mr. Tilton's hopes
of political success were gone in that direction.
That avenue to prosperity bad been closed.
He must now seek other and different avenues.
You all remember, gentlemen, the sensation which that publication created, and
the general expectation that some of the
parties, at least, mentioned in that pub1ication-not as principals, but as persons
who had the sources of information-would
deny that they had thus given the information to Mrs. Woodhull. There were various
parties named as the sources of information.
Mrs. H. B. Stanton was one, who denied
promptly, as you will remember. Mrs. Paulina
Wright Davis was another, who at the time
of its publication was in Europe, but who
denied instantly on its reaching her, that she
had been the source of information to the extent imputed to her, or to any extent whatever.  Francis D.  Moulton was another person named in the publication as one of the
sources of information; Theodore Tilton was
another, and the publication rested entirely
upon what was represented to be the information of these parties to the woman Woodhull. As I have said, Mrs. Stanton and Paulina Wright Davis denied it. It only remained for Moulton and Tilton to deny, and
the Woodhull scandal would have been dead
-dead absolutely, beyond the hope of a resurrection, without either of the principals,
Henry Ward Beecher or Mrs. Tilton, touching
it at all. But we have shown you that Tilton refused to deny, and there was a long
delay. Nothing was heard from either Moulton or Tilton on the subject.
THIE GREELEY CAMPAIGN AND THE
You will remember that the Cincinnati
Convention followed soon after, in the beginning of May.  Mr. Tilton went to the Cincinnati Convention.  He claims. in an article
subsequently published in The Golden Age,
that he suggested the nomination of Horace
Greeley to that Convention.   Whether he
got it patented or not I do not know.  But
at all events he took a very prominent part
in that campaign.  He looked to the success
of Horace Greeley as the opening of a new
avenue to his own success; and it is fair to
say that in the beginning of that campaign
the prospect did not look unreasonable.  He
went into the campaign heartily,  and all
through the summer of 1872 you observe
there is no outbreak in regard to the scandal.
The money had been got from Bowen; he
had a future hope of success to be won in the
election of Greeley; and he had every ambition to have no scandal that would injure
him or his family, or injure any one; no
inducement to promulgate the scandal; and
he says he separated from  the Woodhulls
about that time.  If he did, it is clear he
separated from them on account of political
reasons, and in the hope of having political
promotion.  You have seen, gentlemen, by
64
WOODHULL SCANDALL. 
A PERSONAL EXPLANATION.
she should not say.  There was no question
suggested and no answer suggested at all,
and I never so told the plaintiff, the fact being,
gentlemen, that on the sixth, I think it was,
of July, knowledge came to me, quite late in
the evening, that Mrs. Tilton was at the
house of a mutual friend of herself and her
husband, in Hicks street, desiring to communicate with some of the Church authorities of
Plymouth Church, and  I was requested to
see her and have an interview with her to
see whether  she desired to go before  the
Committee.   I called at that house, and I
was informed that she had gone to consult her
stepfather as to her duty.  I did not see her
then, but it was thought she would be back
in an hour, or half an hour, or something
like that, and I called again at the time that
I supposed she was to come; and she came
in with her stepfather, Judge Morse, and he
introduced Mrs. Tilton to myself in the pres ence of two other parties.
It was then, I think, so dqrk that I could
not see her face in the room where we were.
We talked a few moments as to whether she
wanted to go before the Committee or not,
and before determining the question she went
and had a private consultation with her stepfather, and returned and said to me she desired to see the Committee.  Her stepfather
left immediately, and I left to see the Committee, to see if they would come to where
she was to hear her statement.  I went to
the Committee, and was gone perhaps ten or
fifteen minutes, and the Committee returned.
Mrs. Tilton had stepped down to the diningroom for a cup of tea, and I stepped down there
to inform her that the Committee were ready
in the parlor above to hear her.  The lady
of the house was present.
The only words that passed between Mrs.
ETilton and myself on that occasion were
substantially as follows.  In  the presence
of  this lady,  I said:  "Mrs.  Tilton,  if
any questions are asked you this evening
which under other circumstances you might
consider indelicate or improper, I beg you to
believe that they are not so intended.  The
Csamittee will undoubtedly    question  you,
and they may inquire into something that
under ordinary circumstances you might con sider indelicate." She made answer that she
should not be offended by any questions they
saw fit to ask her, and went immediately into
the presence of the Committee, and proceeded
to make her statement. I was not gone two
minutes from the parlor until Mrs, Tilton
was seated in the presence of that Committee
making her statement before them, and she
proceeded at once without questions, and
there were but very few questions asked Mrs.
Tilton by the Committee or myself that
evening.   Her statement generally was a
narrative of her relations with her husband
and famnily affairs. Now, I never qtold.the
Now,  g       entl e   men, w             he have  reached a stage
of this case, where, for reasons obvious, I
suppose to you, and entirely so to me, my
name h as been  dr agged      into   this investigatio n,          and it has been introduced in a way, by
the plaitntiff  and his counsel,         and  his  main
witness,      tha  t l eads me t   o            make you a personal          sta tement  of my rela tions to this investig ati on and to this scandal, from            t he beginn                   ing to the end  of it, so far as they have
c          onnected me with it.  I shall                 not follow  necessarily the    order  of time, but I      shall beg in
at the most recent date and go back.
I         shall endeav or, g entle men, to state no
f      act in            w hat I am  about to say  which will
no      t  be made plain           to you  by evidence which
we shall introduce, o r wh ich, wit h  the comwments               that I make upon the facts already
proved, will not be sufficiently plain to you
without further evidence. If some of the
f acts               to which I     am about to refer are material to this case, then, of course, we shall
prove them by witnesses; but if the plaintiff
in this case has dragged in matters that are
not material, for the purpose of connecting
my name with this investigation, I take it
that I have a right to make a personal explanation of those facts, although when we
offer the evidence in the case, he might probably object to it on the ground that it is not
material. We may differ on that question.
I certainly confess myself surprised to learn
that what transpired, or is said to have transpired, between myself and the plaintiffs wife
at a time prior to her appearance before the
Investigating Committee, is a matter at all
material to the issue in this case, and yet that
has been introduced by the plaintiff for the
purpose of casting an imputation upon me
and connecting my name with this investiga
tion as controlling the plaintiff's wife in her
action before the Investigating Committee.
If I heard correctly the evidence of the plaintiff touching that matter, he says that I told
him that I prepared every question and answer
before she apneared before that Committee.
Now, gentlemen, we shall show you, in
answer to that allegation, that I saw the
plaintiff's wife for the first time in my life to
speak with her or to hear her speak —possibly
I had seen her in the street before-but I saw
her probably for the first time in my life about
thirty or forty minutes before she was in the
presence cf that Committee, making her
statement.  I was introduced to her by her
stepfather, Judge Morse, one of the most
reputable men in this city. about thirty or
forty minutes before she was before the Committee.  I had  no conversation with that
woman, except in his presence and the presernce of two or three witnesses. There never
was a word passed between us as to what she
should say before that Committee or what
5.
65
.8 PERSONAL EXPLANATION. 
OPENING FQR THE DEFENSE.
plaintiff that I prepared every question and
answer for this lady.  I was not so disposed,
and I never had any opportunity to do it, if
I had been so disposed.  It was an unnecessary reflection, it seems to me, for him to
cast upon his wife.   No such thing ever
occurred.
Another effort has been made, gentlemen,
to show you that I have been guilty of unprofessional conduct in some way in counection with this case in my relations to this
plaintiff; and it is necessary for me to refer
to the evidence already given upon the subject and then to state to you the facts as I
understand them.
It is true that some time after the Woodhull publication-how long I don't know, but
I should fix the time in either tbe last of
November or the first of December-Mr.
Woodruff inquired of me if I would consent
to hear a statement of the facts co ncer              ning
that publication, to see what answer could be
made to it.   He said many people were saying that Mr. Moulton, his partner, ought to
make some statement.   I say here that at
this time it was well known to Mr. Woodruff,
and to everybody who knew my sentiments
on that subject, that I was the friend of Mr.
Beec(-her in this affair, not his counsel, for li h e
had employed none, arbd I had no relations
to Mr. Beecher at that time which would
have led him to select me as such. Although
a member of his congregation, attending
church there for a few years previous, I had
never taken any prominent part at all in the
affairs of the society and was not a member
of the Church, nor was any memher of my
family, and I knew but very few people in
the Church.   I knew Mr. Beecher only as
hundreds and thousands of others of 6Vs congregation know him, never having spoken
with him, I think, over three or four times
in my  life prior to the publication of the
Woodhull scandal.  But I had been very outspoken to Mr. Woodruff in regard to this
publication after it was made, and particularly
in regard to Mr. Moulton's position towards
it.  Mr. Moulton was a stranger to me; Mr.
Woodruff was well known to me.   The understanding was distinctly stated that the
employment  was  not professional, but  a
friendly consultation of me  as a friend of
Mr. Beecher, and as a friend of their firm, if
I would consent to be consulted and look
into the facts to see what answer, if any,
could be made to that publication.   It was
distinctly understood that there was to be no
compensation for that service.   I said, cer tainly I would; if I could be of service to
Mr. Beecher, or to them, in the matter, I
should willingly give my time to do so. The
next morning, or a few mornings after that,
possibly the next morning, he came around
with Mr. Moulton and introduced Mr. Moul ton to me; it was the first time I had ever
seen him. Of course, gentlemen,  it wa s in the
hurry of business, in the  morninw hours  of
the day, and the conversation that occurred
there was entirely general.   The Woodhull
publication was not there. I had learned
from Mr. Woodruff before, or I had heard in
the street-it was well understood, any way —
that Mr. Moulton had certain papers in his
possession that it would be necessary to see
and consult before any one could determine
what answer could be made to the Woodhull
publication. The conversation, I say, was entirely general at that interview. There was
no descending into particulars, for the obvious reason that the Woodhull publication itsqlf was not present, and none of these papers were present, and therefore it would be
idle to spend the time to consider the question of what could or could not be done.
Well, my recollection is not specific as to that
conversation in the morning, as it would not
be as to any conversation occurring in the ordinary way in the morning hours at my offiee. I know generally that the object and
purpose of that interview was to introduce
Mr. Moulton to mvself, and to appoint an interview where the papers should be present,
and the whole question could be considered.
Such an interview was appointed, and it
took place at Mr. Moulton's study.   There
were present, as I recollect it, Mr. Moulton,
Mr. Tilton, Mr. Woodruff, and myself. Two
conversations have been alluded to by the
plaintiff in his evidence. I remember but
one. As I recollect the conversation, I went
(own to the house of Mr. Moulton on Sunday,
right after my Sunday dinner, which brought
me there not far from three o'clock. I do
not remember Mr. Tilton's being present
when we entered the house, or went into the
study; I know he didn't go into the study
with us or] that occasion. We went into Mr.
Moulton's study, and the papers were produced.   The first paper presented to me was
the important paper in the case, and that is
what was then known as the apology, which
is now called the letter of contrition.    I
mean the paper of January 1st, 1871.  The
Woodhull's publication was present, and of
course I had a general knowledge of the
main features of that publication. Teat let ter was examined by myself. I remember
reading it and I remember what I said about
it. Then the retraction was produced, and
the explanation of the retraction was pro duced.   Those were the only three papera
which Moulton exhibited to me on that oc casion that have been introduced in evidence
here. Another paper, which was of very lit tle importance, but connected with the case,
was shown mne at a later period of the con versationi. Well now, gentlemen, there oc curred at that interview just what men fami liar with business would expect to have
occurred in this respect. The object of' the
66
i
T
I
I 
A PERSONAL EXPLANATION.
that manuscript, turned to me and said in
substance, "Mr. Tracy, I don't know what
the etiquette of your profession permits; if I
give you a statement of  my  case against
Henry Ward Beecher, and he and I should
afterwards come into collision, in that case
would the etiquette of your profession per mit you to be counsel for Henry Ward
Beecher?"  I did say to Mr.  Tilton, as I
remember it, without discussing what the
etiquette of my  profession would or would
not permit, that if I consented  to receive a
statement from a man who had a controversy
with another, and    they should come into col lision on that case afterward, I should not fee]
at liberty to become counsel for the other
party.
And thereupon he proceeded to read to me
a statement or manuscript which, as I re member it, was substantially the "']Prue
Story," so far as it has been produced here.
It was not a clean copy, as he says, of the
"True Story," for I well remember, as he
read it to me, it was interlined and elased
and supplemented in various ways. It looked
like a draft upon which he had beem bestow.
ing much labor. The only faet, the only
paper which was communicated to me, as I
remember it, which I had not before heard,
and received from Mr. Moulton, was a letter or
paper purporting to be from his wife, sinmilal
in language and statement to that now intro duced here as her letter to Dr. Storrs, al though that paper did not purport to be
a letter to Dr. Storrs. It contained the charge
against Henry Ward Beecher of improper
proposals. That is the only fact that was
communicated to me, touching his relations
with Henry Ward Beecher, that I had not
known before, and learned from Moulton, as
I remember it. That document then proceeded after this statement to quote what is
now called " the letter of contrition," but
until recently called the "apology," the
paper of January 1st, as proof of the truth of
the allegation which Mrs. Tilton made against
Mr. Beecher.  Now, it is quite true, gentlemen, undoubtedly, as Mr. Tilton says, that
after he had made his statement to me, or
talked with me, I did take this "apology,"
or II letter of contrition," and examine it. I
undoubtedly did that, because I had looked
at it in the first instance with reference to
the Woodhull scandal, which charged a life
of adultery between these parties as of ten
years' duration; that was the charge of the
Woodhull scandal,,and I had examined it
with reference to that charge. But when
Mr. Tilton presented the case of improper
proposals and not of adultery. I did, I have
no doubt, take up that paper, and look at it
again very carefully to see how it compared
with anid supported or co,ntradicted the charge
which he made of improper proposals. Therefore it is quite likely, as Mr. Tilton states,
in      terview  being   to  se e what  answer c ou ld b e
made to the Wo odhu ll sca ndal, the Wood hull scandal was  taken up           with reference to
these papers, and gone over paragraph by
paragraph.
The first th   ing                that I  asked Moulton about,
of course,          was t he p istol  scene  as d escribed in
the Woodhull publication. That has been
read to you once or twice. It represents
Mr. Moulton as going with a pistol and ob taini     in this     retraction from  Henry  Ward
Beecher            under          the threat of death.  I asked
him if that was t       ru  e         and  he   told me no, as
he  h as    tol  d you  here, it was not                t rue. Then
t        he  only o ther place in which his name was
connect ed with  it was where he is represented
as going into  the pre                       sence of Henry Ward
Beecher  and w    ith Mrs. W oodhull      an d  Mrs.
Tilton urging Mr. Beeche     r       to presid e  at the
Steinway Hall meeting,  an        d where Mr. Tilt on
is represented as having made a particular
speech to dMr. Beecher  on    that oc casion, set ting f or         th reasons           why he should preside at
that meeting.   I               asked Ml. Moulton if that
was  true, and        he sa id it was not; no such
th         ing ever occurred —as       he has sworn to you
that                    no such thing ever occurred.  He said
tha            t he had not given MHrs. Woodhull the
information or an     y  p art  of     the       i nformation
there published; he denied having communicated to her the facts; he denied having  been      an act  o r        in the scenes where                             t he
was  repres       ented as          being  an actor. Now, my
recollection is    that after t   he paper    had been
looked over, a question was asked as to what
iMr. Tilton        had to say about this, and                what
the foundation of the story was, if there was
an    y, an d  my  recollection       of iJt is    that Moulton
said he preferr ed that I           should   hea r  that
fro                      m Mr. Tilton. At  all events, I remember
that Mr.   Tilton  was  not in the room                 at the
timte.  I  know         he c a       me in to the room soon
after. Whether           h e wa s i n     the house when I
went there    and w      as waiting to be summoned
t     o       the  study, I  d    o not             remember.  He may
have be          en sent for after I        went there, or he
may have                  been notified     that   there was to be
a me eti ng an         d hav          c e ome  around late, and
Mr. Moulton  expecting him, may have gone
down. and found him  in the lower        room s         and
brought him u           p.   I remember he came in*
the room af ter     the pap ers had been shown to
me,         and aft er Moul ton  and I had had  considerable talk  on the subject of the Woodhull
scandal. I didn't know when the interview
was appointed that Mr. Tilton was to be
present. His presence there was a surprise to
me. Of course, when I was asked if I had
any objection to seeing him or hearing a
statement from him, I had none at all, and I
said I hadn't. He was brought up into the
room, and he brought with him considerable
manuscript, rolled, as I remember, in black
leather.
He sat down, and before he began to read
67 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
what he could deny it.  He has sworn to youtt
on  the stand that he could deny it.  Why
could not Tilton deny it? He could not; as
he argued then, as he subsequently said in
his letter to a II complaining friend," which
has been introduced here-he could not deny
the Woodhull scandal, because while that
story itself was false, there was a true story
that it did not tell; and he insisted that he
could not deny the Woodhull scandal as such
without at the same  time telling the true
story.  In other words, if he denied the false
story he could only do it by telling the true
one, and he went into that sort of reasoning
which he sets out in the letter to the " compltaining friend;" and referred to The Police
Gazette as an illustration, just as he does in that
letter to show that where there is any truth
lying at the bottom of the story, a man could
not deny the story without telling the other
story that was true. I argued against that.
I said: "The story, as you now tell it, of
improper proposals, is not alluded to at all in
this Woodhull publication.  The story that
they tell, you say, is false, and inasmuch as
they don't allude to the story that you now
tell, you are at liberty, it seems to me, to
deny the Woodhull publication without saying anything about the " true story." Now,
if there was anything said about lying at
that interview, it was the discussion of the
question  wh e t    her it would be a lie for a man
to say that a story which is told as a single
story, which is substantially untrue-whether
for him to say that that story was a lie
would be asserting the truth, provided there
was another transaction not alluded to in it,,
but connected with it, as between the same
parties, that was true. He said, " No, Icannot contradict the false story, unless I at
the same time tell the true one;" and the
discussion was a long one, and even became
warm at times; and it continued until ten or
eleven o'clock in the evening.-but that was
the result.
They tell you that I said silence was the
one course to take. Nevertheless, gentlemen,
it Bust be manifest to you from their ownstatements, that I did not say that silence
was the only course in this matter, except
upon the theory that Tilton put forward, that
he could not deny the Woodhull scandal
without publishing what he called the "True
Story," or the truth, in which he proceeded,
while exonerating his wife, to put Mr. Beecher
in the position of having assailed her virtue:
After arguing and failing to convince Tilton.
that he could deny truthfully the Woodhull
story without telling the other, and he making it a condition that he would make no
answer to the Woodhull story except the one
that exonerated his wife and charged Mr.
Bee(,her with soliciting her to crime, I undoubtedly did say, as a choice between that
and silence, that silence was the only thing;.
that I did hate in my hands and' did go over
this letter of apology after he came into the
room, and that may account for Mr. Woodruff's remembering that we had that letter
there after Mr. Tilton came into the room.
We undoubtedly did.
The statement of improper proposals or
the statement to me having been read, the
discussion between us commenced.  Now, Mr.
Tilton states to you that he read me that
" True  Story" as  final ly comple ted, as  I       underst and  hi      m  to                say, late in December or
the 1st of January. But, gentle                             men, I am
very confident  th at t hat  paper,  as pres ented
here as a   final paper, was never shown to me
in the world; th at is  to say,  I       never saw           or
heard of the letters of Mrs. T'ilton  an d  of Mr.
B eecher,  date                 d December 29th, 1872,      denying
this charge. I        s     aw        n e ither of        these papers
in  th       e win ter of 1872  an d 1873; I never  saw
Mr. Beecher's  until, w he n           the investigation
was going on, he  turned over  to m       e        some of
his papers, and among them was this one. As
I remember it that is the first I ever saw of that
letter.     I  n ever saw  Mrs. Tiltonh's        l etter until
I re-,d it                          i n the publication of Mr. Moulton or
Mr. Tilton                 himself.   I thin k it was Mr.
M      oulton.   So I know that the   " True  Story,"
as a comple ted            paper,                    was never shown to me
at all.
I hav e ransacked  the        chambers  of my
memory sinc       e      this  thing has be      en up, and I
can rcaoall  no two conversations at Moultonh's
house  where the subject of this                           scandal was
conversed about  between Tilton, Md oulton and
an           d myself, three of us together, and another
wher e  Woodruff  was present          as a fourth.
Of c ourse, I c   ann    ot aff irm     positi    vely that no
conversation to ok place, but           I do  a    ffirm-do
say that,                   ththe  best of my recollection, there
was  but   o     ne  c     onversation.  I                  am certain that
the f    ir      st time I ever saw Mr. Tilton on  this
subject, what I have repeated in regard to
his questioning me an d m     y       answer, and  his
pro ceed         i ng to state the                   charge against  Mr.
Beeche as I have detailed it now, took place.
Well, then the question'came up as to what
denial could be made of the Woodhull charge.
We went over it item by item, and Mr. Tilton
denied s      ubstantiall y  the truth of   the Woodhull   publication in every    import an t particular;
that is to  s      ay, taking up on                  ie, ne view,   one scene
after another-'" Mr. Tilton, did you give this
information to Mrs. Woodhull?" " No." In
substance he denied having been the author
of that information or any of that information to Mrs. Woodhull as he denies it here.
So he denied scene after scene. " Did such a
scene occur, or such a scene occur?" " No."
" Then," I said,n  "I don't see why you cannot deny this, and I don't see why you and
Mr. Moulton cannot deny it." Mr. Moulton
admitted that he could deny it so far as the
Woodhull publication represented him as an
actor in the scene. There was no doubt but
68
i 
A PERSONAL EXPLANATION.
because I regarded, as every man must re-  read of Dr. Bacon's letters in The Indepen gard, the charge against a minister of solicit-  dent, or his address at New Haven, and I did
ing a woman,  as serious a charge as that of  not know, and had not heard, that any such
the actual accomplishment of the act.   And  publication was contemplated.  I remember
I did not suppose that it would mitigate the  that the conversation between Mr. Moulton
alleged offense at all to deny the fact of  and myself regarding Mr. Tilton's conduct
adultery, and to publish at the same time  was pretty excited that night; but he insisted
the assertion of an attempt to consummate  that that letter did not foreclose the possibil it.  Now, so far as that was concerned, I  ity of a settlement and adjustment, and he
undoubtedly did say that, as between the  had a written abstract of a letter already
two things, silence was the only thing to do;  prepared, which he proceeded to read to me.
but in no other event than that; because  But I was in no condition  to be convinced
both of these parties conceded the statement  that night, and went away, he requesting to
of facts which, I argued, enabled them both  see me again.  Mr. Moulton said to me that
truthfully to deny the Woodhull publication  if anything was to be done about it he was
as such.  They could deny it without lying in  determined that Mr.  Shearman should be
fact.  I argued, as far as Moulton was con-  kept out of the case; that he thought that
cerned, I remember, that to omit to deny it  Mr. Beecher would do anything in a settle was to lie, because a man who sat silent under  ment that he and I concurred in advising,
a falsehood, and did not deny it when it was  and he had sent for me for that purpose.  I
his duty to deny it, was morally guilty of  had been since 1872-although not in connec a falsehood.                                   tion with this case, gentlemen-much with
But we failed to agree; and it was very  Mr. Moulton, because I had been the counsel
evident, I think, to all of the parties there,  of -that firm in their difficulty with the Gov that Tilton and Moulton and I could not get  ernment, and it bad brought me in connee on together with this scandal business; we  tion with Mr.  Moulton very much; I had
differed so widely, that my  recollection is  seen much of him.  I assume that he inferred
that we never met again. Certainly we never  that he could talk with me more confidentially
met except incidentally, or possibly to talk  than he cared to talk to Mr. Shearman, be over some question connected with it; but  cause their relations were unpleasant.   He
if we ever did I do not remember it.  My  said he must have some one with whom he
recollection is that that is the first and last  could converse confidentially, and, therefore,
meeting that had ever occurred between us.  he wanted me to come into the case.  My in I know our differences were very radical; and  troduction into the case, therefore, was as the
I had no expectation when I left that house  friend of Henry Ward Beecher, in June, 1874,
that I should ever be consulted  again by  at the instance of Mr. Moulton, on the theory
by those parties on that subject, and I never  that I could aid him  as the friend of Mr.
was, to my recollection.  I stepped down and  Beecher, and one whom  Mr. Beecher would
out of the case after December, 1872.         trust in bringing about an adjustment of this
I saw Mr. Beecher at Mr.Moulton's request  difficulty, which he said he desired very much
once after that meeting, and but once I think.  to accomplish.
The only way I can fix the date definitely is    I saw him afterwards, when he talked to
that I know I saw him at his house once on  me about this card which it was proposed
the subject, and had an incidental conver-  that Mr. Beecher should sign, the one stating
sation with him on the letting of the pews at  that he had committed an offense against
his church in January, 1873. We talked five  Mr. Tilton, but no crime; and I suppose I
minutes, perhaps, in w'hich we alluded to this  am  the counsel alluded to in the opening
subject incidentally, and it is the last time  as the one who said it would not do for
that I ever alluded to this matter with Mr.  Mr. Beecher to sign that card, for I would
Beecher, until a long time after.             not approve of it.  I certainly did tell Mr.
I considered myself out of the case, and was  Moulton when we got into consultation that
out of it from that time, December, 1872,  I could not recommend  Mr. Beecher to sign
until after the publication of the Bacon letter.  that card, and should not.  He thought I
On the night of that publication I was sent  was mistaken, and attempted to convince me
for by Mr. Moulton to come to his house,  that I was; but he and I always differed on
and I went to his house and found Mr. Tilton  that subject, and we parted company on that
and Frank Carpenter in the dining-room.  card.
Mr. Moulton took me to an upper room, and        Now, that is the history of my connection,
then introduced to me the subject of this  in short, gentlemen, with this scandal and
Bacon letter, and said to me-after reading  with these parties.  After the publication of
it to me-that he wanted me again to come  the Bacon letter, and after my interview with
into the case.  I was very much excited and  Mr. Moulton, I published an interview in
outraged at that publication. It took me al- The Brooklyn Union, giving my understandtogether by surprise, for I had been so en-  ing of this case. in which I stated the case as
tirely out of it, that I had not even known or  I had received k from Mr. Tilton in'72, as a
69 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
mitted this question to some half-dozen of
the most eminent lawyers in this city and
New  York, before I consented to appear
in the case at all, and they agreed with me
on the state of the facts that there was not
any doubt about it.  As I infer, the  counsel
would agree, on my  statement of the facts,
that there is not any doubt about it.  And
before I appeared in this case I caused  the
same question to be submitted to my eminent
associates, Mr. Evarts and Judge Porter, and
they agreed that there was no doubt of my
right to appear here without any question as
to professional propriety.
I say that Mr. Tilton stated that and admitted the fact last summer.  There is no
doubt about it; but the position he took
was, that  "conceding that, it don't absolve
you from your promise." I said it did. That
is the issue, as I understand it, between Mr.
Tilton and myself.
Now,  gentlemen, I undertake to say that
I never understood Theodore  Tilton, anywhere, to cast any imputation against his
wife as having been guilty of adultery at any
time prior to the institution of the Investigating Committee in 1874.  The interview
published in the Union during the summer of
1874, immediately after the publication of
the Bacon letter, gave my  understanding of
this case precisely as I had derived it from
Mr. Tilton.  I had a conversation with Mr.
ETilton the day after its publication, and he
did not question the accuracy of that interview, or the statement of it. The only criticism he made on it was this: "You make
me merely a martinet of jealousy.   You  say
that the charge was improper proposals, and
then you say that Mr. Beecher and my wife both
concur in denying that there is any truth in
that.  That don't leave me any case at all
against Mr. Beecher," and he said: "You
array my wife against me there, by saying
that she denies the truth of that allegation."
And he criticised my taste and judgment in
permitting the publication of that interview
without seeing and conferring with him, aind
in arraying his wife against him by saying
that she denied the truth of the charge of
improper proposals.  Now,  gentlemen,- that
is the history, in brief, of my connection with
this scandal, as I understood it. I think that
professionally I shall be entirely justified by
every lawyer, certainly, who agrees with me
on the facts: and as to these, I have Mr. Tilton's admission, distinctly made.
charge of improper    proposals. Mr. Tilton
called  to     see me   th e        next  day after that public      t                                        a    e d            t    oneation, and we had a long conversation on
the subject of my  publication                 in The Union,
and        the way I stated the    case,  the detai ls of
which, perhaps, it is not necessary to go into
here.
The    controversy  went on until this committep   t e        was appointed.  Whe n the time was
approaching that I saw, or thought I saw, a
tendency in Mr. Ti lton  to change his  ground
aga inst Mr. Beecher,    and instead of charging
an improper proposal,  to make    a charge  of
adultery-as soon as I saw that, I sought Mr.
Tilton and  said to him:  "         Mr. Tilton, when
you presented to me your case with Mr.
Beeche r         at M r. Moulton's        h     ouse in 1872, you
asked me a certain question, and I made  the
an sw         er  t ha             t I    should not be Mr. Beecher's
counsel if you came in collision with him on
the case that you stated to me. Now," I
said, " as long as you adhere to the case, Mr.
Tilton, as there presented, I shall adhere to
my promise; but if you ever change your
cause of action against Mr. Beecher, and say
to me that the story you told me on that occasion is not true, and that your cause of
action against Mr. Beecher is an entirely different one from what you then presented, I
give you notice that I shall consider myself
at liberty-I shall not consider myself bound
by the promise I then made you." Now, or,
that question, gentlemen, which involves my
professional standing, there is no dispute of
facts between Mr. Tilton and myself, the
only difference is one of judgment and discretion on that question, whether. he, having
stated to me one case against Henry Ward
Beecher, and obtained fiom me a promise
not to be his counsel, binds me not to be the
counsel of Henry Ward Beecher when he
brings an entirely different case against him.
Now, on that question, I say, there is no dispute of facts.
I do not undertake to state what Theodore
Tilton will say about it now; but I undertake
to state what he did say about it in the summer of 1874, when the question was up between us, because in the presence of a halfdozen men he brought this allegation against
me, as he does now, and said, " You agreed
at a certain time that if I ever came into collision with Henry Ward Beecher you would
not be his counsel." My reply to him was
precisely what I have made to you to-day,
and his reply to me was, "That does not release you from your promise." I said, " Mr.
Tilton, that is a question of judgment. I
hold that it does. You are at liberty to think
that it does not, but I gave you notice beforehand that I should consider myself absolved,
and I do consider myself absolved from all
obligation under that promise." Now, gentlemen, on that question, as I say, I have
taken careful pains to be right. I have sub
,to
i
MONDAY, MARCH 1, 1875.
FORTIETH DAY.
Ma?./ it plea8e the, Court, Gentlemen oj the
Jury. When we closed on Friday night last,
gentleen, we had reached what is now
known in this case as the period of the publi 
THE POLICY OF SILENC]B.
cation of the Woodhull scandal.   We have
shown you that after that publication, Mr.
Beecher, following the advice and judgmentthe honest judgment, as he then supposedof the " Mutual Friend," Francis D. Moulton,
accepted the policy of silence, and that policy
was accepted by all, in the supposition and
belief, on the part of my client, that it was to
be executed by all in good faith.
ing should ever be said concerning Mr Beecher's demonstration  towards  Mrs. Tilton."
Here the charge was made, but on the express
condition that it should be suppressed, and
should not enter into the conflict which he
and Bowen were about to inaugurate.   Gentlemen, that fact is susceptible of the clearest proof by the plaintits own testimony.
Set on by Bowen,  Tilton wrote and sent
that insolent demand that Mr. Beecher
should quit the pulpit and leave Brooklyn.
Tilton says Bowen assigned as a reason why
he could not sign the letter with him, that
he had just settled all his difficulties with
Mr.  Beecher-but promised, if Tilton would
make the attack, he would assume and carry
on the fight. He bore the letter to Mr.Beecher;
and then, in the twinkling of an eye, Bowen
slipped through Tilton's fingers like an eel.
Two days after signing the letter Tilton
found him an enemy instead of a friend.   I
repeat again, gentlemen, that what I say
concerning the intercourse between these two
men  I base exclusively on the statement of
the plaintiff in th is cou rt as a witness.    I repeat again that I unwillingly condemn any
man on the statement of this plaintiff concerning any fact; but this is a fact that has
been published for years, and I believe has
never yet been denied by Mr. Bowen. Thus
deserted by Bowen, liable himself to be assailed by Mr. Beecher, and threatened with
dismissal from both his papers, Tilton's ruin
seemed inevitable unless he could suppress
the publication of his letters and repress the
indignation of Beecher which that letter had
aroused.
For this purpose we have seen how like a
coward he attempted to interpose the body
of a sick and suffering wife between
himself and the man he had so grosslv outraged, and how this attempt only
plunged him into new disasters, render ing further efforts. at suppression imperative, since it ended in Mr. Beecher's obtaining from Mrs. Tilton her written declaration
that the charges made against him by her
husband not only were false, but had been
coerced from her while on a bed of sickness.
How anxious Mr. Tilton and his friend Mr.
Moulton were to suppress the wife's retraction, we have already seen.   If Mr. Beecher
would only consent to its suppression they
would destroy both the retraction and the accusation, or they would keep both together,
so that one should never appear without tile
other.
Thus far the policy of silence and suppression had been the policy of the plaintiff.
The retraction was surrendered upon the distinct assurance of both Mr. and Mrs. Tilton,
that the whole matter from which it had
arisen should be suppressed, and suppressed
forever.
Mr. Beechev did not make ibut he accepted,
The defendant has been widely criticized
for the policy of silence which was adopted
and long pursued in reference to this scandal.
The fact that the defendant assented to this
policy and adhered to it for several years, has
been and now is the very corner-stone of th. is
prosecution.   The most of your time has
been occupied with evidence tending to prove
this fact-a fact never denied, but always admitted.  But this policy did not originate
with Mr. Beecher.  If we are to believe the
plaintiff, the policv of silence and suppression
had been adopted by himself long before
Moulton bore to Mr. Beecher the message
which brought about the memorable interview
on the night of December 30.  Tilton now asserts that he then knew, and had known
since the preceding July, everything he now
knows.  Yet he had maintained a silence and
effected a suppression so complete that the
knowledge which he professes to have had of
the facts had never come to the ears of Mr.
Beecher.  For it is conceded by all the parties
that, down to the evening of that interview,
Mr. Beecher did not know that he was in any
wise involved in Tilton's domestic difficulties,
except that he had concurred with his wife
in advising Mrs. Tilton to separate from her
husband, and had repeated to Mr.  Bowen
stories affecting Mr. Tilton's character in respect to marital fidelity.  The object of that
interview was to inform Mr. Beecher of a fact
which Tilton says had hitherto been kept from
him.  Not only from Mr. Beecher had the
knowledge of that fact been kept, but also
from the friends of the family.  Moulton,
who visited the house frequently, had never
observed the slightest alienation; Mrs. Bradshaw, the most intimate friend of both husband and wife, had seen nothing.  So, if this
fact, which Tilton now pretends, ever existed,
he had suppressed it most absolutely. Surelyv
thus far the policy had been a success.
But in December, 1870, as we have seen,
business difficulties arose between Tilton and
Bowen, which, to again repeat Mr. Tilton's
own words, "were augumented by Mr. and
Mrs. Beecher."  At the interview in Bowen's
house on Dec. 26th, Tilton for the first time
departed  from his  policy of silence, and
charged Beecher with having made a dishonorable proposal to his wife, but did it under
"a special pledge mutually given, that noth
71
THE POLICY OF SILENCE. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
the proposition.  When  the accuser offered
to suppress the charges, the accused had no
alternative but either to consent, or else to
publish, himself, the fact that he had been
falsely accused by a woman and her husband.
Such an act                  is expected of no  man; such
an act Mr. Beecher could not commit without destroying her who had been his friend,
and who, on a bed of sickness, with uplifted
hands had calledon God to witness that she
was not morally responsible for the contents
of that paper.   Here the policy of silence
and suppression was united in by all the
parties; but it was assented to on the part
of the defendant, and not suggested by him.
The next day Moulton comes again as a
messenger of peace and reconciliation, and carries away with him the paper which they now
call the letter of contrition. This he took from
the defendant to the plaintiff, not as a weapon
of war, but as an emblem of peace and fraternal feeling. And on February 7th, Moulton
finding that Mrs. Tilton was not so completely reconciled as he desired she should be, he,
and not the defendant, suggested the correspondence bearing date on that day, in order
to establish a more perfect peace, and to
make the suppression of this difficulty doubly
sure.  The only criticism to which the defendant is liable in this respect is, that having assented to the policy of silence at the
instance of the plaintiff, he accepted it in
good faith and honestly endeavored to carry
it out.
This policy                            was thus inaugurated on the
night of December 31st, to save the plaintiff
from a ruin which the defendant could have
certainly effected had he been disposed to
press the advantage he then possessed.
But the difficulty between him and Mr.
Beecher was not the only one Tilton and his
friend Moulton desired to bury at this time.
Tilton was covered all over with foul scandals, which demanded suppression.   There
were the stories which had reached Bowen's
ears, which Tilton needed to have stifled,
and to stifle which had been the object of the
meeting at Bowen's house on the 26th of
Detember.  That meeting, at first-pparently
successful, had afterwards resulted in signal
failure.   Then there were the ugly scandals,
which had come to Mr. Beecher, which he,
giving credit to them, had repeated to
Bowen on December 27th, when the latter
bore to him  Tilton's audacious demand.
There was the hideous story which Bessie
Turner had communicated to Mr. Beecher,
Mrs. Morse and others, of the manner in
which Tilton had lifted her from her bed at
night and carried her to his own, and how,
upon anoth r occasion, he had again attempted the virtue of this poor child, who had
been adopted and cared for by his largehearted and benevolent wife. And more
than  all, there was  need to keep from    public
knowledge the  fact   that his wife had s eparated from him  and had threat e ned to leave
him forever   becaus e of his  infidelitie s  and
the  many  cruelties  that she bad su ffer e d at
his hands.  If Theodore Tilton  w as to be resurrec ted from the  s epu lchre of inoamy and
again set upon  h is  feet,  all  the scandals must
be  s uppre sse ad a nd k ep t   from the knowledge
of the world.
You will see, gentlemen, that this was
a task requiring for its performance a man
possessing every character isti c   whi ch Tilton
tells us guided  him in  the selection of  his
friend.  To accomplish the part, it was necessary to possess " loyalty to  his  employer,  a
genius of administratio n, and great  cour age of
th o ught  and actio n."   I quote  Tiltonh's description of Moulton, given  from the witness
stand.  All these, Tilton say s,  Moulton possessed  in a n e m inent  deg  ree. Un dismayed by
the extent and variety of the   evil s tories that
had  gathered over Tilton, the admin is trative
genius commenced     at   once with wonderful
subtlety and  patience  the w ork of suppressing
them. First, Mrs. Tilton was persuaded not
only to deny the story that she had desired to
separate from her husband, but to pronounce
it a falsehood, coined by the brain of her poor
mother. So this story was for the time being
suppressed, and so thoroughly congenial to
the new master-operator was the business of
suppression, that even this denial was  w thheld from the knowledge of Mr. Beecher.
Then Mr. Beecher was assured by the
"Mutual Friend"  that a story he had repeated to Bowen concerning Tilton's relations
with a lady not his wife was unfounded; and
he was induced to retract it. So that story
was silenced. Then Bessie Turner was made
to sign a retraction of her story, and this was
delivered into Moulton's hands as a means of
suppression, after which the girl was sent
away to prevent her prattling-and so she
was for the time being suppressed.
The last and hardest task remained: to g-oJ
a retraction from Bowen.   From him  they
sought to obtain not onlv an indorsement of
Tilton's character, but also the payment of
money-a hard thing to get from Bowen.
Success was achieved only by fifteen months
of persistent and laborious endeavor. A lawsuit was begun; but a law-suit could not
frighten Bowen. It induced him neither to
pay nor to retract. When every legitimate
effort had failed, another method was resorted
to. Tilton prepared a personal statement,
giving what purported to be the history of
his dismissal by Bowen, and containing
the letter written by himself to Bowen, and
dated January 1, 1871, in which he repeated
the slanders which he said Bowen uttered
against Mr. Beecher. This statement was put
ill type at The Golden, Age office, as if intended
ifor publication, and printed slips of it were
72 
HOW THIE POLICY OF SILENCE WAS VIOLATED.
shown to Bowen and to Wilkeson, Mr. Beecher's friend.
They say, gentlemen, that Bowen was not
blackmailed.   I make no comment.  You
have seen that a law-suit did n ot bring             the
money, but the    threat        to publish thi s article
brought both the money                                 a n and a certificate of
char       acter to Tilton published in The Independent.  T    he skill of Moulton was strikingly
sh                  own in his choice of means to obtain indorsements o f character for  h        is friend from
th    e two men whom he had th e  m      ost reason
to fear. Mr. Beecher he controlled by gaining
h       i     s confidence,  and by convincing  him  th   at
the sto ries against Tilton were           false. M r.
Bowen he controll     e     d by argu me   nts of a different character.
But Mrs. Tilton's complain ts of       the treatment t           o          which she was subjected must also
b e suppress   ed. To   this end    she was made to
feel   that s   he wa  s            he  l           s      le       i the only obstacle in  the way
of that  recons      truction        of her household life
f      o r which she longed. In the letters of February 7th, every argument that could move
h      er was broug ht to bear   upon  h er, and at last
Mr. Moulton succeeded  in obtaining from her
a pledge that she would never  remember   herselftonwwu hae e to Theodore's harm-a pledge she too
faithfully ke pt gentleme n, unt il by his  open
and shameless attack upon Mr. Beecher, the
plaintiff drove her forth, a despairing, frighte           ned fugitive, flying as for her life from            the
jaw      s        of hell. Once before her brethren of the
church she ha  s had l  ibe rty t        o speak, but
prior to   that time  he she w   as forbidden; and
now, in the crisis of this horrible struggle,
whi       le   the conflict wages ovr                   er her good  name,
she is          again silenced. Yes, gentlemen,          when
t        he plaintiff found that   the lips  of his innocent wife were unsealed before the tribunal
which h       e   had    accepted.  and that she was    resolved, throwing off the incubus                    of her life,
to speak freely the whole truth, he made
haste to choose a tribunal where the law
would keep her dumb. And so she is suppressed.
Thus the administrative genius of the
"Mutual Friend," inventing and executing
a policy of suppression, had accomplished what
Tilton would never have been able to do.
Tiltou's way would have been to talk and
make " statements," each of which would
have added to his difficulties.   Moulton's
way was to suppress talk, and get other
people to make statements which he could
stow away in his repository of material. If
he had only been able to maintain over
Tilton's malice and folly the same command
which he acquired over Beecher's generosity
and Bowen's self-interest, the first and
primary object of this conspiracy, namely, the
reinstatement of Theodore Tilton in business
and society, might perhaps have been accom-.
plished, and Moulton might have had two
powerful and ready allies in the men he had
reconciled.
But  Tilton whispered to as many  as he
chose his malignant slanders against Mr.
Beecher-the creations of his own obscene
imagination.   So long as Mr. Beecher kept
the secret, Tilton had an excellent chance to
retail his own versions as to what the secret
was.  These versions varied according to his
moods; they agreed in one thing only, hatred
to Mr. Beecher.  While he was in immediate
danger, Moulton was able to keep him comparatively quiet; but when he had procured
his money from Bowen, and suppressed, as he
thought, the stories assailing his own character, he did not see why  the policy of suppression should be rigidly adhered to merely
on his wife's account.
Particularly after the Woodhull publication, and  the substantial  failure of The
GoldenAge, Tilton took a new course towards
Mr. Beecher.  What  he had hitherto circulated in the dark he now began to use as a
direct menace.   With  Mr.  Beecher silence
had been a sacred duty under the circumstances, as he understood them.  To Tilton
and his "Mutual Friend" it was not a duty,
but  a  policy, and they pursued  it just as long
and just as far as their objects required. Tilton's passion and folly, left to themselves,
would soon have overthrown the whole of
their plan; but, under Moulton's skillful
management the scandal was merely kept
alive, so as to torment Mr. Beecher without
provoking an open rupture, or arousing his
suspicions that the conspirators were playing
him false. Mrs. Morse, a lady whose energetic tongue they were powerless to suppress,
was perpetually and falsely put forward as
the malicious source of the wild rumors
which thickened around their unconscious
victim.
This, gentlemen, is the history of the policy of suppression in this case, a policy devised and inaugurated by the plaintiff and
his devoted friend, and pursued by them with
treachery for wicked ends, while it was accepted by the defendant in pursuance of a
chivalric impulse, and maintained by him
with loyalty and fidelity through every trial
and danger to the last.
73
HOW THE POLICY OF SILENCE WAS
VIOL,KTED.
]Elaving shown you, gentlemen, how the
defendant was induced to enter into this policy of silence, and how he has pursued it for
years, in good faith, I now come to show
you how this plaintiff and this 11 Mutual
Friend" treacherously and continuously violated it. We have seen how the failure of
the political campaign of 1872, and the immediate death of Mr. Greeley following upon
the substantial failure of The Colden Age, 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
head of the foreign bureau of that paper, and
by that time the Woodhull scandal will have
died away and will have been forgotten, and
he can come back and take a position upon
the editorial staff of that newspaper."   We
shall show you, gentlemen,  that meetings
were held between the friends of Theodore
Tilton and the friends of Henry Ward Beecher
to consummate that scheme.  We shall show
you that the men who represented Theodore
Tilton said to the friends of Henry Ward
Beecher,  "Unless  something  is done  for
Theodore Tilton, there will be an explosion
here which will shake Christendom."  There
were several meetings.  Not only were  Mr.
Beecher's friends approached in the city of
Brooklyn by the friends of Theodore Tilton,
but they were also approached in the city of
New York.   There were  two meetings at
the Union League Club, where this scheme
was fully canvassed.
But Mr. Beecher's friends, gentlemen, did
not bite at the bait.  Although every inducement was brought  to bear, and although
they were  threatened with  exposure  and
menaced  by  a  scandal,  they  refused  to
enter into the scheme.   More than that,
gentlemen, they denounced  the scheme in
1872 as  blackmailing;  they so denounced
it to Theodore Tilton to his face, in the City
of New York, at the Union League Club.
They told him, then and there, that this
newspaper scheme which he was proposing
was  no  more  nor  less than  an  effort
to blackmail Henry Ward  Beecher and his
friends by threatening the world and Christendom with a scandal, unless it was accepted.
We shall show you, gentlemen, by witnesses
whom you will not doubt; we shall show it
by a man almost as well known in this
country as the defendant himself, standing a
prince among New York merchants, whose
word has never yet been questioned, who
told Theodore Tilton to his face: " You ask
me to subscribe to a fund to buy that paper
as the condition of Henry Ward Beecher
retiring from the pulpit and the suppression
of this scandal-you to be interested in
the paper; I tell you it is blackmail." And
it did not succeed.
blasted the hopes  of Theodor                    e Tilton in that
directi         on,       an d compelled  him  to look for new
avenues of  success.   Up to      this tim e, gentle  m        e     n, the policy which I have      no doubt moved
Moulton and Tilton was mainly the restora  tion of Tilton by this new newspaper enter  prise  which      he had   enter   ed in t               o  in the at  tempted esta blis hment        of The Golden Age.
But  t his  had fa i led.  The  money which he
had     rece i ved  from Bowen in 1872  wa    s           nearly
expended; indeed,                          on December 27, I    am in formed by           the a ccounts, the last money of
Til          ton had been drawn          from Woodruff  &
R obins on.  T     he $7,000     was exh a          u        sted, and
he h        ad no  me ans of future supply.  It was
necessary,  therefore, that  they  should look
around to find some new avenue for the ben efit of Tilton; and, gentlemen, the counsel
for the plaintiff in opening this case called
your  attention to a newspaper scheme             that
was      started ad  talked of in December, 1872.
He  represents it to you as t   he sugg    estion                   of
some one to Mr. Beecher,  that now was the
great time for a newspaper enterprise in New
York, and  he washe  e        man  to he                 art had it. Three
out of  five ed      itors controlling  the g reat daily
morning press of New York had recently
died.  Raymo     nd, t  he youngest     of  them,   and
t      he man perhap    s  h aving t he best c onception
of the true sphere of journalism of all men
who have ever been on the American press,
was the first to depart; Bennett, the ablest
newspaper publisher and editor that we have
ever seen in this country, had also gone; and
now came Greeley, by far the strongest
writer that ever wrote upon the American
morning press.  He had died in the early
days of December. There remained, tben,
only, Dana, of the Sun, and Marble, of the
World, left among the men of established
reputations upon the morning press of New
York city. This scheming gentleman, looking out to provide an avenue for Tilton, suggested that this was an occasion for the starting of a new newspaper in the city of New
York; that now there was no great and overshadowing name upon the morning press in
the city of New York; there was a vacancy,
and Mr. Beecher was the man to fill that
vacancy, and it would be wise and judicious,
under the circumstances, for him and Tilton
to unite in that enterprise.
I thank the counsel for the plaintiff for
calling your attention to this scheme, gentlemen, since I shall not be charged with
having forced it to your attention here. We
shall show you that the friends of Theodore
Tilton approached the friends of Henry Ward
Beecher in December, 1872, with this proposition: " Let us buy The New York Express,"
which was for sale; "let us turn it into a
morning journal; let Henry Ward Beecher
assume the editorship of it, and retire from
Plymouth Church, and let Theodore Tilton
go abroad for three or four years and be the 
74
THE COMPLAINING FRIEND LETIPER.
Another thing, gentlemen, I desire to.
call your attention to in this connection.
These interviews were held in the last days of
December. Remember that Mr. Tilton and
all these parties had just resolved to maintain,
with regard to the Woodhull scandal, a policy
of silence, that this scandal was to remain a
secret, and to be kept a secret. But the
friends of Henry Ward Beeclier held back;
they did not move to - the establishment,
cif this newspaper. And now, I want to,
call your attention to this "Letter to a 
TRICKERY WITH THE GOLDEN AGE ARTICLE
Complaining  Friend," and  ask you  why
it was that this pledge of silence was broken
within a very few days after it was made.
Here is a letter to a "Complaining Friend,"
which is confessedly a fiction.   Theodore
Tilton tells you from the witness stand that
he never received a letter from a "Complaining Friend;" he tells you that he never
wrote a letter to a "Complaining Friend;"'
he tells you it was a fiction invented by him,
to be published  by him, concerning  this
scandal.  Now, why was it?  I will read the
letter, gentlemen:
ments against Mr. Beecher, and thus creat
ing a scandal. And the very suggestion th
they ha d  the  doc ument s wh ich      they woul
not  publi s h, was a suggestion tha t if   th
scheme did not go on they might publish
And  I  desire to impress upon you, gentlemen
right here, that those documents which thi
friend of Mr. Tilton was talking about in th
City of New York in December, 1872, are th
identical one s  which Moulton a nd Tilto n ha
solemnly agreed as the condition of the tri
partite agreement bfr,  in  April, 1S72, to bur
and destroy. They had not burned them
they had preserved them, in violation a
their covenant, treacherously, and now the
were using them, and boasting of their pos
session, as a means of menace and of intimi
dation to Henry Ward Beecher.
I am desired by my associate to call you
attention, gentlemen, to the fact that th
very day on which this letter to the "Com
pGaining Friend " is dated, is the very da
that Mr. Tilton had drawn out his last dolla
at Woodruff & Robinson's; a strange coin
cidence. This case, as I progress in it, yol
will see is as full of remarkable coincidence
as any case that has ever been brought be
fore a court of justice. But that game die
not succeed. Mr. Beecher did not go into E
newspaper enterprise, but'he stayed in th
pulpit.
"]MY COMPLAING FRIEND: Thanks for your good
letter of bad advice. You say,' How easy it is I o
give the lie to the wicked  story,  and  thus end it
forever! "
I have read enough to call your attention
to the letter, gentlemen.  Now I go to the
foot of the letter and show you the threat
that is in it:
"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."
He has told you in the letter before, you
remember, that this Woodhull scandal cannot be answered except by publishing the
"True Story," thereby intimating that he
has got a true story to publish-to tell the
world;  he  has got a true story to publish-referring to the scandal, in December
and not denying it, and closing the letter
with a threat that if he should speak it
would send a thunderbolt through other
hearts.  I ask you why was this lie, this confessed lie, this lie of a letter to a "Compl.ining Friend," when  he had never received any such letter, and never answered
any such letter?  Why was it invented and
published at this moment, except as a menace
to the friends of Mr. Beecher?  For, I want
to tell you in this connection, gentlemen,
that we shall show you at the Union League
Club, when this friend of Mr. Tilton approached the friends of Mr. Beecher on this
newspaper enterprise, and said that that was
the only means of suppressing the scandal, a
friend of Mr. Beecher said to him:   "If
Mr.  Beecher  cannot  stay in his pulpit in
the face of this scandal, it will be still worse
for him as a journalist.  He will expose himself to attack from every quarter; and how
is it going to benefit Mr. Beecher by getting
out of the pulpit and getting into a newspaper?"  Says the friend:   " We can take
care of that.  We have got possession of the
documents."  And, of course, if Henry Ward
Beecher headed a great business enterprise, in
which the friends of Theodore'Tilton and
Theodore Tilton himself were interested, they
would,  not kill it by publishing the docu
The winter went on; Theodore Tilton had
no employment.  I now  come, gentlemen,
to another fact which, unless I mistake, will
throw a greater flood of light into the hidden secrets of this case, and the character of
this defendant, and the manner in which this
scandal has been worked up from month to
mouth and from year to year, than any other
fact that has yet been commented upon
during this opening. You remember the history of what is known here as " The Golden
Age article" that Tilton put in type after
his return from his discouraging efforts to
lecture in the west, in the winter of 1871
and 1872, the paper with which he menaced
Bowen and Beecher, and which brought the
$7,000. Now, gentlemen, that paper was preserved by Theodore Tilton until the following fall, and until the publication of the
Woodhull scandal. And right at this time,
during the excitement of the Woodhull scandal, and when Mr. Moulton was recommendiDg silence to Beecher-when these parties
were agreeing upon silence and suppression, I
will show you that Theodore Tilton artfully,
cunningly, -as in every step of his course in
this transaction, made an effort to get that
article secretly published without assuming
the responsibility of it himself —wanted to
have it mysteriously published.  And so he
76
I
TRICKERY WITH THE'GOLDEN AGE
ARTICLE. 
OPENING PORT
had a conversation with a man  that he de nominates from the witness stand, "That
man over there," whom we have since seen,
Mr. McKelway of The Brooklyn Eagle.
And it transpires, gentlemen, that on the
18th day of November, 1872, Mr. McKelway
of The Brooklyn Eagle, in pursuance of his
profession as a journalist, of course, having
read this Woodhull scandal, was sent by his
principal, Mr. Kinsella, to have an interview
with Mr. Tilton, an appointment having been
brought about and made by their mutual
friend-I will not use that term in regard to
John W. Harman. Their friend, Mr. Harman,
had appointed an interview between Mr. Til ton and Mr. McKelway at Tilton's house, and
that interview  occurred on  the  18th of
November, I think-18th or 19th.  We shall
show you under this head, gentlemen, not
only that Tilton gave the history of this
scandal, and of his difficulty, to McKelway
on that occasion; we shall show you not only
that he stated to McKelway that the charge
be made against Mr. Beecher on that night
of the 30th of December was not adultery,
but improper proposals; we shall show you
that he told Mr. McKelway that his wife re sisted the proposals of Mr. Beecher; and we,
shall show you that when McKelway applied
to him for that article-"The  Golden  Age
article "-for publication, he said that he had
bound himself not to publish; therefore he
could not make any publication for which he
could be held responsible to the public; that
would be in violation of his word.   But he
had no objection to the publication, if it
could be arranged, you know! Well, how
could it be arranged? So they canvassed various schemes by which this article could be
got before the public without Theodore Tilton's being held personally responsible for the
publication; and McKelway suggested that
he might give it to somebody else, and that
somebody else should show it to him, or that
he might have a hypothetical interview with
a man; suppose a case and thus get the facts.
And they canvassed various schemes, and
finally Tilton says, "I will tell you:  we will
go up to my and our deer friend John W.
Harman;  I will take this article along, and
I will give it over to him, and then, if he has
a mind to give it to you, why, that is all right.
I do not care what Mr. Harman does."
And so they went up to John W. Harman's,
and walked into the parlor.   There a new
difficulty met them.   John W. Harman was
not at home.  But Mr. Tilton is equal to any
emergency with his suggestions.   And so he
said to Mr. McKelway,  "See here; I will
write a note to Mr. Harman, and I will leave
this paper in a big envelope right here, on
Harman's table, and then you and I will go
away, and, of course, if you get this paper,
why it is none of my business."   And so he
put the article in the envelope and he wrote
the note to Harman,  and they we nt  away,
and, of course, Mr. McKelway turned right
around and went back into the house andgot
the paper and had it in his possession, as Mr.
Tilton knew he would. But so strong a desire
had Tilton manifested to have this letter
got before the public that when Mr. McKelway came to communicate the facts to his
principal they dared not publish it.  They
suspected a trick and dared not publish it,
and so they dictated it to a shorthand writer,
and then returned the copy to Mr. Harman
and kept the shorthand notes in their possession, and it was not until the following
April that another enterprising newspaper
man got hold of those notes and published
them in The Sunday Press.
Now, gentlemen, that is the history of the
publication of that Golden Age article. It
would have been published on the 19th day
of November, 1872, following the publication
of this Woodhull scandal, by the act of Theodore Tilton, as I have stated it to, you, but for
the fact that his zeal and anxiety to have it
published, and yet to avoid the personal responsibility of its publication, were so marked as to frighten the newspaper men, and
they durst not do it. But in April, 1873, this
newspaper article came before the public in a
surreptitious way, proceeding from the identical copy that Mr. Tilton got into the hands
of Mr. McKelway in the manner which I have
stated.   Of course, it created a great commotion. It was one of the emergencies of the
case. It was published, I think, on Sunday,
the 20th day of April.
Now I  c     ome to another remarkable  toincidence. (Samuel Weller is nothing to Tilton in producing remarkable coincidences.)
I come to another remarkable coincidence. I
said that, in the preceding December, Tilton
had drawn his last dollar from Woodruff &
Robinson-he had drawn his account, but
there was an interest account which had not
been cast up, and between December, 1872,
and April, 1873, he had deposited about $100
more, I believe.   But on the 21st of April,
which was Monday, this account, which had
been previously ordered to be written up, was
paid over to Tilton.
It muust have been on Saturday, the 19th,
that Tilton ordered his account to be made
out, and learned how little he had; on Sunday the 20th this scandalous paper was published-of course without his knowledge,
and on the 21st of April Mr. Tilton drew his
last dollar from the firm of Woodruff & Robinson-his last cent; down to a cent; the
books were closed.
You will note, gentlemen, the treachery
towards Henry C. Bowen of Tilton's attempt
to publish that Golden Age article.
I
76
TIIE DEFENSE.
BLACKMAIL. 
-~~~~~~BAKAL                  77
got away from  Moulton, and, as he wen
away reflecting upon what he  had  seenf
he said to himself, "What does this
mean?"  And, all at once, it occurred to
him wh at it meant, and    in a day or two
afterwards he  saw  Moulton,  a nd whe n  he
suggested  his t heory a bout it, why, he foua nd
that he was  e xactly right; that      monev was
what Moulton wanted. Mr. Beecher had
taken the hint, and Mr. Beecher says: "Why,
I am willing  to contribute; I will contri,
bute;" and Mr. Moulton says:  " It will be
the best investment    you ever  mad e."  Buet,
says Mr. Beecher, "II shall have to fakse  the
money on a mortgage."
Now, gentlemen, I think I do not mistake
Mr. Moulton's evidence. Although he intend ed, attempted to cast an aspersion on
Mr. Beecher's ch    caracter in this re spec t in  his
public statement, when he comes upon the
witness stand, if I did not mistake his evidence, he says that Mr. Beecher told him he
would have to raise it on a mortgage, and as
soon as he could get the money on a mortgage he would contribute. So Moulton knew
that he was not taking the loose money of
Henry Ward Beecher. He knew that he was
requiring him to mortgage his property to raise
it. And yet he would have you believe that
this was a mere incident, a matter that attracted no attention, no thought. And Mr.
Beecher went home and mortgaged the roof
that sheltered him and his aged wife and
children, to satisfy the demand of these two
conspirators, and he went to the bank and
drew the money and took it and placed it in
the hands of Moulton. And then there came
a message from Tilton-'" Grace, mercy and
peace!" That money was put into the
hands of Francis D. Moulton, gentlemen,
and the day he received it he knew that T-il —
ton was wanting money. That is evident
from the fact that a friend had offered to,
contribute money which had been returned.
He knew that Mr. Tilton was wanting money,
and he lost no time in sending him money.
But he sent it with a note saying:  " I send
you a thousand dollars and a memorandum
note. Please sign and return." And what
was Tilton's answer? "II cannot borrow
money, for I see no way to returning it," —
and he sent back the note and the check.
And then Moulton sent him the check without the note, and Tilton kept the money.
And then he went on from time to time,
drawing from Mouilton every time he said hewas short, for one whole year, gentlemen;
for one entire year we have shown you that
Theodore Tilton had no other income except
the $5,000 that Mr. Beecher had deposited
for him with Moulton, and he lived on it and
consumed it, and but for tbc unfortunate
publication of the Tripartite Agreement in
May —in the last of the samle month —there
would have been peace all that year in re —
You will remember that Mr. Tilton had
got the money from Mr. Bowen on the promise never to repeat these scandals, and never,
therefore, to publish that letter, and he had
obtained it on the distinct understanding that
all the papers, which inclnded the one addressed to Bowen by Tilton on January 1st,
should be destroyed; and yet, you see, in
violation of that agreement, in violation of
the agreement by which he had obtained from
Mr. Bowen $7,000, in 1872, six months after
he had so obtained that money, he was colluding with a journalist to get that letter
published, without being compelled to take
the personal responsibility of publishing it.
It was this tripartite agreement to which he
had reference when he said to Mr. McKelway:
"I Why, I have agreed not to publish this
paper, therefore I cannot publish it on my
own responsibility, but if it can get before
the public without my being responsible for
it, all right."
This brings us within a few days of a very
important event in the history of this matter.
I have shown you that in the beginning
they sought the restoration of Mr. Tilton; I
have shown you that in the middle of this
controversy they wanted what afforded bread
and butter to him, a position as proprietor of
the Golden Age, and also in the newspaper
enterprise of 1872.   But as he had gone on,
one disappointment after another had come
upon him, no success had attended his efforts,
and it degenerated, as such things always do
degenerate, into a mere question of money.
You have heard from Mr. Moulton how, on
an occasion, he took pains to display to this
defendant the liberal offer of another person
to contribute to the support of The Golden
Age, with the remarkable statement, gentlemen, which I want to impress upon you, accompanying that exhibition, that they did
not intend to use that money.  Now, if they
did not, pray why did Moulton exhibit it to
Mr. Beecher at all?  If this was money
which had been rejected and was to be returned, why was  Mr. Beecher's attention
called to it? Do not suspect, gentlemen,
that Francis D. Moulton or Theodore Tilton
are bungling operators here.  No more skillful men ever undertook the conducting of
such a transaction as this.  Mr. Moulton did
not go to Henry Ward  Beecher and say,
"Your money or your life."  He did not go
to him and say: "Mr. Tilton is bankrupt;
he is on the verge of starvation; give me
$5,000, or I cannot keep him quiet."  That
is the way the bungler would have done.
That is the way  the unskillful operator
would have performed it.  But do not suspect Francis  D. Moulton of  such  indiscretion as that.  Hfe exhibits  these papers
and says: "My God! isn't that friendship?
isn't that friendship?"  Well, Mr. Beecher
was dull; he did not actually take until he
I
77
11
BLAI-.KyATT,. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
you to bear in mind, that Theodore Tilton
was informed of the enterprise, and knew
what had transpired between his friend and
the friends of Mr. Beecher.  For instance, he
was informed in 1872 who this friend  was,
what he had said, and what he had done
fully; and two years afterwards we find  this
same friend-not another, but the same man
-coming again to the friends of Beecher with
a new suggestion for $5,000 more-made
$10,000 in the start, and finally reduced to
$5,000,.
We will show you, gentlemen, that Mr.
Tilton was seen and talked with on the subject, and knew of the negotiation that was
going on.  We shall show you that this was
about the time of the preparation of the
Bacon letter, which caused  this explosion.
We  shall show you, unle ss I   am  mistaken,
that the Bacon letter was in preparation at
the very time this negotiation for $5,000 was
going on. It was well understood by the
friends of Mr. Beecher and the friend of Mr.
Tilton that it was in preparation. If it is permitted, gentlemen, we shall show you that
this scheme, when mentioned to one or two
others of Mr. Beeeher's friends-this second
scheme —was denounced as a blackmailing
operation, and they refused to submit to it,
or to have anything to do with it. Their
answer was, " If we begin now, we don't
know where we shall stop.   Pay not one
cent." And this fricnd of Mr. Tilton was
informed that this money could notbe raised,
and the negotiation need not longer be continued, or rather the proposition need not
longer be presented. And we shall show you,
gentlemen, that that friend then said:
"Well, the letter to B.*con, or the Bacon
letter, will be published, and Mr. Beecher
will be ruined." The $5,000 was not paid.
True to the prediction of that friend, the
Bacon letter was published, and I think noboddy will dispute that it has been followed
by a persistent and malignant effort to ruin
Henry Ward Beecher, and thus cause the
prophecy of that friend to come true. The
money was not raised; Theodore Tilton did
not get his $5,000; The Golden Age passed
into other hands about this time; and this
controversy began.
gard to        that  scandal. Remember, gentlemen,
that Moulton had never been in the habit of
loaning Tilton money.  He tells   you that
he never l     o aned  him  at any     tim e   exce     ed         -
in     g  $500,  and                      th     at Tilton only  owed
him at               this time about $1,000.  And yet he
went on a  dva ncin g h im f o r        a  y ear un til   he
had advan ced  him the $5,000.  But            in the
spring   of 1874  t  h     e         fund was running low.
This          man, who knew noth              ing about  it, this
man who                   was in blissful ignorance of the
source of             the revenue that was f ee          ding and
supporting him, somehow or other had an                          intu        itive knowledge  of  the fact  that             th    e pile
was    becom      ing ex haus ted.  Because,    we shall
show you, gent        lemen,               that  in May,  1874,
whe n  this money was run n          ing out,   this same
serviceable friend of Tilton's, who had attempted  to organize for his      be nefit  this   newspaper scheme of 1872-this same frie                   nd goes
again      to the  friend  of  Mr. B eecher  and dema nd       s  $5,000 mor e  f or Theodore  T ilton.   I
am reminded of wh at I should  have remembered, that the first dem      an     d  was   for $10.000.
Fa iling in that, they offered to compromise
fo                r $5,000.  Of course, gentlemen, it was
not               demanded for                Theodore Tilton in the
express language of blackmail. Oh, no!
This is a case of indirection from the beginning to the   end  of it; i   ndirection has marked
every step of it, and so you meet it here
again; but  t he   veil is         so th           i     n that the mind
of no intelligent man will fai l to pen etrate it.
The Golden Age was still on Tilton's hands.
It was wor thless; it was ban krupt. Tilton
was seeking to give it away, absolutely begging for some                       ne one to take it; and in 1874
t        her me tcame to the friends    of Mr. Beecher        a
suggestion from  t   his same  friend of Mr. Tilt on who had attempted to negotiate this
newspaper enterprise of 1872, suggesting a
scheme by which Tilton should go to Europe,
and be gone some time. But the difficulty
was            r to  rai se t he mo ney; he had         n     o means to
go to Europe, and it was finally said, " Why,
M       r. Beecher's   friends can pu t       into Mr. Tilton's hands $5,000 of money, under the pretense of a transfer of The Goldern Age. We
can buy The Golden Age o  f Tilt o n,  and                   pay
him  $5,000, a nd  then give it               to somebody
(whoever will take it), and make the transfer
of The Golden Age the cover of putting into
Mr. Tilton's hands $5,000 in money. Now,
as I say to you, gentlemen, this Golden Age,
as has already appeared in the evidence satisfactorily, and will be made further to appear
in evidence, this Golden Age was perfectly
bankrupt. Mr. Tilton had long been seeking
to get rid of it, to give it away; and it was
stated distinctly between this friend of Tilton
and this friend of Beecher, that it was only
used as a cover to transfer this money from
the hands of Mr. Beecher's friends to the
hands of Theodore Tilton. Now, in all these
talks about newspapers, gentlemen, I want
78
. I
MR. BEECHER'S DEFIANCE.
Now, gentlemen, I go back to the publication of the tripartite agreement and to the
scenes that followed about the first of June,
1873. That tripartite agreement, as you
have heard, was published, without the
knowledge or consent of Mr. Beecher, by one
of his friends, who had preserved a copy of
it-the only copy, I believe, gentlemen,, so
far as I am informed, that Alr. Beecher or any
of his - friends ever  of any paper connected with the controversy; for I recall at 
,MR. BEECHER'S DEFIANCB.
this time no paper of the multitude that was
ever left in their hands or kept by Mr. Beecher or any of his friends.  But this friend publishes a copy of the tripartite agreement, and
that caused an explosion.  That was published on Friday, May 30th.   Mr. Tilton then
threatened that he would make a publication,
unless Mr. Beecher in some wa.y vindicated
him from the imputation which lie said the
tripartite  agreement,  thus published, cast
upon him.  Well now, gentlemen, you have
heard from the witness stand how much pains
Theodore Tilton took in changing his clause
of that tripartite agreement before signing
it.  He has told you, Moulton has told you,
and other witnesses will tell you all about it.
He took it home with him, and he re-wrote
it himself-every word of it, as I believe-     f
and he made that clause of the  tripartite
agreement just to suit him; it was just what
he wanted it, and he refused to sign anything
else than just such a statement of his case as
he desired.  Then one would have thought
having drawn his own paper, that the publication of that paper w,ould not have been a
very great offense to Theodore Tilton.  We
could understand how Mr. Bowen might have
complained of the publication, and justly;
but it is difficult to understand how Theodore
could complain of it.  But he did, and he
insisted that that publication put him -in the
position of one having been forgiven by Mr.
Beecher, and therefore Mr. Beecher should do
something to right that wrong.
Mr. Beecher was not responsible for that
publication, but that was no matter.  It is a
peculiarity of this case, gentlemen, which
has marked it from the beginning to the end,
that Mr. Beecher has been held responsible
by Mr. Tilton for everything that everybody
did in connection with this scandal.  If a
member of Plymouth Church uttered a word
concerning Thteodore Tilton, Beecher was re sponsible.  If my friend Shearman said anything that was offensive to Tilton or Moul ton, the man who was to be held responsible
was Beecher, not Shearman.  If the Clerk,
or  Assistant Pastor, or anybody else down
at Plymouth Church, did what Tilton did not
want him to do, or refused to do what he did
want him to do, the man who was to blame
for it was Beechier, and Beechr should be
held responsible.  So this publication of the
tripartite agreement, which was an accident
that none of the parties to it directly were
responsible for, was to hlie charged home upon
Mr. Beecher, and he must redress the wrong;
nay, more, he must do, something  which
would be equivalent to relieving Mr. Tilton
f',)m the imputation that he said his own ar ticle pult upon him.  Well, now, what wasr
that imputation? It is difficult for us to say,
gentlemen.
Mr. Beec he        r sought to conv ince this man
that the publication of the tripartite agree
ment did him no wrong; but he insisted that
it did, andi so he threatened to publish; and,,
on Saturday morning, May 31, Mr. Beecher
was sent for to come to that celebrated study
in Remsen street, where he had an interview
with Moulton and Tilton, and Mr. Tilton
threatened to make a publication; and Mr.
Beecher went   home that   morning  to conside r
and determine his course. He     had t hought
of it through the day, and he had fixed upon
the policy that he should pursue. He had
entered into the policy of silence which they
had instituted for their own protection,
which they had instituted for the purpose of
suppressing the scandals that were floating
in the community against Tilton, and he had
followed that policy with the same good
faith that characterizes every act of Henry
Warit Beecher's life. He had endured their
persecutions, their annoyance, their torments,
their threats, their indignities, for four long
years; but now at last, by the indiscreet act
of a friend, Mr. Tilton claimed to be so offended that this policy of silence should no
longer be adhered to.   "Well,"  said  Mr.
Beecher, "let it come.   I am  prepared to
meet it.   I face your publication,  and  I
defv you!  But there is Plymouth Church,
dearer to me than the apple of my eye; there
are these thousand trusting souls, young
men and women who have been reared up
by me and under my instruction; there is
its Suinday School organization, which has
within it three thousand children; there is
a power that is doing good in the land, foremost in every good work, carrying on every
enterprise of charity and benevolence, with
an effective force that characterizes no other
church in this city or this State. That church is
mine. Under God, I have been permitted to
raise it, to build it up and to hold it together.
Now, shall I shatter it? Shall any personal
controversy of mine be made the thunderbolt
that shall shiver Plymouth Church to atoms?
Shall I divide it? No; that society shall be
united; I will fight my own fight against
Theodore Tilton, but I will not drag it into
the church.   I will step outside of it; then
I will welcome the conflict, if the conflict
must come." And so, on Sunday night, he
went down again,-this brave-hearted, true
man,-to meet the men who had been per secutiing him for years; and there he said:
" You publish; I resign; I welcome the con flict —come on. But I take not Plymouth
Church into this conflict; at least, I will
give these noble men and women, who, have
stood by me, the opportunity to say whether
they accept my resignation, before this con test is inaugurated." Thus he met them; and
how did they receive it? Why, when he
showed to Moulton this resignation, Moulton
said:  "Good God I"  It took his breath
away. He read it, and he ran down quicker
than lightning to convey to Tilton the news
79 
OPENING FOR THE DEFETNS.
This mood is a reservoir of mildew. You can stand
if the whole case were published to-morrow.  Iri
my opinion it shows only a selfish faith in God to
go whining 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 shall try
and try and try, as in the past.
Yb,u are mistaken when you say that Theodore
Tilton chargce you with making him appear as one
gracionsi phm.:oned by you.  [le ssid the form in
which it was published in some of the papers made
it 8o  appear; and it was from this that he asked
relief.? don't think it impossible to frame a letter
which will cover the case.  May God bless you; I
know lie will protect you."
of this man's design.  The time has come
wthen persecution will be no longer submitted
to: the  hour   has come  w    hen it i  s         liberty or
conflict, and conflict is liberty: " You publish; I fight."  They were amazed at the
temeaty of this man; they were astounded
to find        tat that    the mano                    h they thought they had
sure hold                           on and  whom th ey  Would lead
forever under their yoke, at last had come to
th e point of saying:  "I Gentlemen, thus far,
but no f     arther." Mr. Beec                     her went home,
and on the next morning he indited the letter of June 1st, expecting that that was to
be the last Sabbath he would spend as miniister of Plymouth Church. He supposed, in
the language of that letter, that he was
'"preaching his last sermon;" he supposed
that he should go from the pulpit, on
that Sunday night, to controversy and to
battle with these two men, who had been
hounding him for the last four years.   But
he writes to Moulton: " I too shall make a
statement; you publish; I publish too; I
will make a statement that will stand the
test of the Judgment Day" —and he sends
the letter down to Moulton. He receives
back this answer:
" MY DEAR FRIEND: Your letter makes this first
Sabbath of summer dark and cold, like a vault."
A prophet was Francis D. Moulton, as well
as a " Mutual Friend."
But what sort of a God is Moulton's, if he
believes what he asserts, "I know that God
will protect you, Mr. Beecher," if Mr. Beecher
was then the man that he now pretends to say
he  is?   "God  will  protect  you."   Will
God  protect  the  guilty?   Does  Moulton
think that his God protects the guilty?
Does he think that He will cover with
His protection one who has been for
years a cold-blooded and  heartlessseducer of
innocence? I affirm, gentlemen, that both ofthose expressions in that letter show that;
Francis  D.  Moulton knew that, when  this.
whole scandal was out, there was nothing to
affect the honor of Henry Ward Beecher as a
Christian minister.    Indiscretion it might
prove; complications arising out of family
difficulties that are hard of solution and difficult to be explained to outsiders, it might establisb; but he tells him and he tells you,
" There is no guilt there, on account of which,
the world knowing it, you could not still'!
stand as the pastor of P'qmouth Church."
I had hoped, gentlemen, to have in court
an authority on the subject bearing upon this
letter.  I will refer to it, and state the law. It
is this, as established by the Supreme Court of
this State, that when a jury is called upon to
consider the credibility of a witness, and his
writing, which he made at the time of a transaction, is in conflict with the testimony  that
he gives on the trial, and that testimony is
also in conflict with the other party to the
case, the jury are bound to take the writing,
and not the oath of the witness as delivered
from the stand. I read, if your Honor please,
from the  20th of  Howard's Supreme Court
Reports, Boyd vs. Colt, page 384.
" Where, on a question of act, the plaintifft
hswears one way, and the defendant directly adverse,
and the defendant introduces a letter of the plaintiff in evidence, written before the commencement
of the action, flatly contradicting his oath, the jury
are bound to disregard his oath."
Ah, gentlemen,  you wi         ll       remember the
history of that letter. Mr. Moulton first
starts to write, and he writes the following:
"MY DEAR  FRr.ED: You know I have never
been in sympathy with the mood out of which you
have often spoken as you have written this morning. I know you can stand if the whole case was
published to-morrow; and, in my opinion, it shows
a selfish faith in God, to —"' 
" I know that you can stand if the whole case was
published to-morrow."
And so did Mr. Beecher know it; it conveyed no information to him; but it is a
confession passing between these two men, at
this time, showing that they both knew that,
when the truth  of this case came out, Mr.
Beecher could stand, and stand successfully.
Having written that, he goes back and writes
again:
"M Y DEAR FRIEND: Your letter makes 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 slink away again."
"You know that I have never been in sympathy
with. but that I absolutely abhor, the unmanly       "The question in this case was whether the sermoodout of which your letter of this morning came.  vices performed by the plaintiff.for the defendant.
---
80
And there he stops; erases what he has
written; and Commences his letter anew;
but he says to Mr. Beecher there:
This is a decision at the New York General
Terin, Sutherland, Judge, delivering the opinion.
And so it did cower and slink away! 
MR. BEECHIER'S DEFIANCE.
in London were performed under a special agreement to be paid fbr at the rAte of $1,0)0 per year,
or whether they were performed without any special agreement as to the rate of compers:tion, and
with a view of the plaintiff receiving therefor what
they were really worth.  On this question of fact
the plaintiff swore one way, and Sargeant, the
agent of the defendant, another.  The jury had a
right to credit the plaintiffand not Saraeant.  We
ought not to grant a new trial because they did so.
But I do not see how the jury could disregard
the plaintiff's letter produced and read in evidence
by the defendant on the trial.  In that letter, the
defendant expressly admits that he had been in the
defendant's employ for two years at $I,0jo, meaning evidently at the rate of, or salary of $1,000 per
year, and these two years must include the period
of his services in London up to the date of his letter
on or about the 1st of January, 1854.
It appears to me that this letter, unexplained,
was conclusive against the plaintiff, and that the
jury were bound to disregard his oath when flatly
contradicted by his own letter, written long before
the action was commenced.
I think the judzment should be reversed and a
new trial ordered, with costs to abide the event."
the most remarkable that has ever been exhibited before any judicial tribunal. I have
taken pains, gentlemeen, to have count ed the
number of times in   which  Mr. Moulton, i n
answer to questions on cross-examination
touching material points in this case, has said,
" I don't remember," or " I don't recollect;"
the number of matters which have been called
to his attention, important and material in
this case, where he has refused to give an answer, and cloaked himself under the pretense
that he don't remember, or cannot recollect;
and that number,gentlemen,is 305 times. Here
is a specimen. Speaking of Mrs. Woodhull,
after her Free L:)ve speech at Steinway Hall,
where he heard her. and was present with Mr.
Tilton when he presided, I asked him if he
had Mrs. Woodhull at his house after that.
[Reading:]
"Q. Did you have her at your house after that
speech? A. I don't recollect.
Q.        h  ou  don' t   recollect? A. No.
Q. When Mrs. Woodhull m as at your house talk.
ing about her Steinway Hall speech, did Mr. Tilton
come with her? A. I don't remember whether he
was with her or not, Sir.
Q. Do you recollect whether he went away with
her? A. I don't recollect, Sir."
Now,  gentlemen, we have shown you the
letter of Francis D. Moulton, written in June,
1873, to Henry Wald Beecher, who knew certainly quite as well as Mr. Moulton knew
what were the real facts of this case, and in
that letter we see Francis D. Moulton saying
to Mr. Beecher:  - You can stand if the whole
case was published to-morrow."  But now he
comes into court, and, under the solemnity of
an oath, proceeds to tell you that this man,
for two years before-for three years nearly,
had been confessing his adultery with the
plaintiff's wife.   Hie tells you a story which
in fact makes the defendant one of the worst
seducers and libertines the country has ever
seen;  and yet he pretends to us that such a
man could stand in the foremost pulpit of
America and be received and sustained by its
people, although he should confess his crime
and the falsehoods and lies that he had told
to cover it up!  Gentlemen of the jury, you
will not believe, in the face of this letter, in
the face of the numerous contradictions of
Mr. Moulton, in the face of the fact that the
witness has been himself lying about this
case,                     as he would now  have you believe, for
four years-when you have heard the evidence of Henry Ward Beecher on this subject,
I say, you will not believe the testimony of
Francis D. Moulton, but will accept his letter
written on that Sunday morning of June 1 st,
1873, as stating the truth and the whole
truth in this unfortunate controversy.
While I am on this subject, gentlemen, I
desire to call your attention buiefly to one or
two of the marked features that characterize
Mr. Moulton's testimony as a witness.  I
have had occasion, once or twice, as I passed
along, to call your attention to special facts
where lie forgets or don't remember.  His
cross-examination, in that respect, was one of
the most remarkable that I have ever seen in
a        court of justice.  I doubt whether it is not
6 
"Q. Do you remember whether the amount
offered was as high as $5,000? A. I don't recollect,
Sir.
Q. Do you remember whether it was as high as
$3,000? A. I don't recollect. "
" Q. What was the subject of that speech? A. I
don't recollect, Sir, what the subject was.
Q. Well, you heard it? A. Yes, Sir.
Q. Was it on the marriage relation? A. I really
don't recollect, Sir, whether that was the title or
not.
Q. I did not ask you about the title?  A.  You
asked me what t he  speech was on, whether it was
on the marriage relation.
Q. Yes; I asked you whether the subject was
not the marriage relation? A. That, I say, I can
not tell you.
Q. You cannot tell that? A. No, Sir."
Present at th    pec    the  speech-a sp eech that had
created great excitement-had a serious interruption-and he could not tell the subject of
the speech! And yet you will remember.
gentlemen, that, after he got out of our hands,
on cross-examination, and was taken by the
plaintiff, he was able to repeat, almost word
for word, Theodore Tilton's speech introducing Victoria Woodhull on that occasion, made
in 1871, though he swore he had never read
it since that time. He repented it, I say, almost word foreword; a fact in human mem
81
Speaking of this gift that was proposed to
be givei-i to The, Golden Age, at the time he
exhibited the papers to IVIR. Beecher, f3aying
that I I that was evidence of friendship," I askhim:
Then, speaking of the Woodhull speech
again: 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
when  MIr. Beeclier proposed to meet their
threats by the publ)lic ation of that mild and
harmless card. But there is another fact,
gentlemen of the juiry, (,oonected with this 2d
day of June, 1878, to whioh it now becomes
my duty to call your attention.
ory that I have never before seen equaledif it was true.  He repeated it, only leaving
out of it that remarkable feature in which
Theodore Tilton introduced Victoria Woodhull to the audience as the advocate of social
freedom.  With that single exception, gentlemen, which occurs at the last end of the
speech, his repetition of that speech was word
for word with the short-hand report published in the newspaper the next morning,
though he tells you he had never read it since;
and yet when I had him on cross-examina        u
tion, he could not tell us what the subject of
Victoria Woodhull's lecture was!
Gentlemen of the jury, will you give credit
to the testimony of such a witness?  Will
you hang the most important issues that have
been submitted to the judgment of twelve
men for eighteen centuries, on the testimony
of such a witness as that?  I repeat that, by
actual count, we have had no less than 305
such answers as                              those   from Francis D. Moulton on cross-examination.
We now, gentlemen, approach one of the
most delicate subjects which my duty calls
upon me to discuss.   I refer to the connection of Mrs. Emmra Moulton with this case.
Apart from her relations to this matter, I
shall not speak of this lady otherwise than
in term s   o f respe ct.   I  feel most  deeply her
extraordinary position-tfe terrible emergency which she  bad to m     eet, and the overwhelminc po wer of  t  he  temptation  before
which s h e  has fallen.    The   tr uth of    this case
makes it impossible   for me  t o a bstain from
speaking with  apparent severit y of  this  lady's
testimony; but  I d    o  so with   s orrow for he r,
reserving all my indignation for those who
have  fowced her  upo n the witness-stand to
c onfirm  the accusations which th ey  have  invented. The experience of ages has shown,
gentlemen,   that among the  best,   the iurest 
and the loveliest of women, the instinct of
devotion    to their husbands and their children
is so strong, and  ris e s   to su ch a subli me height
of unselfishness, that  not monly will they, in
the majolity of    cases, sacrifice  all their own
temporal interests, but  that in many instances they will consciousl y  imperil    their    immortal souls for the  sake of   savin g the  un worthy
men to whom they are bound by sacred tie    s.
This truth has  always been  r ecogn ized    by our
law, w hi c h until eightye ars ago would   not permit wives to be called upon to testify for or
against their husbands, and by       that other principle of the  law, still in force, which  absolves
a woman from responsibility for any crime, less
than murder, c ommitted by h er  in    the immediate presence of      her husb nd.  Th is truth
is perfectly familiar to every one frequenting
our courts; for  not a week passes in which
some poor, broken-hearted, cruelly-abused
w oman, in the  lower walks of  life,   doe s not
a ppear in some c ourt and  swear that    the i njuries which she had received from her brutal husband were not really inflicted by him,
but proceeded from some other cause. It is
recognized by society at large, which expects,
as a matter of course, that women, otherwise
excellent and truthful, are just, in proportion
to the loveliness and magnanimity of their nat ures, likely to deceive their friends in their
accounts of their husbands' conduct. And
this feminine weakness, which it is impossible
not to admire, even while we must strongly
condemn, it has been immortalized by more
than one poet as a fit subject for pathetic
verse.   One  of  the  most  touching  of
Adelaide Proctor's poems is illustrative of this
We  w er e         sp eaking, ge        ntlemen of   the jury,
of       t      he letter s  of Jun e  1st, 1878,  which  you
will remember occurred on Sunday.   The
difficulty which the publication of the tripartite ag reement had created was, aft er Mr.
Beecher's threat of resignation, and his proposal to face these men, and to meet statemerit to statement settled, as you will see,
by a very slight concession. Moulton proved
a prophet, and this new danger did slink
away and hide itself when Mr. Beecher met it
firmly and bade them do their woist, and Mr.
'Gilt-on was contented with this little card,
which he says he wrote himself, and which
was published in The Brooklyn EEagle.
"To the Editor of The Brooklyn
DZAR SIR: I have maintained
the slanders which have for some
me.  I should not speak now b
relieving another of unjust imn
cament that w to recently publt
my name with others, was pub.
sultation either with me or wi
with  any authorization            from us.
should lead the public to regar
as the author of the calumaies t
it would do him great injustice
that he should even seem to be ]
injurious statements, whose f
wholly from others.
Now, you will see, gentlemen, that that
card satisfied Mr. Tilton; but the document
which  was published, the tripartite agreement, had not asserted or professed to assert
that Theodore Tilton was the author of the
scandals which it recited, and the publication
of it created no such  imputation; and yet
you see that this great emergency was settled
82
MRS. MOULTON'S TESTIMONY.
AFTERNOON SESSION.
H. W. BEECHER." 
MRS. MOULTON'S TESTIMONY.
had been in fault, and to what fault could he
have referred, except the critne of adultery?
If, then,  I put  that  very word  into his
mouth, I shall only be expressing his real
meaning, and he serving the cause of sub  tantial truth." Such, gentlemen, it is easy to
imagine, was the process by which Mrs. Moul  ton  convinced herself that  she  ought to
testify to these explicit confessions; and hav  ing quieted her conscience to this extent, it
was not hard to go farther, and attribute
language to herself which no lady could pos sibly  use under  such  circumstances, and
language to Mr. Beecher which none but a
fool could utter.
The first interview which Mrs. Moulton re lates obviously desobsl o s  not suiffice to  convict
Mr. Beecher, while it plainly shows that her
husband had previously given her his version
of the case.   Mr. Beecher, she says, asked
her it F,'ank had told her the facts about
his great sorrow, and she said he had. No thing else that is pretended to be a confession
follows, until June 2d, 1873, when Mrs.
Moulton says she advised Mr. Beecher to con fess his crime before the church.   This is ex traordinary language for a lady to use, when
conversing with her pastor in his great sor row.  The word "crime" is offensive  and
coarse. No lady of the refinement of'Afrs.
Moulton could possibly have used it on such
an occasion. This, it will be remembered, was
the time when Mrs. Moulton says she kissed
Mr. Beecher on the forehead insympathy for his
distress. You will remembermrs. Motilton's
singular manner in giving her testimony.
Her face was flushed, her eyes were steadily
fixed upon the floor, and she could not look
even her huisband's own counsel in the face.
During the whole of the cros-examination in
the morning session, she never once looked Mr.
E%,arts in the eye. Twice she made the effort
to do so, but her eyes instantly wandered and
made the circuit of the court-room and the
ceiling, without resting upon her questioner.
In the afternoon, by a desperate effort, she
succeeded  in doing better.   But these are
minor matters. Her manner strongly indicated that she was repeating a lemon. By
another of those extraordinary coincidences
which mark her husband's testimony, she,
too, was obliged to stop and correct her ac
count of Mr. Bee-che,r's language, by changing it from a natural to an unnatural form of
expression. In her direct examination she
made Mr. Beecher say, " Tilton in striking at
me, sacrifices his wife," and immediately
changed the words into this strange form,
' Tilton, in stating the truth concerning me,
sacrifices his wife;" an awkward and qtterlf
unnatural mode of speech, reminding Us of
her husband's saying that Mr. Breecer spokt;.
of his  "relations"-and then  9top'piqg; ard
changing it int,o,,,exqal':relations";- with
hers. Tilton. It is perfoctly clear that these
very point. It is called "Milly's Expiation,"
and is the story of a poor, high-minded girl,
who, in order to save her lover from a con  viction for murder, committed deliberate per  jnly, and having saved him, devoted the
rest of her life to one long expiation for her
sin.
What is the relation of Mrs. Moulton to
this case? This lady is the wife of the only
man who has anything to lose by a verdict
for the defendant. Animated by his thirst
for revenge, Francis D. Moulton has periled
all on the issue of this suit. The plaintiff
himself might find some persons to excuse
him, on the supposition of an insane jealousy;
but no such excuse can be made for his
friend.  He will be held to a strict and stern
responsibility, and the plaintiffs failure in
this suit, as every man can see, involves Mr.
Moulton in utter and hopeless ruin.  Yet his
guilt  and  his  ruin  will not release his
unhappy wife from her allegiance, nor make
himn  any the less the father of her only
child.   What a terrible alternative for her!
If she so testifies as to save Mr. Beecher, she
necessarily ruins her own husli)and, destroys
her home, and leaves her only child to a
blight.  If, on the other hand, she can give
such testimony as will convict Mr. Beecher,
she saves her husband's famne, at least so far as
to prevent the exposure of his perjury.  And
a woman's confidence may lead her to hope
that she can thus reinstate him  in social
position, and maintain him in the business
world.
There is much to be said in palliation of
Mrs. Moulton's course.   Her husband  has
doubtless assured her with the utmost solem nity that he knows Mr. Beecher to be guilty; 
and this she may well have been made to believe, since it is hard indeed for a wife to disbelieve the earnest assurances of her husband.
The struggle then presents itself to her mind
as one between her husband, asserting the
substantial truth, and her husband's enemies
asserting substantial falsehood. "What mnatteris it," she may  say to herself,  " which
side presents the truth as to details? The
side which has the substantial truth ought to
gain the victory; and if that victory can only
be gained by misrepresenting some of the
minor circumstances, is it not better that the
truth should be sacrificed in respect to these
details, than that it should be sacrificed upon
the main issue?  Mr. Beecher," she may say,
"has certainly been guilty of adultery.   Is
it not less wicked that I should say that he
has confessed it to me, than that he should
sacrifice my  husband, by  falsely asserting
that he has not confessed to him?  Since            fihe
has confessed to somebody, of course, whien
talking on the same subject, he must have
meant to confess to me.   He expressed himself sorrowfully. and for what else could he
have felt sorrow? He acknowledged that                                                    the
83 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
changes were made for the purpose of inserting something unnatural, with a view to the
conviction of Mr. Beecher.
I will not dwell on other points of the
story which show its inherent improbability;
the  language  about the  tortures of the
damned, which is plainly copied from his
letter of February, 1872; the continued advice to go to the church immediately and tell
all the truth, given the day after Moulton
had so strongly dissuaded him from publishing anything, and two days after Tilton had
threatened to shoot Beecher if he did tell the
truth; the allusion to the card in The Eayle,
as a thing which he was considering, but
thought useless, when in fact the card was
already in type in The Eagle office, as Moulton himself has shown; the unutterable absurdity of Mr. Beecher's announcement that
he should never see her again, and should
poison himself forthwith, followed by his conclusion to postpone his death for one day,
for the sake of collecting some mementoes to
send through her to his friends.  These inherent absurdities are enough to condemn
this story.  But I shall have something even
more decisive to say upon the subject of this
interview presently.
Before coming to that, however, I desire
you to observe that Mrs. Moulton's account
of the interview of July 13th, 1874, bears
similar internal evidence of its untruth.  I
will only call attention to one point.  Mrs.
Moulton accuses herself cf having used this
unladylike expression  "If you had confessed it then, you would have been better
off.  Now, you have the original crime and
four years of perjury and lying to answer
for."  Gentlemen, you have seen for yourselves that Mrs. Moulton is naturally a lady;
you know and I know that she has the manners of a lady.  She could no more  have
made that coarse and vulgar speech to her
pastor, at that time, than she could have cut
off her hand.  Nor could she have had even
the idea of "peijury" in her mind, for Mr.
Beecher had never taken an oath, nor said a
word in public, except in his brief card of
June 30, 1873.   But the climax is reached
when she represents Mr. Beecher as Xresponding to that insult,  "You are dearer to me
than any sister I have."  That is the reply
he makes to her charge of perjury!
Again,  the account which  Mr. Moulton
gives of her interview with Mrs. Tilton in
October. 1873, is preposterous upon its fa,ce.
In her direct examination she told you that
she then called on Mrs. Tilton, to ask if she
would allow her husband to go down with
the truth.  On her cross-examination, she
admitted that on this occasion she implored
Mrs. Tilton  to stand by Mr. Beecher, and
urged her with agony and tears not to allow
Mr. rTilton to destroy him.   That is the interview which she states occurred between
herself and Mrs. Tilton, you will remember,
gentlemen, in October, 1873, at the time Mr.
Tilton had gone down to the church, at the
church meeting.  But feeling the difficulty of
her position before you, Mrs. Moulton sought
to qualifv this statement, by claiming that she
o nly begged  Mrs. Tilton to stand    by Mr.
BAne cher so lon g as she could  withou t saci-i
ficing the truth. Yet if Mrs. Moulton is to
be believed, it was impossible for Mrs. Tilton to stand by Mr. Beecher at all, without
sacrificing the truth.
But, gentlemen, there remains a graver
fact than any to which I have yet referred.
You will observe that Mrs. Moulton fixes
the principal interview with Mr. Beecher
upon  Monday, the 2d of June, 1873.  She
has identified that day with great particularity, and left no room for misapprehension
as to date. She has also fixed the length of
that interview at four hours, by reference to
circumstances which cannot now be explained
away. The motive for naming this day is
obvious. There were but two days on which,
even according to the plaintiff's theory, the
idea of suicide could possibly have been
talked about, namely: May 31 and June 2.
1873.  And  Mrs. Moulton was required to
confirm her husband's story of Mr. Beecher's
contemplated suicide on May 3lst, which
was Saturday.  The testimony of Mr. Moulton has left no room for a four hours' interview between his wife and Mr.  Beecher.  The
next Monday was therefore chosen as the
only available day, and it has been specified,
I repeat, with the utmnost particularity. The
subject of this pretended conversation, and
the circumstances under which it was had,
are such as to make it certain that it either
took place on June 2, 187' or never took
place at all.
Gentlemen, in all this the interposition of
Divine Providence is most singularly manifest. For, upon that very morning of June
2d, 1873, Mr. Beecher was detained at his
own house in consultation with a gentleman
well known to you All; and at the very time
at which, according to Mrs. Moulton, she was
tucking him up on her sofa, and encouraging
him to confess, he was seated by the side of
his own wife, and speeding on his way to
Peelkskill! This we shall prove to you so
conclusively, gentlemen, that I venture with
confidence to piedict that you will see Mrs.
Moulton again on the witness stand, testifying that by June 2d, she meant May 31st,
that by Monday she meant Saturday, that by
four hours she meant half an hour, that
there was no sofa and no afghan, that nine
o'clock in the morning was seven o'clock in
the evening, and that Mr. Beecher's card in
The Eagle was not spoken of or thought of!
Perhaps you will believe this story, gentlemen, when thus amended, as amended it will
gutely be,, but ff you do, your capacity for
84 
REFUSAL TO ACKNOWLEDGE AN OFFENSE.
belief will exceed that of any other twelve
gentlemen in my  acquaintance.   For Mr.
Beecher will give you  the  most  explicit
assurance that no such conversation as that
which Mrs. Moulton has related ever occurred.
either on June 2d or at any other time, that
he never spoke of suicide, and she never spoke
of crime, and that the only interview between
himself and this lady at or about this period
took place on the evening of Saturday, May
81st, lasting only from fifteen minutes to
half an hour, while Mr. Moulton stepped
down stairs to repeat Mr. Beecher's proposed
resignation to Mr. Tilton.
Gentlemen, this portion of my task hag
been a peculiarly unwelcome one to me.  I
have personally known  and esteemed Mrs.
Moulton. I had hoped that at the last she
might be saved from the terrible calamity
which has befallen her. I beseech you to
judge charitably of this hapless lady, dragged
down to ruin by two men who have slaughtered their own wives and children, in their
desperate attempt at an impossible revenge.
She will yet repent of her grievous error.
She will realize that by truth, and truth only,
can she serve to any purpose those whom she
loves; and she will live to ask and to receive
the forgiveness of the man whom she has
vainly tried to derstroy.
to convince Moulton  that h e could not sign
it; but Moulton persisted, and. after  I had
declined, still urged    it upon  Mr. Beecher.
You will remember, ill the    evidence given,
it has been stated to you by Mr. Moulton
himself, that he told Beecher        that if he would
sign this card,  ac knowledging an offense
without stat ing what   the offense was, Theodore       Til ton w ould accep t it as satisfactory,
and if Mr. Beeche r would   sign it, he, Moulton, would burn every paper connected with
this case, and  would stand by Beecher  if    Tilton s ought  to w age  a conflic    t with him after
that. Now, gentlemen of the jury, if Mr.
Beecher had  known  what  they say lie kn ew;
if   he       had    been conscious   of guilt with this
w o m an for sixteen  months; if h e had  con -
fessed it over    anover  er again t o all thes e parties; if i t be true that  his writing  referred to
adultery, and not to a comp l ica te d  domestic
family difficulty-if that  be t rue, I say, how
can you explai         n  t he fact that Mr. Beecher refused the offer  of Mr.  Moulton? He had  not
distrusted Mr. Moulton at this time. Moulton  still had his confidence. He still believed
Moulton his friend, and   he  relied upon  Moulton fulfilling the  p ro mise    if he  made    it.
Now, gentlemen of the jury, do you believe
that if Henry Ward Beecher had been conscious of  his guilt, if he had known that  his
guil t could be  pro ved by a clou  d of wit -
nesses, that he  would  have  r efused    the offer
to sign  a  card  wh ich si mply acknowledged an
offense, without naming the offense,  and t hus
halie the paper destroyed and make an ally of
Moulton whom Tilt on cou ld  not ha ve  detached. The y would    have disarmed themselves with  the destruction of   that paper.
They would    have had nothing to go int o
court with a case against Mr. Beecher.
How is it possible, I say, to account for
this refusal upon any known motive which
actuates or controls human nature? Why, if
Mr. Beecher had not been conscious of his own
innocence —if he had not felt confident of the
power, however thick the storm might beat
upon him, ultimately to vindicate himself
from this charge, he would have made haste
to sign that card, attach Moulton to him, and
let him destroy the paoers and the evidence
against him. But he refused, steadfastly refused, to do any such thing. He said, " I will
sign no card; " and for this reason. Mr. Tilton had charged, it is true, in the Bacon letter,
simply an offense; but he had charged it in
such a way that most people, reading the
Bacon letter, thought that it intended to
charge a marital offense; and if Ml. Beecher
had signed this card acknowledging an offense, persons who wantedl to believe him
guilty would say that that meant adultery,
and he would not sign unless the card should
specify what the offense was. That was the
point, and the point of dispute in that adjustment.
I go now briefly. for a moment, to the
publication of the Bacon letter. and to the
effort that was made to induce Mr. Beecher
to sign a card acknowledging that he had
committed an offense against Theodore Tilton,
but no  crime, which offense hie had apologized
for, and that apology had been accepted and
the difficulty settled, and he should not be a
party to the opening of that controversy.
That card was proposed, as you remember,
gentlemen, by 3Moulton, who thought, or
pretended to think, that'the Bacon letter still
left open a way of compromise and settlement by which this public scandal, this great
public calamity, which has been inflicted
upon th-e world, could be avoided. His plan
was that, Mr. Tilton having charged Mr.
Beecher with an offense in the Bacon letter,
andl not having characterized that offense,
Mr. Beecher should acknowledge that he had
committed an offense, but add that he had
apologized for it, that that apology had been
accepted and the case settled.
It was in regard to this card, gentlemen,
as I stated to yoll on Friday evening, that I
was called into this case as the adviser of Mr.
Moulton and Mr. Beecher on  that subject.
I differed with Mr. Moulton, as I there stated.
I could not see how any friend of Mr. Beecher
could advise him to sign this card. I sought
85
MR. BEECHER'S REFUSAL TO AC  KNOWLEDGE AN OFFENSE AGAINST
MR. TILTON. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
to you our case, when we  have proven  the
facts which I have laid before you, you will
see that the case explains the letters.  The
letters explain themselves. They are entirely
consistent with the case as we shall make it.
Everything here turns upon a single question.
When  these people were talking upon gen eralities, when Mr. Beecher was using gene ral language which might cover one thing or
cover another thing, the question is, To what
were the parties referring, what did they have
in their minds? Did they have this compli cated transaction, the details of which were
difficult of exact statement, involving this
business trouble, involving the stories which
Mr. Beecher had told and circulated against
Mr.  Tilton, involving  the  angry  remarks
which he had made  to Bowen when that
letter had been presented to him, involving
the domestic difficulty between  Tilton and
his wife, in which Mr. and Mrs. Beecher had
both taken part, involving  the  supposed
state of Mrs. Tilton's affections, for which
Mr. Beecher was induced to blame himself: was it this complicated affair which had ended
in Tilton's dismissal and injury, and for
which Mr. Beecher had been convinced that
he had been in the wrong. and had done
Tilton injustice-was it this, or was it a case
of adultery?  That is the only question here
for you.  And, as I say, the case that we
have made, the facts that already stand proved
in this case, when they are put alongside of
other facts which we shall prove, will show
you beyond all question what it was  these
parties were talking about, and what it is
that this general language in the correspondence refers to.  You  will see, gentlemen,
how  utterly  unsafe  it is to infer  any
particular offense as covered by general
language that designates nothing. In all
thi s correspondence yo u will  obse rve that  but
very few facts are s  tated   at all.  Tis  tcorespondence consists entirely in general expressions of sorrow, find regret and anguish * but
wherever there is a fact stated in one of these
letters, when you come t o c onsider    it, as you
will  when the case  comes  to be  sunommed upwherever  there is  a fact  stated in one of  these
letters, you will see  that  that fact is against
adultery; it tends to establish innocence and
not guilt.
But to show you how utterly unsafe it is to
say that general language points to any particular sin or crime, I desire to read to you
brieflv now a letter from Mrs. Tilton dated
the 31st of January, 1868. It is conceded on
all hands that at this time this lady was perfectly piure. This  language had  lno relation
to adultery, as the plaintiff and we both concede. It is nine months before the pretended
allegation, and two years and a half before
even a suspicion had been excited. All agree
that at this time this lady had no suspicion
or thought that she had been accused of
An d   that brings me to  consider fom                         a   single
moment the card which has been given in
evidence, which Tilton tells you he prepared
after consultation with his wife, after his
wife had been before the Committee.
It is possible that if the card had
specified what Mr. Beecher said the offense
was, he would have signed a card admitting
all offense, and specifying what it was so
clearly that nobody could mistake it; but if
there was to be left that ambiguity about it
which would leave it open to misconstruction,
he refused absolutely to sign it. Now, gentlemen, this card has been introduced, and
Mr. Tilton tells you that he prepared it in
consultation with his wife. It is a proposed
report for the Committee to make. I will
read but a single clause of it:
" The Committee farther find that Mr. Tilton, in
his relations with the pastor, had a just cause of
offense and had received a voluntary apology. Mr.
Tilton declined to characterize the offense for the
following reasons: 
First, because the necessary evidence which
should accompany any statement would include
the names of persons who had happily escaped
thus far the tongue of public gossip.
Next, that the apology was designed to cover a
complicated transaction, including details difficult
of exact or just statement."
Now, gentlemen,            that  is precisely what
Henry War        d  Beec her h    as alwavs said  this
controversy between himself    and The                   odore
Tilton was.  He                        ha     as always said tat that
is w h           at his correspondence pointed to, and to
nothing else. He has   always  said that that
is wha        t the  letter          of apology and the other
le       tters               referred to,      ad  nothing else. It was
a n  apology,        in t he language of this report,
adesigned to covera acomplicated transact ion,
including details  diffi cult of exact                    "     and just
statement. ":Now, you  have  Mr. Tilton
going home, and in consultation with his
wife, after she has been before the'ommittee,
agreeing with her that a certain report shall
l e made by this Committee, and they will go
before the Committee and make a statement
which shall justify'that report; and he there
writes in lhis own handwriting the exact
statement that Mr. Beecher has always given
of this affair.
I have now, gentlemen, I believe, gone
over all the facts of this case so far as I
(design to call them to your attention in this
address. You will observe, gentlemen, that
I have spent no time in commenting uipoin or
explaining the letters of the defendant.  I
have confined myself to stating a case, which
we shall prove, which explains the letters;
and I prefer that the case should explain the
letters, rather than to explain them by mere
word of mouth.  Wheli we have presented
86
MR. BEECHER'S LETTERS. 
IMPROBABILITIES OF THE PLAINTIFF'S STORY.
dore Tilton was put upon  the witness stand
to explain away his own letters, and attributed them all to his early belief in Calvinism,
and to the agony which the occasional return
of that belief causes in his soul! [Laughter.]
John Calvin was responsible for his letters,
his sins and omissions prior to  1870, and
Henry Ward Beecher has been responsible for
all that have been committed since that time!
[Laughter.]  So between Calvin and Beecher,
Tilton walks out as white-souled in his own
estimation as hlie describes his wife to be.
In weighing, therefore, the testimony in
in the case, we say you are to consider, gentlemen, the relative probabilities and improbabilities involved, of innocence and guilt respectively.  It is impossible, if the letters of
the defendant are confessions of guilt, that
the guilty man should write such letters,
most of them  voluntarily, and covering a
long period of time.  We say, gentlemen of
the jury, that if Henry Ward Beecher had
been  conscious of guilt,  it he had  supposed at the time of writing these letters
that they could be construed into confessions
of adultery, it is not possible that he, or any
man so situated, should have ever written
them.  Instead of these letters being  evidence of guilt, the fact that he has used this
general language is evidence that at the time
of writing the thought that it could be perverted to cover such a charge never occurred
to him.
It is improbable that a guilty man should
volunteer to surrender to the plaintiff or his
friend the alleged clandestine letters of the
existence of which they had no knowledge,
and no means of knowledge.   Yet, gentlemen, they  have  introduced  before  you
some evidence of the secret correspondence,
as they choose to call it, betwveen Mrs.
Tilton and Mr. Beecher.   It was very secret
indeed.  Where  are the  letters produced
from; where are they brought from into the
Court to testify against Henry Ward Beecher?
Why, fromn the archives of Francis D. Moulton. And how did they come there? Why,
Henry Ward Beecher delivered them to him.
Do you  think, gentlemen, that if he had
thought this a guilty correspondence, and
they did not know of it, would nriot he have
kept those letters to himself, or silently destroyed them and placed them beyond existence?  Would he have gone and deposited
them where they could be produced against
him?  The very fact that he did it, I submit,
is evidence conclusive  that the thought of
guilt was not in his mind.
r  MY DeA}o HUSBAND: I have just retu rne d from
Mattie's. Have the bust. Love it, &c. Oh, Theodore, darling I I am haunted night and day by the
remorse of knowing that because ot my harshness
and indifference te you, you were driven to despair,
and perhaps sin, and these last years of unhappiness. "
Suppose this letter had been written by
Mrs. Tilton after the alleged act of crime,
how the changes would be rung on that
phrase!  How my eloquent friend would expatiate on         that s nentence, an d  he w ould  ask
you what is the unpardonable sin of the
wife. What is it but adultery; what can it
be but adultery. And yet the sin of which
she is here speaking is the sin of harshness
to her husband, uncharitableness, and illtemper.
"    and God cannot forgive me; but if you only
may be restored to your former loveliness, I shall
be content to live my life in penance, yea, in disgrace. I am the chief of sinners. I understand
perfectly how you have felt. I carry in my soul this
burden black of sin."
Is      there any  such    language i  n Mr. Beecher's                 letters,      notwithstanding  his sorrow, notwithstanding  the  woe an    d wretchedness that
these men in flicted  on him for four years,
notwithstanding t      he f  act that he did wtlk on
the rough and ragged edge of life for four
long years-is there any such general language
in his letters as this woman has used to describe the mere, most venial offenses in household life? And Icould turn you, gentlemen,
a                 nd my  assoc iates will,          to letters of Theodore
Til to n      himself,   wri tten during  thi s v ery period, that fall but very little below the exaggerated language which I have read from
his wife.  He, too, uses the word "remorse."
With him life has been a failure and blight.
1 am quoting the language of his letters,
long before anly charge of this description is
miooted, in 1867 and'8. His language, I repeat, is as strong as Mr. Beecher's, as strong
as the plaintiff's wife's, nearly.
You see, gentlemen, the necessity that they
felt, the pressure that they were under of attempting to explain their own letters. Theo
Again, it is impossible that a guilty man
should communicate his guilt to a woman,
to ask her how to conceal it, and that ne
87
crime, aiid certainly that sh,-, had never committed it. She is referring to the ordinary
sins, the ordinary diffiCUILies between husband and wife, and now I want you to see
how she described it:
There is the word - remorse," used in connectioti with harshness, merely, barsh words,
hai-sh language; and yet they say that the
word 11 remorse," ia Mr. Beecher't3 letter,
means adultery, cannot mean anvthing else
than adultery, for what could a m,,tn have
remorse for except for the ci-ime of adultery?
"I sometimefj feel it to be the unpardonable sin."
IMPROBABILITIES OF THE PLAINTIFF'S
STORY. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
guilty of adultery, invited her to  come to
his church that she might hear him preach;
but I think you will rather believe that if
any such thing were true, Henry Ward Beecher would go a thousand miles to avoid preaching and looking such a woman as that in the
face.  Then they introduce letters also, showing that Beecher was anxious to see Mrs. Tilton at church too; it would be such a sat
isfaction for him to see his poor victim, whom
he had ruined, and whose family he had shattered, in his presence on Sunday,  when  he
w as invoking the blessings of God upon him self and his congregation!
There is another fact in regard  to  Mrs.
Mou'ton to which I desire also to  call your
attention, one of the improbabilities in this
case, and that is, she says she  urged upon
him to go down to his church and confess,
and said his church would forgive him  and
s tandby him, and Frank would standby him;
and she would be his friend also; and yet, in
the same breath she tells you that she used to
say to Henry Ward  Beecher:  "How  can I
receive communion at your hands, knowing
of your guilt? Ican't; but you go down and
tell those 3,000 men and women at Plymouth
Church that you are covered all over with
the leprosy of adultery and falsehood, and
they will forgive you, and they will stand by
you, and they wili receive communion at
your hands, and I and Frank will be your
friends."
Again, gentlemen, I have shown you that
in the correspondence of the 7th ot February,
1871, Mr. Beecher commended to Mr. Tilton
his wife, and expressed the hope that Tilton
would love her with even more than the old
love.   Is it probable   that  a man  who  h ad
seduced another   man's wife wou ld  write   a
letter to the dearest friend of that man and
express such a monstrous idea as that the
fact that he had debauched the woman should
be a reason why the husband should love
her better than ever before?
All this shows you, gentlemen, that these
parties were not talking about adultery, but
were talking about these complicated family
transactions-this supposed alienation of Mrs.
Tiltoh's affections, this leaving her husband,
and threatening to separate from him, and
this businessd ifficulty, which had become so
complicated that it could hardly be unraveled.
Again, we say that it is improbable that a
guilty man  should demand investigation,
when it was resisted by his accusers. And
yet we have the word of Mrs. Moulton, gives
in evidence here, that her husband was outraged and offended at Mr. Beecher because
he had demanded an investigation; and you
see how boldly even this woman  makes this
man meet this charge. He tells her: " They
cannot convict me." He tells her: "They
may do their worst; I am going to be free."
Is it probable, if he had been guilty, he would
should  express his gratification  a t her  h  av   ing
communicated   his guilt to other persons.
That     is           an  o    ther remarkable feature of this
case. Here was Mr. Beecher, they say,  pos sessed  of a secre    t        whic h was crush ing him,
a secre   t wh ich he   knew  if it w as ever exposed          would  be his ruin, a secret                  which they say
he was continually mov           ing He aven and earth
to c     on ceal, and yet, it is                      a remarkable fact,
gentlemen, that whenever one of these parties has told ano t    h         er ofthser   a that secret and    that
fact has been  communicated to Mr.  Beecher
h       e         has  always  expressed       the high est pleasure
and  gratification                 because it  has been thus
co mmunicated.  He had told Moulton                               the
secret,    they say,  and in 1871 Moulton  told his
wife,       and   when she spoke t      o   h     i     m and said,
" Frank has told    me  about i  t,"   why,   Beehe               r
wasglad Frank had  told her         about         it. He
had 0eenstruggl ing fo r a year      r  a  n        d over to
keep                his secret      and to keep it safe, and when
he found that a woman had   got         i           t how glad
he was!  [Laufhter.]  It would   certainly be
kept now.  If men could           not keep it, she
could; and so he was gratified to learn th                      at
at l     east o ne   woman knew  his secret.                     They
say he was glad of it, because he w        an      ted so
much to have some woman to whom he
could converse on the subject; and yet, learning it in 1871, the first conversation she refers to be tw een  him  and her                        on the subject
was in 1878, tw       o  y   ears    afterward.  But, to
help Beecher keep his secret, she went and
told the Robinson family of it, a pretty numerous family in this city, and when she communicated the fact to Beecher that she had
told the Robinson family of it, why, Beecher
was so glad thjat Robinson knew it! [Laughter.] It would enable him to meet Robinson so much better. He had been going
down to Robinson's office day after day, and
having long interviews with Moulton, and
Robinson didn't know what it meant, and
Beecher knew he didn't know what it meant,
and therefore, he felt sort of guilty going
and having an interview with a man's paltnet', when all the firm didn't know what he
was talking about, and he was 8o glad when he
learned that the next time that he went down
to Robinson's office the whole firm would
know that he had come there to talk about
his adultery with Mrs. Tilton!
You may believe all these improbabilities,
gentlemen, but I don't think you will.
My associate suggests to me another remarkable fact of this case.  Atter Mr. Beecher knew that Mrs. Moulton knew his secret
and knew that he had been guilty of adultery,
he was anxious for Mrs. Moulton to come to
church.  It would be such a gratification for
him to see in his congregation at least one
woman who knew when he was preaching
that he was a libertine and seducer. You
mlay believe, gentlemen, that Henry Ward
Beechlef, knowing that-a womban knew him
88
i 
INFIRMIITIES OF THE PLAINTIFF'S EVIDENCE.
have been the man insisting upon an investigation while his accusers were struggling to
prevent it?
It is imp robab    le t   hat the husband, having
reas     on, in good faith, to believe his wife
guilty, should c o            ntinue, without interruption,
to cohabit      wi  th her.  Yet  it is                 c     onceded he
did-not for six months, gentlemen, but for
four years. It        is  improbable  t hat t he wif          e
should  put in   writing, or             that the husband
should  consent to her doing s o,               a            confession
and charge again                          st the paramour,  and  that
t he husband should  use  it   for the purp ose of
aiding in  his extrication from a         nother difficulty.   And ye t it is conceded that                           this
statement  of w    ha        t they claim was    her confession, orme    her s ta temen, or her accusation,
what ever  it is called, was o btaine  d        from   her
by        the husban  d  to be used, and was used,
touching a business difficulty.
It       is   improba ble  that t he hu sband should
c    ommun ica  te h   is wife's guilt to third persons, for the purpose of securing its concealment.  It                     is improbable   that the husband
should forgive  the paramour    and meet                wit        h
him        s     ocially at dinner-tables and            receptions,
and receive affe ctionate salutations from him.
It is s   aid somew  here,    gentlemen, that I, in
some conversati       on,      t old Mr. Tilton that the
world would never forgive him for having
taken back his wife. All that I have to say
about       tha t is, Mr.                Tilton is mistaken. What I
said to Mar. Tilton was         in t he  summer       of 1874,
and not in'72        or'73.  In t he summ er of'74,
when  he waes  about to                         b ring a charge  of
adultery against Mr. Beecher, I said, " Mr.
Tilton, the world will never forgive you for
having been the friend of the man you
claim to be the seducer of your wife." It
was for taking back to friendship the man,
and not the woman.
It is improbable that the husband should
destroy the original charge. And yet they
come here saying, gentlemen, confessing that
they have destroyed the original charge on
which they accused Henry Ward Beecher on
the night of the 30th of December. They do
not produce it; they pretend it is destroyed.
We say that it is improbable that the most
important document of all these should have
been destroyed, if it ever existed, and if it
would do anything but damn their present
case, if presented.
It is improbable that the husband should
Diake successive threats of disclosure, and constantly advise the paramour to remain silent.
It is improbable that the husband, if he
believed his wife's guilt, should declare her
to be pure.
It is improbable that he should delay to
sue for over four years, upon what he now
alleges as the true and original charge,
while he has been confessedly in the interim
manipulating a false or garbled charge
against the defendant.
Now, as to the infirmities of the plaintiffs
evidence.  The defendant's own writings ad
duced against him, none of them expressly
indicate guilt, and, as read in the light of the
circumstances which will be proved by the
defendant, they point to innocence.  All the
other evidence adduced by the plaintiff is infected by every infirmity known to the law.
The testimony is of oral admissions, which
are  of themselves  notoriously  unreliable.
Such alleged admissions require corroboration, and the corroboration must be of facts
pointing to guilt.  No such facts have been
thus far adduced.  The willful destruction of
documents  impairs  the  credibility of the
story.  The witnesses have given contradictory accounts.  They admit that, gentlemen.
Moulton and Tilton both tell you upon the
witness  stand  that they have been lying
about this case for four years, and you will
remember the reply of my associate to Moulton,  "We  have your word for that when
you say you have been lying."  Certain it is
that they have been asserting the innocence
of Mr. Beecher for four years. Now they assert his  guilt.  The  reas o n the y give  for i tthat  Mou lton  give s for it-is,   that at  the
tim e  he was asser ting Mr. Beechep's in nocence
he -regarded himself  as a friend of Beecher.
Now that he is the enemy of Beecher, and
the party more involved in this case, and
lhaving more to lose in it than any other but
Mr.  Beecher, he asserts  Beecher's guilt;
and the only question you have got to determine is whether a man who has lied four
years for a friend, by his own confession, will
lie one year for himself. The witnesses Tilton and Moulton have both repeated their own
falsifications. The witnesses Tilton and Moulton have shown themselves to have been in
constant confederacy throughout their dealings with the defendant. I call your attention to this fact, gentlemen, that it is proved
from the witness stand that while Moulton
had secured, and gained, and held the confidence of,,Beecher as no other man ever held
the confidence of another, while he was professing to be a friend, acting for him, protecting iiim in this matter, you have it from
his own mouth that, with but a single exception, all the papers and documents that he
ever presented to Beecher in this connection
for four years, were written by Tilton himself, or prepared in Tilton's presence-all save
one, and that was the letter I read to you
this morning-the letter of June 1st, 1873,
gentlemen.
That letter Moulton says he wrotein Tilton's absence; Tilton was not present; and
you see what sort of a letter he does write
when away from Tilton. Do you believe
that if Tilton had been present  qlhen that
~d. ~ 
e f
89
INFIRRITLES OF THE 1'LAINTIFF'S
EVIDENCE. 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
letter was prepared, any such careless phrase
as "I know  you can stand  if the whole
case were published to-morrow "-do you believe that if Tilton had been present dictating the letter, such a clause as that would
have crept into it?  Oh! no.  Mr.  Tilton
knew the force of words too well to commit
such an indiscretion as that.  The letter was
written  in Tilton's absence  by  Moulton,
the shrewd  aetor  but  poor writer;  and
it is the only important one in this case for
four years that Moulton presented to Beecher
that Tilton had not himself composed, or in
the composition of which he had not been
present, taking part.
The witness Mrs. Moulton has shown that
she was a party to their design to bring an
action at the time when they were still pretending to be the friends of the defendant,
and when Moulton was still claiming to hold 
the defendant's letters in trust for the protection of each party against the other.  Do
you remember the important evidence, gentlemen, that fell from the lips of Mr. Moulton's wife upon the stand, that on the 13th
day of July, while Mr. Moulton says he was
professing to be the friend of Henry Ward
Beecher, while lie was claiming to hold these
letters in trust for him, for the benefit of
both parties. there having been between him
and Beecher no break, no breach at that
time, she tells you she told Beecher  they
were going to sue him  in a court of law?
How came this woman to be possessed of that
fact, gentlemen?  She tells you that she
knew as early as that time that she was
to be  a  witness  against  Henry  Ward
Beecher, and  she  was not  to be a witness befiore  the Investigating  Committee.
Tow came she in the possession of that informa'ion?
This " Mutual Friend," protecting Beecher
from Tilton and yet refusing to give Mr.
teecher  his  documents,   this  man  who
had for four years betrayed every one of
teecher's secrets to his most deadly enemy,
ihe moment they came to his possession —
~his man's wife knew days and weeks
before   th     ere was   anv   pr etended  breach
between  Moulton and Beecher, when Moulton  was  still  soliciting  and   still  re0eiving the confidence of    thi s defendant -his
wife knew that he was to be sued at law and
the was to be a witness. No conspiracy here,
]entlemen! No  confederacy           between                these
men! Nothfa ing but sincere and honest friend-hip from Moulton to Beecher! There has
o little piece of evidence accidentally droped from the witness stand during this long
',rial that has the significance that that acci:lental and unthought of remark which that
woman let fall in your presence has. It
tamps the conduct of these parties, and disloses the  malice and  organized  plotting
which had been going on between them for
4
Gentlemen, the charge of incontinence
which is broughat  a gain st this defendant is
not a new or unifamiliar  charge against clergymen.   It is the  common  method of  w   arfare.  There  is no accusat ion to wh i ch    a cler -
gyman is so   much    expos ed; an  enemy  i hat
desires to do him a deadly injury has no point
from which to strike with such deadly e  ffec t
as the charge of infideli ty i   n marital relations.
That charge, whether there is guilt or not, is
almost sufficient to blast the  u sefulness of
an y  cler gyma n, however respected  and however beloved. But Mr. Beecher is not the
first eminent clergyman that has been called
upon to face such a persecution as this. It
was by means of such an accusation that the
enemies of St. Athanasius sought to destroy
the great champion of the orthodox faith.
It was by such means that the name of St.
Francis de Sales was kept under a cloud for
four years, during which he maintained the
same silence for which my client is so sharps
ly criticised. It was upon such a charge thathe ruin of the illustrious Fenelon, Archbish
op of Cambray, was attempted. It was under such arn imputation that the " judicious
Hooker," one of the brightest lights in the
English Church, remained  "dumb as the
dead," though innocent as a babe, for six
years of bitter anguish. It was such a charge,
spread broadcast over England, that John
Wesley,  the  man who  of all Protestants
most nearly approached to the spirit and labors of the Apostle Paul,suffered to pass without any public rep]y for twenty years. And,
by a yet more remarkable coincidence, it was
by means of an insinuation that he had made
improper advances that a persecution was
kindled against him in Georgia, which resulted in driving him out of this country under the ban of an indictment.  Who  envies
the memory of the jury which found that
indictment? Where is John  Causton, the
magistrate who inspired the prosecution?
He is pilloried forever in a few lines of Wesley's biography, and escapes oblivion only
because the unsullied and ven-erated name of
the man whom he thought he had crushed
makes it impossible for him to escape infamy.
In the discharge of  my  duty, I have laid
before you, gentlemen, so much of this case
as, to the best of my ability, I could put into
words. But the deepest truth that underlies
it is beyond adequate expression  by  feeble
words of mine; nor, I think, could any single
90
months, for the final overthrow and ruin of
this defendant.
HISTORIC PARALLELS TO THIS CASE.
I
i
THE VALUE OF ESTABLISHED CHIR                ACTER. 
THE VALUE OF ESTABLISHED CHARACTER.
tongue set forth the nature and the power of  persecution, "Thus far shalt thou come, but
that influence, which radiates throughout the  no farther-here all the midnight plottings
world and time, and beyond the grave, from  of cruel craft must cease forever."
the glowing centre of a good man's life.    I ask of you for this defendant nothing but
There are facts which are not spoken from  that justice which you would mete out to the
lip to ear, but from heart to heart.  There is humblest citizen; yet you cannot but feel, as
a treasure at stake, inll comparison with which   I do, an overwhelming sense of the solemn
even the good name of one innocent man and  importance of this trial.  It will loom larger
one innocent woman,  however sacred and  in history that any which has taken place for
precious this may be, is of trivial worth; I  eighteen centuries.  No man of this defendmean the principle of the value of established   ant's fame  has ever been called upon  to
character.   What is the use of an honorable  answer such a charge in a court of justice.
life if it is no barrier against false accusation;  What a spectacle has been presented in this
if, in the face of foul conspiracy, its prayers  city of churches! Every day for eight weeks
and labors, generosities and heroisms are to  this aged man, who has been a large and
be counted as worse than nothing-merely  various contributor to the literature of the
the disguises of a rotten hypocrisy?          English tongue, and who never wrote a word
Against this most dangerous infidelity of  that was not inspired by the love of God, of
our time, one grand protest has been made.  nature, and of  his fellow-men;  who  has
Three thousand men and women of Plymouth  swayed with sublimest eloquence greater mulChurch have presented to this community a  titudes than any living orator, and who never
spectacle unparalleled of faith in goodness and  spoke save for justice, truth and virtue; who
in God.   These people are your fellow-citi-  has convinced, rescued, instructed and comzens,  gentlemen;    virtuous,  industrious,  forted  unnumbered  thousands  of erring,
practical, sensible as yourselves.   They love  struggling, suffering souls, counting his own
their wives and daughters;  they cherish the  life,  fortune  and  reputation as  nothing,
purity of their households. Foremost among  if by  their  risk  or  sacrifice  he  could
you inevery workof charity; earnest, sincere,  serve  the  humble  and  the  weak;  this
good friends, good neighbors, good citizens,  man,   whose  fame  encircles  the  earth
they stand and have  stood through many   and  whose  name  is  honored   and  bemonths unshaken in their confidence around  loved wherever Christianity bears sway, has
the p stor whom they love. And this they do  been dragged by malignant conspirators into
because they know him-because for thirty  this Court  to answer the vile and odious
years they have looked through his clear  charge, which all the evidence of a lifeeyes into his transparent soul-because his  time outside of these walls, no less than the
infliience upon them and their children has  evidence produced within them,brands indelibeen pure and wholesome —because he has  bly as a lie   Day by day he has passed along
tauzl t them  from  lips that  repeated the  our streets with his brave and true wife, to
word. of the Ma ter and by a life that reflect-  meet the unmerited  indignity of this ared the example of the Master to fear God and  raignment.   Strong men have been touched
to abhor evil.  This multitude of witnesses  with mingled pity and wrath at the sight,
bear testimony to the value of a good man's  and women have turned aside to weep.  It is
character, as read in a good nian's life.  And  an outrage  which  posterity will  avenge.
it is the lesson of the value of character  This fair city will yet boast among her proud which you, gentlemen, are called to impress  est monuments the statue of him  who  con upon the world.  It will be seen, that al-  ferred upon her such glory,  and received
though this city contained men vile enough  within her gates such torture.   All who had
to assail with perjured lips the spotless repu-  part in this crowning drama of his life will be
tation of our noblest citizen, there were also  remembered with execration or with praise.
found in it those whose firm faith in him  Those who falsely accused, those who weakly
could not be shaken by ingenious lies, and a  doubted,  those cowards  who forsook him,
jury of honest, just and fearless men to stand  those who were swift to believe evil, on the
like a rock against the tide of slander.       one  side;  and, on the  other, those  who
You will save Brooklyn, already too much  steadfastly trusted, and those, gentlemen of
disgraced by the existence of such a scandal,   the jury, who justly judged.
from the far greater disgrace of permitting    Yes, gentlemen, by the judgment which
such a man to be destroyed by such  instru-  you here pronounce, you will yourselves be
mnentality —an eagle towering in his pride of  judged at the tribunal of after ages.   What
place,  hawked  at and killed by mousing  you do here will never die.   When  these
owls! You will tell the American people that  scenes shall have passed away; when he who
when innocence is assailed by unscrupulous  presides over this trial shall rest in the silent
and cunning malice, however successful for a  chambers  of the dead; when the seats you
tinme the assault may seem, it must find its  occupy shall be filled by your children, or
barrier when it reaches an American jury. your children's children, strangers from dis And you will say to this heartless and ungodly   tant climes will come to view the place from
91 
OPENING FOR THE DEFENSE.
which was given back to the world, freed from
cloud or passing shadow, the nabne of Henry
Ward  Beecher.  Even when  centuries shall
have rolled away, when  these marble walls
shall have crumbled and decayed, this trial
will be remembered with undiminished intercst.  More eloquent than the words of this
defendant, more inspiring than his deeds of
magnanimity,  more powerful  among  men
than the story of all his life of usefulness and
virtue, will be the recital of his serene faith
and patience under dire affliction and deadly
assault.  Heroes are admired; it is the martyrs who are beloved.  Not the triumphal
procession and the loud hosanna, but the cup,
the  thorn-crown, the cross,  the sepulchre,
conquered the world; and since the iourh
92
of the Divine Sufferer no follower of Christ
has borne the cross in vain.
Gentlemen, do you believe in God? Then
you will recognize to-day what the generations to come will so clearly see; what the
Day of Revelation will blaze forth in letters
of immortal light-the mark of God's approval upon this, His faithful, upright, suffering
servant, whom He hath hitherto guided, sustained and blessed; whom in the hour of
tribulation He hath not forsaken; and whom,
by all the truth of His eternal promise and
all the resources of His Almighty power, He
will surely rescue and reward; for " Though
hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be
unpunished, but the seed of the righteous
shall be delivered." [Applause.]
#I
i 
THE OFFICIAL EDITION.
THE CASE OF
TILTON vs BEECtHEs
PREPARED BY
ORDER OF THE COURT,
And with the consent of the respective Attorneys engaged in the trial, on the
basis of the Official Stenographer's Report.
EDITED BY
_A. BBROT,
And compiled under his immediate supervision.  Vol. I. ready in a few days.
8vo.  Sheep.  Price, $4.50; Cloth, $4.00.
THE OFFICIAL EDITION
Of this celebrated trial is being prepared with great care, and will contain
FINE ENGRAVINGS of the Court, Counsel, Plaintiff, Defendant, and some of
the important witnesses, BIOGRAPIIiCAL SKETCHES of Theodore Tilton, H. W.
Beecher, and the eminent Counsel engaged in the trial
A HISTORY OF THE CASE.
The preliminary proceedings, and all the formal documents connected
with the same.  Speeches and arguments of counsel.  The trial fully reported,
with NOTES aid REFERENCES by the editor.
The publishers call attention to the fact that this is the ONLY AUTHORIZEI,
AND OFFICIAL EDITION, and the ONLY ONE reporting the trial in full, containing ALL the important arguments and formal matter in the hands of the
OFFICIAL STENOGRAPHER of the Court. which will not appear in any other
edition.
Some of the matter having appeared in the public prints, will undoubtedly call forth cheap editions, hastily collected, and issued more as a sensational
than strictly legal production.
This edition will be issued as promptly as the careful revision of the
Stenographer's manuscript and the insertion of the editorial matter will permit.
The publishers, believing this important trial should be issued in a form
to be preserved, will spare no expense in making this edition compare both in
style and workmanship, with the leading legal publications of this country.
Fiom the Alba)y Law Journal, January 23, 1875.
"The official edition of the Tilton-Beecher trial is to be published by
GEORGE W'. SMITH & Co., law  booksellers and importers, No. 95  Nassau
Street, New York. This will undoubtedly be a publication much sought after.
This trial will be of extraordinary professional a~ well as p)ublic interest. The
eminence and ability of the counsel employed, the peculiar legal issues involved,
the important questions of evidence, and the brilliant tactics employed in conducting the offense and defense-all will go to make up one of the most interesting and valuable records ever produced in a court of justice."
GEORGE WV. SMITH & CO.,
LAW PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS,
95 Nassau Street (Bennett Building),
NEW YORK CITY.
Tj-sr-vlln
P. 0. Box 4170. 
v