CHAPTER XXIV.

The Conspiracy—Relations with Mr. Bowen—Disputes and Arbitration—Theodore Tilton’s Early Promise and Intimacy with Mr. Beecher—Bowen’s Ill-Will and Tilton’s Malice—Tilton discharged from _Independent_ and Brooklyn _Union_—Tripartite Agreement—Moulton and Tilton conspire to Blackmail Mr. Beecher—Tilton consults Dr. Storrs.

While it will not be possible in the space of a volume such as this, nor at all desirable if it were possible, to go to any considerable extent into the details of that experience in Mr. Beecher’s life, commonly called “the Scandal,” yet no biography would be complete or truthful which ignored this period.

Therefore, while we avoid all those details likely to offend against a rational public sentiment, we shall try to give such an outline of the general facts as may be necessary for a clear understanding of this monstrous conspiracy.

To do this we must necessarily go back to the beginnings, some of which exerted a powerful influence on subsequent events. In 1856 Mr. Beecher was invited to become a contributor to the _Independent_, then published and controlled by Henry C. Bowen and his partner, Mr. McNamee. This was accepted, and in November of that year a contract was made between them to that effect.

This contract, with a few subsequent modifications, remained in force until the year 1860, when a new one was made by which Mr. Beecher became the editor-in-chief, Theodore Tilton, his assistant, relieving him wholly of the office routine work. Mr. Tilton was at this time a young man with the promise of a brilliant future before him. Determining upon journalism and public speaking as his profession, he sought to familiarize himself with the speeches and writings of those most prominent in his chosen field. Early in the “Fifties” he began reporting Mr. Beecher’s sermons for the _Observer_. This led to an acquaintance between them.

Tilton, though scarcely more than a boy, was even then very clever. His bright speeches, his boyish enthusiasm in following out the high purposes he had formed, the really manly aspirations he then felt, and, above all, his sunny disposition, soon won for him a very warm place in Mr. Beecher’s heart, which he only lost years later, when his uncontrollable egotism and vanity—the mildew of precocity—worked his destruction, wrecking his reputation, his morals, and his life.

Mr. Beecher delighted in aiding and promoting him, seeking by wise counsels to strengthen every good quality and to hold in check every malign tendency, advancing him as rapidly as possible in his profession. All this Mr. Tilton fully recognized, writing Mr. Beecher, a short time before he began his plotting:

“MY FRIEND: From my boyhood up you have been to me what no other man has been, what 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; by you married; 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 of opportunity for labor, my public reputation—all these, my dear friend, I 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.”

Early in their intimacy Tilton left the _Observer_ and joined his fortunes to the _Independent_.

Through the affection and influence of his friend he was advanced steadily, until, in the fall of 1860 or early 1861, he was made assistant editor. In the spring of 1861 occurred an incident that was to produce ultimately no little trouble.

Mr. Beecher had from time to time bought, from Mr. Bowen’s dry-goods store, various articles to be sent to the Brooklyn Phalanx, a regiment largely enrolled from the youths and friends of Plymouth Church, and in which Mr. Beecher’s eldest son was an officer. These purchases were charged against Mr. Beecher’s salary account. In May, 1861, Mr. Bowen claimed that Mr. Beecher’s account had been very greatly overdrawn, by goods purchased and money drawn out. The matter was finally arbitrated, the arbitrator awarding Mr. Bowen $1,000, which was paid.

Whether it was the failure to receive all that he expected, or some other and unknown grievance, we cannot say, but from about this time began a feeling of hostility on the part of Mr. Bowen, which a few years later, after Mr. Beecher had finally left the _Independent_, took shape in scandalous whisperings behind Mr. Beecher’s back, but always so carefully guarded as not, at that time, to reach his ears.

In 1863 Mr. Beecher made his memorable visit to England. During his absence he arranged to have Mr. Tilton take the entire editorial charge of the _Independent_. In this the latter did so well, that in February, 1864, Mr. Beecher, being then in need of relief from the care and responsibility of his position, made a new arrangement with Mr. Bowen, whereby Mr. Tilton was to be retained as editor-in-chief, Mr. Beecher contributing editorially and by “Star articles” (his articles were unsigned, but marked with * at the foot, hence the name); the publication of his sermons and lecture-room talks being continued, his name remaining for a year as one of the editors. After one year Tilton was to be announced as the actual editor-in-chief.

In 1865, then, Theodore Tilton found himself at the head of one of the most influential papers in the land; for the _Independent_, though a religious paper, had, largely through the controversies on slavery, war, and other important topics carried on by Mr. Beecher in its columns, acquired a reputation and influence, in general public affairs, that was equalled by no other journal of its kind.

Soon Mr. Tilton’s inordinate conceit began to manifest itself. He was to supersede, in influence, his patron. From his lofty pedestal he could look down upon his old friend and adviser, dwarfed by comparison.

Already he had begun to entertain “advanced” ideas, repudiating as old-fogy and behind the times the principles and beliefs which he had received from his former instructor. Not content with his fancied overshadowing of Mr. Beecher, he began about this time to take part in Bowen’s campaign of scandalous whisperings; but when one of his tales came to Mr. Beecher’s ears he promptly denied it and assured Mr. Beecher that he had never said anything of the kind, that it was wholly false. This denial satisfied Mr. Beecher, who thought no more of the tale.

When in 1866 Mr. Beecher wrote his “Cleveland letters,” the _Independent_ assailed him so virulently, through its editorial columns, that he felt he could no longer be connected with it, even as a contributor, and thereupon terminated his contract and all further connection with the paper. This was a further aggravation in Mr. Bowen’s eyes, as it was likely to be a pecuniary loss to the paper, and so to him. Shortly after this Mr. Tilton began in the editorial columns of the _Independent_ to take a decidedly “advanced” stand upon religious and ethical subjects. His views began to savor very strongly of the atheistic, and he more than intimated a belief in theories, on the subject of marriage, that seemed hardly appropriate in the columns of a religious newspaper; so that when he published his “Editorial Soliloquy” in 1867, there broke out an indignant protest both from the East and West against such a use of the columns of the _Independent_. Tilton’s course, together with Bowen’s retention of certain objectionable advertisements, threatened serious injury to the paper. Steps were taken to start a new religious paper in Chicago, to supersede the _Independent_ in the West; at about the same time overtures were made to Mr. Beecher, to accept the control of a new paper to be started in New York. This alarmed Mr. Bowen, who at once promised to muzzle Tilton and prevent the publication of any more objectionable “views.” On this assurance the opposition to the _Independent_ was suspended. The contract was a larger one, however, than Bowen had anticipated. Tilton soon began anew ventilating his theories, and in December, 1870, wrote an editorial so pronounced in its advocacy of his peculiar views, that the public patience was exhausted. The _Advance_ was at once established in Chicago and became a formidable rival to the _Independent_, Dr. Edward Beecher, the elder brother of Henry Ward, being one of its promoters.

In the fall of 1869 the _Christian Union_ was organized in New York City, and in January, 1870, Mr. Beecher took control of it. Bowen was in despair. Here were two dangerous rivals to his paper. He was afraid to discharge Tilton; he had said too much in his presence to care to offend him. He must in some way, however, get Tilton out of the editorial chair of the _Independent_. After some negotiation he arranged with Tilton that he should resign the editorship of the _Independent_, and a new contract was made by which he should take the editorship of the Brooklyn _Union_ for five years, at five thousand dollars a year, and should be the chief contributor to the _Independent_, receiving a further five thousand dollars therefor. This change was effected on the 20th of December, 1870, and on the 22d his valedictory was published in the _Independent_. Up to the year 1870 Tilton could hardly be said to have been hostile to Mr. Beecher, certainly in no such sense as he was during the following year. At this time he looked upon him as his mental and social inferior, and not infrequently spoke of him patronizingly, as one whom he had outgrown, bestowing upon him a sort of affectionate pity because he had been cast in a mould so much smaller than his own. It is true that, in that kind of “strictest confidence” which always insures a quiet circulation, he whispered stories, from time to time, derogatory to Mr. Beecher’s reputation, but these were born of his vanity, rather than of malice. He was still able to see that his own vagaries did not meet with public favor. He felt that he was a little ahead of his times, and it might benefit him to saddle similar theories upon Mr. Beecher. He probably had no intention of doing an injury, at least at that time. With Mr. Bowen, however, it was different. Mr. Beecher’s resignation first from the editorship, and then as contributor, and withdrawing his sermons from the _Independent_, was an injury in his eyes for which Tilton’s appointment did not compensate, and seemed to intensify that ill-will which had its origin at the time of the pecuniary misunderstanding, already referred to. And now, to have Mr. Beecher’s brother participate in starting the _Advance_ in Chicago, while he himself accepted the management of the _Christian Union_ in New York—a paper that sprang at once into a very large circulation, threatening to crowd the _Independent_ in the East as the _Advance_ promised to do in the West—this capped the climax. Bowen’s dislike was the more intense since there seemed no way in which he could assail Mr. Beecher with any hope of success. His whisperings necessarily had to be guarded, and his confidants did not seem inclined, or able, to give him much comfort.

This hostility Mr. Beecher was aware of, though little suspecting at the time its extent, attributing it to the fact that he had been obliged to withdraw from the _Independent_, and take a stand squarely opposed to its apparent policy. For he wrote to a friend: “It is well known that I am in a positive antagonism with the whole general drift of the paper. Mr. Bowen will scarcely recognize me on the street, and feels bitterly my withdrawal from all part or lot in the paper.”

By December, 1870, Tilton’s attitude had become decidedly hostile. His patronizing had now begun to change into fear. For he thought that Mr. Beecher might become a dangerous rival; and when finally he was retired from the editorship of the _Independent_ he felt sure that it was through some intentional and malign influence of Mr. Beecher. That his own conduct and expressed opinions were responsible for the change, his vanity would not permit him to think.

As soon as it was publicly known that Tilton had been deposed from the editorial chair of the _Independent_, the stories of his past life began to pour in on Mr. Bowen like a flood. The latter was alarmed and began to doubt the possibility of retaining him in any capacity.

The expression of this fear to mutual friends led to an interview between the two. Tilton characteristically mounted his high horse, and imperiously demanded an investigation and that he be confronted with his accusers. In a very few moments Mr. Bowen satisfied him that he was quite fully posted, and that an investigation was the last thing that he would desire.

Tilton then struck out on a new line of operations. Knowing Mr. Bowen’s fear and dislike of Mr. Beecher, intensified daily by the steadily increasing circulation of the _Christian Union_, Tilton cunningly began to suggest the great danger that threatened the _Independent_ from the _Christian Union_.

He struck the keynote to Bowen’s animosity, and, skilfully working on his feelings, he suggested that their mutual welfare demanded the overthrow of Mr. Beecher. Bowen was all attention. To destroy Mr. Beecher, and cripple the _Christian Union_, would be a wonderful stroke of good-fortune.

After referring to the injuries that Bowen had suffered at the hands of Mr. Beecher, he suggested that he, too, had a grievance against him. This was news to Bowen, who eagerly besought Tilton to tell him what it was. He then stated that Beecher had been guilty of “_improper proposals_” to his wife. Bowen was quick to discover the situation. This was the first tangible bit of evidence which had ever come to him against Mr. Beecher. He had never dared publicly father any of his own stories.

Now, if Tilton would attack Mr. Beecher on such a charge, he could stand by and watch the fight without becoming involved himself, but would be ready, from his safe point of vantage, to take profit by the result, whichever way it ended. If Tilton succeeded, so much the better. If he failed, he would be rid of him; and would not be responsible for the attack, which Tilton would both originate and carry on.

Mr. Bowen suggested to Tilton the writing of a letter to Mr. Beecher, which was written, calling on him to resign his pastorate, and leave Brooklyn. This Bowen was to carry to Mr. Beecher, which he did.[8]

Footnote 8:

We take the details of this interview from Tilton’s sworn testimony—very poor evidence by itself, but, as it has never been contradicted by Mr. Bowen, is consistent with many known facts; and as the fact of the interview was admitted by Mr. Bowen, we have given it place.

Mr. Tilton, returning home, reported to his friend Francis D. Moulton what he had done, and was informed that he had made “a ——— fool” of himself, that he had put himself in Bowen’s hands. At this point the conspiracy may be said to have been born. With the conspiracy proper, from this time out, Mr. Bowen seems to have had nothing to do. Both Tilton and Moulton distrusted him. While his hostility towards Mr. Beecher did not abate, and he was soon afterwards clearly recognized as a bitter enemy, yet we do not learn that he ever thereafter actively co-operated with the two arch-conspirators; for a short time after Tilton’s letter he professed to be friendly to Mr. Beecher.

The carrying of Tilton’s letter to Mr. Beecher, and the calling in of Moulton, were the starting-point of this conspiracy.

Bowen, as we shall see later, discharged Tilton from both the _Independent_ and the _Union_.

The latter was in desperate straits, and then it was that he and Moulton seemed to have come to the determination to try through Mr. Beecher to better Tilton’s fortunes. At the first it is highly improbable that either had any very definite plan of operations against Mr. Beecher, and certainly not the faintest idea of the desperate step they would finally be driven to by the logic of their own falsehoods. Little by little, deeper and deeper, they worked themselves into the mud and mire, until, as a last desperate venture, they were compelled to make the final plunge in the hope of forcing through to a solid footing. With this introduction we give Mr. Beecher’s account of this trouble in his own words, as written in 1874, when the facts were all fresh in his mind; condensing it somewhat to meet the requirements of our space, and omitting details which, though necessary then, need not now be gone into. This presents the history as he saw it, and shows how Moulton by cunning treachery wormed himself into Mr. Beecher’s confidence for the purpose of destroying him:

“Four years ago Theodore Tilton fell from one of the proudest editorial chairs in America, where he represented the cause of religion, humanity, and patriotism, and in a few months thereafter became the associate and representative of Victoria Woodhull and the priest of her strange cause. By his follies he was bankrupt in reputation, in occupation, and in resources. The interior history, of which I now give a brief outline, is the history of his attempts to so employ me as to reinstate himself in business, restore his reputation, and place him again upon the eminence from which he had fallen. It is a sad history, to the full meaning of which I have but recently awaked. Entangled in a wilderness of complications, I followed until lately a false theory and a delusive hope, believing that the friend who assured me of his determination and ability to control the vagaries of Mr. Tilton, to restore his household, to rebuild his fortunes, and to vindicate me, would be equal to that promise. This self-confessed failure has made clear to me what for a long time I did not suspect—the real motive of Mr. Tilton. My narrative does not represent a single standpoint only as regards my opinion of Theodore Tilton. It begins at my cordial intimacy with him in his earlier career, and shows my lamentation and sorrowful but hopeful affection for him during the period of his initial wanderings from truth and virtue. It describes my repentance over evils befalling him of which I was made to believe myself the cause; my persevering and finally despairing efforts to save him and his family by any sacrifice of myself not absolutely dishonorable; and my growing conviction that his perpetual follies and blunders rendered his recovery impossible. I can now see that he is and has been from the beginning of this difficulty a selfish and reckless schemer, pursuing a plan of mingled greed and hatred, and weaving about me a network of suspicions, misunderstandings, plots, and lies, to which my own innocent words and acts, nay, even my thoughts of kindness toward him, have been made to contribute.

“That I was blind so long to the real nature of the intrigue going on around me was due partly to my own overwhelming public engagements, partly to my complete surrender of this affair and all papers and questions connected with it into the hands of Mr. Moulton, who was intensely confident that he could manage it successfully. I suffered much, but I inquired little. Mr. Moulton was chary to me of Mr. Tilton’s confidences to him, reporting to me occasionally in a general way Mr. Tilton’s moods and outbreaks of passion only as elements of trouble which he was able to control, and as additional proofs of the wisdom of leaving it to him. His comment of the situation seemed to me, at the time, complete, immersed as I was in incessant cares and duties, and only too glad to be relieved from considering the details of such wretched complications, the origin and the fact of which remain, in spite of all friendly intervention, a perpetual burden to my soul. I would not read in the papers about it; I would not talk about it. I made Moulton for a long period my confidant and my only channel of information.

“From time to time suspicions were aroused in me by indications that Mr. Tilton was acting the part of an enemy; but these suspicions were repeatedly allayed by his own behavior towards me in other moods, and by the assurances of Mr. Moulton, who ascribed the circumstances to misunderstanding or to malice on the part of others. It is plain to me now that it was not until Mr. Tilton had fallen into disgrace and lost his salary that he thought it necessary to assail me with charges which he pretended to have had in mind for six months. The domestic offence which he alleged was very quickly and easily put aside, but yet in such a way as to keep my feelings stirred up, in order that I might, through my friends, be used to extract from Mr. Bowen $7,000, the amount of a claim in dispute between them. The check for that sum in hand, Mr. Tilton signed an agreement of peace and concord—not made by me, but accepted by me as sincere. The _Golden Age_ had been started. He had the capital to carry it on for a while. He was sure that he was to lead a great social revolution. With returning prosperity he had apparently no griefs which could not be covered by his signature to the articles of peace.[9] Yet the changes in that covenant, made by him before signing it, and represented to me as necessary merely to relieve him from the imputation of having originated and circulated certain old and shameless slanders about me, were really made, as now appears, to leave him free for future operations upon me and against me.

Footnote 9:

Tripartite agreement.

“So long as he was, or thought he was, on the road to a new success, his conduct toward me was as friendly as he knew how to make it. His assumption of superiority and magnanimity, and his patronizing manner, were trifles at which I could afford to smile, and which I bore with the greater humility since I still retained the profound impression made upon me as explained in the following narrative—that I had been a cause of overwhelming disaster to him, and that his complete restoration to public standing and household happiness was a reparation justly required of me, and the only one which I could make.

“But, with a peculiar genius for blunders, he fell almost at every step into new complications and difficulties, and in every such instance it was his policy to bring coercion to bear upon my honor, my conscience, and my affections, for the purpose of procuring his extrication at my expense. Theodore Tilton knew me well. He has said again and again to his friends that if they wished to gain influence over me they must work upon the sympathetic side of my nature. To this he has addressed himself steadily for four years, using as a lever, without scruple, my attachment to my friends, to my family, to his own household, and even my old affection for himself.

“Not blind to his faults, but resolved to look on him as favorably and hopefully as possible, and ignorant of his deeper malice, I labored earnestly, even desperately, for his salvation. For four years I have been trying to feed his insatiable egotism, to make the man as great as he conceived himself to be, to restore to popularity and public confidence one who, in the midst of my efforts in his behalf, patronized disreputable people and doctrines, refused when I besought him to separate himself from them, and ascribed to my agency the increasing ruin which he was persistently bringing upon himself, and which I was doing my utmost to avert. It was hard to do anything for such a man. I might as well have tried to fill a sieve with water. In the latter part of the history he actually incited and created difficulties, apparently for no other purpose than to drive me to fresh exertions. I refused to endorse his wild views and associates. The best I could do was to speak well of him, mention those good qualities and abilities which I believed him to possess in his higher moods, and keeping silent concerning the evil things which, I was assured and believed, had been greatly exaggerated by public report. I could not think him so bad as my friends