The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1874-08-15
pected me and showed me at once to Mrs.
Tilton's ROOM
THE INTERVIEW WITH MRS. TILTON.

THE INTERVIEW WITH MRS. TILToN.
r., Mrs: Tilton lay upon her bed white as mar
pie' WIN eyes closed as in a trance, and with
Ier nands upon her bosom, palm to palm, like
one IN prayer. As look back upon it, the pic
tnre is like some form carved in marble that L
had seen upon monuments in Europe She
inade no motion, and gave no sign of recogui-
eion OF my presence. l sat down near her and
sald: Elizabeth, Theodore has been making
very serious charges against me, and sent me to
you for confirmation She made no reply or
sign, yet it was plain that she was conscious
ana listening. | repeated some of his state
nents-that had brought discord to the fam
Iiy, had alenated her from him, had sought to
break up the family, had usurped his influence;
and then, as well as | could, | added that he
salu that mad made improper suggestions to
her and that she had admitted this fact to him
last July. said: elizabeth, have you made
such statements to him?' She made no an
swer L repeated the question. Tears ran
down her cheeks and she very slightly bowed
hes head in acquiescence. l said "You cannot
mean that you have stated all that he has
charged", She opened her eyes and began in
SLOW and feeble way to explain how sick she
mad been, how wearied out with importantly
mat he had confessed his own alien loves, ard
that he could not bear to think that she was
better than he; that she might win him to ref
ormaton il she would confess that she had
loved me more than him. and that they would
go OF with future concord. I-cannot give her
language, but only the tenor of her representa-
tons. l received them mpatiently. / spoke
to her in the shortest language of her course. I
sad to her: Have ever made any improper
advances to you?" She said ''NoS Then 1
asked her, why did you say TO your hus-
band2" "My friend {by that designation she
almost always called mel l am sorry but L
could not help it, What can do?' l told her
she could state in writing what she had now
told me.
THE ALLEGED EXroRrED DENIAL OF CRIMINAL
lrY.
She beckoned for her writing materials,
| Which handed her from the secretary, stand
ing near by, and she sat up in the bed and
| Wrote a brief counter statement. In sort of
postscrip she denied explicitly that had ever
offered any improper solicitation to her, that
| being the only charge made against me by Mr..
| Tilton, or sustained by the statement about the
| confession which she had read to me. I dreamed
| OF no worse charge at that time. That was
| horrible enough.
| MIR. BEEcHER's MENTAL ANGUISH
The mere thought that he conld have made
| it, and could have extorted any evidence on
which to base it, was enough to take away any
| mans sense. Neither my consciousness of ist
| utter falsehood nor Mrs. Tilton's retractions of
| her part in it, could remove the shock from my
| heart aud head An admission to me that she
had stated, under any circumstances, to her
| husband so wicked a fasehood was the crowo-
ing blow of all. 1t seemed to me as ii she was
| going to die; that her mind was overthrown
and that was in some dreadful way mixed up
in it. and might be left, by her death, with this
| terrible accusation hanging over me. /, like
| one in q dream, went to Mr.. Moulton's house.
where said very little, and soon went home
1t has been said that | confessed guilt and ex-
pressed remorse. This is utterly false. Is it
| likely that with Mrs. Titons retraction in nv
pocket, SHOULD have thus stultiied myself?
BEECHER REPRovED BY MoULToN.
| On the next day at eveninng Mr.. 'Moulton
| called at my house and came up iuto my bed
| room. He said that Mrs Tilton her hus-
| bands return to her after our interview bad in
| formed him what she had done, and that had
herlretractiop 'Moulton expostulated with me;
| he said retracton under the circumstances
would not mend matters, but only aw AIKEN
| fresh discord between husband and wife, and
I do great injury to Mrs. Tton without helping
| me- Mrs. Tlton, he said had already recanted
| in writing the retracton made to me, and of
| course there might be no end to these retrae-
| tions. Meanwhile TIlton had destroyed his
| wifes first letter acknowledging the confession,
| and Mr.. Moulton claimed that had taken
mean advantage, and made dishonorable use
of Theodore sIrequest that should visit her. in
| obtaining from her written contradiction to a
| to a document not in existence. He said that
all the difficulties could be settled without any
such paper, and that ought to give it up. He
| was under great excitement, He made no ver-
bal threat, but he opened his overcoat and with
| some emphatic gestures showed a pistol, which
| he afterward took out and left on the bureau
near which he stood. | gave the paper to him,
and after few moments talk he left Within |
IA day or two after this, Mr.. Mouton made Ine
| the third visit, and this time repaired to my
study in the third story of my house.
| MR. BEEcHER's GRIEF AT MRS. TILroN's CON-
DUCT.
Before speaking of this interview, it is with
| regret that l should allude TO the sulferings
| through which L had gone during the previous
| days, the cause Of which was the strange
| change in Mrs. Tilton. Nothing had seemed
to me more certain during all my acquaintance
,or fba,, hat cI,n
| truthful and honorable. Deceit seemed alb
solutely foreign to her nature, and yet she had
| stated to her husband those strange and awfnl
| falsehoods. She had not, when daily called
| and prayed with her, given the slightest hint,
| | will not say of such accusations; but even
that there were any serious family difficulties
She had suddenly, in December, called me and
| my wife to consultation as to possible sep
aration from her husband. still leaving me
| ignorant that she had just put into bis hands
| weapon against me. was bewidered with
| double consciousness of q sanity woman
| communicating a very needless treachery to
her friend and pastor,
| HIS PITY AND GRIEF.
My distress was boundess. did for a mo-
| ment feel, however, that she was to blame en-
| tire!y, as would ordinarily be thought but sup
| pose she had been everborne by sickness and
| shattered in mind, until she scarcely knew what
| she did, and was no longer responsible for her
| acts. My soul went out to her in pity L
| sight, for thought that all this had been the
result of her undue aft ection for me. had
| profound feeling that would bear any blame
| and take any punishment if that poor child
| could only emerge from this cloud aud be put
| back into the happiness from whcn l had been,
| [ thought, if not the cause, yet the occasion of
| withdrawing her. If my own daughter had
been in similar case my grief at her calamity
| could scarcely have been more.
HIS ALARM AT THE THREATENED DISASTER
| Unprecedented that this charge m ade by Til
| tou and supported by the accusation of his wife
was to be at once publicly pressed against me,
| and if it was had nothing but my simple
| word of denial to interpose against it. In my
| then morbid condition of mind, l thought
that this charge, although entirely untrue
! might result in great disaster, if not in abso
/ lutte ruin The great interests which were en-
| trely dependent on me, the church which had
| built up, the book which was writing my
| own immediate family; my brothers name, now
| engaged in the ministry; my sisters name,
| which had hoped might live after me, and be
| of some slight degree source of strength 10
| those who should succeed me, and above all the
| cause for which | had devoted my life, seemed
imperied. 1t seemed to me that my life-worll
was to end abruptly, and in disaster. My earn
| est desire to avoid public accusation, and the
| evils which must necessarily flow from it, and
which now have resulted from it, have been
one of the leading motives that must explain
| my action during these three or four years with
| reference to this matter.
| WHAT 'OUR MUTUAL FRIEND HAS DONE.
| 1t was in suchs, sore and distressing condi-
| ton that Mr. Moulton found me; his manner
was kind and conciliatory; he seemed, however,
to be convinced that L had been seeking TIL
| toms downfall. That had leagued with Mr.
Bowen against him. and that L had by my ad
vice come near destroying his family. did not
need any argument or persuasion to induce me
| to do and say anything which would remedy
the injury of which then believed l had Ger
atnlxr hon ,Sin r,nf h, ,ofsx
cause. But Mr.. Moulton urged that the
wrong meant his means Of support suddenly
taken away, his reputation gone, his family de,
| stroyed, and that had done it, He assured
me of his own knowledge that the stories which
! l had heard of Mr.. Tilton's improprieties of
| lfe and which had believed aud repeated to
| Mr.. Bowen, were all false, and that Mr. Tilton
had always been faithful to his wife. 1
was persuaded into the belief of what he said,
and felt convicted of slander in its meanest
form. He drew the picture of Mr.. Titou,
wronged in reputation, in position; in purse,
shattered in his family, where he otherwise
] would have found a refuge and at the same