Notorious Victoria Page 11

  Isabella Beecher Hooker responded to The Tribune’s challenge in a letter to the Minnesota suffragist Sarah Burger Stearns saying, “The Tribune knows and so does every editor and reporter and reader that neither you nor I nor one of the prominent workers for suffrage believes in free lust (and the trouble with Mrs. W is she uses it with a meaning of her own different from this hateful one as she will some day explain I hope)—but they know as well that if they can frighten us into disavowing any sympathy with such a powerful woman as Mrs. W . . . then they have dealt a severe blow at the whole suffrage movement and set it back years.”

  NEW YORK CITY, MID-MAY 1871

  In the week following the Apollo Hall speech, whatever Victoria’s triumph, it was overshadowed by two family matters. One involved her own family and the other the very venerable Beecher clan. On May 15, 1871, Anna Claflin, Victoria’s eccentric (if not insane) mother, dragged Colonel Blood into court on charges that he had threatened to kill her. A headline in the Herald promised “Astonishing Revelations” and, indeed, there were many: “The preliminary examination in the matter of the complaint of Mrs. Annie Claflin vs. Colonel J. H. Blood, alias Dr. Harvey, was begun at Essex Market Police Court yesterday afternoon,” the Herald reported on May 16. “The notoriety of the parties involved render this an exceptional case, the complainant being the maternal progenitor and the defendant being the silent or ‘sleeping partner’ of the renowned banking house of Woodhull, Claflin & Co. in Broad Street, and attracted a large concourse of spectators to the otherwise uninviting precincts of the Essex Street Temple of Justice.”

  Victoria, the article said, was “conspicuous by her absence.” Also absent on that first day was Tennessee.

  Anna announced herself the “aggrieved party” and proceeded to relate her sordid story, as reported by the Herald: “The affidavit of the lady, upon which the proceedings were based, was substantially to the effect that the defendant had not only, by diverse wicked and magic arts and devices, alienated the affections of her charming, gifted and otherwise promising and devoted offspring, but had also threatened the life of herself and thereby caused her much unnecessary dread, anguish of mind and other discomfort. This the strong arm of the law alone could remove and enable her to resume the tranquility desirable to one of her advanced stage of life. She was desperately in earnest, and counsel on both sides vainly endeavored to restrict her within the bounds the law prescribed. Bursting through all barriers she gave the following as her story.

  “‘Judge,’ she said, ‘my daughters were good daughters and affectionate children till they got in with this man Blood’ (giving particular emphasis to Blood.) ‘He has threatened my life several times and one night last November he came into the house in Thirty-eighth street and said he would not go to bed till he had washed his hands in my blood.

  “‘I’ll tell you what that man Blood is. He is one of those who have no bottom in their pockets; you can keep stuffing in all the money in New York; they never get full up. If my daughters would just send this man away, as I always told them, they might be millionairesses and riding around in their own carriages. I came here because I want to get my daughter out of this man’s clutches; he has taken away Viccy’s [sic] affection and Jennie’s [sic] affection from poor old mother. S’help me God, judge, I say here and I call heaven to witness that there was the worst gang of free lovers in that house in Thirty-eighth street that ever lived—Stephen Pearlando [sic] and Dr. Woodhull and lots more of such trash.’

  “Counsel for plaintiff—‘Keep quiet, old lady.’

  “Mrs. Claflin, petulantly—‘Yes, yes; I’ll keep quiet; but I want to tell the Judge what these people are. I was afraid of my life all the time I was in the house; it was nothing but talking about lunatic asylums; if God had not saved me Blood would have taken my life long ago.’”

  Mary Sparr, Victoria’s older sister, who had also been living with her but recently had been ejected from the house, corroborated her mother’s story and added that Blood had been so violent with old Anna that Victoria had “tried to take him away by the neck” to separate him from her mother.

  It was left to Blood to try to explain away the wild charges that were making headlines, but he only added fuel to the fire. The Herald reported: “Mr. Blood then gave his evidence. He denied the statements in toto; said he never used violence with his mother-in-law, but that she was very annoying at times and wanted to interfere with the business of the firm.

  “Counsel—‘Did you never make any threat to Mrs. Claflin?’

  “Blood—‘Nothing, except one night last fall, when she was very troublesome, I said if she was not my mother-in-law I would turn her over my knee and spank her.’

  “Counsel—‘Would you really do that?’

  “No answer.

  “Counsel—‘When were you married to Mrs. Woodhull?’

  “Blood—‘In 1866 at Chicago.’

  “Counsel—‘Were you married before that to any one?’

  “Blood—‘Yes. I was married in Framingham, Mass.’

  “Counsel—‘Were you divorced from your first wife?’

  “Blood—‘Yes.’

  “Counsel—‘Was Mrs. Woodhull divorced when you married her?’

  “Blood—‘I don’t know.’

  “Counsel—‘Were you not afterwards divorced from Mrs. Woodhull?’

  “Blood—‘Yes; in Chicago in 1868.’

  “Counsel—‘How long were you separated from her?’

  “Blood—‘We were never separated; we continued to live together, and were afterwards remarried.’

  “Counsel—‘When have you seen Dr. Woodhull?’

  “Blood—‘I see him every day; we are living in the same house.’

  “Counsel—‘Do you and Mrs. Woodhull and Dr. Woodhull occupy the same room?’

  “No answer.

  “Counsel for the defendant—‘Now Mr. Blood, please tell the Court why Dr. Woodhull lives in the same house, and who supports him.’

  “Blood—‘The firm of Woodhull, Claflin & Co. has supported the whole of them; Mrs. Woodhull’s first child is idiotic and Dr. Woodhull takes care of him.’

  The examination continued for some time. The case was ended for the day and the court announced that Mrs. Victoria Woodhull and Miss Tennie C. Claflin were to be examined the following day.

  One can only imagine the mad scramble to get the story into print. Blood’s painfully honest testimony concerning his on-again, off-again marriage to Victoria, and the continued presence of her first husband in their lives, would have been certain headline material.

  By day two of the hearing, the streets outside the courtroom were teeming with people hoping to get a seat inside: “Physicians, lawyers, social reformers, cooks, chambermaids, brokers, gentlemen of elegant leisure arrayed in velvet and tube roses thronged the passage ways, pressed against the railings and stood on the benches in their eager avidity to see and hear the heroines of the hour,” the Herald reported, evidently delighted by the story it had to tell. “Mrs. Victoria C. Woodhull and her maiden sister, Tennie, put in an early appearance. They were neatly attired in black silk suits. The peculiarly jaunty style of jockey [hats] served as a sort of crowning grace to their abbreviated curls and imparted to the wearers a strikingly youthful air. Mrs. Woodhull was disposed to be more reserved than her more vivacious and younger sister. Miss Tennessee Celeste displayed no desire to shirk the issue, but boldly confronted both judge and opposing counsel and defied them to the combat. In this she doubtless trusted to her mesmeric power, as she claims to be a clairvoyant of no mean order, and probably divined the issue with all the certainty of a first class seer.

  “Both parties announcing themselves ready, Mrs. Woodhull was the first witness called.”

  Victoria was forced to explain the unusual household at 15 East 38th Street. She said that her husband, Colonel Blood, had never threatened her mother and that her mother was largely insane and had recently moved to a hotel with all of her expenses paid by the
brokerage house. Victoria further explained that her extended family of sisters, along with their husbands and children, also lived at the 38th Street home, but she had asked the Sparrs, who chose not to work, to move because it was becoming too expensive to keep them. She said the trouble with her mother began when her mother wanted Tennie to return to telling fortunes on the road. Victoria said Anna was convinced that as long as Colonel Blood was in their home he would not allow that. Victoria testified that her mother vowed to ruin Blood and “have him in the penitentiary.” She admitted that her first husband, Dr. Woodhull, lived in the 38th Street house, but she did not explain the circumstances. In fact, Victoria said her first husband had lived with her and Blood for six years, which meant he had never left her household following their divorce in 1865.

  Tennessee was then called to the stand and seemed to enjoy the spotlight: “She looked earnestly at the Judge, greeted her counsel with a little friendly nod, and stared the opposing counsel full in the face. Then throwing her eyes around the platform behind the Judge’s seat she looked meltingly at the twenty-five reporters gathered to hear her wondrous tale. Tennessee Celeste,” the Herald reporter who was among the assembly said, “has good eyes and knows her power.

  “She was sworn and kissed the book with an unctuous smack. In fact, everything that Tennessee Celeste did was done fervently. She has evidently inherited her mother’s talent for volubility.”

  After identifying herself for the court, Tennie declared herself to be the “martyred one.” According to the Herald, her lawyer, Mr. Reymart, asked, “‘When did Sparr and his wife first come to your house?’

  “Tennie—‘I could hardly tell you; I have always supported him and his wife.’

  “Turning to the opposing counsel, with a malicious smile playing around her mouth she ejaculated, ‘Now, go on; you may cross examine me as much as you like. I never knew Colonel Blood to use any violence towards mother. He only treated her too kind. In fact, I don’t see how he stood all her abuse.’

  “Mr. Reymart—‘What influence had Sparr over your mother?’

  “Tennie—‘My mother and I always got along together till Sparr came to the house. Sparr has been trying to blackmail people through mother.’

  “Judge Ledwith—‘This is altogether irrelevant. If it is objected to I will rule it out.’

  “Mr. Townsend—‘I have objected, but I can’t stop her.’ (Laughter)

  “Tennie—‘I have been accused of being a blackmailer. If I am a blackmailer I want it ventilated. I can stand ventilating. I have a lot of letters here, supposed to be written by my mother for the purpose of blackmailing different eminent persons in this city. My mother can’t read or write. They were written by this man, Sparr.’

  “The judge ruled the letters out. Tennie, however, insisted on reading one of them, and kept on in the same strain.

  “‘You wished to make me out a bad woman. I came here to sustain my character and I am going to sustain it. I heard poor Colonel Blood abused all the time and he never resented it. Viccy [sic] and Colonel Blood and I could live together in peace forever.’

  “Mr. Townsend—‘What was the reason your mother quarrelled with Colonel Blood?’

  “Tennie—‘Hadn’t I better begin and tell the whole trouble from the commencement? My mother is insane on spiritualism. But she is my mother and I love her. She has not slept away from me five minutes till lately.’

  “Mr. Townsend—‘You and your mother have been on most intimate terms?’

  “Tennie—‘Yes, since I was eleven years old I used to tell fortunes with her and she wants me to go back with her to that business; but Viccy [sic] and Colonel Blood got me away from that life; and they are the best friends I ever had. Since I was fourteen years old I have kept thirty or thirty-five deadheads. Some of the first people in Cincinnati interfered to save me from my own good nature. I am a clairvoyant; I am a spiritualist; I have power and I know my power. Many of the best men in the street know my power. Commodore Vanderbilt knows my power. I have humbugged people, I know; but if I did it was to make money to keep these deadheads. I believe in spiritualism myself. It has set my mother crazy, because she commenced to believe when she was too old.’

  “Tennessee Celeste then looked ironically at Mr. Townsend. ‘Hadn’t you better ask some more questions? Do! But, Judge, I want my mother. I am willing to take my mother home with me now, or pay two hundred dollars a month for her in any safe place. I am afraid she will die under this excitement. I am single myself, and I don’t want anyone else with me but my mother.’

  “Here the case rested for some time for the defense. There was quite a long argument between counsel and the Judge as to the admission of any more testimony. During this time Tennie suddenly went around behind the railing and springing towards her mother, clasped her in her arms. They kissed and hugged each other and Tennessee Celeste doubled and redoubled her seductory osculations, the echoes resounding through the court room, Mrs. Sparr at the same time, tugging away at the other side of the old lady. Then Colonel Blood came upon the scene. He soothed and caressed the impetuous Tennessee Celeste. He patted her fondly on the cheek and put her hair back with gentle hands. ‘Retire, Tennie,’ he whispered softly and tenderly; ‘do retire, my dear; you are only making yourself conspicuous.’ Tennie was soothed and retired to an inner room.

  “During this scene the most intense excitement reigned among the outside spectators. They stood on tip-toe; they craned their necks forward; they pressed and struggled with each other. The most exciting melodrama ever enacted in a theatre could not have held people more spell bound. They seemed to feel a personal interest in the proceedings.”

  Other people then testified that they had not seen Blood act in any way violently toward his mother-in-law. The case closed and the judge, after all the high drama in his courtroom, opted to reserve judgment. But if the scene and the dialogue had been directed by Victoria’s enemies, they could not have been more effective. The family’s courtroom appearance provided her critics with fresh and startling ammunition: Victoria Woodhull lived with two husbands.

  The day after the court proceeding ended, The Christian Union’s serial “My Wife and I,” by Harriet Beecher Stowe, introduced a character named Audacia Dangyereyes who most readers identified as Victoria. Audacia was depicted as a lusty, badly spoken political candidate and editoress of a newspaper called the Emancipated Woman who hoodwinked innocent men into subscribing by refusing to leave their offices until they did so. Audacia was also the author of a book whose title bore a striking resemblance to an Andrews treatise, The Universal Empyreal Harmoniad, Being An Exposition of the Dual Triplicate Conglomeration of the Infinite.

  “Dacia smoked, drank, and told a young man of less experience than herself that she took her rights just as a man, even in the courtship ritual. Her newspaper was an “exposition of all the wildest principles of modern French communism” and it printed direct attacks on “Christianity, marriage, the family state, and all human laws and standing order, whatsoever. It was much the same kind of writing with which the populace of France was indoctrinated and leavened in the year preceding the first revolution, and which in time bore fruit in blood.” Stowe wrote that the only difference between the French propaganda and ’Dacia’s newspaper was that the writing in the Emancipated Woman was “coarse in expression, narrow in education, and wholly devoid of common decency in [its] manner of putting things.”

  In actual fact, ’Dacia resembled Tennie much more than she did Victoria, but the distinction was lost on the 133,000 Christian Union subscribers, who eagerly awaited each installment of Stowe’s serial. The “little lady” who Abraham Lincoln said had started the Civil War with her book Uncle Tom’s Cabin was now setting her sights on Victoria. “My Wife and I,” caricature though it was, went a long way toward defining Victoria for tens of thousands of readers.

  But it wasn’t just that Harriet Beecher Stowe was in horror of Victoria’s political positions and her personal life. Her
vicious attacks in print were a desperate attempt to belittle and demonize a woman in possession of information that could blacken her family’s good name and topple her beloved brother Henry’s holy empire.

  THERE WAS A saying in Boston in 1871 that “mankind was divisible into three classes,—the good, the bad and the Beechers!” The Reverend Lyman Beecher and his three wives (all acquired through death, not divorce) bred a noble stock of writers, reformers, and clergymen who, from the middle of the nineteenth century on, set the standard for the mass of middle-class Americans. Three of the Beecher children would conspire to ruin Victoria Woodhull.

  Catharine Beecher, the eldest daughter, was the author of Treatise on Domestic Economy, which was published in 1841 and reprinted nearly every year for fifteen years. She was her era’s Dr. Spock, dispensing advice to scores of mothers, even though she herself never married. As a young woman she lost her fiancé in a drowning accident and forever after was unalterably upright and “gloomily religious.”

  Harriet Beecher Stowe, eleven years younger than Catharine, was the wife of a college professor and the mother of a sprawling brood. She represented everything that was “good, womanly and sincere.” Her book Uncle Tom’s Cabin had made her a literary luminary, although she had recently had a brush with controversy when she unmasked sordid details about the life of the poet Byron. Still, her place in the hearts of most Americans was secure.

  Henry Ward Beecher was younger than either sister but outshone them both. The novelist Sinclair Lewis said that the reverend was considered “the greatest preacher since St. Paul,” but that he was also “a powerful writer of trash.” Beecher was “St. Augustine, Barnum and John Barrymore” rolled into one. A writer at the time described Beecher as a power unto himself: “Democrats abhor him, grog-sellers dread him; Princeton theologians shake their heads over his theology; but everywhere, liked or disliked, the name of Henry Ward Beecher is known and his power recognized.” Henry David Thoreau came away from one of Beecher’s sermons declaring him a “magnificent pagan.”