The Spiritualists and the Detectives

CHAPTER XX

A Female Spiritualist's Ideas of Political and Social Economy. – The Weaknesses of Judges. – Legal Acumen of the Adventuress. – An unfriendly Move. – Harcout attacked. – Lilly Nettleton and the Rev. Mr. Bland again together. – A Whirlwind.

ONE evening, after Mrs. Winslow had had a very busy day with her spiritualistic customers, which had become quite unusual, she showed herself to be more than ordinarily communicative, undoubtedly on account of the spirits which had kept her such close company, and at once started in upon an edifying explanation of her political views, and confided to Bristol and Fox, as illustrative of her high political influence, that certain officers of the Government only held their lease of office through her leniency.

From this she verged into political and social economy, stating her earnest belief to be that every man should have a military education, and that if they were found to be unfit physically to withstand the rigors of a military life, they should be immediately condemned to death, and thus be summarily disposed of. And so, too, with women. There should be appointed a capable examining board, and wherever a woman was found wanting in physical ability to meet every demand made upon her by her affinities through life, she should also be instantly deprived of existence. She maintained that there should be a continuous and eternal natural selection of the best of these mental and physical conditions, just the same as the stock-raiser bred and inbred the finest animals to secure a still finer type, and that all persons, male or female, failing to reach a certain fit standard of perfection in this regard, should be condemned to death. She would have no marriage save that sanctioned by the supreme love of one eternal moment; and shamelessly claimed that passion was the real base of all love, and that, consequently, it was but a farce on either justice or purity that men and women should be by law condemned to lives of miserable companionship. In this connection she held that not half the men and women were fit to live, and were she the world's ruler she would preside at the axe and the block half of her waking hours.

These sentiments were quite in keeping with her expressions concerning the late war, her gratification at Lincoln's assassination, and her threats that she had President Johnson in her power through her knowledge of some transactions in Tennessee. This was, of course, all silly talk, but it showed the woman's tendencies and disposition, and enabled Bristol and Fox to gradually lead her into narrations of portions of her own career during and after the war.

She boasted of her ability in fastening herself upon a command, or military post, by getting some one of the leading officers in her power so they dare not drive her beyond the lines, and then, when the soldiers were paid off, getting them within her apartments, drugging them, robbing them, and finally securing their arrest for absence without leave. She claims that in this way she often made over five hundred dollars daily, and would then buy drafts on northern banks, not daring to keep the thousands of dollars about her which would frequently accrue.

Interspersed with these narratives were numberless tales of adventure wherein Mrs. Winslow, under her aliases of the different periods referred to, had been the heroine, and where her shrewdness and daring, she wished my operatives to understand, had brought utter dismay to each of her opponents, all of which had for its point and moral that she was not a person to be trifled with, as Mr. Lyon would eventually ascertain to his sorrow.

To more thoroughly impress this, in another instance the question of being watched and annoyed by Lyon or his agents arose, when she insisted to Bristol that Fox was a detective, and to Fox that Bristol was one, and then abruptly accused them both of the same offence, expressing great indignity at the assumed outrage; and when they had succeeded in partially pacifying her, she turned on them savagely, saying that they had better bear in mind that she did not care whether they were detectives or not; that she was a pure woman – an innocent woman; but still, she wanted not only them, if they were detectives, but all the world, to understand that she was capable of taking care of herself, whoever might assail her. Evidently the good legal mind which the woman certainly possessed had reverted to her criminal acts in other portions of the country, for she asserted very violently that, should Lyon undertake to have her conveyed to any other State upon a requisition to answer to trumped-up charges for the purpose of weakening her case, she would shoot the first man that attempted her arrest; and that, if finally overpowered by brute force, she would still circumvent him by securing a continuance of the trial at Rochester, and make that sort of persecution itself tell against "the gray-headed old sinner," as she most truthfully called him.

She further remarked, with a meaning leer, that she never had any trouble with the judges. They were generally old men, she had noticed, and her theory was that old men, even if they were judges, had a quiet way of looking after the interests of as fine-appearing women as she was; and even if they did not have, her powers of divination were so wonderful that she could at any time go into the trance state and ascertain everything necessary to direct her to success, giving as an illustration a circumstance where a certain St. Louis daily newspaper had grossly libelled her, whereupon she had sued its proprietors for ten thousand dollars, retaining two lawyers to attend to her case. When it came to trial her counsel failed to appear. With the aid of the spirits she grasped the situation at once, and, showing Judge Moody a receipt for attorneys' fees amounting to two hundred dollars which she had paid them, pleaded personally for a continuance until the next day, which he granted, showing her conclusively that he was in sympathy with her. She then went home, and, again calling on the spirits, they revealed to her that she should win a victory.

So she read all the papers in the case, in order to acquaint herself with the leading points, and then subpœnaed her witnesses. Having everything well prepared, she proceeded to the court-room the next day, and on the case being called, the spirit of George Washington instantly appeared. It had a beautiful bright flame about its head, and floated about promiscuously through the upper part of the room. She was certain that it was a good omen, but it was a long time before she could get any definite materialization from the blessed ministering angel from the other side of the river. After a time, however, George's kind eyes beamed upon her with unmistakable friendliness, and the nimbus, or flame, that shone from his venerable head in all directions, finally shot in a single incandescent jet towards the head of the judge; and immediately after, the gauzy Father of his Country placed his hands upon the former's head, as if in benediction. This was a heavenly revelation to her that the judge was with her, as afterwards proved true.

George stayed there until the trial was ended, which she conducted in her own behalf, constantly feeling that she herself was being upheld by strong, though invisible hands. When the jury was being impanelled, the flame, with an angry, red appearance, pointed to those men who were prejudiced against her, to whom she objected, and they were invariably thrown out of the panel; while all through the trial the judge insisted that there should be no advantage taken of her, if she had been forsaken by her counsel; and with the aid of Washington she won a splendid victory, securing a judgment of one thousand dollars, which was paid; and there are scores of lawyers and newspaper men in St. Louis who will remember this case, that know of the woman and her almost ceaseless litigation in that action, and who will also recollect that she did get a thousand dollars from one of the leading newspapers there.

Her cunning and shamelessness were largely commented upon at the time; but it was reserved for Mrs. Winslow to inform the world, through my operatives, that George Washington ever descended to this grade of pettifogging. It can only be accounted for through a knowledge of that peculiar system of religion which gives to the very dregs of society a mysterious, and therefore terrible power, whether assumed or otherwise, over its better elements for their annoyance, persecution, and downfall.

There was also a poetical and religious element in the woman's composition which very well accorded with her superstitiousness. This was quite strongly developed by a liberal supply of liquor, which she never failed to use whenever she became worried and excited over the coming trial, both of which begat in her impulses for certain lines of conduct exactly the reverse of those counselled by her more quiet, calculating reflections.

One pleasant October day, when suffering from a peculiarly severe attack of romantic fancies, she conceived the idea of breaking through all her stern resolves relative to not seeing Lyon, and making one more effort to win him back to her altogether, or so affect him by her fascinating appearance that he would be glad to settle with her at any reasonable figure he might name – say twenty-five or fifty thousand dollars.

It was a pleasant fancy, and Bristol and Fox were exceedingly interested as they noticed her excited preparations for her expedition of conquest. She sang like a bird, and the bright color came into her face as she tripped about, busied in the unusual employment. All the forenoon she dressed and undressed, posing and balancing before the pier-glass like a danseuse at practice, studying the effect of different colors, shades, and shapes, until at last, having decided in what dress she should appear the most bewitching, she retired for a long sleep, so as to rest her features and give her eyes their old-time lustre.

At about two o'clock she awakened, and, after dressing in a most elaborate and elegant manner, at once started out upon her novel expedition to the Arcade.

The Arcade in Rochester is a distinct and somewhat noted place in that city. It has nearly the width of the average street, and extends the distance of a short block – from Main Street to Exchange Place – being nearly in the geographical, as well as in the actual business center of the city. It is covered with a heavy glass roofing, filled on either side by numerous book and notion stalls, brokers' offices, and the offices of wealthy manufacturers whose business requires a down-town office, and is also, as it has been from almost time immemorial, the location of the post-office; so that, as the thoroughfare leads directly from the Union Depot to the uptown hotels, it is constantly thronged with people, and is the spot in that city where the largest crowd may be collected at the slightest possible notice.

To Mrs. Winslow's credit it should be said that up to this time she had kept so remarkably quiet that public scandal had nearly died away, and as she had gone into the different newspaper offices with some of the wicked old light burning in her eyes, and "warned" them concerning libelling her, both she and her suit were no longer causing much remark; but now, when she was seen majestically bearing down Main street, with considerable fire in her fine eyes, determination in her compressed lips, and the inspiration of resolve in every feature of her handsome though masculine face, there were many who, knowing the woman, felt sure there was to be a scene, and by the time she had turned from Main street into the Arcade quite a number were unconsciously following her. After she had got into the Arcade she attracted a great deal of attention in sweeping back and forth through that thoroughfare, as in passing Lyon's offices she gave her head that peculiarly ludicrous inclination that all women affect when they are particularly anxious to be noticed, but also particularly anxious to not have it noticed that they wish to be noticed; and continued her promenade, each time brushing the windows of Lyon's offices with her ample skirts, and growing more and more indignant that nobody appeared to be interested in her exhibition, save the lookers-on within the Arcade, who were increasing rapidly in numbers.

This seemed to exasperate the woman beyond measure, and finally, after casting a hurried glance or two through the half-open door, she apparently nerved herself for the worst and made a plunge into the office, while the crowd closed about the door.

Bristol had of course felt it his duty to inform Mr. Lyon of the fair lady's intended demonstration, and the latter had judiciously found it convenient to transact some important business in another part of the city on that afternoon; but the elegant Harcout had bravely volunteered to throw himself into the breach and bear the brunt of the battle – in other words, sacrifice himself for his friend, and was consequently sitting at Lyon's desk behind the railing, which formed a sort of a private office at one side of the general office, as Mrs. Winslow, pale with rage and humiliated to exasperation, came sweeping into the room.

"Ah, how d'ye do, ma'am?" said Harcout blandly, but never looking up from his desk, at which he pretended to be very busily engaged. "Bless my soul, you seem to be very much excited!"

"Sir!" said Mrs. Winslow, interrupting him violently, "I want none of your 'madams' or 'bless my souls.' I want Lyon, you puppy!"

"Ah, exactly, exactly," replied Mr. Lyon's protector with the greatest apparent placidity, though with a shade of nervousness in his voice; "but you see, my dear, you can't have him!"

It was not the first time this man had called this woman "my dear," nor was it the first time he had attempted to beat back her overpowering passion. Had he known it as Mr. Harcout, or had she recognized him as Mrs. Winslow, it would have made the interview more dramatic than it was – perhaps a thread of tragedy might have crept in; as it was, however, she only savagely retorted that she wouldn't have him, but she would see him if he was in, whether or no.

"Well, my dear good woman," continued Harcout soothingly, but edging as far from the railing and his caller as possible, "he isn't in, and that settles that. Further, you can't have, or see, him or his money, and that settles that. So you had best quietly go home like a good woman and settle all this," concluded Harcout winningly and yet impressively, and with the tone of a Christian counsellor.

The crowd laughed and jeered at this grave and sarcastic advice, and it seemed to madden her. Raising her closed sunshade and hissing, "I'll settle this!" she rushed towards Harcout, struck at him fiercely, following up the attack with quick and terrific blows, which completely demolished the parasol and drove him nimbly from place to place in his efforts to avoid the effects of her wrath.

For the next few moments there was a small whirlwind in Lyon's offices. The railing was too high for Mrs. Winslow to leap, or she certainly would have scaled it. Harcout could not retreat but a certain distance, or he certainly would have sought safety in flight. So the whirlwind was created by rapid and savage leaps of Mrs. Winslow, as if to jump the railing and fall bodily upon her victim, and at every bound the woman made, the shattered parasol waved aloft and came down with keen certainty and stinging swiftness, upon such portions of the gilt-edged gentleman as could be most conveniently reached.

It is difficult to realize what the woman would have done in her mad passion, had not a lucky circumstance occurred. She and Harcout had never met since the time when, in the face of her robbery of him, she had unblushingly compelled him to wed her to the credulous Dick Hosford at the Michigan Exchange Hotel in Detroit; and had she now recognized him as the villain who had made her what she was, it is a question whether she would not have made a finish of him there and then. But some one in the crowd raised the cry of "Police!" which sobered her at once, and, giving the tattered remnant of her sunshade a wicked pitch into Harcout's face, she turned quickly, shot into the Arcade as the crowd made way for her and quickened her speed by wild jibes and taunts, until she had reached the street, where, in a dazed, hunted sort of way, she hailed a passing cab, sprang into it, and was driven rapidly away.