The truth was that the loneliness in my life was depressing me; it was
in a sense work without hope--only the hope of being rich. While I could
not doubt Abigail's fitness as a mate for me, and though I was in
desperate need of a companion, Dorothy would not out of my mind and my
heart. My indomitable will had asserted itself in the pursuit of
Dorothy. Even if my judgment had favored Abigail I could not have given
up Dorothy. To surrender the hope of Dorothy was to leave something in
my life unfinished; and that was contrary to my tenacious purpose. I
could not hear Abigail's voice without comparing it to the softer
modulations of Dorothy's. I could not be in the presence of Abigail
without feeling that there was something more kindred to me in the
personality of Dorothy. And yet I had to confess on reflection that I
was not sure of this. Dorothy wrote to me on occasion, but there was
really nothing in her letters to keep hope alive. All the while my life
was going on in labor, in planning, in building, with Mrs. Brown to keep
my house. Even Zoe did not write to me. I knew that she was receiving
the monthly allowance from the fact that my letters were not returned.
However, at last one was sent back to me.
Then in the late winter I was surprised one day by the visit of a
stranger--and a strange character he was too. He introduced himself to
me as Henry Fortescue of Chicago--and as Zoe's husband! I remembered; he
was the voice teacher with whom Zoe was sitting on the lake front. He
began by saying that he had come with very unwelcome news and upon a
sorrowful mission. Zoe was dead! Zoe had met her death by foul play. She
had been found strangled to death in her bed.
I glanced in horror at this unknown character. He went on to tell me
that suspicion had fastened itself upon a half-breed who came to the
house where Zoe lived. He had been arrested, was soon to be tried. As to
Fortescue's visit here, he had come to see about Zoe's land and
interests. He had married Zoe some weeks before her death. Without
knowing much about such matters I went at once to the point.
I asked Fortescue what proof he had of the marriage. I began to suspect
Fortescue of being the murderer himself. So many desperate deeds were
done in this country; so many dishonest expedients resorted to for
money, for land. My question gave Fortescue embarrassment. He stammered,
colored a little, then went on to say that he had witnesses to the
marriage; that the ceremony was not performed by a minister, but that he
and Zoe had entered into a common-law marriage. I did not know exactly
what this was and at once determined to see Douglas about it.
Meanwhile I was compelled to suffer Fortescue to wander over the farm.
He took it upon himself to do so; and I scarcely knew how to forbid him.
I did stay him, however, from looking through my house. I saw that he
was a hungry dog, an impoverished wanderer who had fallen into means,
if, indeed, he was Zoe's husband.
The question now was, how to get him away; how, without denying he had
any rights, to keep him from assuming an attitude of proprietorship. I
thought it best to go with him. Accordingly, as I had proposed that we
go to Springfield at once, we rode partially across the farm in going to
Jacksonville. I told Fortescue frankly that I would have to look into
his proofs, and that I meant to go to Chicago, and that it was my duty
to see to it that Zoe's murderer was punished.
I stopped a few minutes to talk to Reverdy and Sarah. Reverdy was all
sympathy and wondered what misfortune would befall me next. Sarah wept
for Zoe's fate and for the trouble that it involved me in. She went to
the window and looked out. There was Fortescue waiting for me,
apparently glowing for the good fortune that had come to him. And here
was I in the house of Dorothy's brother and unable to put out of mind
the hope that Zoe's death would change Dorothy's decision, even while I
was grieving for Zoe. Like a spider at its door Fortescue was waiting
for me. Whether he or I should be more benefited by Zoe's death remained
to be seen. As I left I asked Reverdy to write Dorothy and tell her what
had happened to Zoe.
When we got to Springfield I left Fortescue to his own ways. I looked
up Douglas and asked his advice. As always, he was busy in politics. He
was now master of his party's organization. But as I had tortures
because of my position he had anxieties because of the lack of means.
The law business did not bring him a great deal; it could not, for his
mind was on other things. He was trying to be secretary of state in
order to supplement his earnings as a lawyer. He was catching at
whatever offered to float himself along. His life was, therefore,
patchy. Would it ever be a whole, well-fitting garment to his great
genius?
I took up with him at once the matter of Zoe's common-law marriage.
There was first the question whether Zoe could enter into any marriage
with a white man. But I had settled that with Mr. Brooks, when going
into that matter of my father's marriage with Zoe's mother. Zoe was not
a negro, not a mulatto; she had less than one fourth negro blood.
Therefore, she did not fall under the inhibitions of the Illinois law
forbidding marriages between persons of color, negro or mulatto, with a
white person. Douglas confirmed what Mr. Brooks had told me; and he gave
me the opinion that a common-law marriage was legal, but that Fortescue
would have to bring witnesses to Jacksonville to testify that he and Zoe
had taken each other as husband and wife; and that this had been
followed by an assumption of the marriage relation.
Douglas advised me to look carefully into the proofs. Well, why should
he not return to Chicago with me and help with the investigation? He was
willing. Meanwhile Fortescue was waiting for me. When I told him that I
was coming to Chicago with a friend he looked suspicious, as if he
thought that I was trying to evade him. As he began to press me then,
saying that we could all travel together, I forgot myself for the moment
in a rise of temper. "The land can't get away; nothing can run away; and
you can't get anything until you prove your case. I am going to Chicago
with a friend. I will see you there. You can go your own way." Fortescue
acquiesced apologetically; and having done with him for the time, I
turned again to visit with Douglas.
I had never seen him in a more interesting mood. He wished for good
fortune to befall him so that he could do something for the education of
the young, since his own opportunities had been limited. In this
connection he spoke of the grants of land which had been made to
Illinois for institutions and schools of higher learning. And while
talking of the Louisiana territory which Napoleon had granted to
America, and of Texas whose recent independence the United States had
recognized, his imagination glowed before the future power and glory of
the country. He was delighted that so many Germans and Irish, fleeing
from disorder and oppression in Europe, were seeking freedom and
opportunity here, and filling up the new lands. But while my inheritance
of a few thousand acres was already perplexing me, Douglas was still
free of the great calamity that would befall him because of the new
domains! If Zoe as one of the numerous persons of color had already
involved my life, how terribly would the curse pronounced upon the
descendants of Ham fall upon this Titan, this nation builder! Douglas
indulged his satirical talent in an amusing description of General
Taylor who was now talked of by the Whigs for President. He charged the
Whigs with cunningly picking rough and ready characters, pioneer types,
for their appeal to the plain people--pioneer types who really
entertained monarchistic principles. There was already much talk that
Texas was being drawn toward the United States by the slavocracy. Well,
what of it? The main thing was to get Texas. What is this sanctimonious
talk in prose and verse in England about Texas? Douglas was very
contemptuous of all of this.
Fortescue took his way somehow to Chicago. Douglas and I traveled
together. The first thing that Douglas sought to do was to look into the
evidence as to the murder of Zoe, and this with reference to Fortescue's
possible part in it. To this end Douglas sought the assistance of Mr.
Williams. Though he kept a law office, his larger interests were real
estate dealings. But he dropped everything to assist Douglas and me in
arriving at the truth. We went to the jail and saw the half-breed who
was charged with killing Zoe. The state's attorney had the half-breed's
confession. Though he was half insane from drink when he did the deed,
the prosecutor intended to ask for the death penalty. He was a
half-breed!
We intended to look up the witnesses, to learn from them the
circumstances which attended the murder. The prosecutor, however, was
disinclined to let us do this, and refused to give us their names. He
stood on a matter of pride that he had the case in hand himself and had
procured the confession. Douglas seemed to think it was unnecessary to
pursue the matter, and that was Mr. Williams' attitude. In the hurry of
these hours, dinner time having arrived too, we got into a haze--at
least I did--about getting anything more definite. Douglas thought that
the real question was the common-law marriage. If I wanted to prosecute
Fortescue for the murder I could do it any time. In the meanwhile
Fortescue would have to prove the marriage in order to derive any
benefit from Zoe's death.
We asked Fortescue what evidence he had of this marriage. "For one thing
this," he said, bringing forth a ring which had the words, "to my
husband Henry from Zoe" and the date engraved in it. Douglas wished
Fortescue to produce the witnesses who were present at the marriage.
This Fortescue refused to do. He became suddenly stubborn, almost
sullen. In a bold way he said to us: "If you are not satisfied with
this, I'll prove my case." "You will have to do that anyway," said
Douglas, "and perhaps as this matter goes on you will not be so
confident." Saying that he would come to Jacksonville with his proofs
Fortescue left us and disappeared.
Then Douglas turned to the talk of politics with his friends. Mr.
Williams went to his office. I was left alone. Had we accomplished
anything? I went back to see the state's attorney by myself, and asked
him if he did not suspect Fortescue. The state's attorney said that the
case was perfectly clear against the half-breed; that my only interest
in the matter was the marriage and to go back and defend that if I
chose, though he felt sure that Fortescue would amply prove that he had
married Zoe. I dropped the whole thing and called upon Abigail.
She began at once to urge me to come to Chicago. This was to be a city.
The opportunities here were infinitely rich. The life was increasingly
more interesting. She knew of my troubles, knew of the murder, for it
had been the talk of the town. She urged upon me a new life. I did not
need to sell my farm--leave it. Come to Chicago where fortunes were
being made and where greater fortunes would come to men of vision and
energy. We took a walk by the lake, which in reality only came to the
shore far south of the town--south of the mouth of the river. Here the
waves rolled upon the sand. What purity and blueness in the sky! To our
right as far as we could see wastes of yellow sand, dunes, brush, small
oaks and pines! Back of us a ragged and wild landscape being broken or
leveled by builders, by the opening of streets and roads.
Abigail was truly my friend, wise and sympathetic. Her clear-cut
thinking sheared away accidental things, fringes of irrelevancy. I was
so glad to get her opinion on the various things that perplexed me. She
advised me to make the best fight I could against Fortescue. After that
come to Chicago whatever the result. We parted with a clasp of the hand.
Then I went to find Douglas.