The ‘Loving’ Letter That Ended a Marriage
Clara B. Heaton wins a default divorce after testifying that James Heaton threatened to blow her up with dynamite—then submits his own angry letter as proof.
The story, cleaned up
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Clara B. Heaton was yesterday granted a divorce by default from her husband, James Heaton, on the grounds of inhuman treatment. She stated that her husband was a bad and cruel man, used vile and abusive language toward her, often threatened to blow her up with dynamite, and in various ways kept her in constant fear for her life.
There is one child, Florence, issue of the marriage, who is married and resides with the divorced husband. The plaintiff yesterday filed as an exhibit a letter from her husband. It is not dated, but was evidently received recently, and corroborates the woman's statements in regard to their affection for each other.
The letter consists of strong expressions of anger. Heaton condemns her action in leaving him and states that their little daughter Florence, who is living with him, treats him shamefully and will scarcely give him a civil answer, from a cause unknown to him. He says that he has stood enough of his wife's cussedness to put him in his grave, and that if she keeps on tormenting him she will be answerable for his death. His wife has cursed him, he says, and he accuses her of breaking their marriage vow to God and himself.
His wife must have written to him that she had friends in Seattle, for he says: “I am glad you have so many friends, but you will soon kick them over and trample them in the dust.” He asks his wife if she has sworn off all of her bad habits, such as swearing and drinking whisky, and then reminds her of what a good home he tried to make for her and how pleasant her recollections of their home with Florence, plenty to eat, clothes and all the cash he could spare, all for her. Then he states that his wife is either crazy or untruthful and cares only for herself, and that if he wanted Florence to go to hell he would send her to his wife. In conclusion, he tells her to go home to her “Ma,” and that he will stand no more of her foolishness.
“I am glad you have so many friends, but you will soon kick them over and trample them in the dust.”
Divorce court was one of the few public forums where domestic violence surfaced in 1894, and even then a woman had to prove “inhuman treatment” while her husband’s threats were filed as evidence of his affection. The case is a reminder that intimate fear was once—and sometimes still is—treated as a private matter rather than a public danger.
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