Confession

Hinton had not had any contact with Realf since Kansas and not until the New York Times covered the alarming trouble that Realf was having with the Regulators and Klu Klux that he was able to discover his old friend's whereabouts. He went to South Carolina to see him at once.

Through Sophia's letters, he would have known that she was trying to piece together dates and places of Richard’s life and when she wrote, “I know nothing of his life after the Oneida affair, excepting what I saw in the newspapers."

Hinton had more — the letter that Realf wrote him from Atlanta ten years before. He may have wondered if to send the letter to Sophia at all, but in the end, he sent it so she could know it all from Realf’s own hand. It bore the truth — Kate Cassidy was not a mythical newspaper wife.

Atlanta Georgia – Wednesday Night, December 15, 1869

Five years ago to-night, my dear friend, I slept upon the wet ground in front of Nashville, opposite the enemy from whose hands I have a thousand times subsequently wished I had been so fortunate as to receive an honorable & soldierly death.

To-night I write you from a boarding house kept by a colored host, my means not enabling me to make myself at a hotel; with my heart broken, and only by strong struggle and prayer kept from the perpetration of that most cowardly of all crimes — suicide.^⁠[1]

You have been to me so kind & true and noble a friend that I owe it to you to state the causes why I am here — homeless, friendless, and sick almost unto death. I must make the recital brief, for it is very painful.

Two and a half years ago I married my wife. Meeting her casually, & learning something of the sad character of her earlier history (she had been seduced and was then the mistress of a certain person). I grew to pity her greatly.

She became, or pretended to become, deeply attached to me and I avouch, as in the presence of my Maker, that she fell upon her bended knees one day, entreating me to make her my wife, to the end that she might escape the alternative of entering a brothel.^⁠[2]

I married her — and I take Heaven to witness, I have endeavored to be to her a good and true and loving husband. My friends — all of them averse to my step — warned me against the misery I was bringing on myself, but I thought I could save her from degradation, and I made her my wife.^⁠[3]

Not two months elapsed before I ascertained that I had made a dreadful and fatal mistake. And not six months passed over my head before, one day, I accidentally discovered a letter written by her since marriage to a certain person, the contents of which were of unutterably coarse and shocking a character as well-nigh to drive me insane.

I think I ought to have killed her. As it was, I forgave her, and took her into my heart.

Thus another six months elapsed. I was at that time occupying the position of Clerk & Sec’y to Genl. Ingalls, N.Y. City.

Coarse — illiterate — with no tastes for things higher than gross indulgences and grosser scandal — furious in temper, more jealous than words can express — she was a tiger.

She made my home a torture.

Invited into polite society, requested to take part in literary, political, & other social gatherings, I deprived myself of these pleasures for her sake — choosing to remain at home.

Last winter I received a note from a lady who for ten years had been endeavoring to gain an introduction to me. She had culture & literary tastes, & enclosed me in her note an answer to a little poem which I had written twelve years ago. I requested the privilege of forming her personal acquaintance, & called upon her.

I could not inform my wife of this, nor could I invite the lady to my house—since either would have brought upon me an unloosed hell of domestic fire.

I called upon this lady, in all, during a period of 3 months, 3 or 4 times (never being absent from my house in the evening after 9 or 10 o’clock except in my wife’s company) and alway returning to spend an hour with my wife’s father — whom I altogether supported — before he retires to rest.

Upon New Year’s Day, 1869, I gave this lady a photograph of myself, in exchange for a picture taken during my association with John Brown, which this lady had procured from the artist, & kept during ten or twelve years.

You have seen the picture at Graniteville.^⁠[4]

I must confess that subsequent developments compelled me to the conclusion that the moral character of this person was not, at the time, above suspicion. Yet I aver before Heaven that I thought her as pure as snow, and that all my intercourse, oral and written, was such as the most innocent & spotless soul might have heard & read.

Remember that during all this time I was the recipient of constant abuse from my wife, because I did not take her to parties &c. to which I had been invited; but to which I did not myself go, for the reason that I should have been rendered miserable through her.

One day — Heaven knows how — my wife ascertained the address of the lady in question, went to her house (in Brooklyn), and disgraced herself by using language too foul for any lips, and by getting together a vast crowd of loiterers to witness her furious insanity. She took the picture from the wall, returned with it to N.Y., came during office hours to my office, and in the presence of distinguished personages let loose her floods of foul & false accusation.

I could endure no more. I determined to leave her — for I had known no rest, no peace during the whole period of our married life.

I intended to go to Florida; the lady who had been by her so outraged was formerly a member of the congregation of Dr. Hicks. She was a milliner & dressmaker, was broken up by the cruel slanders of my wife; and in the presence of a third party, after I left my home, she arranged to go to Charleston to Dr. Hicks, and thro’ his influence re-established herself in business.

I swear that that was all. No act nor thought of wrong was present with me; although I have since had reason to believe that improper relations had previously existed between herself & Dr. Hicks.^⁠[5]

My wife caused my arrest on a charge of proposed desertion, and then (withdrawing it) again threatened me to live with her.

Again I relented. I came south.^⁠[6] You know with what industry, I have worked for her — with what fidelity I have loved her — how tenderly, by day & night during her long illness I watched over her.

You know also how, when following her recovery, she again became possessed of the devil, at last she sent for you & in your hearing asked my forgiveness & promised amendment for the future.

Yet once more, almost immediately after our removal to Edgefield,^⁠[7] another infernal spasm seized her, followed again by the usual tears and expressions of contrition.

You know the causes of my detention in Columbia. I was absent from home 13 hours beyond the period specified, riding all night & 75 miles out of my way, to reach home as speedily as possible.

Rev. Mr. Jackson, Mr. Joyner, Gov. Scott, Judge Willard, yourself, can tell how my time was passed, and how infamously false and scandalous were her accusations against me of marital infidelity.

Upon my arrival home on Wednesday, I think, instead of finding any welcome I was bidden “to go back to my n–gg–r wh–r–h–se,” & informed that she purposed to publish me as a “wo-ho-master”^⁠[8] throughout the town.

It was Circus-day. A vast crowd was in town. I thought she was insane. She acted so, and looked so. I told her how utterly false her accusations were. She only became more enraged, and did go into the street and spread her shameful story.

Then a little while afterwards, James Ramsey was shot, and in company with Eckelsberger I had him to my house, and placed him on my bed. This act of simple humanity rendered my wife still more enraged, and not even the presence of the physicians, of Ramsey’s mother & friend was sufficient, powerful to make her respect herself. She raved and cursed, and forbade the use of my bed to the poor suffering boy.^⁠[9] At last I spoke indignantly and warned her to remain quiet, or I should expel her from the house. Thereupon she assailed me with an awful volley of abuse, and still I refrained. But at last her taunts goaded me beyond mercy, & I opened for her the door.

She went voluntarily, and at once with her clenched fist smashed in the windows of my office. After the removal of Ramsey she returned for her trunks. I was in agony, all night. She had procured me no food — I had eaten nothing since leaving Edgefield. The next morning I sent for her, but she returned me curses. As part of the money left with her was $16.67 belonging to the YWCA. She was aware of this.

When she left on Thursday she took all, amounting to about $70. I was ill on Thursday. On Friday, I came to Augusta to assess Robinson’s Circus at Graniteville^⁠[10] & met her on the train. I begged of her to return to me the funds due Gov’t. She promised to do so. I took lodgings at the Globe Hotel. During the evening, before the performances commenced I went to the Circus to find the manager. At the entrance way I met her. I invited her to accompany me in. She did so, spending the entire evening with me. She lodged that night at a private boarding house, I myself escorting her to the door. At parting I gave her my address. While at breakfast on Saturday morning she called at the Globe Hotel for me.

I accompanied her down Broad St. During the conversation which ensued she expressed her determination not to pay the money she held from the Gov’t, & upon the public thoroughfare again cursed and slandered me. Hoping to compel her into decency, I threatened to arrest her. She taunted me with my foolish love for her, and replied that I dared not. Thereupon I requested her to accompany me to the Police office, arriving at which place I desired the Chief to give us a private interview. This she rejected, and proceeded to denounce me as a “John Brown” man.^⁠[11]

Finding that she was utterly impenitent & incorrigible, I went away, leaving her still there, and have never seen her since. After my departure she must have given to the reporters the atrociously false and calumnious statement which appeared in the Augusta papers of Sunday morning. I thought at first I would die, and to end all the misery & shame, therefore I returned my Commission to the Baldwin,^⁠[12] & enclosed certain papers to Mrs. Willard under cover to the Whately of Augusta.

Reflection induced me to try & endure life a little longer. Therefore I came here, where I now lie ill and despairing for I could not return to Edgefield Co. Sensitiveness and sympathy, static as I am, I should have gone mad under the well meant condolences of my friends. And I am afraid that, if I had met my wife, I should have shot alike herself and myself. Therefore I came away.

Something more — My poor wife has all along borne an unconquerable aversion to the negro. She has bitterly opposed me in my efforts to do them good, and often has, in her furious moods, expressed her hope that I might be killed during my canvass of the County.

I have tried to be courageous, true, loving, good. I have loved her & cherished her as hardly ever before, under similar circumstances, man cherished a woman. I have, a hundred times, implored her to govern her temper and endeavor to speak truth. Yet she drove me to destruction and suicide. I have had the strongest temptations to drunkenness when Man was weak, and I have still kept myself sober. I have lived in torment — and earned it — ever since my marriage. Now it is over.

For the truth of what I aver relative to her past, I refer you and all others to the Rochester Union & Advertiser, the columns of which in July or Aug 1869 contained an account of her expulsion from a R.R. car for being “drunk & disorderly.”^⁠[13] For the truth of that which I state respecting myself I refer to Gen. H. D. Wallen, The Armory, N.Y. city; to Rev. Dr. Vinton of Trinity Church, N.Y. City; and also to Genl. Ingalls, late Grant’s Chief Quartermaster.

I desire also to state that the “third party” before alluded to as present during the last conversation between myself & the lady under previous reference was an estimable married lady, adopted daughter of Genl. McCallum, formerly Chief of R.R. Transportation.

My burden has been almost greater than I could bear. Yet because I pitied & loved her, I endured in silence and resignation. For her future, it is easily to be guessed and dreadful to think upon. In my own, whatever I may do or become I have nothing to regret in my treatment of her. I do not write this to elicit your sympathy. I write because it is true. And I respectfully desire you to show this letter to Mrs. Williams, and to all others whom you judge to be interested in my fate.

The Gov’t owes me in salary, deducting my wife’s earnings, somewhat over $180. I owe you I do not know how much. Gov. Bullock & the principal State officials are now absent in Washington. I should prefer, if possible, to remain here until their return. Upon their return & the presentation to them of necessary credentials as to my identity and Republicanism, I could, I think, get something to do in a school to teach, if nothing more.

I have no papers with me. I sent them all to Mrs. Williams. Perhaps you will be kind enough to add to my indebtedness by getting Mr. Williams to pay you the balance due me, and by sending me so much of it as you can spare. And if to this you will take the trouble to induce some of the leading State officials to certify to my Republicanism & to the fact that domestic misery is the only cause of my change of location; no doubt it would benefit me greatly. If you prefer not to, still I desire to thank you for all you have done in my regard.

I shall remain here until Thursday of next week. By that time my funds ($8.00) will be quite exhausted. Write if you care to aid me, or wish me well — I am waiting, despairing, and yet not wholly without hope.

If by that time, or by Friday at farthest, I do not hear from you, you will please convey my most respectful regards to all my little friends in Columbus, and request them to remember me in all their full tide of pleasure and felicity, though all his life experience would have been one of sorrow. I will deeply — devotedly — never forgetful — cease to entertain affection for them. Let them and yourself only believe he did wrong, under strong impulse, and see in the charitable supposition that life was a mystery too much for that strange, passionate creature to solve.

Should you conclude not to write, I wish you would be good enough, when you shown or read this letter to persons you choose, to give it to Mrs. Williams for such alternate disposition as she may see fit to make of it. She will know what I mean.

You will at least believe me when I say I love you.

Richard Realf

For Sophia, the letter must have been almost unbearable to read. Here was Richard’s own hand, pouring out anguish, shame, tenderness, rage, and self-pity over the ruin of a bigamist marriage, while she had waited for him to return over the spring and summer of 1866. He could describe himself as homeless, heartbroken, betrayed, and near death; he could plead for Hinton’s understanding and ask to be judged as a “strange, passionate creature” overwhelmed by life, but nowhere in this long recital did he pause over Sophia. Nowhere did he name the vows made at Furnessville, the letters he wrote her, or the silence into which he had cast her. To read it was to discover not only what he had suffered, but how completely he had written her out of the story of his suffering.

NOTES

¹ Realf’s recurring references to suicide—found in letters, autobiographical sketches, and reported by friends—suggest a man both genuinely tormented and deeply invested in the Romantic archetype of the doomed poet. Whether from physical pain, moral collapse, or public disgrace, he repeatedly cast himself as a figure whose suffering warranted an early, noble end. Yet this language also functioned as a rhetorical device, used to win sympathy or absolution—especially in moments when he was facing the consequences of betrayal or scandal.

² While Realf frames his marriage to Kate Cassidy as a moral act—claiming she “fell upon her bended knees” to beg him for rescue—contemporary accounts contradict this self-justifying narrative. According to R.J. Hinton and others in Realf’s circle, the marriage took place during a period of alcohol-fueled recklessness, and at least one biographical source describes Cassidy outright as a prostitute. These sources suggest Realf was not acting from clear-headed altruism but was instead ensnared in what one writer termed “a week of debauchery.” Whether Cassidy was in fact a sex worker, as some would suggest, or simply treated as such by Realf’s defenders, remains uncertain—but the label served to discredit her and deflect blame away from Realf’s own behavior.

³ Christina Cassidy and Richard Realf's illegal marriage took place at Trinity Church of Rochester in October of 1867

⁴ Graniteville, South Carolina. Richard Hinton visited Realf once when he lived in the South, rekindling their friendship forged in the days at Kansas.

⁵ Realf is quick to insist he didn’t follow the seamstress to Charleston. On the contrary, he suggests it was she who pursued him. By his telling, she took up with a Dr. Hicks—unnamed and undefined—while he was merely trying to disappear into officialdom somewhere further inland. But the timing is too neat, the geography too close. She’s in Charleston, he’s suddenly in Edgefield and Graniteville, and both of them appear to be fleeing the same northern scandal. Realf does not disclose that when he was arrested in New York, Catherine would have arrested him for abandonment because she knew that the two of them had just purchased tickets for a steamer heading to South Carolina.

⁶ By 1869, Richard Realf had left Christina behind in New York and taken a post in South Carolina, where he taught freedmen and wrote for a Radical Republican newspaper. Christina eventually discovered his whereabouts—likely through his published articles—and sued him for desertion. Afterward, she traveled south and took up residence with him. Her arrival, and what one account would later describe as her “violent colorphobia,” forced him to abandon his teaching work. He secured a new position as a federal tax assessor in Edgefield, South Carolina, but resigned abruptly under circumstances that remain unclear. The familiar pattern of flight, scandal, and resignation resumed: from Edgefield, he moved on to Augusta, Georgia. It was there, in Georgia, that he wrote this letter.

⁷ Edgefield, South Carolina, served as the county-seat town of Edgefield District—a politically vibrant center during Reconstruction. In 1869, Richard Realf was appointed assessor of internal revenue for Edgefield District.

⁸ “wo-ho-master” — A phonetic spelling of “whore-master,” a derogatory term historically used to describe a man who keeps company with prostitutes or facilitates sex work. Realf presents this as one of several public insults hurled at him by his wife during a street confrontation, portraying her as vulgar and intent on ruining his reputation, and worse because such accustation could put his life in danger.

⁹ While Realf does not state James Ramsey’s race explicitly, context suggests he was likely Black. Realf’s wife had, by his account, “an unconquerable aversion to the negro,” and reacted with violent hostility when Realf brought Ramsey—wounded, accompanied by his mother and physicians—into their home. This, coupled with Realf’s Reconstruction-era work on behalf of freedpeople in the South, points to Ramsey’s probable racial identity.

¹⁰ Realf wasn’t going to the circus for amusement but to collect taxes and/or licensing fees.

¹¹ To be denounced in the streets as a “John Brown man” could prove deadly in the South during the days of Reconstruction.

¹² The most likely interpretation is that Realf returned or resigned his federal appointment by submitting his commission to a person named Baldwin, possibly his appointing officer or supervisor. This fits his pattern of abrupt resignations and flights from federal roles when things became uncomfortle or scandalous.

¹³ Rochester Times Union, July 10, 1867; three months before Realf's marriage to Kate Cassidy, she was arrested for being drunk in public and bound over for trial.