The Evening Spider (9 page)

           
May 7, 1879

               
I haven't sewn a stitch since my last entry. Yesterday was such a brilliant sunny day that Martha and I walked all the way to Beebe's store, where I was delighted to find a new selection of fabrics. There will be more summer dresses and bonnets for Martha, as I purchased a yard of each of the three prettiest.

               
As we arrived back home from Beebe's, I noticed the beginnings of the tulips peeking out from beneath last autumn's leaves—the patch by the side of the door, which Mrs. Lawton helped me plant when I was a new bride. Because Martha was sleeping contentedly in her carriage, I busied myself clearing away the old leaves and pulled up two tiny saplings that were trying to establish themselves among them. And as Martha was still sleeping after that, I fetched my old sketchbook—with some effort, as I hadn't seen it in many months—and attempted to draw the charming little plants. There is something about that flower's first unfurling that is most beguiling. I could not capture it with my pencil. My drawings looked like soiled fingers with ragged nails, reaching up from the dirt. (“They look a bit frightful, ma'am,” Tessa admitted when I showed her my work. “But wasn't that how you intended it?”)

               
My attempt today was considerably better, and dear Martha slept through all of my sketching, but the effort delayed my supper plans by an hour or two. I had to serve Matthew bread before the soup was ready, as his stomach was growling so viciously.

           
May 12, 1879

               
Clara made an unexpected visit yesterday. I was surprised to see she had her carpet bag with her—bulging with clothes for several nights. It appears Matthew wrote Jonathan and suggested I'd appreciate a visit. I certainly am enjoying the company, but it is out of character for Matthew to forget to tell me something like this. I would have done some special baking for my sister. Now that she is here, we are baking cider loaves together. She so enjoys holding Martha and singing to her. Her voice is so much lovelier than mine. I wonder if Martha notices the difference. I sing to her when I am certain nobody else can hear. Soon she will understand the distinction between a sweet voice and an unmelodic one. I like to think, however, that in the earliest days, her mother's was nonetheless her favorite.

           
May 14, 1879

               
I have tucked in here my last attempt I made at drawing the early tulip leaves. I drew it on the first day Clara was here. She held Martha while I went outdoors after Matthew had gone. This will be the last drawing until
next year, as they have all bloomed now. I don't have as strong a desire to draw the actual blooms. They are perhaps too ostentatious. The early leaves, just emerging, are like impish little secrets, every one. That is what I most wanted to capture. I don't know if I've done so very successfully, but I'll save the attempt until next year and compare the two.

               
Clara asked, when she saw what I had done, if I had recently taken up botany more seriously. I told her no and tried to explain to her the singular attraction of the early tulip leaves, rolled up so coyly. She replied with a doubtful smile, as if I'd said that I expected winged fairies to crop up from the soil.

               
I did not show her my drawings. I don't begrudge her her older-sisterly airs—I simply wish my drawing skills matched her musical ones.

           
October 14, 1879

               
Professor Johnson is to testify soon. On our walk yesterday, Harry answered all of my questions about his colleague's experiments and their place in the trial. It was a pleasure to have my brother all to myself. Matthew is, of late, so intent on cushioning my mind from anything so interesting.

               
This is my understanding of the significance of the experimental stomachs. It is to show that the poor girl's stomach was not tampered with unlawfully after her death! There was no denying that her stomach had poison in it, but what is likely to be argued by the defense is that it
was deposited there by someone on the prosecutor's side—someone intent on convicting Rev. Mr. Hayden.

               
The Stannard girl's stomach had, as a result of the arsenic, enlarged blood vessels in the postmortem examination. Under the direction of Professor Johnson, Harry and his colleagues obtained two stomachs for experimentation, and applied a similar amount of arsenic to them. After some time sitting in jars in the lab, with the arsenic inside of them, it was found that the stomachs did not have the same enlarged condition of blood vessels as the girl's stomach. These results will make it more difficult for the defense to make their accusation regarding the arsenic's introduction after the death, rather than before.

               
I gather that the physical evidence will be much more complex than what I've described here, but this explains Harry's part. I inquired whether he would be taking the stand, but he said no. Dr. Johnson will be speaking for his own work, including this part in which Harry assisted. It would be exciting if Harry testified! Mother would be beside herself, however, so perhaps it is best he has a quieter role.

           
October 18, 1879

               
Harry has fulfilled his promise of late. He finally came to visit me at home—spent an hour with Martha on his knee and gave me more than a week's worth of New Haven newspapers. I'd have liked to have read them right away and asked him questions about what he's seen and heard, as he was present in the courtroom for one day of
Dr. Johnson's testimony! I stashed them in my chest in the bedroom, however, while he and Matthew were chatting.

               
It was altogether a clandestine affair. Harry brought the newspapers in a basket of sweet breads made and sent, he said, by Mother. Harry had given me a tiny wink as he'd said this, and when I brought them to the kitchen, I saw the newspapers stuffed beneath them.

               
I have only managed to read two so far. They involve the selection of the jury and Herbert Hayden's plea of not guilty.

               
I gather, from peeking, that the further articles involve the details of Dr. Johnson's testimony. I am saving those for tomorrow—when Matthew won't be present, and I won't be so tired.