The opening of a canal in 1848 led to the birth of modern financial derivatives, and the early demise of some of the men who traded them
Written by Michael Durbin • 13 minute read
In April of 1873, an unhappy man walked along Clark Street in downtown Chicago. His name was Aymar de Belloy. There was a gun in his pocket, and a nickel – enough for one final glass of beer.
He entered Kirchoff’s tavern and sat at a table, then changed his mind about the beer. He drew his gun, pointed it at his forehead, and pulled the trigger.
The bullet careened along the inside of his skull like a speed skater on a banked turn. It stopped at the left temple, sparing his brain. Belloy rose and staggered to the bar, shaking hands with the horrified men he passed along the way. Upon reaching the bartender, he apologized in all sincerity for the inconvenience he had just caused. Then he collapsed.
The self-castrating devotees of Inanna in ancient Mesopotamia are evidence enough that religious fanatics can demonstrate their faith in uncommon ways, but surely few have done so as appallingly as Second Adventist (not to be confused with Seventh Day Adventist) Charles Freeman of Pocasset. In 1879, Freeman was certain that he was receiving revelations that demanded a great sacrifice. Recalling the tale of Abraham and Isaac, he came to the conclusion that he must sacrifice one of his children. His wife Harriet was not especially pleased by this proclamation, and attempted to change his mind, but no argument succeeded. When in the middle of the night Freeman awoke to announce that God had given him the name of the victim–Edith, her father’s favourite–the tearful Harriet made one last attempt to dissuade him. But on being assured that this was the will of God, she assented.
On 01 May 1879, having sent his elder daughter out of the children’s room, Freeman prayed over Edith, hoping that she would sleep through what was to come–or that his hand might be stayed at the last moment by God, just as Abraham’s was said to have been. Edith opened her eyes; and since no divine hand held him back, Freeman stabbed his five year old daughter. She had just the time to say ‘Oh, Papa’ before she died.
After he had suffered ‘a good deal of agony of mind’ over what he had done, Freeman came to feel at peace, certain that he had proven his piety. He called a meeting of his co-religionists, to whom he gave a rambling sermon presaging the imminent arrival of Christ, before displaying his daughter’s body to them. However shocked they might seem, he reassured them that in three days she would be resurrected. And reassured they were. Edith’s grandmother insisted that there was no need to tell the murdered girl’s sister Mildred about any of this, since Edith would be back in three days and the knowledge would only disturb the girl. The other Adventists all went home and continued with their daily lives, Freeman’s secret presumably safe with his fellow church-goers.
The next day Freeman and his wife were arrested for filicide. News of the crime, not to mention the fact that a number of the Adventists openly approved of what Freeman had done, caused a wave of fury. Pulpits bristled with denunciations of Adventism and fanaticism, and the New England Adventist Association was forced to quickly dissociate itself from the Pocasset congregation. Freeman remained unconcerned, certain that he would be vindicated when God resurrected his daughter on the third day.
The day of Edith’s anticipated resurrection came and went with nary a stir from Edith. In lieu of a resurrection there was a burial–accompanied, to be sure, by some mutters about God breaking his promises. At the grave side, Alden Davis, now the leader of the Pocasset Adventists, jumped onto a nearby grave and began to give a speech eulogising the murderer, until the cries from the crowd of ‘Choke him!’ and ‘Bury him in the open grave!’ led to something of a brawl over the coffin.
Freeman was found insane and therefore incapable of standing trial, but he rejected that diagnosis. He was “the spirit of Truth,” he proclaimed. “I represent Christ in all his parts, prophet, priest and king. All good is represented in one person, and that person is me. I feel sure that my name will be honoured above any other name except Jesus.” As for Edith, “I feel perfectly justified. I feel that I have done my duty. I would not have her back.” To his surprise, he was immediately committed to the State Lunatic Asylum.
It took four years for Freeman to acknowledge the horror of what he had done, at which time he finally stood trial. Found not guilty by reason of insanity, he returned to the asylum, where he remained until he was set free some years later as representing no further danger. And there he vanishes from view.