DOI Heft:
January 2, 1892
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17693#0015
January 2, 1892.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS.
No. IX.—TO CROOKEDNESS.
I dispense with all formal opening-, and I begin at once. I want
to tell you a story. Don't ask me why ; for, even if I answered the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, you would hardly
believe me. Let me merely say that I want to tell you a story, and
tell it without much further preface.
Two days ago I chanced, for no special reason, to open the drawers
said, beautiful. Innocence seemed to be throned on her fresh and
glowing face. Her smile fascinated, her voiee was a poem, and she
was musical in the best sense of the word at a time when good music,
although it might lack popular support, could always command a
small band of enthusiastic votaries in London.
There was at this time living in London an Italian artist, man of
letters and musical virtuoso, who was the spoiled darling of Society.
All" the women raved about him, the men liked him, for he had
fought bravely on the field of battle, was a sportsman and had about
him that frank and abundant gaiete de cceur, which powerfully
of an old writing-table, which for years past had stood, unused, in \ attracts the less exuberant Englishman. For his part Casanuova
a corner of an upper room. In one I found a rusty screw, in another
a couple of dusty envelopes, in a third a piece of sealing-wax, half-
a-dozen nibs, and a broken pencil. The fourth, and last drawer,
was very stiff. For a long time it defied my efforts, and it was only
by a great exertion of strength that I was at last able to wrench it
(that was his name) bore all his successes with good-nature and
without swagger. Of course there were whispers about him. "Where
so many women worshipped, it was certain that two or three would
lose their heads. Amongst this limited number was little Mrs. Millett,
one of Lady Callender's most intimate friends. She made no
open. To'my surprise I saw two packets of letters, tied together t secret of her grande passion. She poured her tale into the ears of
with faded ribbon. I took them up, and then remembered, with a | Lady Callender, and asked for sympathy and help. Lady
start, what they were. They were all in their envelopes, and all i Callender promised both, and at the self-same moment, made up
were addressed, in the same hand-writing, to Sir Charles Callen- j her mind that she would withdraw from Mrs. Millett such affection
der, Bart., Curzon Street, Mayfair. They were his wife's letters, i as Casanuova had honoured her with, and bring him, not because she
and, after the death of Sir Charles, whose in [ink ' thill cared for him, but merely for the sport of the
sole executor I was, they came into my pos- Mm iWilfki 'It III/ thing, to her own feet. She succeeded ad-
session,—Sir Charles, for some inscrutable || tAtt itMMilMmii 1 i' mirably. Under the pretence of bringing
reason, never having destroyed them, although, ;/ 1 j.|y/|S j 1 Casanuova and Mrs. Millett together (such
after his wife's death, the reading of them ■ ! 1 mwm MmB^^mwKw^Jml < ' things, you know, have been done in good So-
cannot have given him much pleasure. Xo i • iff j||f m^^^^^SttllmvV 1 ciety) she invited him constantly to her house;
doubt I ought to have destroyed them. I had , i j f |f!fff. |S|P% ^^^mSmlv I sne gave musical parties in his honour, she
never read them ; but there, in that forgotten [ )|| IHMIfHMUHPfi" l&MKffim11 ■'' used all her fascinations, and finally, having
drawer, they had lain, the silent dust; ac- If!' [■'IAr/^/IbMI^^B^^g^-'-^^^^^t^^jnTBlffltf7m^I/ i' fooled Ariadne to the top of her "bent, she
cumulating upon them as the years rolled '•' 111 IffoHWiWHr^ ^ffifflffflllllfil captured Theseus, and bore him off.
on. They reminded me of the story I am mlMmS^^'^ '^fflHlMlr • ^rs* Millett was a foolish and frivolous
about to relate—a story of which, I think, fliiffl^^- t^H|| j; little woman. Rage and despair made her a
no one except myself has guessed the truth, ''IHBr y,'? ^^^m\\ | demon. She resolved on revenge, and pro-
and which, in most of its details, I only knew IliiBBij'/' '^Ji^^Tmv&im f ceeded to it with a cool and astonishing per-
from a paper, carefully closed, heavily sealed, IVIHkM^I^^P' inlifiilf I sistency. Xow I do not myself believe that
and addressed to me, which I found amongst '\j II? fflflffiff'^j^P^^" jMfflfi P- Lady Callender cared two straws about
my friend's documents. It was in his hand- 1 j j if UJffljKMml S $: Casanuova. What she aimed at and enjoyed
writing throughout, but I shall tell it in my '• IImmBf- 11 I' was the discomfiture of a friend. In order
own words, and in my own way. j 11/1Ifl^^^&^^^^^f^^^^^^^f|[U i|, t° obtain it, however, she committed a fatal
Xobody who was about in London Society 'iwwmw/ffl1 ^' ^'^^tiff ' imprudence. She wrote some letters whicli
some thirty years ago, could fail to know or I . [fMM'Mw1^ \ \ \ \ Wff II ! would have convinced even a French jury of
know7 about the beautiful Lady Callender. , ^MlMM/'mk '' \\ \ • '•• .Mlj |j her guilt. By a master-stroke of cunning
She was of a good county family. She was 1 wff/lM/iI flm 1 j u 1 1 wickedness, Mrs. Millett gained possession
clever and accomplished. She had married p /'/§• mm filj I S \ i \w °^ them, and sent them to Sir Charles. It
a man rich, generous, amiable, and culti- n mm wWBt \ I 3 l\Vw happened that about this time Sir Charles
vated, who adored her. Unfortunately they Mrmk iWwk\ \ V V \\\ was *n a YeT? ^ow state of health, and his
had no children, but, in every other respect, rWaMm-iilrfw i\ V 1 w- \V V\ friends were anxious about him. One after-
Lady Callender seemed to be very justly yMJn f 'Mill I K 1 I i S Snfll\ V\' noon, when Sir Charles was confined to his
an object of envy and admiration to most of /MWrniw %^ I fN I \/f$h bed, Lady Callender was playing the piano
the men and women of her circle. Personally ' | J\vlJlf j % ^V%f>JrA ^° ^er Italian slave. A message was brought
I had no great liking for her. I don't take fWfe^^^^nM-^ X'*-J i%^f/' \\ to her that her husband desired to see her
any credit for that—far from it. The reason l^mli^fwmll^^k^^i^^^ ■ ^'or a ^ew minil^es> and she tripped gaily
may have been that her Ladyship (although /im/ip ' mil' fl!r^^^3fl[:, \ I mIMvO away> saybag to Casanuova, "Wait here; I
I was one of her husband's best friends, had / fljf/' m'!^|||||| If J \m- ^Il\\lv s^ia^- return directly." In a quarter of an
been his school chum, and had " kept" with ' \mWm Mi \ fjj f' ' m -V\| \W\hour, however, her maid came to tell him
him in the same set of rooms at Cambridge, W}% 'T\ a ! WM\ '• i ' % ^M that her Ladyship was suffering, and begged
where his triumphs, physical and intellectual, /Wsj^i L i iL < j j $m • 1 ,t || ^m to excuse her, and he departed. When
are still remembered) never much cared for j^-^jl^ ■ ljjMf=^f^?~ the maid; returned, to Lady Callender, she
me. She could dissemble her real feelings ^/ ''/~^^0^f(9^Bm^^^^^^^^^, r found her lying dead on the floor of her room,
better than any woman I ever knew, she ' •:7^tS^^^^S^tT~, M ! / Avith a small phial, which had contained
always greeted me with a smile, she even M'/f'fffftti^ ' prussic acid, clasped tightly in her hand,
made a parade of taking my advice on little ' :, . This is what had happened: Sir Charles
family difficulties, but there was an indefinable something in her had received the letters; they left no doubt in his mind that the wife
manner which convinced me that beneath all her smiles she , he adored was betraying him, and he, too, resolved on revenge. He
bore me no good-will. The fact is that, without any design sent for his wife. When she came in, he at once confronted her with
on my part, I had detected her in one or two bits of trickery, | her letters, and taxed her with her guilt. A terrible scene of tears,
and, in what I suppose I must call her heart of hearts, she never
forgave me. The truth is, though her guileless husband only knew
entreaties, and bitter reproaches ensued, but Sir Charles was as ada-
mant, and his wife retired to her bedroom in a state of nervous pros-
it too late, she was perhaps the trickiest and the most heartless tration, which immediately brought on a toothache. At this point
woman in England. If there were two roads to the attainment of | she sent for her maid, and gave her the message to Casanuova.
any object, the one straight, broad, smooth and short, the other 1 The Coroner was sympathetic, and did what he could, but the
round-about, obscure, narrow and encompassed with pitfalls and j evidence in favour of the suicide theory seemed overwhelming, and
beset by difficulties, she would deliberately choose the latter for no the jury returned a verdict to this effect, with a rider strongly corn-
other reason that I could ever see except that by treading it she ! menting on the danger of selling such deadly poisons. But it was
might be able to deceive her friends as to her true direction. She j never explained how Lady Callender obtained the prussic acid, nor
carried to a fine art the small intrigues, the petty jealousies, the > why she had selected that particular moment for its use. I ought
mean manoeuvres in the science of outwitting; the shifts, the ! to add, that Casanuova left England before the inquest, and has
stratagems, the evasions by which power in Society is often j never returned. On the mystery of the final catastrophe the manu-
supposed to be confirmed, reputations are frequently ruined, j script throws no light. It ends abruptly. _ But the whole tone of it
and lives are almost invariably made wretched. But Sir Charles leads me to believe, that in some unexplained, manner Sir Charles
knew none of these things. He was apparently only too proud to be himself had been instrumental in causing his wife's death. But
dragged at his wife's chariot-wheels in her triumphant progress, you, no doubt, know, and could tell us if you wished.
For the strange part of the business is that there was absolutely no So there, my friend, you have the story. Sorry I couldn't make
need for any of her deeply-laid schemes. Success, popularity and it more cheerful. Do you remember the part you played in it ?
esteem would have come to her readily without them. She was, as I Yours, &c, Diogenes Bobinson.
LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS.
No. IX.—TO CROOKEDNESS.
I dispense with all formal opening-, and I begin at once. I want
to tell you a story. Don't ask me why ; for, even if I answered the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, you would hardly
believe me. Let me merely say that I want to tell you a story, and
tell it without much further preface.
Two days ago I chanced, for no special reason, to open the drawers
said, beautiful. Innocence seemed to be throned on her fresh and
glowing face. Her smile fascinated, her voiee was a poem, and she
was musical in the best sense of the word at a time when good music,
although it might lack popular support, could always command a
small band of enthusiastic votaries in London.
There was at this time living in London an Italian artist, man of
letters and musical virtuoso, who was the spoiled darling of Society.
All" the women raved about him, the men liked him, for he had
fought bravely on the field of battle, was a sportsman and had about
him that frank and abundant gaiete de cceur, which powerfully
of an old writing-table, which for years past had stood, unused, in \ attracts the less exuberant Englishman. For his part Casanuova
a corner of an upper room. In one I found a rusty screw, in another
a couple of dusty envelopes, in a third a piece of sealing-wax, half-
a-dozen nibs, and a broken pencil. The fourth, and last drawer,
was very stiff. For a long time it defied my efforts, and it was only
by a great exertion of strength that I was at last able to wrench it
(that was his name) bore all his successes with good-nature and
without swagger. Of course there were whispers about him. "Where
so many women worshipped, it was certain that two or three would
lose their heads. Amongst this limited number was little Mrs. Millett,
one of Lady Callender's most intimate friends. She made no
open. To'my surprise I saw two packets of letters, tied together t secret of her grande passion. She poured her tale into the ears of
with faded ribbon. I took them up, and then remembered, with a | Lady Callender, and asked for sympathy and help. Lady
start, what they were. They were all in their envelopes, and all i Callender promised both, and at the self-same moment, made up
were addressed, in the same hand-writing, to Sir Charles Callen- j her mind that she would withdraw from Mrs. Millett such affection
der, Bart., Curzon Street, Mayfair. They were his wife's letters, i as Casanuova had honoured her with, and bring him, not because she
and, after the death of Sir Charles, whose in [ink ' thill cared for him, but merely for the sport of the
sole executor I was, they came into my pos- Mm iWilfki 'It III/ thing, to her own feet. She succeeded ad-
session,—Sir Charles, for some inscrutable || tAtt itMMilMmii 1 i' mirably. Under the pretence of bringing
reason, never having destroyed them, although, ;/ 1 j.|y/|S j 1 Casanuova and Mrs. Millett together (such
after his wife's death, the reading of them ■ ! 1 mwm MmB^^mwKw^Jml < ' things, you know, have been done in good So-
cannot have given him much pleasure. Xo i • iff j||f m^^^^^SttllmvV 1 ciety) she invited him constantly to her house;
doubt I ought to have destroyed them. I had , i j f |f!fff. |S|P% ^^^mSmlv I sne gave musical parties in his honour, she
never read them ; but there, in that forgotten [ )|| IHMIfHMUHPfi" l&MKffim11 ■'' used all her fascinations, and finally, having
drawer, they had lain, the silent dust; ac- If!' [■'IAr/^/IbMI^^B^^g^-'-^^^^^t^^jnTBlffltf7m^I/ i' fooled Ariadne to the top of her "bent, she
cumulating upon them as the years rolled '•' 111 IffoHWiWHr^ ^ffifflffflllllfil captured Theseus, and bore him off.
on. They reminded me of the story I am mlMmS^^'^ '^fflHlMlr • ^rs* Millett was a foolish and frivolous
about to relate—a story of which, I think, fliiffl^^- t^H|| j; little woman. Rage and despair made her a
no one except myself has guessed the truth, ''IHBr y,'? ^^^m\\ | demon. She resolved on revenge, and pro-
and which, in most of its details, I only knew IliiBBij'/' '^Ji^^Tmv&im f ceeded to it with a cool and astonishing per-
from a paper, carefully closed, heavily sealed, IVIHkM^I^^P' inlifiilf I sistency. Xow I do not myself believe that
and addressed to me, which I found amongst '\j II? fflflffiff'^j^P^^" jMfflfi P- Lady Callender cared two straws about
my friend's documents. It was in his hand- 1 j j if UJffljKMml S $: Casanuova. What she aimed at and enjoyed
writing throughout, but I shall tell it in my '• IImmBf- 11 I' was the discomfiture of a friend. In order
own words, and in my own way. j 11/1Ifl^^^&^^^^^f^^^^^^^f|[U i|, t° obtain it, however, she committed a fatal
Xobody who was about in London Society 'iwwmw/ffl1 ^' ^'^^tiff ' imprudence. She wrote some letters whicli
some thirty years ago, could fail to know or I . [fMM'Mw1^ \ \ \ \ Wff II ! would have convinced even a French jury of
know7 about the beautiful Lady Callender. , ^MlMM/'mk '' \\ \ • '•• .Mlj |j her guilt. By a master-stroke of cunning
She was of a good county family. She was 1 wff/lM/iI flm 1 j u 1 1 wickedness, Mrs. Millett gained possession
clever and accomplished. She had married p /'/§• mm filj I S \ i \w °^ them, and sent them to Sir Charles. It
a man rich, generous, amiable, and culti- n mm wWBt \ I 3 l\Vw happened that about this time Sir Charles
vated, who adored her. Unfortunately they Mrmk iWwk\ \ V V \\\ was *n a YeT? ^ow state of health, and his
had no children, but, in every other respect, rWaMm-iilrfw i\ V 1 w- \V V\ friends were anxious about him. One after-
Lady Callender seemed to be very justly yMJn f 'Mill I K 1 I i S Snfll\ V\' noon, when Sir Charles was confined to his
an object of envy and admiration to most of /MWrniw %^ I fN I \/f$h bed, Lady Callender was playing the piano
the men and women of her circle. Personally ' | J\vlJlf j % ^V%f>JrA ^° ^er Italian slave. A message was brought
I had no great liking for her. I don't take fWfe^^^^nM-^ X'*-J i%^f/' \\ to her that her husband desired to see her
any credit for that—far from it. The reason l^mli^fwmll^^k^^i^^^ ■ ^'or a ^ew minil^es> and she tripped gaily
may have been that her Ladyship (although /im/ip ' mil' fl!r^^^3fl[:, \ I mIMvO away> saybag to Casanuova, "Wait here; I
I was one of her husband's best friends, had / fljf/' m'!^|||||| If J \m- ^Il\\lv s^ia^- return directly." In a quarter of an
been his school chum, and had " kept" with ' \mWm Mi \ fjj f' ' m -V\| \W\hour, however, her maid came to tell him
him in the same set of rooms at Cambridge, W}% 'T\ a ! WM\ '• i ' % ^M that her Ladyship was suffering, and begged
where his triumphs, physical and intellectual, /Wsj^i L i iL < j j $m • 1 ,t || ^m to excuse her, and he departed. When
are still remembered) never much cared for j^-^jl^ ■ ljjMf=^f^?~ the maid; returned, to Lady Callender, she
me. She could dissemble her real feelings ^/ ''/~^^0^f(9^Bm^^^^^^^^^, r found her lying dead on the floor of her room,
better than any woman I ever knew, she ' •:7^tS^^^^S^tT~, M ! / Avith a small phial, which had contained
always greeted me with a smile, she even M'/f'fffftti^ ' prussic acid, clasped tightly in her hand,
made a parade of taking my advice on little ' :, . This is what had happened: Sir Charles
family difficulties, but there was an indefinable something in her had received the letters; they left no doubt in his mind that the wife
manner which convinced me that beneath all her smiles she , he adored was betraying him, and he, too, resolved on revenge. He
bore me no good-will. The fact is that, without any design sent for his wife. When she came in, he at once confronted her with
on my part, I had detected her in one or two bits of trickery, | her letters, and taxed her with her guilt. A terrible scene of tears,
and, in what I suppose I must call her heart of hearts, she never
forgave me. The truth is, though her guileless husband only knew
entreaties, and bitter reproaches ensued, but Sir Charles was as ada-
mant, and his wife retired to her bedroom in a state of nervous pros-
it too late, she was perhaps the trickiest and the most heartless tration, which immediately brought on a toothache. At this point
woman in England. If there were two roads to the attainment of | she sent for her maid, and gave her the message to Casanuova.
any object, the one straight, broad, smooth and short, the other 1 The Coroner was sympathetic, and did what he could, but the
round-about, obscure, narrow and encompassed with pitfalls and j evidence in favour of the suicide theory seemed overwhelming, and
beset by difficulties, she would deliberately choose the latter for no the jury returned a verdict to this effect, with a rider strongly corn-
other reason that I could ever see except that by treading it she ! menting on the danger of selling such deadly poisons. But it was
might be able to deceive her friends as to her true direction. She j never explained how Lady Callender obtained the prussic acid, nor
carried to a fine art the small intrigues, the petty jealousies, the > why she had selected that particular moment for its use. I ought
mean manoeuvres in the science of outwitting; the shifts, the ! to add, that Casanuova left England before the inquest, and has
stratagems, the evasions by which power in Society is often j never returned. On the mystery of the final catastrophe the manu-
supposed to be confirmed, reputations are frequently ruined, j script throws no light. It ends abruptly. _ But the whole tone of it
and lives are almost invariably made wretched. But Sir Charles leads me to believe, that in some unexplained, manner Sir Charles
knew none of these things. He was apparently only too proud to be himself had been instrumental in causing his wife's death. But
dragged at his wife's chariot-wheels in her triumphant progress, you, no doubt, know, and could tell us if you wished.
For the strange part of the business is that there was absolutely no So there, my friend, you have the story. Sorry I couldn't make
need for any of her deeply-laid schemes. Success, popularity and it more cheerful. Do you remember the part you played in it ?
esteem would have come to her readily without them. She was, as I Yours, &c, Diogenes Bobinson.