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One of Harry Thaw's Favorite Photographs of Evelyn Nesbit.
By Evelyn Thaw
Twelfth Instalment of the Most Extraordinary
Human Document Ever Written—Stranger
Than Any Story in Fiction or Drama
Interesting Comment by a Clergyman.
The Moral It Teaches.
By Rev. NATHAN SEAGLE. D. D.,
Ro tor St. Stephen's Church, New York.
I GNORANCE is always dangerous, and should be dispelled. Evelyn
Thaw’s story, told by herself, is certainly that of experience, and it
is only the experienced who are fitted to teach the ignorant. Out
of this woman’s sin and sorrow and suffering and repentance she has
distilled wisdom, and that wisdom the young may take as a solemn
warning against following her youthful example.
While the ugly facts of life may be hidden for a longer or shorter
time, and while there may be serious doubts as to the benefit of throw
ing them into the foreground of the mind—in other words, causing the
young to think of what they might not otherwise have thought—yet
the story of Evelyn Thaw is not open to that criticism. Every one
who can read English knows her pitiful story; has known it from the
time the tragedy she caused was a matter of widespread public news.
Every one, it may be said, knows her story, and the work of drawing
from it morals and guiding principles and warnings against the pitfalls
of life seems to me a good one.
Chapter XII.--When Harry
Thaw Exclaimed, “I
You will bear with me if 1 repeal myself, here. 1 owe it to
myself, at this stage of my story, for grave reasons, frankly and
fully to picture tbe state of my mind and heart regarding my
h us ban
Tbe time surely had arrived when the mind should take con
trol and henceforth govern the heart. 1 could still be charitable—
at least I wished to be—still be moved to pity; but no longer al
the expense of my future.
I remember that first I went over in my mind things not of
hearsay, but the direct evidence of my own eyes and ears. I' now
realized that I wanted Harry held in Matteawan so long as I
Hved. because, as you will read later, he had threatened to kill
me should he be liberated! But that was only a feeling based'
upon a dread of personal calamity. It would not be fair to let it
sway me. I must confine myself to an unemotional consideration
of the legal reasons for keeping Harry Thaw locked up.
One reason stood forth in a very clear light. 1 knew of my
own knowledge that when Harry drank champagne he was
always unquestionably insane—dangerously insane. I also knew
that, without keeping him locked up, there was no guaranty that
he could be kept away from champagne—quite the contrary. You
could no more keep him from champagne than you could keep
a fish from water
There was not, in the year 1906, a headwaiter on Broadway
who would not have declared Harry to be insane. They knew
of his refusal to drink the liquors that affected him only as they’
affected the average man. There seemed to be a kink in his
brain that made him stick to the drink which, curiously, always
Inflamed him after the same dangerous, maniacal fashion.
Harry Kissed the Man Who Slapped His Face.
o/i e
fore
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to a
A
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ters
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by
in t
A
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Suppose I Will Have to Shoot YOU Next!” Her Love Died
Written by Evelyn Nesbit Thaw
Copyright, 1913, by Star Company.
Booh Rights Reserved by Evelyn Nesbit Thaw.
APPROACH now the real crisis of my life. Whether Evelyn
Thaw would sink or rise had become a question that must
soon be decided. 1 realized ttiis with ever-increasing ve
hemence and i began to search through the wreck of things for
a way oui.
In my last chapter I told of the marriage annulment proceed
ings brought at the suggestion of the Thaw lawyers—that sinis
ter farce of whicli the real object was lo rid the Thaws of me,
but which was to operate as one of the strongest factors to keep
Harry in Matteawan. They had left me without a shred of hope
in my husband’s family.
•Clearly, all the Thaws wanted was to drop me as quickly as
possible. Very well, I had not, after all, married my husband's
family. Their attitude did not really matter.
What hope was there for me in my husband?
And if he failed me. then what hope was there for me in
myself?
Was Harry the incurable lutlatlc the verdict had declared’’
If he was. then I must fare forth single handed to fight my battle.
But 1 must definitely KNOW. I would not abandon Harrv it he
were sane—indeed. 1 would not abandon him if he were not
Incurably Insane.
And so I threw myself into the study of insanity. 1. of
course, knew that it was the venerable and learned Dr. Austin
Flint, perhaps as great an alienist as the world has produced,
who had first declared that it was wrong to try Harry Thaw for
murder because he was not sane. 6o I "went to school" with
Dr. Flint
•He taught me many things about the manifestations of various
forms of insanity, especially of paranoia—of which he pronounced
Harry’s case a typical example. Also 1 read every authoritv I
could find. 1 wanted to do Harry every Justice
In the light of these studies many of Harry’s peculiarities
gained significance. ! now understood the meaning of his car
riage and gait as he used to enter the trial room and go to his
seat. Nobody who saw him at such times could fail to note how
he stubbed along as though the floor had some magnetic attrac
tion for his toes, and how he carried his head to one side, with
an inclination of his body In the same direction.
My studies informed me that these were among many other
signs which set up at least a suspicion of insanity. As I knew
very well, there were many other signs, such as his habit of
carrying crumbs and bits of stale bread In his pockets during
the trials.
My visits to Harry in Matteawan had. however, made me
very cautious about arriving at definite conclusions and there
were times when I discarded the whole proposition that Harry
was a paranoiac or afflicted with any other kind of insanity.
Let me explain.
There were a number of paranoiacs among the criminal
patients of Matteawan. Ever)’one of thorn showed distinct abnor
malities either in their carriage, their gait or their other move
ments. Every one showed various marked idiosyncrasies. But
in every instance these peculiarities were -individual No two
cases were entirely similar 'It seemed that paranoia only in
tensified its victim's individuality Instead of branding him with
a standard set of symbols whose plain reading mu*t be insanity.
Each case had to be judged by itself. I could compare Harry
with none of them because you canuol compare unlike things.
And so I again grew 1 hopeful that Harry was after all not insane.
These systematic efforts to make up my mind regarding my
husband's true condition and what it predicated for our future
went along with serious efforts to decide upon some career that
would make me independent of Harry, of Harry's family—of
everybody. Tbe undercurrent oT my desire—it had now become
really a determination—for independence did not waver; it grew
constantly stronger
At tbe same time, 1 repeat. 1 was deceived time and time
again, and . ritched repeatedly from the new broad track of self
I ‘
help Into the old sidetrack of hopefulness about a secure aud
happy future with Harry.
And right here it is very necessary for you who read to under
stand that, although the breach with Harry's relatives was con
stantl.v widening and Harry’s own attitude toward me was grow
ing more and more discouraging, there were intervals that were
marked by apparently complete reconciliation between my hus
band and myself.
As late as the early months of 1910 there were in Harry’s life
and mine oases of many happy hours spent together within the
walls of Matteawan!
• • • • •
Do you imagine that these intimate self-revelations are easy
for me? Are they not the most conclusive proof of her candor
that any woman could give In presenting to the public such a
story as mine?
"Is there nothing consistent, nothing steadfast in her charac
ter?" I seem to hear you asking yourself. And I answer
"Consider the nature of her experiences set forth in the pre-
Written by Harry Thaw.
This curious portion of a letter shows two sur
prising errors in spelling. The word "hear’’ he
spells "here.” and “new*’’ he apella "knewa."
reding chapters of her narrative. Consider the complicated
troubles with which she was now beset. Consider her youth
and her temperament, and then—‘put yourself in her place.' ”
But an inconsiderate statement or cruel act on Harry's part
at any time was becoming enough to change me in a moment
from a trusting and hopeful wife into a disillusioned woman,
with nothing to rely upon but her own endeavors. And after
such happenings i would again plunge feverishly into the con
sideration of ways and means of becoming really free
If Dr. Flint and ail the hosts of experts were right, my hus
band was hopelessly and Incurably insane- Very slender and
remote was the likelihood of his ever being released from con
finement. With my husband a lifelong lunatic and, of course,
not in control of his own private means, there was no very
bright future in his direction. And of his mother and relatives
—1 already had discovered what to expect from them.
Several tried and trusted friends, each capable and successful,
even in some instances eiminent in his or her settled calling.
ga\e me at this time candid enlightenment concerning this or
that way of earning a living.
"You must write," declared one of the most brilliant of the
writing journalists in America
He would back me into a corner, gesticulating, asserting
arguing.
"You have a clear and logical mind. You are analytical, and
you can philosophize. The creative impulse is strong in you.
You have a genuine sense of humor—which will hold you back
from over-sentimentality. Writing is your game. Get to work
and learn the trick.”
"Fine!" I would retort. “I can see myself toiling for a week
o 4 ver some pretty little idyll I can see the intelligent editor
to whom I -send it hurrying a persuasive gentleman of his staff
to find me, cover me with compliments on the literary charm
of my little story—‘which, unfortunately, is not precisely suited
to our needs at present’—and then making me a princely offer
to write about the ‘Thaw case’ ’’
From an established woman star in legitimate drama: "My
dear, you are for the stage. Your soul has been tortured. You
have endured all that a woman can endure and retain her rea
son You have passed through fires which have refined—sepa
rated the gold from the dross. Your character is formed—you
are strong. No other vicissitudes of this life will have power
to deflect you from your chosen path. Remember the great
Raciiel and the miseries and injuries she suffered in her youth.
Remember that achievement in art nearly always obeys the Law
of Compensation; that compensation for the miseries and the
injuries you have endured must be achievement, success—and,
if not happiness, at least contentment. The stage will reward
you. my dear.”
Had the Matteawan Sentence Saved My Life?
From a rising young painter; “If you’re not prepared for a
career in art, no woman with inclinations in that direction ever
was It is an axiom in all the world-famous ateliers and acad
emies that a woman is no good at painting until Fate has
slapped her in the face—good and hard. I don't recall an In
stance in contemporary life, or in history of a girl whom Fate
has slapped harder than it has slapped you. Ail the foolishness,
and girlish dreams and illusions, and purely personal conceit,
have been slapped out of you. If-ybu want to paint, get to work
and paint—and good luck to you!"
So it went I was grateful for this plain speaking, for I
knew that it was based upon truth and was well meant. Be
sides. I gained from these friends much information in detail
about the technique of their several specialties and about tbe
stages of study training and practice T would have to paSs
through before 1 could hope to earn my livi g by any of them.
And yet not one could really answer my problem for me!
A happy chance at length decided the matter in a way that
fired me with enthusiasm. If only I eould find a little money to
defray preliminary expenses, l felt assured of success. How
this decision came about, and the influence it gained over me—
which will last as long as 1 live—is material for a chapter by
itself
Well, the thing being again possible, I went lo my husband
and confided in him As will be seen later on. I came away
from that interview broken-hearted, feeling that it was the most
egregious folly to place any further dependence upon Harry
Thaw!
I returned from that interview determined that my husband
should be put out of my life altogether. Still 1 wished to do
him no injustice in my memories, in my future judgments.
More than ever 1 felt urged to decide for myself whether he
was a lunatic, deserving of sympathy rather than blame—or
was something else.
I had been a girl when Harry Thaw had determined to marry
me Men cannot conceal their true characters forever, not
even from their wives Was It possible that the Matteawan
sentence had spared my life as well as his?
Horrors! 1 must not let my mind dwell upon these phan
toms not when I had come fresh from probably a final rupture
with my husband, flaming with anger, disgust, contempt for
him. and—! must admit it—an unwholesome self-pity. In my
personal, final judgment of him 1 wanted to be as charitable
as possible.
So 1 sat down and tried calmly to array all the evidences
which, in the light of my studies of the authorities, would tend
to dispose of Harry Thaw in my own judgment, once and for
ever, as a hopeless lunatic, and therefore not to be held re
sponsible for any of bis words or deeds.
t
i recalled instances where a single glass of champagne had al
wholly changed his ordinary individuality. When sober Harry
was a physical coward with men; but let him drink a few glasses
of wine, and he would immediately imagine th^it he was the real
and only "white hope"! Very much later on, while in that sam<£ Y'
condition, I am sure he would have had no hesitation in start- 11
ing a fight with Jack Johnson.
As a result of such champagne delusions about his physical * 1
prowess, he was often in trouble, and was always whipped. Once all d
when he was diniDg at a famous Broadway restaurant, and be P ro '
-had taken a glass or two of champagne, he noticed Mr. Matt Verj
•Morgan sitting at another table, and began making Insulting re- ''‘''
marks to him. Mr. Morgan is an artist and a splendid athlete. Iet * e
Mr. Morgan stood the abuse as long as he could. Then he ldea
got up and walked over to Our table and slapped my husband's 1
face.
Har
One would have expected Harry to jump up and pitch Into “ nd
him. Ferhaps the small amount of champagne he had had time " ne,v
to drink had not yet taken effect, for he did nothing of the sort 1
Instead, he rose slowly, walked over to the indignant gentleman expr
and kissed him! Mr. Morgan promptly knocked my husband * uch
down, and that closed the Incident. ' all,
Another restaurant fad of Harry's, when he was in cham.‘ r ! ‘ sanl
pagne, added to his Broadway reputation as a maniac. He would ’ me 1
refuse to let the waiter brukh the crumbs from the table. Let ^
the waiter so much as raise Iris narkin and Harry would bowl ^te
1n sudden rage, grab the table cloth and whisk all the dishes on con<
the floor. He repeated these p(rformar,ces—to my natural *“•”
humiliatton in various restaurants of Paris and London. Was the '
that evidence of real insanity? ! vondered resei
aanaa
On this point I recalled with loathing, the testimony of the Jt
Merrill woman at the insanity hearing before Judge Mills, in stage
July, 1909 She had sworn, among other things, that when Harry even
had lived at her house ne would act like a gentleman when alope, anyw
but when he had company he would often pull the cloth off the pro g,
table, spilling the food or, the floor. Then he would run fran- j arge
tieally out of the room, striking at her as he left
In analyzing for myself the evidences of Harry’s insanity, I
j$$j§
Mrs. William Copley Thaw’s
in this comfortable home Harry’s mo'Wer se
imprisoned son—but Evelyn, the wife, was not’in