Mr. W. H. W., a gentleman connected with
the fine arts, and long known as a member of the London press, died last year.
He had through life borne a high character, and was remarkable for the general
urbanity of his manners and his benevolence. In society he appeared mirthful or
serene; but there were moments when he was strangely disturbed, and mournful
recollections seemed to overwhelm him with something more than grief. At times
he would start in great agitation, affected by a simple expression which had
touched a chord that fearfully vibrated through his whole
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What it was that at times disturbed him, it is not in the power of the writer to reveal. Though intimate with him for years, no explanation was ever volunteered. His liberal nature and unimpeachable integrity, as they gained him the affectionate regards of a large circle of friends, might have been expected to secure him from the hostility of every one. But that he had enemies, bitter and most terrible enemies, the following narrative, committed to paper, immediately after the circumstance and conversation it describes, will clearly demonstrate.
On Thursday, Dec. 21, 1821, A. and B., who had long
been on friendly terms with Mr. W., went to dine at the
Burton Ale-house, in Henrietta-street. While there they recollected that
Mr. W. lived in the neighbourhood (he then lodged, I
think, in Southampton (Bedford) street), and thought he would like to join
them. They sent a waiter to invite him to do so. Mr. W.
had visited Macclesfield a short time before, and to cause him some ludicrous
surprise, as well as to make him come more speedily, they ordered the man to
say that two gentlemen from Macclesfield desired to see him. The waiter went,
but returned with the answer that Mr. W. was out for the
evening. On leaving the tavern, the companions resolved, as he was to dine in
company with them on the following Monday, to play off a further joke on their
friend. They called at his
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Monday came, the party dined together, and Mr. W. was present, but did not withdraw, as A. and B., or A. at least, thought he would. In the course of the evening, B. spoke to Mr. W. about Macclesfield, but nothing remarkable occurred till the party had nearly left the dining-room, and A. and B. found themselves alone. It was then that B. told A. he had a most extraordinary communication to make respecting Mr. W. They were, however, interrupted, and no opportunity offered for making it that evening, but on the following Thursday they again met, and B. gave the following statement:—
“The revelation I have to offer will cause you great surprise. On the day after we called on W., and left word that two gentlemen from Macclesfield would wait on him again, I received a note from him couched in these terms:—
“‘Dear B.,—For God’s sake let me have a quarter of an hour’s conversation with you, at your own house before you go to dinner, on a matter of VITAL importance to me. Your half distracted,
“‘P.S. Pray mention this to no human being.’
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“The word ‘vital,’ B. continued, had three lines drawn under it. I confess I thought that he had detected us, and was playing off a counter-trick. I, however, returned the following answer:—
“‘Dear W.—I am afraid to flatter myself that you jest in your otherwise alarming letter.
“‘You will find me at home at four o’clock. Yours,
“I almost expected, when I went home, to find him laughing and dancing in the drawing-room; but on looking at him I found he was much disturbed. He spoke with a faltering voice, and altogether his aspect indicated the severest distress. ‘How can I,’ he exclaimed, ‘how can I tell you what I have to say?’ After some pause he proceeded:—
“‘I am reduced to such a situation that I have
no alternative but to put an end to my existence or to leave the country. Can
you, and will you, assist me with the means of doing the latter?’ I told
him that I knew he was accustomed to view some things in a very peculiar light,
and begged of him to impart what he had on his mind to some of his friends,
with the expectation that they would convince him that neither of the steps
which he contemplated were necessary. This he declared it was useless to do.
His case was one in which argument could be of no avail. He said he must quit
the country, though the idea of leaving his connexions in England gave him
great pain. I endeavoured to draw from him his secret, that I might advise him
upon it, but in vain. He begged of me to ask no questions, and declared that he
would answer none, but demanded of me whether I
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“I then made a new attempt to draw from him the cause of his distress, but to no purpose. Suddenly a thought flashed across my mind that there might be some connection between his present conduct and our prank of Thursday. I was about to leave the apartment to procure the cash he wanted, but I now paused, and fixing my eyes steadily on him, said:
“‘Before I comply with your request I have one question to ask.’
“‘I will answer none,’ was his reply.
“Upon this I placed my back against the door, and retorted on him in a peremptory tone—
“‘You must not leave this room till you have given an answer to one question.’
“He seemed struck by the determination of my manner, and, after some hesitation, desired to know on what subject I wished to interrogate him.
“‘Tell me,’ said I, ‘if that which disturbs you was communicated to you yesterday?’
“‘It was,’ he replied.
“‘Did you hear of it before you went home at night?’
“He wildly asked—‘Why do you ask—why, why? No, it was not told to me before I went home at bed-time.’
“I now,” continued B., “felt convinced of that which before I had, I know not why, suspected, and I went on to say—‘W., you must yet answer me a third question:—Does that which has moved you arise out of anything that you were told about two gentlemen from Macclesfield?’
“On being thus addressed, he ran up to me with an air of wildness not to be described, seized my coat, and impetuously exclaimed—
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“Good God! what do you mean? Yes it was!” I then told him to be calm; and added, ‘it was I and was and A. called, and by way of a joke left that message.’ He looked greatly amazed; a crowd of thoughts seemed running through his mind, and being scarcely able to stand, he threw himself on the sofa in great disorder, completely overcome by his feelings, and remained for some time incapable of speech. What he could have imagined, or what may be the cause of conduct so extraordinary, I cannot guess. In the course of our conversation he assured me, in the most positive manner, that he was not leaving the country in consequence of anything that could be thought dishonourable; and that he was not flying from the officers of justice, or seeking to avoid danger of that sort. How singular the accident! Had he applied to any one else, excited as he was, he might have carried his point without being questioned, and have been, through a joke, an exile from his country for life. No person in existence but yourself could have prevented his flight by supplying the requisite information, and it might not have occurred to you to put those questions which I happened to ask.”
The writer knew Mr. W. for many years subsequently, but no explanation of this strange affair was ever given. Beyond the annoyance of the moment, he is not aware that Mr. W. in any way suffered through it, but consequences more serious than those which seemed likely to grow out of it have seldom been seen in real life as the result of what was meant to be a perfectly friendly and harmless joke. It was thought prudent never to make the incident a topic of conversation. Silence has been observed for more than twenty years, but the grave having closed over the lamented individual, whom it concerned, the incident is no longer deemed a secret.
