A True Wife.

Auckland Star, Volume VI, Issue 1625, 1 May 1875, Page 5 (Supplement)

A True Wife.

AN EPISODE OF LIFE AT HOMBURG.

[From Chambers's Journal]

The Lutheran cemetery of Homburg vor der Hohe has no special attraction for a stranger unless it be the profusion of flowers which spring up round the graves. Roses red a white, and yellow, dahlias, geraniums, pansies, sweetwilliam, and a legion of wild-flowers, seem to mock with their gaiety the sad shadows of the grave-stones. Many of the monuments stand in a small plot of their own, fenced in ty a miniature palisade, and laid out in flower-beds and tiny paths, a space being left for a seat under a trellised canopy. These gardens are more generally left to the bounty

of nature than to the care of man, but occasionally may be seen a sombre figure stooping over a flower-bed, or trimming the borders of some loved inclo«ure.

I was strolling, one June evening, amid the

tombs and roses, when I saw the seat in one

of the little gardens occupied by a man clad in deep mourning. An Englishman, certainly, from his appearance, I at once judged him to

be, before I had heard the voice of a little brown-eyed, ruddy child, who was toddling about the paths, and stooping over the flowers. Not far from the spot stood a man-servant, hidden by the abor from the view of the visitors to the grave. The occupant of the

seat, who was a young man of neat, soldierJike appearance, was gazing vacantly upon the little girl, who was engaged in filling a wire basket with flowers, picked with no small amount of difficulty. When filled, this was carried to her father (for so I naturally guessed him to be), duly arranged by him, and then laid as an offering at the foot of the bright green mound. This done the child, clambering up her father's side on tho seat, asked him solemnly :—

"Will mother like to smell them, father ?"

" I am sure she will, darling,"was the reply. I was all this time concealed behind an adjoining monument, whence I watched every movement of the mourners who had so attracted my attention. Presently, the manBervant, coming forward, intimated that it was getting late, and, with an air of authority mingled with respect, opened the small gate of the inclosure for his master to pass out. The latter, kneeling for a moment with his forehead resting upon the cross which sprang from some ivy-clad rock-work at the head of tne grave, kissed the name inscribed, and, followed by his daughter, who insisted on shutting the gate herself with great carefulness, took the path to the entrance of the cemetery. As soon a3 they were out of sight. I hurried to the spot which" bad already awakened in me a strong feeling of curiosity, and read these words inscribed In gilt charac-

ter on a cross of white marble :—

Hier ruhet m Gott, Louise Margaretba Martyn, Geb. den 22 August, 1549. Gest den 3 Mai, 1870.

On the reverse of the cross, an English

inscription ran thus :—

Here rests in peace, Louise Margaret Martyn, the dearly loved wife of Cyril John Martyn, late a Captain in Her Britannic Majesty's th Hussars. > Born, 22 August, 1849. Died, 3 May, 1870.

After gazing sadly at these words, and noting much that I have described, I bent my way homeward, in a saddened state of feeling.

It was easy enough to read a tale of sorrow in what I had seen ; but there was something more to be read between the lines, I felt sure. The expression of the widower's face, and the authoritative manner of the servant, could not but mean something. However, I soon afterward entered the gardens of the Kurhaus, and mingled with the crowd of promenaders, My friend, Dr. Eichte, had asked me to sup with him that evening; he would be sure to know something about the Martyns, if there was anything worth telling, so that I did not fail to avail myself of his invitation. After our pleasant little meal, when the doctor had pulled down from the wall a china pipe, with a stem as tall as himself, and I had filled my own pipe with caporal, I told him what I had seen in the cemetery.

"Ah! there's a sad Btory about them, my friend, almost too sad for a happy meeting like the present ; but you shall hear it. It was in 1869, somewhat early in the season, that an English gentleman, named Martyn, called upon me for advice; He was a stronglooking man of athletic build, and had one of your regular English faces, expressive of coolness and resolve. From his appearance, I should have said that there was not a healthier man in Homburg; nor was it easy for me, after, a careful examination, to discover his ailment. But I need not tell you, that it is often the physician's duty to devote his attention to an imaginary sickness, and to listen with as interested an air to delusions as to real suffering. Without entering into any technical details, it will he enough for me to say that my patient described himself {is suffering from general debility and lack of energy. He said he was always losing ground, that luck was against him,-and that there must be some one thing radically wrong in his constitution, which prevented his playing a successful part in the world. He had tried all sorts of systems, as he called them, but they had failed miserably, and he was now a broken-down man He assured me that he had no mental cause of anxiety, thst he was perfectly happy in his domwitic relations, aud that he was not in any f" iegj hypochondriacal. 1 prescribed for hinjcourse of bathing, early hours, and regilsjxercise, and, on his taking leave, begg© .

for my wife to be allowed to make the a quaintance of Mrs. Martyn. This request you may understand, I made from a desire to have a few words' conversation with my patient's wife regarding his case. But as he grew fidgety and nervous on my making the proposal, I bade him good-bye with the hope of seeing him again in my own house. His manner had tended to confirm my rising apprehensions that my patient's desease was not of such a nature as we can minister to, and, ifter a second prolonged visit from him, I felt the absolute necessity of putting myself into personal communication with his wife. I had already made her acquaintance in the gardens and had been struck by her singular grace and sad beauty of expression. I called at their lodgings one day, after my afternoon's work, and was ushered at once into a small room at the top of the house, which was in Dorotheen-strasse, a street not much fre-

quented, as you know, by your countrymen. I found Martyn and his wife seated opposite to each other at a small table, on which was placed an oval board covered with green cloth and marked with the plan of a rouge-et-noir table. Opposite Mrs. Martyn, vi ho was acting as coupier, was placed the inventaire of the bank, consisting of rouleaux of gold and silver, two small boxes with compartments

for various peices of money, the talon of white marble for the taille of six packs of cards to stand on, and the basket into which the used cards are thrown. Martyn's back was turned toward me as I entered the room; his wife faced me, so that I caught at once her glance of anguish and anxiety, revealing in a moment the nature of her husband's ailment, which I had suspected to be beyond my power to euro: " 'Messieurs, faites le jeu,' called out the poor wife. "'Come, doctor, try your luck,' cried tho poor madman, as he placed four gold pieces on the red. 4 Our minimum is 2 florins, and I

never go higher than 100.'

" I put a couple of florins on the red. Mrs. Martyn called out: •Le jeu est fait, rien ne va plas;' dealt out in two lots the requisite number of cards ; and saying : ' Rounge perd —couleur gagne,' sweeps off her husband's gold and my florins, and takes some fresh cards from the talon for the next deal.

"Bowing to the poor croupier, whose sad, serious face told plainly enough what it cost her to keep her poor husband thus amused, I said adieu to my patient, from whom, however I had no small difficulty in getting away.

"'My dear doctor,' he said, 'if you will put down your hat; have a glass of iced water by your side, and follow my play steadily, your fortune is made. The bank has only an advantage of § per cant, which is double the chance "of the public tables here.' Then addressing his wife: ' Pardon, monsieur, voulez-vous bien me changer une note de trente-cinq gulden ?'

"However, I pleaded stress of work : promised to return before long, and have some steady play ; and hurried out; my heart wrung with the sound of ' Messieurs, faites le jeu,' as I went down the stair-case.

"In the evening of the same day I received a note from Mrs Martyn, in which she told me that she would call on me between 7 and 8 o'clock the next morning. At the appointed time, after my last patient had left. me, I ound the young lady awaiting our interview. But before I go Jon any further, you must know what she was like. She was very tall and slim, too tall for beauty, though her natural grace and ease removed any awkwardness that excessive height might have given her figure. Her head and features were rather small, and the natural color of her face—then pale —must have been fresh and thoroughly English. Her soft brown hair was tied behind into one [thick plait, which fell below her shoulders. As she swept into this room thtough the folding doors, my great pity for her was for the moment lost in admiration of her beauty. Sinking down on the sofa, she burst into an agony of tears. 'Forgive me, doctor; I cannot restrain, myself before you, for I know that you can feel for me. I

was unwilling to take up your time, but knowing that you would wish to be informed of all the circumstances attending my husband's illness, I have drawn up an account of the few months previous to the accident which led to it. When you have read it, I will consult you again.' She then leffc me the narrative, which I will now ask you to read before I complete the tale."

The doctor soon afterwards left me absorbed in the carefully written manuscript, which ran as follows:— "My dear husband had not a fault, as I thought, when I married him. Accomplished, good-humoured, handsome, every one loved him, and our first year's married life was unclouded by a speck of trouble. We had spent our winter's leave of absence in Germany, my hußband having wished to collect information about the Prussian military system, with the view of writing on the subject. We stopped here on our return, and one day, by way of i amusement, going up to the roulette-table in t the kursaal my husband put a napoleon on No. 19. which was then the number of my years. Round went the roulette, the ivory ball rattled, fell into 19, and my husband took up 35 napoleons besides the one he had staked. Pleased, as he could not help being, his face wore aa expression of something almost like shame, as we walked out of the rooms. ««I don't feel as if I had come by this

money honestly,' he said ; ' what shall I do with it?'

" Amid various projects, he decided to give a grand treat to the men of his troop, and relieve the families in the regiment that stood in need of help. Sad news awaited us on our arrival in England. Owing to the failure of an assurance company, my father-in-law, who held a large number of shares in it was deprived of all his fortune, and it seemed as if he must depend upon his friends for the ?ery means of subsistence. My husband effected an exchange to a regiment in India, and we were spending the last anxious weeks in my old home. He had left me for a few days to go to town on business, and I was eagerly looking out for a letter from him during this our first separation, when at last came the wished for envelope, with a foreign head on it and stamped with the post-mark, Homburg v. d. H. Eortunately I was alone as I read, almost terrified that my husband had gone to Homburg, with a view of winning a handsome sum of money with which to buy an annuity for his father. The success of his first venture in gaining 35 napoleons had in no sense demoralized him. He had now plunged into gambling ; commencing to play with great luck, and winning £500 on the first evening. This was almost doubled, the next day. He determined to leave when he had won £1500 but on the third day he left off play with a loss of £200 and en the fourth the whole of the rest of his winnings wore gone, together with the £100 he had taken out to play with. The anxiety I felt to be with my husband,

when I read this terrible letter, prevented

my yielding to anything like useless grief ; I got ready my travelling things in an hour, and telling my people at home that Cyril wanted to see me immediately on pressing business, I left our house in time to reach London by midday. Fortunately, on that very morning, a half-yearly dividend of money of my own had been forwarded to me in the customary way ; I cashed this at our banker's

and after passing a wretched afternoon in London, of course all alone, I left by the mail train for Brussels. I must tell tou that, wanting to rest somewhere, I wandered into

our academy exhibition of pictures and had there been at first staggered and then fascinated, by a large painting of a rouge-et-noir fable, surrounded by every representative of gambling life. Long did I stand leaning on the rail before the picture,

reading the history of every group, and find

ingmyown portrait in a young wife endeavouring to drag her husband from the scene. In twenty four hours after I had left London, as quickly as the letters travel, I was with my dear husband in Louisen-strasse. Oh, how

pale and wan he looked ! Bat the happiness I felt in once more being at his side to comfort him makes me look back to that meeting with more joy than sorrow. He kissed me so tenderly, asked how our little Edith was, and then, pulliug a chair to the table rested his head on his hand, and remained silent for a

minute or two.

"' O, Louise,' he said, 'I have ruined you,' and then he broke down completely. When I had had some tea, I told him cheerfully we may then talk of business. I bad brought £60 in £10 notes, which would pay any little debt he owed, and take us home. But my husband would not speak; sitting motionless, with his face buried in his hands. At last, as

I feared, came out worse news. He owed £150 to a banker in Homburg, and had bound himself to make over the proceeds of his commission, whenever he should sell out, to an English money-lender, who had advanced him a large sum at about 70 per cent interest. I would not show my husbaud what I felt on hearing this j and hard as th c struggle was, I tried to talk lightly of the loss. We must stay at Homburg until more of my dividends were sent to me, then hasten home and hurry out to India, where we could live on Cyril's pay, and perhaps send some pay of it to my father. My husband got more cheerful as evening.wore on; and as we walked through the Schloss garden into the cemetery, he said: • Well, I shan't have to lie here after all, Louise, having shot myself through despair.' Tired out as I was, I went to bed very early, and was soon asleep, when I was awakened by the noise of some one groping about near the dressing table.

" 'It is I, dear ; don't be alarmed,' said Cyril as I asked in terror who was there. ' I am only looking for my cigar-case.'

" He seemed as frightened as I was, and his voice trembled as he answered me. The next mornin , when I bad occasion to open my purse, all my notes were gone, and there was nothing in it but some bits of tobaccoleaf sticking to it as though it had been carried in the pocket with loose cigars. The purse had not been out of my possession till 1 had put it on the dressing-table at night. Oh the sad misery of the thoughts which flashed upon me! God forgive me if I wronged him, for he knew not what he was'doing. That money must havo followed the way of the , rest. Cyril must leave here at once. I would not stay for the remainder of the money, I expected. That morning, we had engaged horses for a ride to Saalburg, and I would urge upon my husband the necessity of his going away in the afternoon. We had hardly left the town when occurred the accident which deprived my dearest husband of his reason, My horse shied across the road at one of the little milk-carts drawn by dogs, and slipped quietly down into a ditch at the road-side, allowing me to step off without a scratch.

Qyril sprang on his horse, and rushed up to aisi^t me, when my animal, in his struggles to stand up, kicked my husband on the forehead, as he had stooped down to raise me. Erom th at moment he lay without sense or feeling for five days, with a great starred wound on his forehead, like the break which a stone ma kes in glass. Nothing but a slow, labored breathing and the irregular beats of his pulse, showed that he still lived, for his

eyes though open were quite insensible to the light. An operation for raising the depressed parts of the bone to their proper level had been successfully performed, and the symptoms generally seemed favourable to his recovery. It was not until he was unmistakeably out of danger that I thought of a consequence more terrible than death, and almost hoped that he might be taken from me if he was not to be restored whole. But it was not to be.

His memory and reason wero gone and the doctors would not deceive me, they said, with the hope af a cure. We sent for our child of course and are staying here for a time, as my poor husband is amused by the people and music and we havo some very kind friends here. The history of that toy rouge-et-noir table is this : One day during a quiet time, I ventured to take Cyril into the gaming-room I had thought poor fellow, that his mind was

too much of a blank to have been affected by the sight of the play, but he became so ex-

cited and anxious to be continually looking on that it was judged advisable to withdraw him entirely from the rooms. I contrived a miniature cable for him at home, where we play with counterfeit napoleons. He is under the delusion that he is always loosing money, and had often talked of going to consult a doctor on the subject, but had promised not to do this without telling me.

" I have now told you our story, which will perhaps, help to guide you in treating your patient. You will, I know, pardon me if I havo wearied you."

The forgoing narrative had so impressed me that the only words I addressed to Dr. Fichtc as ho re-entered the room, were : " And the sequel doctor ? What befell this treasure of a woman ?

" I was naturally anxious," said my friend " that the Martyns should leave Homburg without delay, their sojourn here being as bad for the husband's condition as it was painful to the wife. But there were difficulties attending the step. Mrs. Martyn, though she would have braved mo3t things on tlie poor fellow's behalf seemed to shrink most sensitively from the idea of meeting their relations in England. He was in good bodily health, she was greatly comforted by the society of some kind friends, and they were able to live here more economically than they could have done in England : so that it was decided that tiny should pass at all events, the ensuing winter in Homburg. We saw a good deal of them during those months, Martyn was quiet and tractable : and his wife would brighten up as she saw him romp ing with their child or eagerly exicited over a game of backgammoft. with my wife. It seemed indeed, as though her life might not be the blank it had threatened to be filled up as it now was by care for her husband, and affection for her child. The hope, too, was ever present with her that the great trouble might pass away, and that this was to be but a sad chapter in the story of their lives. Bui with the spring came more sorrow. April had been unsually cold, when a short summer o great heat set in for a week. One day, Mrs. Martyu called to ask my advice respecting her little girl, who had caught a cold, and wae otherwise ailing, from having sat out too latt in the gardens. I returned with her toDorotbeen strasse, and found the child struggling for breath, and showing all the symptoms of a severe attack of diptheria. Capt. Martyn was committed to the charge of some friends, but his wife, I need scarcely tell could not b> persuaded to leave her child's side. The next day the little sufferer was worse and gave such , manifest signs of sinking, that it seemed unnecessary to prepare her mother for the end. Por three days she had been by her child's side giving it ammonia every second hour, fumigating the room, and changing the linen. She would do everything herself from a feeling, as she told me, that no one would so faithfully carry out my injunctions. On the fourth day when we knew that the crisis must come, the child began to mend, and, in a few hours I was able to gladden the mother by telling her that all immediate danger was over. I urged upon lier the advisability of now leaving tlie patient to professional care, as the fear of contagion still existed. But she would not move from the house ; and as the child slowly advanced toward recovery, so she began to sickeD from the same deadly disease. In three days all was over, her powers of resisting the complaint being exhausted by her previous labors. I followed her to the grave where she now lies, and have taught her husband and child to take a pride in adorning it. Ec is happily saved from the real consciousness of his loss. We see much of misery and vice here, but also something of the beauty of goodness. I have done."

Our pipes had long since gone out, while I listened to this sad story. I could not trust myself to revisit the cemetery. # # # # *

I was at Hombnrg in the following year, and soon found myself at the grave which had so fascinated me the previous year. Another cross exactly similiar to the old one, stood at tne head of a very fresh mound, with an in.

scription recording that Cyril Martyn also here rest 9in peace. Little Edith was waiting in charge of the Fichtes, to be sent to her mother's relations in Eagland.