CRIME AND MYSTERY.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 192, 15 August 1925, Page 23

CRIME AND MYSTERY.

BLOTS ON THE 'SCUTCHEON.

(By HORACE WYNDHAM.)

The case of Mrs. Langworthy, 6o far as It occupied the Law Courts, began in 18S3, and ended In 1887. Between these years is a tale of a man's heartless deception, of a woman's blind trust, of sorrow and suffering, and of bitter ignominy and courageous endurance that can seldom have been paralleled.

The first chapter begins in the autumn of 1877, when there arrived in London a young Irish girl with the intention of earning her livelihood there by teaching. The plan was not so hopeless as might perhaps be imagined, for the newcomer had exceptional qualifications. Her name was Mildred Sabine Pallißer Long, and she was then about twenty years old. Of good family, her father, a retired officer, was agent to the Marquis of Downshlre, and her mother was the daughter of a wellknown clergyman.

From her childhood, (Mildred Long was of a studious disposition. In the year 1873, while still a schoolgirl, she entered herself for the women's examination held by the University of Dublin. She passed among the nrst half-dozen candidates, with honours in modern languages, classics and mathematics.

The time was to come when the certificates she had gained were to stand her in good stead. Without a moment's warning, her father lost all his savings. Determined not to be a burden upon him, Mildred resolved to became self-supporting. The career for which she-was best fitted was obviously that of teaching.

With this object in view, Mildred Long went to London. She had no friends there and very little money—a dangerous position for a young and attractive girl. The scholastic agencies to which she applied were full of airy promises and demands for fees," a disheartening experience. However, she secured a post in a school at Chlswick; and was afterwards appointed head mistress of a ladies' college at Norwich.

After a time she went to Paris, stopping at the quiet, but ultra-respectable, Hotel Bedford. It was an age of bonnets and bustles and chaperons. There was no difficulty about the latter, for an irreproachable one existed in the presence of Lady Honoria Cadogan.

A Wealthy Wooer. It was while they were In Paris that Mildred Long met Edward Martin Langworthy. Lady Honoria felt lt Incumbent upon her to make discreet Inquiries as to his circumstances. The result was highly satisfactory, for she gathered that he was a wealthy widower, with cotton mills in Lancashire, huge estates in the Argentine, and a magnificently appointed yacht, the .upkeep of which cost £7000 a year. He had been to Eton and Oxford, and belonged to one or two good clubs, and his late ,wife. Lady Alice Pery, had been a daughter of the second Earl of Limerick.

Edward Langworthy let it be seen from the- moment he met her that he was attracted by Miss Long; and Lady Honoria, being something of a matchmaker, regarded his attentions with approval. Thus encouraged, he proposed in the correct Victorian form of the early eighties. Mildred, however, who was not thinking of marriage jußt then, refused him. Still they parted good friends, and arranged to meet in London during the following summer.

When summer came, the man she had met in Paris came with it. They had several meetings, for Mildred Long found the routlneexistence of a dally governess, to which career she bad returned, rather dull and Edward Langworthy brought •ome relief into lt. He was good looking, in the prime of life, and clearly devoted to her When he chose to exert himself, he could be very agreeable. He did choose to exert himself. It was after coming back from a matinee of the new Gilbert and Sullivan opera -Patience," that Langworthy again asked her to marry him. This time Mildred Long said ""»• Edward Langworthy's special wish was _rr_-s_-s: s_ s£ , !__is w «r-_'* „an, she consenw September morning in 188-, tney Cherbo-J. A couple of days after they had arrived there, Langworthy pressed her to drive with Sm to Caen, to see a Catholic Church. •Tve a particular reason for wanting yon to come," he said mysteriously. ___^-^-_S-r s_s_rA--sr%_s _=_ _.___• =£B breath away, for her companion suddenly announced that he had arrangedl to marry her there, and that everything was ready. Mildred Long was startled, and naturally raised objections. Langworthy, however, who had a masterful d_po»t»on. Hit them down. He had made all his P ans, he said, and the priest *U .ready. Scarcely knowing what she was doing Milled following him into the church let Jtagnlde her to a chair in *o_«* the altar. A priest appeared, and read a service in Latin; and, at the proper moment, Edward Langworthy slipped a wedding ring on her finger. "Now we're married," he exclaimed trinmpbantly, "and nothing can part ns. "But—but— where is the certificate? .tammered the girl beside him, feeling a little uneasy *t this hole-and-corner method of doing such an important thing as getting married. _ "Oh, as we've bad a French priest, we don't want one," was the airy response. Notwithstanding her remarkable intellectual powers, Mildred was so lacking in knowledge of the world that she accepted this statement without demur. None the less she Insisted that there should be a second marriage ceremony, to be performed on this occasion by an English clergyman. Langworthy advanced no objection, but he suggested that the re-marriage .should be solemnised in AntwerpSince one place was as good as another, Mildred agreed; and,- on January 10. ISB3, they went to the house of the Rev. Dr. Potts a minister of the American Presbyterian Church. There the ceremony was conducted in the presence of two English witnesses, and Mildred was made happy by being banded a formal certificate of marriage. Disillusion. Edward Langworthy next proposed a trip in the yacht to South America. As her Bister Edith was to accompany them on the trip, Mildred agreed readily enough. Langworthy. however, insisted that the marriage ■honld not be notified to Us mother nntil _ year had pawed. Bhe had not yet given ker consent, he explained, and she _i*ht d__htrft him.

CASE OF MRS. LANGWORTHY—A HEARTLESS DECEPTION.

Mildred felt hurt at this want of confidence on the part of her husband. The time, too, was coming when she would want all his sympathy and tenderness. One night, as they were getting near Bnenos Aires, when she knew for certain that her hopes would be realised, she whispered her secret to him. But, instead of the joy with which she had expected it to be received, he turned upon her furiously, his face distorted with passion. "Good God!" he exclaimed, "if you have a child it will ruin mc. The marriage cannot possibly be kept secret then." "But why on earth should it, Edward?" she said, wondering If her husband had suddenly lost his senses. "Because it isn't a marriage at all, that's why." "What do you mean?" she cried, staggering at the blow. "Just what I say. The French priest at Caen was a sham." "But —but—the second service at Antwerp ?" "Pooh, that doesn't count either. Under Belgian law a marriage is not legal until it has been ratified before the civil authorities. What do you say to that?" Mildred Langworthy said nothing. She was beyond saying anything, for she had fallen In a dead faint on the cabin floor. While the woman he had ruined still lay unconscious, Langworthy, feeling that there was no time to be lost, ransacked her Inggage, and took from it all his letters and every scrap of evidence that he bad gone through any form of marriage with her. Then, directly the yacht reached Buenos Aires, he put her and her sister Ediui on board a homeward-bound steamer.

It was a terrible voyage back to England, for the vessel was only a wretched tramp. During the thirty-three days that lt lasted, Mrs. Langworthy nearly died for lack of proper attention. Her sister Edith did what she could. But lt was a hard struggle, for she was little more than a schoolgirl.

The moment she reached London, Mrs. Langwortny resolved to consult a solicitor, secure Justice for herself and her unborn child. By sheer chance she walked Into the office of the best-known Arm In England. She was received there with every courtesy. It was a remarkable, bnt unfortunate, coincidence, however, that this Arm happened to be the very one employed by her husband. Thus, it was Impossible that they could also act for her.

Sick at heart, and wondering what to do next, Mrs. Langworthy walked away from the office In Holborn. Some good genius led her faltering footsteps to Conduit Street. On the brass plate of one of the houses there she saw tho legend 'Solicitors." Going inside, she told her story. She had no proof to substantiate it, but there was conviction in every word she uttered. The head of the firm was Impressed. In fact, so much so that he Instantly volunteered to take up the case and start proceedings for restitution of conjugal rights. He then sent a formal notice to Mr. Langworthy at Buenos Aires.

In the meantime, Mrs. Langworthy went through the ordeal of motherhood. As soon as she was recovered she made a fresh attempt at reconciliation; by writing to her husband, to tell him of the birth of a daughter, and, thinking that lt would please her, also to his mother, a rich woman, who lived In Essex. No answer came from the former; and the letter she had written to her mother-in-law was returned without comment. To add insult to injury, the envelope was addressed "Miss Mildred Long." Fight for Justice. The citation was personally served upon Edward Langworthy in Buenos Aires. He waß so startled that he instantly returned to London, to file an answer. It was to the effect that "no form or ceremony of marriage had ever taken place." This was a characteristic and cunning move, since It prevented an alimony order being made until the actual trial of the cause. Mrs. Langworthy's predicament was then a terrible one. She had been doubly duped. Her resources were almost exhausted. She had no employment, and no prospect of obtaining any, because her position was equivocal. She had been through two forms of marriage, but Bhe was neither a wife nor a widow. Also, she now bad a child to support.

As a last resource, she sent a piteous appeal to her husband: —

"Dear Edward.—My many letters to you have been unanswered. .. . All this should deter mc from writing, but I have a strong motive. Ton once said: 'If we have a child, I should like It to be a girl.' It is of this little girl I would write. Before this wretched suit advances farther, come and see our little one, a child of whom any father might be proud—so lovable, winning, and Intelligent. . . . Many, I know will censure mc for writing to you, but I cannot reproach myself with omitting to do my best for our child.—Tour faithful wife, Mildred Langworthy." There was no answer. Long and wearisome delays followed, for Langworthy set up one obstacle after another in bringing the matter to an Issue. He had money, and could do almost anything. Mrs. Langworthy had no money, and could do almost nothing. Still, in June, 1885, the case was so far advanced that she was able to go into Court. The action was heard before Sir James Hannen. It did not last long, for, almost immediately, Charles Russell rose and made an astonishing statement.

"My Lord," he said, "we admit everything. We only challenge the legality of the marriage."

Sir James Hannen, whose sympathies were clearly with Mrs. Langworthy, had no choice but to rule that the Antwerp ceremony, although a marriage de -facto, was invalid. In the exercise of his discretion, however, he ordered that she should have custody of the child, all the costs she had Incurred, and alimony to the amount of £1200 a year.

A woman can be very comfortable when _ 1200 a year Is paid her, and very uncomfortable when it Is not. The latter was Mrs. Langworthy's experience. Far away in his luxurious Argentine palace, Edward Langworthy snapped his fingers at Sir James Hannen and the rulings of the High Court of Justice of England.

The result was that the woman he had wronged had now to endure a more bitter experience than ever in a weary search for employment She refused nothing that would keep body and soul together. For a short time she was an attendant at an exhibition staU; and, when she could get the work, she earned a miserable pittance by addressing envelopes. She lived in wretched lodgings, paying 7/ a week for an attic in Bloomsbury. She came to know the inside of pawnshops; and she even had to accept a small sum from the Charity Organisation Society. Tarn of the Tide. .But, when things were at their darkest, a light suddenly dawned. The editor of an evening paper took up her case, and presented it moreover to such purpose in his columns that it roused the practical sympathise l of the public. A snbscrljtloa list

was opened. All classes' supported it; and money was sent by iLP.'i, peers, barristers, butlers. Journalists, naval and military officers, and working men and women.

At the end of six months Mr. Langworthy's solicitors applied to have the provisional decree annulling the marriage made absolute. Mr. Justice Butt refused. The decree, he said, had been granted on condition that alimony should be paid, and this condition had not been met. There was an appeal. It was dismissed with costs. Mr. Langworthy, for once, was not having things all his own way.

The dismissal of the appeal did not help Mrs. Langworthy to recover what was due to her. This, with arrears, now amounted to nearly £3000. Rather than pay a farthing, Mr. Langworthy permitted himself to be served with a bankruptcy notice. A writ was secured to levy distraint upon goods which he was having sent to him abroad. Thereupon, Mr. Langworthy's mother declared that they belonged to her. As, however, they consisted largely of pairs of trousers and other articles of purely masculine attire, it was difficult to see why she should own them. The court. Indeed, found It so difficult to understand this that Judgment was given against her son. The writ was served on Edward Langworthy in Buenos Aires, and an order was made that a certain sum should be lodged by him within seven days. The order was treated with contempt. When the debtor, following his usual practice, entered an appeal from the bankruptcy petition, lt was dismissed. "Surely, Mr. Flnlay," said Lord Justice Fry, "you do not defend Mr. Langworthy'a conduct?" "No, my Lord," returned counsel, whose blunt honesty made lt impossible for him to do anything else, "I cannot defend it." Having thus tried, but without success, every other method of getting the money that was her due, Mrs. Langworthy was now compelled to try the sole one left her by the Legislature. This was to bring an action for breach of promise of marriage. It was an odd position in which she found herself. As a wife, she was entitled to maintenance. The marriage was disputed. Yet, it was not annulled. Alternatively, If she were not a wife, the respondent had undoubtedly promised to marry her. Tragic Aftermath. ""* The action was launched, and Mr. Langworthy did not come forward to defend it Judgment was accordingly given against him. When the case was referred to the Official Receiver for the assessment *of damages, it was announced that Mrs. Langworthy was to receive a sum of £20,000, together with costs. Further, she was to be paid arrears of alimony and maintenance for the child at the rate of £500 a year. The payments having been made, the bankruptcy proceedings were then annulled. Mrs. Langworthy'a victory was thus complete; and at last there was an end to the four long years of struggle with all the resources of wealth and unscrupulousness and Ilea and chicanery that bad been pitted against her.

Nobody knows what actuates the mind of a woman. In apite of (or perhaps of) all that she had endured, Mildred Langworthy forgave the man at whose hands she had suffered so much. Perhaps she remembered that he was the father of her child. Still, what her reason was does not matter. It only concerned herself. The fact remains that she eventually rejoined him. Everybody hoped that some years of happiness would then be hers. But this was not to be. Scarcely had she gone back to her husband when she died suddenly. The next morning Edward Martin Langworthy committed suicide. A tragic ending to a tragic story.