DUAL PERSONALITY

Greymouth Evening Star, 25 November 1927, Page 2

DUAL PERSONALITY

STORY OF SEVEN FRAUDS. Mr Hyde, the sinister second personality in Robert Louis Stevenson’s famous masterpiece, failed in his extremity to revert to the kind of decorus Dr Jekyll. He was mastered by a potion of his own mixing. In many ways such a theme of dual personality became real in the life of George Charles Brandon Collier, aged 37, a self-confessed drunkard and drug addict, who, when he comes out of prison, is going to “try the simple Christian way” in an effort to become the other, and better, man that he should have been by birth and education. Collier, a tall, gentlemanly-looking man of striking physique, fell so far down the social ladder under the influence of alcohol and drugs that he ended in perpetrating mean frauds on the matrons of two London nursing homes and thereby obtained credit to the extent of eight guineas. He was actually arrested in bed while being attended by a nurse at one of the homes. Described as an insurance broker and stated to be the nephew of a peer, Collier revealed how he had failed to redeem himself in an emotional plea that he addressed to the Maraylebone Magistrate. He was born in Calcutta. An old English public school boy, in the course of his career he had transacted business in various parts of the world and had handled thousands of'pounds. The tragedy of his life, however, was disclosed in a few lines of a long and poignant statement that he made. “The fact is,” Collier declared from the dock, “I possess a dual personality. When normal, like most other people, I loathe and despise myself for the disreputable things I perpetrate when under the influence of alcohol and drugs, and, although conscience is entirely deadened -by my over-indulgence in these artificial stimulants, t can hardly have the effrontery to put the circumstances forward as extenuating my conduct.” Collier appealed to the magistrate to pay particular regard to what he was saying, because it was, he asserted, the truth. He proceeded:—“Much to my shame I have to make the horrifying confession that I am a confirmed . drunkard. As the police can testify, I come from a highly respectable family and am the son of a man who has retired to Kent after being in business for forty years. He spent a considerable sum in giving me a good education and afforded me splendid opportunities for carving out a brilliant career for myself; but, as my present position makes plain, I have entirely failed to appreciate those opportunitie“The most manly thing I can do in the circumstances is to tell you frankly that there is not a single redeeming feature about my disgraceful and callous conduct; nor, has there been for a matter of three years. It would be cowardly to suggest that my ancestors have left me a loathsome legacy of bad blood and alcoholism, because it is not so. These wild, whirling bouts of alcohol are rather the outcome of my having disregarded the advice of my good father in early days, and of my having sought the association of others. There is one thing that I particularly wish to mention, which in view of my record, probably sceptics

will scoff at; but I tell it to you in all truth and sincerity. “During the pdst few days, while on remand, I have been communing with my Maker—a thing I have not done for an almost unforgettable period—and I have realised in consequence of my communion that the cause of my not being successful in shaping the course of my various chances in life is because I have endeavoured to do so with unwarrantable and blasphemous pride, and without seeking Divine aid. Next time—if there is a next time—l shall try the simple Christian way. I should particularly like to thank the police for the courteous and considerate way in which they have treated me. It is not’ for me to ask for mercy.” ( With a dramatic gesture Collier maintained that had he been given a real opportunity to reform, instead of being offered “insipid, nauseating charity,” such as was offered him after his release from a monastic institution, he would not be standing in the dock thUt day like a rat in a trap. Finally, he implored the magistrate to remember that he had killed the affections of those he had cared for, but that he had not fallen so low that he did not realise the pain caused by his conduct. The veil that had so far cloaked Collier’s many misdeeds was lifted by Detective-Sergeant McTaggart, who gave evidence that during the past three years Collier had been six times convicted for fraud. One conviction carried with it sentence of six months’ imprisonment for obtaining more than £lOOO by fraud. Collier was only liberated from prison on September 14, and the very same day he went to the Nottingham Place nursing home the worse for drink. He represented himself to be a man of means with whom money was no object and declared that he wanted the best attention for a fortnight to drive the drink out of his system. The matron consented to take him in. The next morning he left, ostensibly to obtain money at his bank, but he never returned. He then hired a taxicab and induced the driver to drive him about London. Incidentally, he incurred a debt of £23 with the cabman. The Magistrate: What, £23? Sergeant McTaggart: Yes, some, was for board and lodging, but the major portion was in hard cash. The taxicab man wrote to Collier at Brixton Prison, stating that he would not prosecute him for what he had done. The Magistrate: A very kind and affable cabman. Sergeant McTaggart: And, if I may suggest, a very foolish one. The detective-sergeant added that the taxicab man drove Collier to the second nursing home, where he told a tale similar to that which he had related at the other home. The matron however, knew what had happened at the first place and communicated with the police while Collier was in bed. The magistrate, passing sentence of nine months’ imprisonment, observed that what Collier had told him was probably true, but it was his duty to protect society against him. He had cleverly defrauded the matrons of the two nursing homes and ( the sentence he had passed was the least that could be given Collier ,for such mean tricks.