LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2683, 13 November 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

MISS oKEWSOME’S HOBBY, [From “Truth.”

Mias Grewsome was a: spinster lady of uncertain age and substantial means. She lived comfortably, not to say luxuriantly, in a snug little house near Park-lane, and her dinners were as unexceptionable as the guests who ate them. Most of Miss Grcwsome’s acquaintances were connected with the legal profession, either by virtue of some official position, or as members of the two legal branches, and from this circumstance it might be supposed that Miss Grewsome was addicted to litigation. This was by means the case, however, for Miss Grewsome knew the value of her money, and had no inclination to imperil it in the glorious uncertainty of the law. But as unmarried ladies with ample means and leisure need some innocent hobby or intellectual pux-anit to elevate their minds and exercise their intellects. Miss Grewsomo had selected for her amusement a pursuit which caused her assiduously to cultivate legal acquaintances. It was this amiable lady’s idiosyncracy to haunt the Criminal Courts of Justice, and to attend every trial for murder, or every notorious case which took place within a reasonable distance of the metropolis. Miss Grewsome took infinite pains to cultivate the acquaintance of persons *vho were able to assist her in tho pursuit of her amiable occupation, and managed to acquire so much interest in the proper quarters, that she generally attained the privilege of a seat in the reserved part of the Court when anything startling was on. But when a murder of a peculiarly atrocious description, or a divorce case more than usually revolting in its details, was in question, so great was the rush for these reserved places, and so determined the scheming for cards of admission, that Miss Grewsome sometimes found her efforts unavailing. On such occasions she would gallantly struggle in with the crowd and stand -on tiptoe at ■ the hack of the Court, though she found it very irritating to see Mrs Simpson, Lady Jones, or Miss Brooks, or other friends of the same tastes as herself, comfortably ensconsed at a point of vantage from whence they could watch the varied emotions of the prisoner at the bar without craning their necks, and pleasantly regale themselves with sherry and sandwiches.

A keen rivalry, therefore, of course, existed between Miss Grewsome and'some of her lady friends to obtain the privilege of a seat in Court on remarkable occasions. Upon the whole. Miss Grewsome was most successful, for her wealth and her excellent dinners stood her in good stead j but Lady Jones had a decided advantage in cases tried within the precincts of the city—her worthy husband holding Aldermanic rank ; while Miss Brooks was distinctly related to one of her Majesty’s Judges, who had not the heart to refuse his fair relation the cheap favors she solicited. Mrs Simpson was pretty,' and a flirt, and had an entourage of admiring young barristers who were able to further her predilection ; and there were others who had special interest which secured them the much-coveted cards of admission. It was quite a pleasant little coterie, this group of frequenters of Old Bailey trials, and staunch upholders of the privilege of every true born Briton to be present at the administration of justice ; and really what with the excitement, the sensation, the laughter, and the instruction, a mysterious, indecent, unwholesome case afforded, a day passed in the close atmosphere of an ill-ventilated Court was well worth the headache it cost.

This was Miss Grewsome’s opinion at all events ; and consequently, when the notorious Bridgman case came on, involving a brutal murder, an attempted suicide, beside minor, though hardly less revolting, charges, the poor lady was quite distracted when she failed, by hook or by crook, to obtain a card of admission to the Court. On the night before the trial she received a visit of condolence from Miss Brooks, who was in the same forlorn condition as herself. It was some consolation to Miss Grewsome that her friend had also been unsuccessful, for these two ladies were very jealous of one another, and if one was ‘ in at the death ’ (to use a not inappropriate simile) when the other was not, heart-burning and bitter envy infallibly resulted. Upon this occasion they condoled with each other and chatted quite pleasantly over the tragedy to be tried the next day. Miss Brooks related in tones of pathetic regret how the murderer was a most■ interesting person, and how his wife insisted on being present during the proceedings, so that there was certain to be what the newspapers call ‘ a harrowing scene/ Miss Grewsome became quite excited, and proposed that she and her friend should go early to the Court, and take their chance of finding a place in the space allotted to the public, to which Mias Brooks consented, provided her cousin, the Judge, who was away on circuit, failed to send her a card of admission to the reserved places. Miss Brooks uttered this proviso just as she was taking her departure, and from her tone and manner Miss Grewsome felt assured that the coveted admission would surely arrive, and that her friendly visit of pretended condolence was only a mean, underhand way of parading her good fortune. The more. Miss Grewsome reflected on her friend’s conduct, the more angry and indignant she felt. She had looked forward to being present at the Bridgman trial for a long time, and could not bear the thought of that scheming, detestable Miss Brooks having the advantage of her on such an important occasion. By way of soothing herself. Miss Grewsome, hunted up the newspaper containing the report of the coroner’s inquest upon Bridgman’s victim, but far from its having the desired effect, this interesting document only increased her disappointment, and made her more envious of her friend. Her irritation increased to such a pitch that she could not rest quietly in her arm-chair, and, almost before she knew what she was about, she had slipped on her bonnet and shawl for the purpose of returning her friend’s visit and giving her a piece of her mind if she found her guilty , of the meanness she suspected. Miss Grewsome was a strong-minded person, as the nature of her hobby testified, and she did not hesitate about going out alone late at night. Besides, Miss Brooks lived close at hand, in furnished apartments, and in a few moments Miss Grewsome found herself in her friend’s sitting-room. Miss Brooks had retired to rest early, in order, no doubt, to fortify herself for tomorrow’s dissipation, and when Miss Grewsome peeped into her bedroom, she discovered that her friend was fast asleep. A night-light was burning on the table by the bedside, on which lay a very formidable little revolver conveniently within reach of the sleeper’s hand. Apparently Miaa Brook’s familiarity with the various phases of criminal life had not bred contempt for prudent, precautions. Miss Grewsomo was about to withdraw silently, when her eye lighted upon a letter which also lay upon the table. At a glance she recognised the handwriting of the Hon. Mr Justice Brooks; and never doubting that its purport was favorable to her friend’s desire. Miss Grewsome was seized with a paroxysm of rage and envy. By a sudden inspiration, she conceived the notion of revenging herself upon Miss Brooks by appropriating her admission card. What a signal triumph it would be not only to deprive her friend of the privilege she was so proud of, but also to turn the tables upon her by usurping her place at the trial! Miss. Grewsome gave a grim chuckle and adyanced cautiously into the room. With two strides she reached the bedside and clutched at the judge’s letter; but in doing so she awoke the sleeper. Miss Brooks uprose, gaunt and determined, and, seizing the revolver, presented it at the head of the intruder. Miss Grewsome uttered a terrified scream and grasped her friend’s hand. A short struggle ensued, and before Miss Grewsome could explain who she was, the pistol went off, and Miss Brooks fell back oh her pillow, shot through the heart. Thus, by the irony of fate, did it happen that poor Miss Grewsome one day found herself standing in the dock in the wellremembered Court at the sessions house, where, in happier times, she had passed so many pleasant hours I The strange fami-

arity of the scene made her more keenly sensible of the ignominy of her position. There was the Judge sitting quiet and dignified upon the bench : to the left was the jury-box, containing the twelve good men and true, who stared at her openmouthed ; the barristers’ benches were thronged with now-wigged juniors, and the reporters, note-book in hand, with pencils sharpened at both ends, sat ready for the fray. A gasping, eager, struggling crowd filled the body of the Court; all eyes wore turned toward her with vulgar curiosity ; while already artists were busy making furtive sketches of her. The unhappy lady cast a startled glance around, and shrank within herself. Suddenly, her attention was riveted by a woman’s voice, saying, in an audible whisper, in educated tones, ‘ How very glad I am to have got so good a place.’ The words acted on the prisoner like an electric shock. Their heartlessness, their callousness, their cynical selfishness jarred upon her nerves and produced a feeling of fierce indignation. Looking in the direction from whence the voice proceeded, the prisoner beheld pretty Mrs Simpson, perched on a bench close by among the young barristers, attired in a bewitching costume, and holding an opera.glass in her well-gloved hand. Almost involuntarily the prisoner turned her eyes to the part of the Court reserved for privileged spectators, and was inexpressibly shocked and startled to behold a group of welldress persons of her own sex, whom neither common decency nor pity for the misery of a fellow creature could restrain from gratifying their morbid vanity and love of vulgar excitement. It is a curious psychological fact that irrelevant and comparatively trifling matters will obtrude themselves oh a person’s mind at the most critical moments in life. Throughout the trial, fraught with such terrible import to her. Miss Grewsome could not help wondering, with newlyawakened loathing, at the cold-blooded conduct of these female vampires, who had come to feed their morbid minds upon the unwholesome excitement afforded by a criminal investigation. Their smiles, their whisperings, their complacent demeanour, and their cold, watchful regard, irritated the unhappy woman almost beyond endurance, and materially increased the horrors of the situation. The recollection that she had herself often sat among them occurred to her less as a reproach than as an additional reason for resenting their presence, for she knew from experience how completely women who attend such trials disregard the feelings of the wretched creature whose life is at stake, and how callous they are as to his or her fate. Hence the indignant eloquence of the prosecuting counsel, the heroic efforts of the counsel for the defence, the evidence of the much-enduring witnesses, and the summing up of the judge, were listened to by the prisoner with divided attention. Even the thrilling moment when the jury left the box to consider their verdict did not cause her serious emotion, for she knew that Mrs Simpson, and Lady Jones, and the rest would profit by the lull in the proceedings to have a pleasant chat and to regale themselves with a light refreshment, and the thought of such heartless levity on such a solemn occasion filled her with furious indignation and resentment. At length came the period calculated to try the nerves of the most hardened prisoner, and to restrain all wandering thoughts. The jury returned a verdict of guilty, and the J udge, with paled face and subdued accents, commenced to pronounce the awful sentence of the supreme punishment for the vilest of human misdeeds. As he uttered the fatal words —“ to be hung by the neck till you are dead,” a gleam of sunlight suddenly broke through the murky atmosphere, and shone straight into the prisoner’s eyes. Miss Grewsome woke with a start, and found the bright morning sun streaming in upon her upturned face over the top of the drawing-room shutters. • She had fallen asleep in her arm chair over the newspaper which she had taken up when Miss Brooks left her the previous evening. It was difficult to believe that the vivid scenes she had witnessed had only occurred in a dream. Miss Grewsome’s nerves were so terribly shaken that she could scarcely find strength to crawl to her room. The result was that when, a few hours later. Miss Brooks called in accordance with her engagement, her friend excused herself from going to the Court on the ground of indisposition. Let :us hope her vision had suggested to, her that it is neither womanly nor charitable to seek amusement where a fellowcreature is on hia trial for his life, and those women who unsex themselves by listening to cases which deal with unwholesome subjects are a disgrace to civilisation and dishonor the memory of the mother who bore them.