A Human Sacrifice on the Altar of Love.
EVELYN NESBIT THAW BEGINS STORY OF TRAGIC FATE AT HANDS OF STANFORD
WHITE--TELLS OF SHOOTING--“I WILL BE BRAVE,” HER WORDS TO
HUSBAND--COLLAPSES ON STAND--RELATES HOW HER BETRAYAL DELAYED HER
MARRIAGE--THAW’S GREAT LOVE REVEALED--“I HAVE PROBABLY SAVED YOUR
LIFE”--WEPT WHEN SHE DISCLOSED TO HARRY THE VILLAINY OF
WHITE--BLUSHES CRIMSON ON THE STAND--ALMOST FAINTS WHEN ORDERED TO
TELL OF HER DOWNFALL.
“I will be brave--I will be very brave, and I know that when I am done,
you will go free. It will be hard, but I must tell all. Good-bye, Harry,
my love, my own, my sweetheart, husband--”
These were Evelyn Nesbit Thaw’s words before going on the stand.
Crime, horrible, fiendish, revolting, startling in its details, and
consummated with all the clever brutality that a brilliant mind could
encompass--was laid up against the blighted name of Stanford White by
Evelyn Nesbit on the witness stand February 8, 1907.
Beauty in distress--beauty that made a powerful impression on judge,
jury and spectators, intensified a hundredfold the dramatic climax of
the trial. Frail, young, her fair name shattered, her love for husband
surpassing that of Thisbe for Pyramus, she laid down her bleeding heart
upon the altar of the soul, and gave herself a living sacrifice to save
her husband from the electric chair.
In the midst of her story of her shame, the beautiful bride broke down
and cried bitterly. Restoratives were applied, and, fighting with the
life of her loved one as the stake, the piteously fragile and
surpassingly pretty young wife continued with the story of her ruin at
the hands of a modern Nero, for so she painted White.
Mrs. Thaw was on the stand two hours, and her direct examination had not
been concluded when the luncheon adjournment was taken. As she walked
from the witness chair along the passageway back of the jury box she
felt along the wall with the finger tips of her left hand as if about to
faint. From scarlet her face had paled to the whiteness of a sheet.
Except when she broke down when going into the details of her experience
with White the girl spoke in a clear, soft voice. On the witness stand
she appeared for the first time in court unveiled, and her beauty was
remarked on all sides. It is of a girlish type, a mass of dark hair
framing a face of daintily molded features.
“Evelyn Nesbit Thaw,” called the clerk in a tragic voice, as soon as the
trial opened for what was fated to be its greatest day.
The court room was hushed. Three hundred newspaper workers, flashing
bulletins to every American city, to London, Paris, and isles beyond the
seas, hardly breathed, leaned forward excitedly, and the crisis in the
greatest legal battle ever fought was on!
The familiar figure in blue, now for the first time without her veil,
appeared from the judge’s chambers. She stood near the jury box as Clerk
Penny administered the oath.
“I swear,” repeated Mrs. Thaw in an audible voice at the end of the
formal declaration, which was made just a little more impressive than
usual. “I solemnly swear before the ever living God to tell the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth!”
Mrs. Thaw took her place in the witness chair calmly. She looked
steadily ahead at Mr. Delmas and gave her answers to his first questions
in a clear and firm voice, which was soft in quality.
Harry Thaw smiled at his wife as she walked to the witness stand, but
she apparently did not see him at the moment. After she was seated,
however, she smiled faintly at the prisoner and blushed crimson.
In answer to Mr. Delmas’ first question Mrs. Thaw said she was born Dec.
25, 1884. She told of going to the Cafe Martin to dinner the evening of
June 25 with her husband, Thomas McCaleb, and Truxton Beale.
“While you were at the Cafe Martin did you see Stanford White?” asked
Delmas.
“Yes,” answered Evelyn.
“At what time did you see him?”
“I don’t know; it was some time after we arrived.”
“Where did you first see him?”
“Coming in at the Fifth avenue entrance.”
“How long did you see him?”
“I don’t know. He passed through and went on to the balcony.”
“While he was on the balcony could you see him?”
“No.”
“Did you see him leave?”
“Yes. I saw him come in from the balcony and go out of the Fifth avenue
entrance.”
“While you were in the Cafe Martin, did you call for a pencil?”
“Yes.”
“From whom?”
“I think from Mr. McCaleb. He said he did not have one.”
Mrs. Thaw said that McCaleb sat on her left, Beale on her right, and
Thaw was facing her.
“Did you ask again for a pencil?”
“Yes, I got one from some one, I don’t remember whom.”
“Did you write a note?”
“I did.”
“On what?”
“A slip of paper. I think Mr. McCaleb gave it to me.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I passed it to Mr. Thaw.”
“What did Mr. Thaw do?”
“He said to me: ‘Are you all right?’ I said: ‘Yes.’”
“What was your condition as to being disturbed or affected?”
Mr. Jerome’s objection to the question was sustained.
“Was there anything unusual in your manner that was visible to others?”
Again an objection was sustained.
“After this how long did you remain?”
“Only a short time.”
“Mrs. Thaw, have you that slip of paper now?”
“I have not.”
“Have you seen it since?”
“No.”
“Did what you wrote refer to Stanford White?”
Mr. Jerome objected on the ground that the note itself was the best
evidence.
“After you left the restaurant, you went to Madison Square Roof garden?”
asked Mr. Delmas.
“Yes.”
“About what time was it?”
“About the middle of the first act.”
Mrs. Thaw said that she sat in a seat beside Mr. Beale and Mr. McCaleb.
Her husband went to the back of the theater, she said. He was away about
fifteen minutes, when he returned and took a seat beside her.
“How long did he remain at your side?”
“About half an hour.”
“What was his manner then?”
“It seemed to be the same as ever.”
“Did you talk about anything special then?”
“No, just general.”
“Who suggested going away from the garden?”
“I did.”
“The play wasn’t interesting to you?”
“Not a bit,” said the witness.
“How did you start when you went out?”
“I think that Mr. McCaleb and I were in the lead and Mr. Thaw and Mr.
Beale followed.”
“How far had you gone when something happened?”
“Almost to the elevator. I had turned around to speak to Mr. Thaw.”
“How far were you from Mr. White then?”
“About as far as the end of the jury box.”
“You saw Mr. White sitting there?”
“I did.”
“Did you see Mr. Thaw then?”
“Not until a minute or so afterward. He was directly in front of Mr.
White, standing with his arm up in the air.”
“Did you hear shots fired?”
“Yes, immediately after I saw Mr. White I heard the shots.”
“How many shots?”
“Three shots.”
“What did you say?”
“I said to Mr. McCaleb: ‘I think he has shot him.’”
“Did Mr. Thaw come over to where you were?”
“Yes, I asked him what he had done. He leaned over and kissed me and
said: ‘I have probably saved your life.’”
“What happened then?”
“I left.”
“You were taken from there?”
“Yes, I think with Mr. McCaleb and Mr. Beale.”
“You left and did not return?”
“Yes.”
“You said that you are the wife of the defendant?”
“Yes.”
“When were you married?”
“On April 4, 1905.”
“Where?”
“In Pittsburg, at the residence of Dr. McEwen, pastor of the Third
Presbyterian church.”
“Who were present?”
“I think Josiah Thaw, Mr. Thaw’s brother,” the witness went on, after a
moment.
“When had Mr. Thaw proposed for the first time?”
“In June, 1903, in Paris.”
“At the time did you refuse him?”
“I did.”
“Did you state in explaining your refusal of his proposal that it had
something to do with Stanford White?”
“Yes.”
“State what happened.”
“Mr. Thaw told me that he loved me and wanted to marry me. I stared at
him for a moment and then he said, ‘Don’t you care for me?’ and I said
that I did. Then he asked me what was the matter. I said ‘nothing.’ ‘Why
won’t you marry me?’ he said. He put his hands on my shoulder and asked,
‘Is it because of Stanford White?’ and I said ‘yes.’ Then he told me he
would never love any one else or marry any one else. I started to cry.
He said he wanted me to tell him the whole thing. Then I began to tell
him how I first met Stanford White.”
At this frail Evelyn collapsed utterly. Falling back in her chair, her
beautiful features ghastly pale, she murmured:
“I can’t go on! I can’t! I can’t!”
The court windows were opened, an alienist who was present applied
restoratives, and in a few minutes Mrs. Thaw was able to go on to the
story of her ruin.
Evelyn Nesbit’s First Public Appearance
Sweet-voiced Child of 5 Sang Requiem for the Dead in Village
Church, Moving Congregation to Tears.
Florence Evelyn Nesbit was a particularly interesting child, very quiet,
somewhat shy, and did not easily make friends with anyone, but when one
did gain her confidence she was a loyal friend. She was a very beautiful
child and had a remarkably sweet voice for one so tender in years.
Her gift was so marked that she made her first public appearance at the
age of 5. It was at a memorial service in the Methodist church of which
her parents were members. It was held in honor of the members who had
died during the year. The church was decorated for the occasion with an
immense bank of evergreens completely screening the pulpit.
In the midst of a solemn hush in the service came the dulcet voice of a
child singing. It was little Florence Evelyn, hidden behind the
evergreens, and in tones that will never be forgotten by the hearers,
and which were clear and distinct in all parts of the edifice, came the
words of the hymn, “We Are Going Down the Valley One by One.” Before the
song was half finished nearly the entire audience was moved to tears.
Softly, tremulously, yet distinctly, came the impressive burden of the
song. It was a splendid triumph for the child, and it still lingers in
the hearts of the people who were there, its remembrance helped them in
the midst of her trials to sympathize with and pity her.