_Dec._ 9.--Still here; but the wind has gone down almost suddenlywithin the last three hours, and to-morrow morning I hope we reallyshall cross. Dear William getting quite worried; I persuaded him totake me to a lecture that was going on, and while we were there thewind went down, and we have been packing up ever since. Twelve o'clock!and William calling to me. I _must_ just put down about Mr.... GoodHeaven! What is the matter? I feel so ill--quite--
2.--_Statement of Dr. Watson._
My name is James Watson, and I am a physician of about thirty years'standing. In 1854, I was practising at Dover. On the night of the 9thof December in that year, I was sent for hurriedly to see a lady, ofthe name of Anderton, who had been taken suddenly ill immediately afterher return from a lecture at the Town-hall, which she had attended withher husband. The message was brought by the servant from the lodgingswhere they were living. On our way to the house she told me that "thelady was dying, and the poor gentleman quite distracted." On arrivingat the house I found Mr. Anderton supporting his wife in his arms.He seemed greatly agitated, and cried, "For God's sake be quick--Ithink she has got the cholera!" Mrs. Anderton was on the couch in herdressing-room, partially undressed, but with two or three blanketsthrown over her, as she seemed shivering with the cold. There was agood fire in the room, but notwithstanding this and the blankets, herhands and feet were both quite chilly.[2] I asked Mr. Anderton whyshe had not been got to bed, to which he replied, that she had beenvomiting, until within a very few moments, so violently, that they hadbeen unable to move her. Almost immediately on my arrival the vomitingre-commenced, though there appeared to be now hardly anything left inthe stomach to come away. The retching continued with unabated violencefor more than an hour after the stomach had been evidently completelyemptied, and was accompanied with great purging and severe cramps bothin the stomach and the extremities. I at once sent to my house for aportable bath I happened to have hired for my own wife's use, and,on its arrival, placed Mrs. Anderton in it at a temperature of 98 deg.,having previously added 3/4lb. of mustard. While waiting for the bath,I administered thirty drops of laudanum in a wine-glassful of hotbrandy-and-water, but without, in any degree, checking the purging,which continued almost incessantly, and was of a most watery character.It was accompanied also by violent pains and great swelling of the_epigastrium_. A fresh dose of opium was equally unsuccessful, nor wasany amelioration of symptoms produced by the exhibition of prussicacid and creosote. On removing the patient from the warm bath, I hadher carefully placed in bed, shortly after which she began to perspireprofusely, but without any relief to the other symptoms.... I nowbegan to fear that some deleterious substance had been unconsciouslyswallowed, the more especially as the patient had, up to the verymoment of her seizure, been in unusually good health. I thereforemade careful examinations with the view to detecting the presence ofarsenic; and instituted, by the aid of Mr. Anderton, the strictestinquiries as to whether there was in the house any preparationcontaining this or any other irritant poison. Nothing of the kindcould, however, be found, nor were such tests, as I was at the timein a position to apply, able to detect anything of the kind to whichmy suspicions were directed. Deliberate poisoning proved, moreover,on consideration, entirely out of the question, as there could be nodoubt of Mr. Anderton's devoted attachment to his wife, and the peopleof the house were entire strangers to her. Moreover, the length oftime since any food had been taken was almost conclusive against sucha supposition. Mrs. Anderton had dined at six o'clock, and betweenthat hour and midnight, when the attack came on, had eaten nothing buta biscuit and part of a glass of sherry-and-water, the remainder ofwhich was in the glass upon the dressing-room table when I arrived.Since then I have removed portions of all the matters tested, as wellas the remaining wine-and-water, and have had them thoroughly examinedby a scientific chemist, but equally without result. I am compelled,therefore, to believe that the symptoms arose from some natural thoughundiscovered cause. Possibly from a sudden chill in coming from theheated rooms into the night air, though this seems hardly compatiblewith the fact that she never complained of cold during the long drivehome, and that she was seated comfortably in her dressing-room, makingher customary entries in her journal, when the attack came on. Anothervery suspicious circumstance was that, afterwards mentioned by her, ofa strong metallic taste in the mouth, a symptom sometimes occasioned,and in conjunction likewise with the others noticed in her case, bythe exhibition of excessive doses of antimony in the form of emetictartar. This medicine, however, had never been prescribed for her, norwas there any possibility of her having had access to any in mistake.At Mr. Anderton's request, however, I exhibited the remedies used insuch a case, as port wine, infusion of oak-bark, &c., but with aslittle effect as the other medicines. Indeed, the remedies of whateverkind were precluded from exercising their full action by the extremeirritability of the stomach, by which they were ejected almost as soonas swallowed. This being the case, I abandoned any further attempt atthe exhibition of the heavy doses I had hitherto employed, or indeedof drugs of any kind, and confined myself, until the irritation of the_epigastrium_ should have been in some measure allayed, to a treatmentI have occasionally found successful in somewhat similar cases; theadministration, that is to say, of simple soda-water in repeated dosesof a teaspoonful at a time. I have often found this to remain with goodeffect upon the stomach when everything else was at once rejected, norwas I disappointed in the present case. About an hour after commencingthis treatment, the first violence of the symptoms began to subside,and by the next afternoon the case had resolved itself into an ordinaryone of severe _gastroenteritis_ which I then proceeded to treat in theregular manner. After quite as short a period as I could possibly haveexpected, this also was subdued, leaving the patient, however, in astate of great prostration, and subject to night-perspirations of amost lowering character. I now began to throw in tonics, and to resort,though very cautiously, to more invigorating diet. Under this treatmentshe continued steadily to improve, though the perspirations stillcontinued, and her constitution cannot be said to have at all recoveredthe severe shock it had sustained by the month of April, 1855, whenthey left Dover, by my recommendation, for change of air. Since thattime I have not seen her. I am quite unable to account for the seizurefrom any cause but that of a chill; an hypothesis which, I must admit,rests its authority almost solely on the fact that no other can befound.
3.--_Extracts from Mrs. Anderton's Journal_--_Continued._
_Jan._ 20, 1855.--At last I get back once more to my old brownfriend.[3] Dear old thing, how pleasant its old face seems! Very littleto-day though; only a word or two, just to say it is done. Oh, how ittries one!
_Jan._ 25.--My own dear husband's birthday; and, thank Heaven! I amonce more able to sit with him. Oh! how kind he has been through allthese weary weeks, when I have been so fretful and impatient. Whyshould suffering make one cross? God knows, I _have_ suffered. I neverthought to live through that terrible night. It makes me shudder tothink of it. And, then, that horrid, deathlike, leaden taste--that wasworst of all. Well, thank God! I am better now, but so weak. I am quitetired with writing even these few lines....
_Feb._ 12.--How weak I still am! Walked out to-day with dear Williamfor the first time upon the pier, but had scarcely got to the end ofit, when I felt so tired I was obliged to sit down while poor Williamwent to fetch a chair to take me home.
_Feb._ 13. I have been quite startled to-day. I was talking to Dr.Watson about my being so tired yesterday, and about how very weak Istill was, and how ill I had been--and, at last, he let slip that, atthe time, he thought I had been poisoned. It gave me quite a turn, andthen he tried to make us talk of something else, but I could not get itout of my head, and kept coming back and back to it, and wondering whocould have had any possible interest in poisoning poor me. And so wewent on talking; and, at last, Dr. Watson said something which let outthat at first he had suspected--William! my own William! my precious,precious husband! Oh! I thought I should have choked on the spot. Idon
't know what I said, but I do know I could not have said too much,and poor William tried to laugh it off, and said: "Who else would havegained anything by it? Would he not have had that miserable 25,000_l_.?and besides him, there was no one but the Charities in India, and theycould not have done it, because they would not exist till we weregone;" but I could see how he winced at the idea, and I felt as thoughmy blood were really boiling in my veins. And then that man--oh! howthankful I shall be when we can get away from him--tried to persuademe that he had not really thought it. I should think not, indeed! andthat he soon saw it was impossible, and all that; and at last, I fairlyburst out crying with passion, and ran out of the room. And--and--Icould cry now to think of my poor dear Willie being--and I shall,too, if I go on thinking about it any longer, so I will write no moreto-night.
_Feb._ 15.--No journal yesterday, I really could not trust myself towrite. And poor Willie, though he tried to laugh at it, I could see howbitterly he felt the imputation. Good Heaven! think if that wretchedman had really charged him with it. It would have killed him. I know itwould, and he would rather have died a thousand times. Well, I must notthink of it any more. Only, once more, thank Heaven! we shall soon begoing away.
_April_ 7.--Back once more at home, thank Heaven! But how slow, howvery slow this convalescence, as they call it, is. Oh! shall I ever bewell again, as I was last year before that horrid day at Dover!
_May_ 3.--So we are to leave England for a time, and try the Germanbaths. I am almost thankful for it. I have grown very fond, too, ofthis dear little luxurious house, though I could hardly say why. It islike my wonderful fancy for Rosalie. Ah, poor Rosalie! I wonder whereshe is now, and when they will return. I cannot help thinking she mightdo me some good. But, as I was saying; fond as I am of this dear littlehouse, I shall be really glad to leave it for a time, and see whatchange of air will do for me. If I could only get rid of those terriblenight perspirations. It is they that pull me down so, and make me soweak and miserable. Oh! what would I not give to be well once more, ifit were only to get rid of the memory of that time.
_July_ 7.--Safe at Baden Baden; and too early as yet for the majorityof the English pleasure-seekers. What a delicious place it is; Ideclare I quite feel myself better already....
_Sept._ 11.--Really almost well again. Quite a comfortable talk to-daywith dear Willie about that foolish Dr. Watson; the first time thesubject has been mentioned between us, since that day when I got intosuch a passion about it. Poor man, he was hardly worth going into arage about. We heard to-day of his having made some terrible blunder inthe new place he has gone to, and lost all his practice by killing somepoor old woman through it. It was this made us talk of his poisoningnotion, and oh! how glad I was to see that dear Willie had quite gotover his nervousness about it. We had quite a long talk; and, at last,he promised me faithfully never to say a word more about it to any one.
_Oct._ 10.--Home again at last, and in our own dear little house. Andreally I feel once more as well and strong as this time last year. DearWilliam, too, how happy he is; the shadow seems quite to have passedaway. God grant it may not return.
_Oct._ 30.--An eventful day. All the morning at the Crystal Palace, andjust as we returned who should walk in but the Baron R**! It was just ayear since he left us, but he had not altered in the very least. I donot think that short, square figure, with the impenetrable rosy face,and the large white hands, and those wonderful great green eyes thatyou can so rarely catch, and when you have caught, so invariably wishyou had let alone, can ever change. I am afraid I was not very cordialto him. I ought to be, for he has done great things for me; and yetsomehow when I saw him, I felt quite a cold shudder run all throughme. Dear William saw it, and asked if I was ill, and when I laughedand said, "No, it was only some one walking over my grave," I couldnot help fancying that for a moment the Baron's lips seemed to turnquite white, and I just caught one glance from those awful eyes thatseemed as if it would read me through and through. And yet after allit may have been only fancy, for the next moment he was talking in hisrich, quiet voice as though nothing could ever disturb him. So Rosalieis gone. That is clear at all events, though what has exactly becomeof her I cannot quite so well understand. From all I can make out, sheseems, poor girl, to have married very foolishly, and it was that thatwas the matter between them when they went away last year. The Baronseemed indeed to hint at something even worse, but he would not speakout plainly, and I would defy any one to make that man say one wordmore than he may choose. Poor Rosalie, I hope she has not come to anyharm.
_Nov._ 1.--Another visit from the Baron, to say good-bye before hisreturn to--his wife! How strange that we should never have heard of herbefore, and even now I cannot make out whether he has married since heleft us or whether he was always so. Certainly that man is a mystery,and just now it pleases him to talk especially in enigmas. He does notseem disposed, however, to put up with vague information on our part. Ithought he would never have done questioning poor William and me aboutmy illness, and at last he drew it out of me--not out of William, dearfellow--what that foolish Dr. Watson had said. After all I am not sorryI told him, for it was quite a relief to hear him speak so strongly ofthe absurdity of such an idea, and I am sure it was a comfort to poorWilliam. He--the Baron--spoke very strongly too about the danger ofsetting such ideas about, and particularly cautioned dear Willie not tomention it to any one. I knew he would not have done so any way, butthis will make him more comfortable.
_April_ 3.--Such a delightful day and so tired. I never saw Richmondlook so lovely, and how dear Willie and I did enjoy ourselves in thatlovely park. But oh! I am so sleepy. Not a word more.
_April_ 5.--Another lovely day--strolling about Lord Holland's Parkall the morning, and this evening some music in our own dear littledrawing-room. How happy--how very happy--good Heaven, what is this?That old horrible leaden taste: and oh, so deadly sick....
_April_ 6.--Thank Heaven the attack seems to have passed away. Oh,how it frightened me. Thank Heaven, too, I was able to keep the worstfrom dear William, and he did not know how like it was to that otherdreadful time.
_April_ 20.--Again that horrible sickness, and worse--oh, farworse--still, that awful deadly leaden taste. Worse this time, too,than the last. In bed all day yesterday. Poor Willie terribly anxious.Pray Heaven it may not come again.
_May_ 6.--Another attack. God help me! if this should go on, I do notknow what will become of me. Already I am beginning to feel weaker andweaker. Poor Willie!--these last three days have been terrible ones forhim. However, the doctor says it will all pass off. Pray Heaven it may!
_May_ 25.--More sickness, more derangement, more of that horribleleaden taste. The doctor himself is beginning to look uncomfortable,and I can see that poor Willie's mind is reverting to that terriblesuggestion a year ago. Thank Heaven I have as yet managed to concealfrom him and from Dr. Dodsworth that horrid deadly taste which madesuch an impression on Dr. Watson. Oh, when will this end!
_June_ 10.--A horrible suspicion is taking possession of me. What canthis mean? I look back through my journal, and it is every fortnightthat this fearful attack returns. The 5th and 18th of April--3rd and21st of May--and now again the 7th of this month. And that terribleleaden taste which is now almost constantly in my mouth; and with everyattack my strength failing--failing--O God, what can it be?
_June_ 26.--Another fortnight--another attack. There _must_ be foulplay somewhere. And yet who could--who would do such a thing? ThankHeaven I have still concealed from my poor William that worst symptomof all, the horrible leaden taste which is now never out of my mouth.My precious Willie, how kind, how good he is to me....
_July_ 12.--I cannot hold out much longer now. Each time the attackreturns I lose something of the little, the very little strength thatis left. God help me, I feel now that I must go.... The Baron cameto-day, and for a moment my poor boy's face lighted up with hope again.They had a long discussion before the doctor would consent to consultwith him, but after that, they seemed to chan
ge the medicines. Butsomething must have gone wrong, for I have never seen Dr. Dodsworthlook so grave.
_Aug._ 1.--I think the end is drawing very near now. This last attackhas weakened me more than ever, and I write this in my bed. I shallnever rise from it again. My poor, poor Willie.... Three days I havebeen in bed now, but I have taken nothing from any hand but his.
_Aug._ 17.--This is, I think, almost the last entry I shall make.Another fortnight and I shall be too weak to hold the pen--if, indeed,I am still here.
_Sept._ 5.--Another attack. Strange how this weary body bears upagainst all this pain. Would that it were over; and yet my poor, poorboy.... He too, is almost worn out; night and day he never leaves me...I take the things from his hand, but I cannot taste them now--nothingbut lead....
_Sept._ 27.[3]--Farewell my husband--my darling--my own preciousWillie. Think of me--come soon to me. God bless you--God comfortyou--my darling--my own.
_In the hand of Mr. Anderton._
This day my darling died. Oct. 12th, 1856. W. A.
[Footnote 1: Compare Section II., 2 and 5.]
[Footnote 2: This portion of Dr. Watson's statement, relating entirelyto the symptoms of Mrs. Anderton's case, though some details areexcluded, necessarily contains much that must be interesting onlyto the medical profession and disagreeable to the general reader.The following paragraph may therefore be passed over, merely notingthat the symptoms were such as would be compatible with antimonialpoisoning.]
[Footnote 3: Apparently the journal, which is bound in brown Russianleather.]
SECTION IV.
The Notting Hill Mystery Page 5
