THE GREAT

HARRY THAW CASE

OR

A Woman’s Sacrifice

BY
BENJ. H. ATWELL


A graphic and truthful narrative of the most sensational
case in modern jurisprudence. A thrilling account of
a young girl’s struggles in her battle for fame and
fortune, and the unconquered love of the man
who has baffled the world’s greatest alienists;
with portraits of many leading characters,
famous society leaders and noted
actresses who have made this case
the talk of America and Europe


ILLUSTRATED


CHICAGO
LAIRD & LEE, Publishers

CONTENTS

PREFACE.

Mothers, tempted by the pressing, material needs of the day to permit tender daughters to aid in the family support by entering occupations, which, while not vicious, are beset by pitfalls, may think twice before reaching a decision after contemplating the sufferings and humiliations suffered by Evelyn Nesbit.

Young women in the exuberance of youth, hungering for the empty bubble known as a career, may recall the pathetic picture presented by the same girl when on the witness stand as Mrs. Thaw, and recoil from thought of a butterfly life after viewing that crushed, unhappy figure.

Even more exalted personages may find profit in taking inventory of the Thaw case. Prosecuting attorneys are found in every county in this broad land. Let them observe the attitude of District Attorney Jerome in this case and search out their minds to determine if they are ever guilty of persecution in the name of prosecution, or inflict unnecessary torture on the innocent, to vindicate an immaterial theory, of interest only to the occupants of the grandstand.

Modern times reveal no parallel to the Thaw case in its various phases. Shakespeare’s wonderful creations of fancy contain no more thrilling features nor more humanizing passages in their philosophic application than have been disclosed by this life tragedy of love, hate, villainy, perfidy and outraged innocence.

All the emotions known to the human heart enter into it, ranging from boundless, mercenary cupidity and indescribable cruelty to self sacrificing love that has found no test too severe.

Preachments covering the scope of every sermon life’s experiences produce abound in its every development in such blunt, powerful form that he who runs may read and he who reads may bring them home to himself.

Precedents in medical jurisprudence have been established, medical and legal reputations made and lost.

To the student of human nature, then, this volume will carry a message. Also, to the moralist and the teacher, the physician and the lawyer. Nor will this list exhaust the field of those who may find something of interest and benefit within its pages, for the field is as broad as mankind.

If it is received in the spirit in which it is given to the public, free from any disposition to pander to mere morbid curiosity or to exploit that which is reprehensible in moral makeup, it shall have accomplished the purpose of

The Author.

CHAPTER I.

Evelyn Nesbit Thaw, the “Woman in the Case.”

The family moved to Pittsburg, and Evelyn was still a schoolgirl when the death of her father, Winfield Scott Nesbit, a struggling lawyer, left her mother and herself almost destitute. Incumbrances on the little property left by her father shut off almost every source of income. The schoolgirl had to face a more serious problem than usually falls to the lot of a girl in short skirts.

When Evelyn was only thirteen years old, a Mrs. Darragh, a portrait painter and miniature artist of Philadelphia, discovered her rare beauty and painted her head. Later Phillips, a photographer of Philadelphia, asked the Pittsburg child to sit for several photographic studies. The pictures were printed in an art magazine and attracted attention. Before her father had been dead long Evelyn Nesbit found that she was being sought by such artists as Carroll Beckwith, F. S. Church, Carl Blenner, and J. Wells Champney.

Demand for the privilege of photographing her beautiful face or portraying it on canvas became so great that the money earned by the little girl by posing became the mainstay of the family. With her mother she moved to New York, took rooms in a low-priced boarding house, and began frequenting studios of famous artists. Her work was in constant demand.

It was while she was posing that she met the man whose acts toward her resulted in his killing by Harry Kendall Thaw. It was when her mother, modest, yet proud of her wonderfully beautiful little daughter just budding into girlhood, took her to a photographer’s that Evelyn Nesbit flashed into public view as a famous beauty. The pictures were so remarkable, so perfect in feature, so graceful in every outline that the artist exhibited them in his studio.

Little wonder it was that every one who passed the show case stopped spell-bound by the youthful beauty of the subject; little wonder that Charles Dana Gibson, then in the zenith of his success, with his studies of the American girl, looked upon Evelyn’s photographs in rapture and wished immediately to meet the original and arrange to have her pose for him.

One day as the little model was about to leave the studio she was met by a man about to enter the door.

“By jove! Gibson, who is this little vision of the empyrean blue? Tell me. I must know the little sprite, whether she is of this earth or just a fairy from out of wonderland,” the man added, lightly, as he held the girl a shy and pretty captive at the door.

The usual unconventional studio introduction followed. The man who gasped in admiration of the exquisite flower-like beauty of the young girl was Stanford White, the renowned architect; the girl was Florence Evelyn Nesbit, artist’s model.

The man of the world saw in the innocent young thing an easy victim to his wiles, and opportunities were made for him to meet the girl, whom he planned to make his puppet, his plaything, his slave.

His efforts were not long in being crowned by success. The pretty trinkets which the girl loved so well were hers with the first expression of her desire; she was flattered when she realized from whom she was receiving adulation, the subtle, crafty methods of the connoisseur of beauty, of art, the epicure in all his fleshly wants, the polished manner, the refined taste that were his by birth, all added a charm new and irresistible to the ingenuous, luxury-loving little model with the eyes of a Madonna and the smile of a siren.

Soon the beautiful, innocent Evelyn Nesbit was ensconced in a high class apartment house and Stanford White, who paid the bills, became a constant visitor to the magnificently appointed suite.

There she lived in ease and the artist-architect brought his men friends to see this girl, and boasted that she was his “by right of discovery.” She was taken to the restaurants frequented by the men and women about town. Evelyn Nesbit became the toast of the companions of White.

Finally a stage career was mapped out for her. White managed it, and Evelyn Nesbit’s fame spread as she flaunted her lithe form and graceful beauty in “Florodora” and “The Wild Rose.”

It was at this time that Harry Thaw made her acquaintance. The late hours and the endless, restless round of pleasure had told upon the fragile girl and she fell ill.

A European trip was planned for her and Stanford White was one of the party. In a few weeks they returned to New York, but Evelyn Nesbit could never dance again. Instead she was sent to a boarding school where White hoped that she would regain her health sufficiently to reappear upon the stage and, incidentally, learn better how to spell and write.

At this time Evelyn Nesbit was a mere slip of a girl, just sixteen, with a wealth of brown hair and great brown eyes. It was in Mrs. Henry C. De Mille’s school that White chose to have his “ward” educated, at “Pimlico,” N. J. Stanford White’s checks were forwarded with great regularity and the girl, known in the school to be the “ward” of the great and prosperous architect, became a favorite among the girls—girls of the most exclusive of families.

It began soon to be whispered that Evelyn Nesbit was a soubrette and exceptions were taken to the visits of Stanford White and of Harry Thaw and other men of their types.

One day Stanford White went to the school in a big touring car and invited some of the pupils for a ride. During that ride his conversation was of such a nature that three of the girls insisted upon being permitted to alight and they returned to the school on foot.

This caused such an uproar in the school that Evelyn was asked to leave, but she was prevented from going by a sudden illness. During this illness, Harry Thaw, who had made her acquaintance in New York while she was on the stage, was in constant attendance upon her and when the girl was finally forced to leave, Thaw was there to defray all her expenses.

Stanford White meanwhile had deserted the beautiful girl and refused to pay her tuition, which amounted to $3,000. He declared he was Evelyn’s “guardian” by courtesy only. His failure to keep his word to defray the girl’s expenses was a severe blow to Mrs. De Mille, whose school had become so depleted through the notoriety that he had brought upon it that it was forced to disband.

Meanwhile Thaw became desperately in love with the girl and took her back to her mother and told her of his love and begged her to take Evelyn to Europe as his guest. It was in Pittsburg sometime later that he married the girl who had been spurned and repudiated and left friendless by the man who claimed her “by right of discovery.”

Evelyn’s stage career was brief but brilliant. While an actress in musical comedies she was pronounced by all “The most beautiful woman behind the footlights,” but her natural beauty was destined to become fatal—fatal to Stanford White—fatal to her own good name—fatal to her husband’s hope of happiness.

CHAPTER II.

Harry Thaw’s Sensational Courtship and Marriage.

Harry Thaw’s eyes first fell upon Evelyn Nesbit when she was only seventeen years old. She had carried her beauty from Pittsburg to the studios of New York. Then the stage called her, and her brunette pulchritude charmed the scion of one of Pittsburg’s wealthiest families. Somebody presented her to Thaw at a gay party of young and beautiful stage girls who were having a costly supper after the play at an exclusive restaurant. All this time Evelyn was supposed to be under the eye of her mother, who, a few years previously, had doffed her widow’s weeds and married Charles J. Holman, a Pittsburg broker. Mrs. Holman told her friends she keenly realized the perils that beset the feet of beautiful young girls, but her chaperonage did not save her own daughter.

Thaw loved the daughter, he said, as soon as he saw her. His appreciation of feminine loveliness had always been one of his strongest qualities. Only three years before he met Miss Nesbit he had given a $50,000 dinner in Paris to twenty-five of the most beautiful women that he could get together. Cleo de Merode, at whose feet the King of the Belgians had laid royal tribute, Anna Robinson of this country and other famous beauties were at that banquet. Sousa’s band received a check for $1,500 for furnishing the music. This dinner and many of Thaw’s other enjoyments were made possible by the fact that when his father died he left a fortune of $40,000,000. This father was William Thaw and he had been prominent in Pennsylvania railroad and steel affairs. His widow and the seven children inherited the fortune.

Harry Thaw’s penchant for economy was pretty

well exemplified by the will under which his annual income was to be $2,500, because, as his father said, he would spend as much as he got anyway. His mother, though, let him have annually sums that were never under $40,000.

With his money he set out to dazzle the little Miss Nesbit, who back home had often trudged by the magnificent Thaw mansion and possibly had wondered in her simple impecunious way as to the manner of life that can be lived by a family that has $40,000,000 to dispose of.

It didn’t take Harry Thaw long to show her how some of that money might be spent. To her apartments in the Audubon in New York, an apartment building beloved of the chorus girl, he caused to be sent an exquisite grand piano. Miss Nesbit’s mother caused it to be carted away. So also with many of the jewels which Thaw sent up.

While Thaw’s wooing was in progress the name of his family loomed large in the public prints because of the marriage of Harry Thaw’s sister Alice to the Earl of Yarmouth. On the very day of the wedding, the earl halted the ceremony by announcing that unless satisfactory financial arrangements were made at once there would be no marriage. The money was paid, although Harry Thaw told reporters that if he had been there we would have kicked the Earl down stairs. A little later, however, his sister Alice, Countess of Yarmouth, repaid the harsh blow at the husband by publicly snubbing Evelyn Nesbit at an English race track.

About the time of this marriage Evelyn Nesbit went to Europe. Harry Thaw followed her. They went automobiling, and the charming brunette fell madly in love with the young heir to nearly $40,000,000; he had been in love with her since the evening they first met.

Then, all because they were arrested for exceeding the automobile speed laws in Switzerland, the curtain was raised upon their romance, that all the world might see. In the police court to which they were taken the impression that they were husband and wife gained ground. News of the supposed marriage was telegraphed to London and thence to America. Thaw’s relatives and rich society friends were shocked. They had registered and stopped at the Carlton hotel in London as husband and wife, and the report of their marriage was generally believed.

When they returned to New York they had a stormy experience. On their arrival they discovered that Mrs. William Thaw, mother of Harry, had announced that under no conditions would she accept Evelyn Nesbit for a daughter-in-law, and that if her son had really married the beautiful young model she would promptly disown him.

Harry didn’t want to lose his fortune, and it is probable that the girl didn’t desire to see him impoverished, either. So they faced the dilemma. Fear of the wrath of the mother forced them to deny that the union had been consummated, yet at the same time they were together in New York at the Cumberland hotel, and the proprietor demanded that either Thaw write “wife” after his name on the register or quit the hotel.

Thaw refused to do this, and the couple went to another hotel with the same result. After they had been ejected from four hostelries they separated. All this time there had been no public announcement by either of them that they had been married, as supposed.

Miss Nesbit, as she still insisted on being called, went to a boarding house and the young millionaire made efforts to placate his mother. He was successful, but not until an open rumor had it that Miss Nesbit had refused an offer of $250,000 in cash to give up Harry and quit the United States.

When the mother did agree to the union she acted handsomely, and the exquisite beauty was quietly married at the home of Rev. William L. McEwan, pastor of the Third Presbyterian church, Pittsburg, Mrs. Thaw and the members of both families being present. This was on April 4, 1905.

The Thaws left Lyndhurst, the magnificent Thaw country mansion near Pittsburg, and went to New York. They varied their life in the metropolis by trips to Pittsburg, but did not go to Newport, where Benjamin Thaw, Harry’s brother, lived. In Pittsburg, Mrs. William Thaw gave several receptions to the actress-model wife of her son. Pittsburg society started to squabble over these affairs, but finally attended the receptions and accepted Evelyn as a member of their exclusive set.

The charms of the young Mrs. Thaw had disarmed much of the criticism. Mrs. Holman grew to like her son-in-law, although not long before she had threatened to apply a rawhide horsewhip to him, while Harry and her daughter were living together in New York, apparently unmarried.

The Thaws themselves, when they saw how hard young Mrs. Thaw was trying to restrict the money-spending habits of her husband, forgave her completely. They even regretted, some of them said, that they had offered to buy her off. When that offer was made—it was during the stormy days in New York,—Miss Nesbit had declared “My heart is not for sale!”

The story of the wedding—a remarkably simple affair—is interesting in that it showed Evelyn Nesbit’s love for simplicity in her private life. Although fame and fortune were linked in a remarkable union, the wedding ceremony took place almost in secret.

The day before the wedding Mr. Thaw went to the Hotel Schenley, and in the grillroom met some of his old associates. He remarked that in less than a week he would be a benedict. Steins were raised high and his companions declared that it should be made his bachelor dinner. Their host swore them to secrecy, and then the story of the coming nuptials was divulged to the chosen few.

Miss Nesbit arrived in Pittsburg with her chaperon, Miss Pierce, and went to the home of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. C. J. Holman, in Oakland. In the afternoon Harry Thaw went to the residence of Dr. McEwan in South Negley avenue and arranged for the wedding.

It was a few minutes after 5 o’clock when three carriages drove to Dr. McEwan’s residence. From them alighted Mr. Thaw, his mother, Mrs. William Thaw, his brother, Josiah Copley Thaw, and Fredrick C. Perkins. Miss Nesbit came on the arm of her stepfather, C. J. Holman, and was followed by her mother, Mrs. Holman.

Miss Nesbit wore a traveling costume of dark material, which was almost hidden in a light three-quarter opera cloak trimmed with rare lace and ornamented with Persian floral designs. She wore a hat that indicated a slight lingering toward the winter season, and across the silk entwined brim was a gorgeous leather of three shades of brown.

Miss Nesbit did not remove her cloak or hat and the bridegroom laid his headgear and top coat over the banisters before he walked into the drawing-room. When the ceremony was concluded the party left the parsonage. Dinner was served at Lyndhurst, and the bride and bridegroom hastened to the railway station to leave for their journey East.

CHAPTER III.

Story of the Killing That Startled the World.

There was a big crowd on the roof of the garden; a crowd which pretty well filled the floor. Many people noticed a slightly built young man walking backward and forward in front of the stage, among the tables set here and there in an open space in front of the seats.

He was plainly nervous and very pale. He kept watching the entrance from the Twenty-sixth street side. A few people knew it was Harry K. Thaw and remarked on his peculiar behavior. They thought it queer also that he wore a long, thin coat.

At about 11:05 p. m. several persons noticed Stanford White enter the roof garden and take a seat near the left hand side of the stage, pretty well up to the front, dropping into a chair at a table four rows from the stage.

Young Thaw, who had been watching apparently for White to come in, jumped at the sight of him and made for the table.

Few persons saw what happened immediately afterward. In the first place, the show was nearing its close, the dancers pirouetting and skipping about the stage and the orchestra jingling and clanging in gay dance music.

All about the open enclosure in front of the stage, where the tables were set, were palms and potted plants, which largely cut off the view of the table where Mr. White was sitting.

Some persons were sure that a young woman was at the table when White lounged in and took a seat. They went so far as to describe her, saying she was young, slim, dark-haired and dressed all in white, with a big white hat, from which a filmy veil fell over her shoulders.

Others who insisted that they observed White when he took a seat there, said no woman was present. They were positive on that point.

On reaching White’s table Thaw backed off a step or two, produced a revolver, aimed it at White and pulled the trigger. The first bullet entered the right eye, penetrating the brain. Thaw shot twice more, rapidly. The other bullets both struck White’s body, one in the right side of the upper lip and the other in the right arm.

White hardly moved from his position at the table. His body sagged a little to the left, his arm flattened out on the table top and his head sank heavily on the arm.

Above the swing and thrumming of the orchestra and the gay chorus of the dancers the three shots sounded clearly, startling everybody, causing the men to jump to their feet and rush toward the left side of the stage.

Two women nearby, seeing what had happened and the blood flowing from the man’s wounds, screamed. Two of the girls on the stage fled screaming into the wings.

“Get back into your line,” roared the stage manager so that all heard him.

One of the girls started back, but she again fled to the wings, while two of the remaining four, seeing the cause of the trouble, fell over in a faint.

The music and the dancing kept going a while feebly; then it died away. The musicians jumped from