Delaware state journal. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1870-1883, 1880-08-19
A TRAGIC ROMANCE.

The Latest story Of the sad Death of
Annie WetmOre-A Club View of
the Conduct of the Base English
NIarquis-Forbidden TO Appear at
Court.
Correspondence of New York Sun.
PARIS, July 29 Thirty three years ago,
under the reign of Louis Philippe, the
French Chamber of Peers counted emoug
its members Duke-de Choiseul Praslin
who had asssHsnated his wife. This
week has shown that the English House
of Lords possesses a Marquis who has
murdered his. betrothed There IL this
difference: The act of the French Duke
fell under the stroke of lhe law; the net
of the English Marquis Is one of those
which escape the chastiscmeDt of justice,
and can be reached only by the verdict Of
public opinion.
The nobleman who brought about the
frightful drama of which all ara talking is
Lord Henry Paget, Marquis of Anglesey,
az well and widely known III Paris az in
London, since he spends nearly AZ much
of his time in the one capital as the other.
His victim was Mrs. Wetmore, one of the
most attractive young women of the
American colony III Paris, universally es,
teemed for her grace and wit. On Wednes-
day the Anglo-American community WAS
stupetied by the news that Mrs. Wetmore
had killed herself in her apartment in the
Rue Chateaubriand amid circumstances
making the act exceptionally dolorous and
pitisble. According to the physicians, she
had swallowed a mixture Of morphine and
laudanum, and death came only after
several hours of terrible agony. The corpse,
which l saw, testified to the frightful
nature of her sutferings. 1t was rigid,
distorted and black. The face, only yes
terdsy so fine, so charming, was unrecog-
nizable. The hands, 30 rosy, 30 elegant
yesterday, were deformed, crisped, terri
flying.
kh, 1t would have been only justice il
the Marquis of Anglesey had been coni-
PEELED TO see that right hand of the
woman whom he had once called his
darling that right hand on which he had
slipped, only few weeks before,
10 Annie Wetmore from the Marquis OF
hnglesey." But the Marquis is in London,
and while his victim was writhing in
spssms of agony he was dancing at an
aristocratic ball. The last plumber of the
London Truth chronicles tho sensation
made by him at this brilliant social
gathering Think moment OF the two
scenes she on her bed in the Pickering
light of the night lamp, tortured by the
poison which his conduct had borne to
her lips he in the glare of the chandeliers,
in an atmosphere vibrating with music,
playing the butterfly in his white cravat
and with flowers at his buttonhole. What
a striking contrast for painter or dram
atlst
Mrs. Wetmore belonged, as all know, to
good American family. She was mar
ried woman, surrounded with esteem and
comfort, when i'll an evil hour she encoun-
tered on her path the brilliant and fas.
cinating Lord Henry Paget The romance
is not new the young woman amid her
50urgeOts surrounding and friends, dream
ing i'll the humdrum peace of her home of
wider horizons and a more splendid Set
ting for her beauty; the English peer, six
times millionaire, called to hold high
rank in the greatest court OF Europe, sur
rounded with all that prestige which nj
illustrious birth, an enormous fortune and
princely education give a man in the
eyes of romantic women. The den0ue-
ment was to have been foreseen. The two
fell in love, psssionstely; one starry night
the unfaithfnl wife, fascinated, van
qushed, allowed ber lover to carry her
from her home.
However, the guilty woman exacted
formal pledge from this lover that when
she should be divorced from her husband,
he would make her his wife. 70 this
Lord Henry solemply bound himself. At
different times, in letters which are at this
moment in the hands of an English law
yer, Mr.. Gardner, dwelling in the Champs
Elysees, the noble lord nenewed these
promises of marriage. Relying on the
honor of \ man whose rank entities him
to be addressed by the Queen as her trusty
and well beloved cousin, Mrs. Wetmore
believed herself safe. Her conduct cost
her rupture with her whole family, and
the loss of the allowance which her mother
had given her as marriage portion. Less
generous than M. Henri Say, who, when
lie carried off, two years ago. the Countess
u, made this lady surrender to her
husband the whole of her personal for
tune, and settled upon her in its place an
income of 100 600 francs a year, the Eug-
lish nobleman di' dained to occupy himself
with the vulgar question of money. Was
not his love sufficient security, and
besides, was he not at an early day to make
her the most beloved and richest of the
Marchionesses of Engandp
The divorce was applied for and granted
Mrs. Weimore was free, and nothing pre-
vented the noble lord from fulfilling his
promises. jus. at this time the old
Marquis of Anglesey died; Lord Henry
entered upon his heritage. This death
ha NJadI;n1
while, the couple installed themselves in
Paris, in the same house, but in separate
apartments, and Lord Paget presented
Mrs. Wetmore as the future MarchiOness
of Auglesey to his friends. Two hundred
and thirty eight letters of the noble lord,
now in the hands of Mr.. Gardner, the
lawyer, testify to the charm exerted over
him by this lidtson. hidden in the tumul-
tous uproar of Paris-a RatsOn, moreover,
secret and full of reserve and tact, the
realization, one might have said, of that
reserved passion, painted in the cores
pondenoe of Nine. de Sebrln with the
Uhevelier de Boufiers Not clond was
to be seen in the azure sky; all was linn
. pid tnd calm-the calm that prtcedes the
tempest.
Some weeks ago the Marquis announced
to Mrs. Wetmore that he was called to
England tt make certain necessary arrange
ments for the realization of their projects.
AT the same time, to confirm his promise
in conclusive fashion, he gave her the
engagement ring spoken of above. The
poor woman, without thought of dis
trust, suffered him to set out She was
never to SEE him again.
| Some time passed. One day she
received letter, only a few lines announc-
ing that all was over; that the dream was
ended. BY way of consololion she was to
have an income of l 900 francs year. 1t
was barely the third part of the noble
lords daily revenue.
What an awakening! One cannot
believe all at once In the reality of blows
like this; one cannot master the thought
that so much love, SO many VOWS, so
many plans for the future, were nothing
but empty words. The poor woman
wrote, pleaded letters and appeals re.
manned unanswered Plunged in despair,
she still hoped. Another day came.
Some one broke 10 her the news that the
Marquis regardless Of his pledged faitti.
tramplipg upon his solemn engagements,
wss about to marry Mrs. Wodehouse, one
of the queens of London society, whom
he had met oply fortnight before for the
first time IL his life.
| shall not try to paint the tears, the