The Christmas Eve Burglary by Arnold Bennett. Lady Dane said, Gee, if
that portrait stays so much longer, you'll just have to take me off to
pie Hill one of these fine mornings. Pie Hill is the seat of the
great local hospital, but it is also the seat of the great local lunatic
asylum. And when the inhabitants of the Five Towns say merely Pye Hill,
they mean the asylum. I do declare. I can't fancy my food nowadays,
said Lady Dane, And it's all that portrait. She stared plaintively up
at the immense oil painting which faced her as she sat at the breakfast table
in her spacious and opulent dining room. Sir Gehosifact made no remark despite Lady
Dane's animadversions upon it, despite the undoubted facts that it was generally liked in
the Five Towns. The portrait had cost a thousand pounds, some said guineas,
and though not yet two years old, it was probably worse at least
fifteen hundred in the picture market, for it was a cressage. And not
only was it a cressage, it was one of the finest cressages in existence.
It marked the summit of Sir Jehosaphat's career. Sir Jehosiphat's career was perhaps
the most successful and brilliant in the entire social history of the Five Towns.
This famous man was the principal partner in Dane Brothers. His brother was dead,
but two of Sir G's sons were in the firm. Dane Brothers were
the largest manufacturers of cheapers and were in the district, catering chiefly for the
American and colonial buyer. They had an extremely bad reputation for cutting prices.
They were hated by every other firm in the Five Towns, and to hear
rival manufacturer's talk, one would gather the impression that Sir G had acquired a
tremendous fortune by systematically selling goods under cost. They were also hated by between
eighteen and nineteen hundred employees. But such hatred, however virulent, had not
marred the progress of Sir G's career. He had meant to make a name,
and he had made it. The Five Towns might laugh at his vulgar
snobbishness. The Five Towns might sneer at his calculated philanthropy. But he was
nevertheless the best known man in the Five towns. And it was precisely his
snobbishness and his philanthropy which had carried him to the top. Moreover, he
had been the first public man in the Five towns to gain a knighthood.
The Five Towns could not deny that it was very proud, indeed, of
this knighthood. The means by which he had won this distinction were neither here
nor there. He had won it, And was he not the father of
his native borough, had he not been three times mayor of his native borough.
Was not the whole northern half of the county dotted and spangled by his
benefactions, his institutions, his endowments. And it could not be denied that
he sometimes tickled the Five towns, as the five towns likes being tickled.
There was, for example, the notorious sneed incident. Sneed Hall, belonging
to the Earl of Chell, lies a few miles south of the Five Towns,
and from it the pretty Countess of Chell exercises that condescending meddlesomeness which so
frequently exasperates the Five towns. Sir g had got his title by the aid
of the Countess, interfering Iris, as she is locally dubbed. Shortly afterwards
he had contrived to quarrel with the Countess, and the quarrel was conducted by
Sir Gee as a quarrel between equals, which delighted the district. Sir Jee's
final word in it had been to buy a sizeable tract of land near Sneed
Village, just off the Sneed Estate, and to erect thereon a mansion quite
as imposing a Sneed Hall, and far more up to date, and to
call the mansion Sneed Castle. A mighty stroke. Iris was furious, the
Earl's speechless with fury, but they could do nothing naturally, the five Towns
was tickled. It was a propos of the housewarming of Sneed Castle, also
of the completion of his third mayoralty, and of the or duration of the
Dane Technical Institute. That the movement had been started primarily by a few Toadies
for tendering to Sagee a popular gift worthy to express the profound esteem in which
he was officially held in the Five Towns. It having been generally felt that
the gift should take the form of a portrait. A local Dilettantia had suggested
Cressage, and when the Five Towns had inquired into Cressage and discovered that that
genius from the United States was celebrated throughout the civilized world and regarded as the
equal of Vilaskis, whoever Vilaskis might be, and that he had painted half
the aristocracy, and that his income was regal, the suggestion was accepted and
Cressage was approached. Cressage haughtily consented to paint ser Gee's portrait on his usual
conditions, namely that the sitter should go to the Life Village in Bedfordshire,
where Cresige had his principal studio, and that the painting should be exhibited at
the Royal Academy before being shown anywhere else. Cressage was an ra, but
no one thought of putting ra after his name. He was so big that
instead of the Royal Academy conferring distinction on him, he conferred distinction on the
Royal Academy. Sir g went to Bedfordshire and was rapidly painted, and he
came back gloomy. The presentation committee went to Bedfordshire later to inspect the portrait
and they too came back gloomy. Then the Academy exhibition opened, and the
portrait showing Sir G in his robe and chain and in a chair was instantly
hailed as possibly the most glorious masterpiece of modern times. All the critics were
of one accord. The Committee and Sir Gee were reassured, but only partially,
and Sir g rather less so than the committee, For there was something
in the enthusiastic criticisms which gravely disturbed them. An enlightened generation thoroughly familiar with
the dazzling, yearly succession of Cressage's portraits need not be told what this something
was. One critic wrote that Cressage displayed even more than his quote customary astounding
insight into character end quote. Another critic wrote that Cressage's observation was as usual
quote calmly and coldly hostile end quote. Another referred to the quote typical provincial
mayor immortalized for the diversion of future ages end quote. Inhabitants of the five
towns went to London to see the work for which they had seen subscribed,
And they saw a mean, little old man with thin lips and a straggling
gray beard and shifty eyes and pushful snob written all over him, ridiculous in
his gewgaws of office. When you looked at the picture close too, it
was a meaningless mass of colored smudges. But when you stood fifteen feet away
from it, the portrait was absolutely life like, amazing, miraculous. It
was so wondrously lifelike that some of the inhabitants of the five towns burst out
laughing. Many people felt sorry, not for Sir Gee, but for Lady
Dame. Lady Dane was beloved and genuinely respected. She was a simple,
homely, sincere woman, her one weakness being that she had never been able
to see through Sir g Of course, at the presentation ceremony, the portrait
had been ecstatically referred to as a possession, precious forever, and the recipient
and his wife pretended to be overflowing with pure joy in the ownership of it.
It had been hanging in the dining room of Sneed Castle about sixteen months
when Lady Dane told her husband that it would ultimately drive her into the lunatic
asylum. Don't be silly, wife, said, Sir Gee, I wouldn't
part with that portrait for ten times what it cost. This was, to
speak bluntly, a downright lie. Sir Gee secretly hated the portrait more than
anyone hated it. He would have been almost ready to burn down Sneed Castle
in order to get rid of the thing. But it happened that on the
previous evening, in conversation with the magistrate's clerk, his receptive brain had been
visited by a lesson expensive scheme than burning down the castle. Lady Dane sighed,
are you going to town early? She inquired, Yes, he replied,
I'm on the rotor to day. He was chairman of the Borough Bench
of Magistrates. As he drove into town, he revolved his scheme and thought
it wild and dangerous, but still feasible. Two on the bench that morning,
Sir g shocked mister Sherret, the magistrate's clerk, and he utterly disgusted
mister Bourne's, Superintendent of the Borough Police. I do not intend to name
the name of the borough, whether Bursley, Hanbridge, Knight, Longshore or
turn Hill. The inhabitants of the five towns will know without being told.
The rest of the world has no right to know. There had recently occurred
a somewhat thrilling series of burglaries in the district, and the burglars, a
gang of them, was presumed, had escaped the solicitous attentions of the police.
But on the previous afternoon an underling of mister Bournes had caught a man
who was generally believed to be wholly or partly responsible for the burglaries. The
five towns breathed with relief and congratulated mister Bourne, and mister Bourne was well
pleased with himself. The Staffordshire signal headed the item of news smart capture of
a supposed burglar. The supposed burglar gave his name as William Smith and otherwise
behaved in an extremely suspicious manner. Now Sir g sitting as Chief Magistrate in
the Police Court, actually dismissed the charge against the man, overruling his sole
colleague on the bench that morning, Alderman Easton. He dismissed the charge against
William Smith, holding that the evidence for the prosecution was insufficient to justify even
a remand no wonder that mister Bourne was discouraged, not to say angry,
no wonder that that pillar of the law. Mister sherret was pained and shocked
at the conclusion of the case. Ser Jehosifat said that he would be glad
to speak with William Smith afterwards in the magistrates room, indicating that he sympathized
with William Smith and wished to exercise upon William Smith his renowned philanthropy. And
so at about noon, when the court majestically rose, Sir g retired to
the magistrates room, where the humble Alderman Eastern was discreet enough not to follow
him, and awaited William Smith. And William Smith came, guided thither by
a policeman, to whom, in parting from him, he made a rude,
surreptitious gesture. Sir ge, seated in the armchair which dominates the other
chairs round the elm table in the magistrate's room, emitted a preliminary cough.
M Smith, he said, sternly, leaning his elbows on the table.
You are very fortunate this morning, you know, and he gazed at Psmith.
Smith stood near the door, cap in hand. He did not resemble
a burglar who surely ought to be big, muscular and masterful. He resembled
an undersized clerk who has been out of work for a long time, but
who has nevertheless found the means to eat and drink rather plenteously. He was
clothed in a very shabby navy blue suit, frayed at the wrists and ankles,
and greasy in front. His linen collar was brown with dirt. His
fingers were dirty, His hair was unkempt and long, and a young and
lusty black beard was sprouting on his chin. His boots were not at all
pleasant. Yes, Governor Smith replied lightly, with a Manchester accent, and
what's your game? Sir Ge was taken aback. He is a chairman of
the Borough Bench and the leading philanthropist in the county to be so spoken to.
But what could he do? He himself had legally established Smith's innocence.
Smith was as free as air and had a perfect right to adopt any tone
he chose to any man who chose, And Sir Ge desired a service from
William Smith. I was hoping I might be of use to you, said
ser Gehosiphat diplomatically. Well said Smith, that's all right, that is,
But none of your philanthropic dodges, you know, and on want to lead
a new life. And I don't want to turn over a new leaf,
and I don't want to help in hand. No, none of those things.
And what's more, I don't want a situation. I've got old the
situation as I need. But I never refuse money or beer. Neither never
did. And I'm forty years old next month. I suppose burgling doesn't pay
very well, does it? Said he boldly ventured. William Smith laughed coarsely.
It pays right enough, said he. But I don't put my money
on the back Governor. I've put it into a bit of public house property.
When I get the chance, it may pay, said saj. But
it is wrong. It is very anti social, is it? Indeed,
Smith returned dryly, anti social is it? Huh? I've heard it called
plenty of things in my time, but never that. Now I should have
called it quite sociable, lie of making free with strangers and so on.
However, he added, I come across a cove once, as told me
crime was nothing but a disease and ought to be treated as such. I
asked him for a dozen of port, but he never sent it, ever,
being caught before Sir g inquired, not much, Smith exclaimed, and
this will be a lesson to me. I can tell you now, what
are you getting at, Governor, Because my time's money, My time is
sair g coughed once more, Sit down, said Sir G. And William
Smith sat down opposite to him at the table and put his shiny elbows on
the table, precisely in the manner of Sir G's elbows. Well, he
cheerfully encouraged Sir G. How should you like to commit a burglary that was
not a crime, said Sir G, his shifty eyes wandering around the room,
A perfectly lawful burglary. What are you getting at? William Smith was
genuinely astonished at my resident sneed castle, said G. Proceeded, there's a
large portrait of myself in the dining room that I want to have stolen.
You understand stolen. Yes, I want to get rid of it and I
want people to think that it has been stolen. Well, why don't you
stop it one night and steal it yourself and then burn it? William Smith
suggested that would be deceitful, said Sir G. Gravely. I could not
tell my friends that the portrait had been stolen. If it had not been
stolen. The burglary must be entirely genuine. What's the figure, said Smith,
curtly. Figure, what are you going to give me for the job?
Give you for doing the job, said she repeated, His secret and
ineradicable meanness aroused. Give you why I'm giving you the opportunity to honestly steal
a picture that's worth over a thousand pounds. I des it would be worth
two thousand pounds in America, and you want to be paid into the bargain.
Do you know, my man, that people come all the way from
Manchester and even London to see that portrait? He told Smith about the painting.
Then why are you in such a steal to be rid of it?
Queried the burglar. That's my affair, said said she. I don't like
it, Lady Dan doesn't like it, but it's a presentation portrait, and
so I can't you'll see, mister Smith. And how am I going to
dispose of it? When I've got it? Smith demanded, You can't melt
a portrait down as if it were silver. By what you say, Guvnor,
It's known all over the blessed world. Seems to me, I might
just as well try to sell the Nelson column. Oh nonsense, said Sir
G. Nonsense. You'll sell it in America quite easily. It'll be a
fortune to you keep it for a year first, and then send it to
New York. William Smith shook his head and drummed his fingers on the table,
and then quite suddenly he brightened and said, all right, Guvnor,
I'll take it on, just to oblige you. When can you do it,
asked Sir G, hardly concealing his joy. Tonight, no, said
Smith, mysteriously. I'm engaged tonight. Well tomorrow night. No, tomorrow,
I'm engaged tomorrow too. You seem to be very much engaged, my
man, said, she observed, what do you expect? Smith retorted,
business is business. I could do it the night after tomorrow, but that's
Christmas, Eve said. She protested, what if it is Christmas? Eve
said Smith coldly. Would you prefer Christmas Day? I'm engaged on Boxing Day
and the day after. Not in the five towns, I trust, said,
She remarked, No, said Smith shortly. The five Towns is about
sook dry. The affair was arranged for Christmas. Eve now said, She
suggested, Shall I draw your plan of the castle, so that you can
William Smith's face express terrific scorn. Do you suppose, he said, as
I haven't had plans of your castle ever since it was built. What do
you take me for. I'm not a blooming excursionist. I'm not. I'm
a business man, That's what I am. Sir g was snubbed, and
he agreed submissively to all William Smith's arrangements for the innocent burglary. He perceived
that in William Smith he had stumbled on a professional of the highest class,
and this good fortune pleased him. There's only one thing that riles me,
said Smith in parting, and that is that you'll go and say that,
after you'd done everything you could for me, I went and burgled your castle,
and you'll talk about the ingratitude of the lower classes. I know you,
guv'nor three. On the afternoon of the twenty fourth of December, Si
Jehosifat drove home to Sneedcastle from the principle of the Three Dane Manufactories and found
Lady Danes superintending the work of packing up trunks. He and she were to
quit the castle that afternoon in order to spend Christmas on the other side of
the five towns, under the roof of their eldest son, John, who
had a new house, a new wife, and a new baby. Male.
John was a domineering person, and being rather proud of his house and
all that was his, he had obstinately decided to have his own Christmas at
his own heart, Grandpapa and Grandmamma, drawn by the irresistible attraction of that
novelty a grandson. Though Missus John had declined to have the little thing named
Jehosaphat, had yielded to John's solicitations, and the family gathering for the first
time in history, was not to occur around Sir Gee's mahogany. Sir g
very characteristically said nothing thing to Lady Dane immediately he allowed her to proceed with
the packing of the trunks, and then tea was served, and the time
was approaching for the carriage to come round to take them to the station,
when at last he suddenly remarked, I shan't be able to go with you
to John's this afternoon. Oh Gee, she exclaimed, really you are tiresome.
Why couldn't you tell me before? I will come over tomorrow morning.
Perhaps in time for church. He proceeded, ignoring her demand for an explanation.
He always did ignore her demand for an explanation. Indeed, she only
asked for explanations in a mechanical and perfunctory manner. She had long since ceased
to expect them. So G had been born like that, devious, mysterious,
incalculable, and Lady Dane accepted him as he was. She was somewhat
surprised therefore, when he went on, I have some minutes of committee meetings
that I really must go carefully through wounds send off tonight. And you know
as well as I do, as there'll be no chance of doing that at
John's. I've telegraphed to John. He was obviously nervous and self conscious.
There's no food in the hearts, sighed Lady Dane, and the servants are
all going away except Calier, and he can't cook your dinner tonight. I
think i'd better stay myself and look after you. You'll do no such thing,
said sa G decisively. As for my dinner, anything will do for
that. The servants have been promised their holiday to start from this evening,
and they must have it. I can manage here, spoke the philanthropist with
his unshakable sense of justice. So Lady Dane departed anxious and worry having previously
arranged something cold for Sir G in the dining room and instructed Kalier about boiling
the water for Sir G's tea on Christmas morning. Callier was the under coachman
and a useful odd man. He it was who would drive Sir G to
the station on Christmas morning and then guard the castle and the stables thereof during
the absence of the family and the other servants. Callier slept over the stables,
and after Sir G had consumed his cold repast in the dining room,
the other servants went and Sir Gee was alone in the castle facing the portrait.
He had managed the affair fairly well, he thought. Indeed, he
had a talent for chicane, and none knew it better than himself. It
would have been dangerous if the servants had been left in the castle. They
might have suffered from insomnia and heard William Smith and into feared with the operations
of William Smith. On the other hand, Sir G had no intention whatever
of leaving the castle uninhabited to the mercies of William Smith. He felt that
he himself must be on the spot to see that everything went right and that
nothing went wrong. Thus, the previously arranged scheme for the servant's holiday fitted
perfectly into his plans, and all that he had had to do was to
refuse to leave the castle till the morrow. It was ideal. Nevertheless,
he was a little afraid of what he had done and of what he was
going to permit William Smith to do. It was certainly dangerous, certainly rather
a wild scheme. However, the die was cast, and within twelve hours
he would be relieved of the intolerable incubus of the portrait. And when he
thought of the humiliations which that poor had caused him, when he remembered the
remarks of his son's concerning it, especially John's remarks, when he recalled phrases
about it in London newspapers, he squirmed and told himself that no scheme for
getting rid of it could be too wild and perilous. And after all,
the burglary dodge was the only dodge, absolutely the only conceivable practical method of
disposing of the portrait, except burning down the castle, and surely it was
preferable to a conflagration to arson. Moreover, in case of fire at the
castle, some blundering fool would be sure to cry the portrait. The portrait
must be saved, and the portrait would be saved. He gazed at the
repulsive, hateful thing in the center of the lower part of the massive gold
frame. Was the legend presented to Sergeyhoseph that day night as a mark of
public esteem and gratitude, et cetera. He wondered if William Smith would steal
the frame. It was to be hoped that he would not steal the frame.
In fact, William Smith would find it very difficult to steal that frame
unless he had an accomplice or so. This is the last time I shall
see you, said Sir g to the portrait. Then he unfastened the catch
of one of the windows in the dining room, as per contract with William
Smith, turned out the electric light and went to bed in the deserted castle.
He went to bed, but not to sleep. It was no part
of Sir GE's program to sleep. He intended to listen, and he did
listen, and about two o'clock, precisely the hour which William Smith that indicated.
He fancied he heard muffled and discreet noises. Then he was sure that
he heard them. William Smith had kept his word. Then the noises ceased
for a period, and then they recommenced. Sir Ge restrained his curiosity as
long as he could, and when he could restrain it no more, he
rose and silently opened his bedroom window and put his head out into the nipping
night air of Christmas. And by good fortune, he saw the vast oblong
of the picture, carefully enveloped in sheets, being passed by a couple of
dark figures through the dining room window to the garden outside. William Smith had
a colleague then, and he was taking the frame as well as the canvas.
Soir Gee watched the men disappear down the avenue, and they did not
reappear. Sir Gee returned to bed. Yes, he felt himself equal to
facing it out with his family and friends. He felt himself equal to pretending
that he had no knowledge of the burglary. Having slept a few hours,
he got up early, and half dressed, descended to the dining room just
to see what sort of a mess William Smith had made the canvas of the
portrait lay flat on the hearth rug, with the following words written on it
in chalk. This is no use to me. It was the massive gold
frame that had gone further. As was later discovered, all the silver had
gone. Not a spoon was left in the castle. End of the Christmas
Eve burglary by Arnold Bennett