The Character of Lady Grey is one of Marsden's earliest works, and regrettably does not survive. The Jung character has drastically different motivations and constitutions (being a theif rather than an anarchist) and as the character is obviously far different, it would be a mistake to present it as a reference.

The only authentic period references to Lady Gray are from a letter written by Grace Dreeka Dodd to her Cousin Marie Dodd in Philadelphia. Grace Dodd was a student at the Corcoran School in Washington and an intimate of Thaddeus Walker. Unusually for the time, she was a divorcee, having filed on the grounds of desertion and adultery against her husband Burt Garett, a Washington Artist in 1901, and been divorced in Warrenton Virginia (then a quick divorce capital) in 1902.

Grace Dodd would go on to be an illustrator for several prestigious magazines in the late teens and early 20s, and was an associate of artist Neysa McMein, and other New York Literati in the mid and late 20's. She may have executed the original item cards for Clarence, and is almost certainly responsible for the stats card.

She is believed to have been romantically involved with Thaddeus Walker for a number of years, though never very seriously, and he recuperated at her cottage in Connecticut after his suicide attempt in 1931. She died in an auto accident in 1946, after moving to California in 1937.

Lady Grey

I'm not sure how good a game Clarence was, but I certainly had a good time in the role of Lady Grey. If this game does make it up to Philadelphia - and there is talk of it, you must play and bring Birdie and the Gimp.

I'd not done anything like this in years - of course when we were little girls we did play acting impromptu like you read about in Louisa May Alcott's books. But it's been a long time since I'd gotten out to do anything of that sort with the horrible situation with Burt and Lydia.

The character I got was written by young Abe Marsden. He's Henrietta Wallace's little protégé, but you shouldn't hold that against him as despite it, he's quite talented, though what they'd call in a Western, "wet behind the ears."

I had said before the game that I fancied playing a villainess. When one is a "scarlet woman" and all, one had best live up to reputation. I suppose if Henrietta had her way I shouldn't have been there at all. I was branded as a "horrible friend of that Mister Walker," (so I heard Henrietta say, and I've an idea it was meant to be overheard).

Thus I could not play (thank all that is Holy) one of her precious characters. I had put forward to Thad that I'd fancy something like the Lady de Wynteur, or a less hysterical Lady MacBeth.

Thus I got given the lovely character of Lady Grey. That's a bit of a joke, as it's also a type of tea, though "Earl Grey" is the more famous. Thad said that "Teahouses" were a bit of a joke between he and Abe, from their schooldays, and that everyone else thought puns about tea were just hilarious. I talked with her a bit the week before when I went round to see Thad (not as scandalous as you'd think, cousine mine - his bachelor digs do not allow unchaperoned women in private apartments, so we contented ourselves with a romantic meal at the Horn and Hardart Automat - such is Thad's budget and my social prospects - I have no idea how Dolores fares).

At any rate, Lady Grey was a pretty fine character to play and I had a rousting good time being her!

For starters, she's an anarchist! Not of the bomb throwing ilk, no she's much too clever for that. I'm told by Thad that she's based on a couple of characters from various of the Dime novels that the schoolboys devour - there's a Lady Bretwyche from a book called Red Riding Hood by Frances Millett Notley. It's rather dated now, being about twenty years old, but she's apparently a ripping good character. An English Governess who is a spy for the Russian Rodina who is a "satanic fiend" and a first rate liar.

Then there is Virginia Claire from a novel called Sir Percival, by J. H. Shorthouse, also a bit dated now. She's a duke's niece who calls herself a "petroleuse" and wants to overthrow the social system.

All that seems prescient after the assassination of course, now that Anarchy is on everyone's lips, so these volumes are getting dragged back out, though there is no shortage of more recent references. I suspect there was a bit of the more radical side of Emma Goldman in there.

I suppose I was selected because I've said I don't give a whit about politics, and that I think Jack Cade had a pretty good policy. "First thing we do let's kill all the lawyers." Thad has had to hear me going on about Burt enough of course.

Well at any rate I was kept plenty busy. I had a good bit to do.

Towards the bottom of my sheet, it said "You are thinking it is time to settle down and get married." My good friend Dolores Cooke had really gotten me into this, despite Thad's good offices (which I have been careful not to leave any paperwork in since she has taken up 'residence' there as it were). She directed me towards Abe (with some enthusiasm, as she has little interest in my having long dealings with Thad). So I had to carry this up to Abe as soon as I read it. Our conversation went something like this...

I: "I'm a little confused about this part of my character...where it says I wish to wed. Now check me on this, but I am looking to overthrow the established social order and in a rein of bombs a la Bakunin bring the social orders down in chaos. But somewhere along the way, I'm thinking that maybe a little white cottage and a picket fence might be nice?"

He: "Perhaps after the revolution. With a revolutionary?"

I: "Mmm....that sounds delightful. Would the Bride wear something in black perhaps? We could name our first baby Petrolina, or if a boy, Petrolatum. No wait, that's taken. A lovely little household, going to the market on tuesdays for a bit of milk, butter, eggs, and some cleaning varsol to hurl at the big house.

He: "Oh damn. Look Henrietta made us put that in all the women's sheets. I've no idea why you'd want to get married."

I: "Believe me I've done it and there was only one reason, and it was by no means a worthwhile one..."

He coloured a very nice shade not unlike one of your father's tomatoes, and I made my way away. Needless to say I did not become wed. Once in a lifetime is enough. I suspect the bomb-hurling Hartmann was to be my match, but he blew himself up.

He had plans to kill the President with an improved Machine gun, but apparently didn't have it, and needed to steal it. He approached me about that, and I was to steal it from Thomas Edison Jr. Unfortunately Bradley Wilcox who was playing that unfortunate lad was one of Henrietta's little creatures and had been duly warned about a "loose woman." Therefore, despite the fact that he had every reason to be civil to me, he would not have given me the time of day if I'd paid him a gold dollar on the minute.

Sigh, so there it was. That at least was frustrating. And so Hartmann decided instead to hurl a bomb at the President and got himself blown to flinders for his trouble. I don't know if they would have let him succeed if he'd got the machine gun or not, though I'm told by Thad he would have. It would have saved everyone a bit of trouble in the end, since the new President was in fact a Chinaman who wished to invade us. As if the Chinese have nothing better to do than try to take over the Americas. The whole plot was rather yellow, in the Hearst fashion, but of course that's all the rage these days since we've got Aguinaldo put down in the Phillipines. God forbid anybody should listen to Senator Hoar or Andrew Carnegie. And there's any wonder why I don't care a whit for politics.

At any rate, I'd stolen an airship. This was all rather complicated. I was apparently a master thief, though I didn't actually have any way to steal anything. I appealed to poor Thad about this, but he was rather three sheets to the wind, so I took it up with Abe. He wrote me out an ability whereby if I were to be in a conversation with someone for a bit, I could take an item from them just as if I'd beaten them in combat. There was some presumption of an unspoken affair to be conducted offstage in the matter, as it said they couldn't be angry about their loss. Not that it kept anyone from being or made them take it gracefully.

I had stolen, or rather secured this airship for a Dr. Nicola, a charming gentleman ( and the player was quite charming), before the start of game, as it had crashed into some mountains where Dick Lightheart had crashed it . There was a good bit of detail mostly aimed at making this seem reasonable, as it is rather wild. It read well the way Abe wrote it.

Fortunately, I was not forced to depend for my entertainment upon the good offices of Brad Wilcox. Mr. Ivan Collins was cast as Dr. Raleigh, a time traveller from the future who had seen the desolation of the Earth by the Martains, who it turned out by some turn of fortune was my long lost brother. Mr. Collins was a very convincing roleplayer and as the evening wore on, suffice it to say that I eased his weary mind about the terrible future he had beheld. His sister quite approved as she's been an occasional caller on Mr. Walker. Nothing ignoble of course, but Mr. Collins was to say the least greatful, and many glasses were shared in a very warm spirit (sisterly of course!)

Ivan had little to do, as Dr. Raliegh's plots were largely accomplished or derailed. Having reported the Martian invasion he could do little to prevent it. He had given a drug called "Accelerator" to some of his allies before the start of game, but as Dr. Schultze was a disturbing fellow (the player was Paul Blaylock) who gave us both the shivers, and was largely concerned with hunting down persons of my sort, sawing their brain cases open, and extracting their "anti social glands," Ivan wanted little to do with him, finding his dialog about putting inferior sorts of people into lethal chambers a bit too convincing and deciding he was one of those sorts of people whose obsessions we might do well to avoid after witnessing his glee at excising the anti-social gland of Miss Carrie Nation. Other persons have since vouched for Paul being no more than a brilliant actor, but I should find it hard to have dinner with him after his "performance."

His other partner Dr. Roquelaure was quite absorbed in the personal issues of Tess of the D'Urbervilles, and preferred such attentions to any strong concerns for the salvation of the world which he accounted when challenged by Mr. King upon the matter "begins with the individual." Miss D'Urbervilles (is that how one should address her) seemed quite gratified by his attentions, though I am certain his discussions of the "Seduction Theory" of psychoanalysis which is put forward by a German Doctor, the theory being I believe that since the Germans don't practice the sexual arts, they must write about them. At any rate it passed as an excuse to mention repeatedly sex topics in conversation with the dear girl. I cannot say whether she was appalled or thrilled, though I frankly thought it a bit forward. Not, after Burt that I am given to any great desire for discourses upon sex (though one thinks perhaps I should, be having little enough knowledge of it from experience with one who was master of its arts).

I felt rather bad for the inevitable betrayal that must come. Poor Mr. Collins could probably have been persuaded to do any bomb hurling that was necessary, but he felt rather poorly in the morning, and Mr. Hartmann was blown up and had become through the magic of the game a policeman.

I had my work cut out for me to obtain a sufficient device of terror, however it was my fortune to have made the acquaintance of the unfortunately named Mrs. Peedee Boyd, who was a spy for the Confederacy, whose fortunes ran high that morning, having taken much of the United States through the arts of war. She should have been able to lay quantity on a good amount of gunpowder, but Horatio King was unwilling to issue a card for any such thing.

Dr. Nicola was at that point getting on rather well with Mrs. Boyd (a widow) and so was more than willing to assist by designing a "small and effective engine of destruction, such as the anarchists are prone to use."

I found from Thad that I was slated to be married to Mr. Collins. Henrietta had observed our friendly exchanges, and concluded that whatever our estate in her eyes, we were fit to be wed. My understanding is that she was critically short of candidates, and I later found that was due to the good offices of Thad who had conspired at great length to deprive her of wedding, which was apparently her one true goal in the game. After a brief consultation, I volunteered to be wed at the glorious climax of the game, by which time Ivan should be up and about (Lena having let us know that he was stirring, but far from making his toilet, though he'd gotten a bit of solid food).

Alas poor Mr. Collins. Poor Dr. Raleigh was not to know the consummation of his passions. For it was not Mr. King alone who could issue cards indicating the possession of items.

The shriek which Henrietta let out when at the climax of our ceremony I detonated a bomb was really quite remarkable! I believe the word was "What!" however it became a long keening wail which left a hush in its wake. I smiled, blushed demurely and curtsied, showing my card, duly inscribed by Thaddeus Walker, indicating my possession of a large bomb made from nitrocellulose. There was some brief consternation about whether or not I could have detonated it, but Henrietta had been thoughtful enough to provide candles for the altar setting, and this gave undeniably the necessary spark. In truth with Dr. Nicola's offices this should not have been necessary as gun cotton requires only a mercury fuse (so I am learned now in the arts of mayhem), but Henrietta would hear none of it.

Mr. King was called in to referee between the smirking Thaddeus and the shrieking harridan that was Henrietta. She was convinced that the presence of a policeman should have kept me from introducing a bomb, but the ex-Hartmann was quite partial to me, and avowed that he would not have seen the engine of destruction hidden in the Bride's Boquet. After some consideration, he ruled, much to Henrietta's grief, that he could see no reason why I could not set off a bomb, and set those about to arguing the case for their survival. I was thus incinerated at my own nuptials. Mr. Collins was a trifle disappointed, but I have promised to make it up by having dinner with him next week.

And that is how I fared, and how your "scarlet cousin" spent a most enjoyable time this week past....