The Birching Tableaux from Frank and I by Anonymous
"Well then," she said, "I will show you two tableaux of whipping; then a couple of tableaux from mythological subjects; and finish up with two naughty tableaux."
Both of us were perfectly satisfied with the programme she offered, and we said so.
She then told us to take our seats on two easy-chairs which were placed a few feet distant from the curtains, and she added that we should have to wait a short time, as the scenery had to be set, and the girls dressed for the first two tableaux.
Then she made a sign to the girls, and went behind the curtain, followed by a whole troop of laughing damsels.
As we sat waiting for the entertainment to commence, we could hear the girls bustling about, chattering to each other in low tones, and occasionally laughing as they dressed themselves.
After about ten minutes, Mrs. Leslie called out, in a clear voice: "The first tableau will represent, 'The Birching of a Nihilist Woman in a Russian Prison.'"
Immediately the curtains separated in the middle, drawn aside by unseen agency, and the tableau appeared, brilliantly lighted from above so that we could see the smallest details.
The scene showed a large, bare, prison cell with whitewashed walls, stone floor and grated window. In it were six figures, five 'men' and one woman, all attired in costume, and personating, respectively: the governor of the prison, the surgeon, a prison warder, two soldiers, and the Nihilist lady. In the middle of the cell there was a long, curved, wooden structure, upon which the 'Nihilist lady' was bound in a bent position, her feet resting on the floor. Her arms were stretched out on each side of the 'horse' , her wrists were secured to rings; and her ankles were strapped together, and fastened to a bar at the lower part of the structure.
She was dressed in prison costume, consisting of a loose, blue serge frock, the skirt of which, as well as her chemise, being rolled up to the middle of her back, and her skimpy Parisian drawers were down below her knees. The 'Nihilist lady' - whom I recognised as Edith - was a slender, shapely damsel with a fine petite bottom, slender thighs, and legs cased in black stockings, which contrasted well with her white skin. At the left of the 'culprit' stood the 'warder' who was inflicting the punishment; a clean shaven man'wearing a uniform consisting of a dark green tunic, with trousers of the same colour tucked into long boots reaching to the knees, and a round flat cap with a peak.
'He' held high in the air a thick set of birch rods, bound together, which seemed just about to fall on the 'culprit's' bare bottom. At the other side stood the 'surgeon', a whiskered, moustachioed 'man', in a plain dark uniform, and beside him was the 'governor', with a fierce moustache, dressed in an imposing uniform, with medals on 'his' breast. A little to the rear of the horse stood the two 'soldiers', with cross-belts and side arms.
The 'culprit's' bottom had been most skillfully made up, so that the whole surface of the skin, from the loins to the upper part of the thighs, appeared crimson and striped all over with long livid weals, spotted with blood which also appeared to be trickling down the 'culprit's' white thighs. She had her head turned to one side, and she was glaring with eyes full of intense horror at the uplifted rod; her face was scarlet and distorted with pain; her mouth was wide open, with the lips drawn back from the teeth, as if she were screaming loudly; and the tears appeared to be streaming down her cheeks.
The onlookers looked on, seemingly to be enjoying the torture of the young woman’s buttocks. I could imagine the pleasure that the punisher would have had under the circumstances.
The whole scene appeared so intensely real that I actually waited, holding my breath, for the rod to fall once more upon the bleeding bottom and to hear the victim shriek. Since that time I have seen many 'Living Pictures' but I have never seen one better done. The only thing to top it was an actual punishment that I witnessed in a Girls Reformatory several years later, but alas I digress.
In another moment the curtains were drawn, shutting out the scene. Ford and I applauded vigorously, clapping our hands and crying out: 'Brava! Brava! Well done! Very well done!" Then, turning to me, my companion whispered : "It was splendid! The illusion was perfect. I have never seen anything to equal it, in Paris or Vienna."
