Femme Fatale

by Pat Shipman

  —that during their marriage, especially in the last years, she was beaten almost daily and spat at in the face;

  —that especially during the last week he offended her badly in different ways, for example he would address himself to the servants while she was present, calling her “that bitch of mine”;

  —that in June after a student flower show, while he was drunk, he shouted at her, “I will make your life so miserable that you will bugger off!”;

  —that during the last two months he often drank too much and he baited her and provoked her and insulted her and then sometimes didn’t speak to her for an entire day;

  —that in the presence of his lawyer Mr. D. W. van Gigch, at his house in June 1902, he spoke in such an undignified way to her that the lawyer said that he has never seen or heard a woman so insulted like that;

  —that in June 1902 and July 1902, at her house, he gave her a beating with a walking stick so that the maidservant had to come between them;

  —that in August 1902 he ran after her with his slipper to beat her so that one of the servants had to come between them with a broom and pan and that he then spit in her face;

  —that in May 1902 at the home of his sister, Mrs. Wolsinck née MacLeod, in the Leidsekaade 69, he hit her so that she flew out of the room and fell into the corridor;

  —that since a month ago, he has not given her any money for the household or given her any clothes and that he has a pension of 3000 guilders but left her completely without any means;

  —that he sometimes gave a guilder to the servants for the household, he would say, “Bring the change and give it back to me or otherwise that bitch will keep it!”;

  —that he yesterday told Mrs. Lubeck who was there in court in the presence of her daughter: “That bitch of mine has poisoned my child with unripe pears”;

  —that he said to she who demands the divorce, in the presence of the servants, “you will stay no matter what; you want my money [pension]”;

  —that yesterday without giving notice to his wife, under the pretense of posting a letter, took their only child of 4 years old, who had been sick in bed the day before, named Louise Jeanne, with him to Velp;

  —that the complainant, on the basis of all these events that happened during their marriage; adultery, insults, and excesses, committed by him toward her; and requests the Court to reach the conclusion, should it please the President of the Court, on the grounds aforemen tioned, against her spouse, to grant a divorce, legal separation from bed and board, with the provision:

  1. that the child Louise Jeanne should remain with the complainant;

  2. the complainant would go and live with the Honorable Mr. and Mrs. Goodvriend-Sweerts de Landas in Arnhem, number 6 Amsterdamschen, without having to receive her husband there;

  3. that he would give her a monthly payment of 100 guilders;

  4. that support and items of daily living would be given to her.

  The next morning, Gretha’s father received a letter from Louise. It read: “On request of my brother I have the honor to inform you, that he will visit you this morning at 9 o’clock. He has returned from Velp and is staying with me.”

  Zelle was surprised; he did not yet know that Rudolf had taken Nonnie, that Gretha had fled to Arnhem, or that she had filed for divorce. According to Zelle, during the meeting Rudolf offered not to contest the divorce, which would involve dragging Gretha’s name and reputation “through the mud” and treating her “like scum,” if Zelle gave him two thousand guilders. Zelle refused; almost certainly, he didn’t have two thousand guilders to give away.

  The alternative version of events given by Charles Heymans is that Rudolf decided not to contest the divorce, since it would be difficult and expensive to defend himself—and, of course, he also wanted to be rid of Gretha.

  On August 29, Gretha was summoned to hear the judgment of the court. On the basis of her petition, the court believed that reconciliation was impossible and granted the legal separation with the provisions she had requested on August 30.

  Anxious to preserve his reputation among his Indies friends, Rudolf wrote a letter to the Balkstras in Java, telling them untruthfully that Gretha had left him. He pledged to see that she and Nonnie were always properly looked after—an ironic if not downright deceptive statement considering events that followed—and concluded: “I have no more debt, hunger, and suffering.”

  On the day the divorce was granted, Rudolf put a notice into the newspapers, including The News of the Day and the Arnhem Daily:

  WARNING.

  Do not furnish credit or merchandise to Mme. MacLeod, née Zelle, because the undersigned has resigned all responsibility for her.

  R. MacLeod

  The Goodvriends were embarrassed by the advertisement Rudolf had placed or by the notoriety of the accusations in the divorce petition, or perhaps they were simply tired of their guest. In any case, on September 2, Gretha and Nonnie moved to a boardinghouse in Worth-Rheden near Arnhem, depending upon the court-ordered support to pay the bills. At that time, Gretha had only three guilders and fifty cents—roughly thirty dollars in modern currency—to her name. She wrote to her father, thanking him for his last letter:

  I have suffered terribly and hope that it is over with. But God knows, what a man like MacLeod will invent to take more from me and my child! Will you watch over me, for he is so base and vulgar over nothing! Oh, the advertisement has injured me deeply, for I never bought anything on his name [credit], never, never! I have asked Mr. Philips if he wants to file a suit asking for a full apology, by name, in the papers; a different prosecution because of insult and calumny. Is he now able to do me and Nonnie any further harm?

  I have been here since yesterday, because I do not like to impose too long on someone else’s hospitality. It is pretty here and quiet and I do not ask for more. Nonnie and I sit the whole day in the woods or stay at home. May things remain this way and [I pray] he does not make my life any more difficult! Surely my situation here has been made impossible by that advertisement; I dare not put my name anywhere. It ran in big letters also in the Arnhem Daily; shame, shame!

  Oh, I am still so distressed and think it might be more judicious to go to Brussels or Wiesbaden to live. All of the Netherlands knows my name and he has insulted me so!

  She added a fervent postscript:

  P.S. I am still in a terrible mess…I thank God that I have had the courage to apply for the divorce, despite the consequences…. I have placed a newspaper ad to do housekeeping for a lady who lives on her own.

  I don’t find it shameful to work, and I must earn something honestly, I want to pay my lawyer respectably. I regard, of course as given, that I keep Nonnie with me and plainly I must not turn my nose up at anything. For rent I need 50 guilders [about $450 in today’s currency]—then I have to pay off the laundry, clothes, tuition fees and costs [for Nonnie]; well then, I do not [ know] where that will come from…. In reality I do not want to do housekeeping; I remain who I am, but want to settle my debts in an honest manner and not make a mess or a sharp bargain in the dark [cheat anyone]; you know that is not in my character.

  But this way I look only like I am trying to live like a lady; with what I am owed [by Rudolf], then I will pay off my debts. The 100 guilder payment from MacLeod [that is coming ] I will use for myself and what I save, I will take for Nonnie to the savings bank; then she will not stand without a penny in the world.

  But Rudolf pleaded poverty to the court on September 10. He managed to get the amount reduced to fifty guilders, and even then he did not pay. The court ruled that his pension could not be garnished.

  Gretha heard of this ruling and wrote hysterically to her father on September 12:

  I am not well, I don’t sleep and am very anxious. The Indies pension was paid on 2 September and was intended to last for the next three months [but it is already spent by Rudolf]. Therefore I must go three whole months before there is any more money!…

  The court awarded me my c
hild and 1200 guilders a year, and now he does not want to pay; help me, Father! Aunt Sweerts is a complete dear, but is not inclined to lend money, and how am I to live these three months? If nobody helps me, I must return [to him] out of poverty; I must live with my child somehow.

  At the moment, I can do nothing more and cannot even get my washing because I have no money left. Yes, certainly, if I can find a rent-controlled room, I will come to live in Amsterdam, and as soon as I have money, I will come home one day with Nonnie to see you, perhaps next week; I will write you as this approaches, however. It is nevertheless too terrible that because of lack of money I should have to return to a coarse brute, who will not trouble himself to comply with the pronouncement of the court.

  I am so nervous! my head spins. MacLeod does not pay and it is a cunning trick to recover his child; he will beat me, however, until I walk away and then the business is finished….

  My lawyer says that I should put a newspaper ad as follows: “Mrs. MacLeod Zelle explains that the advertisement, placed by her spouse in The News of the Day of 3 August 1902, is a cowardly revenge because she brings a petition against him for divorce on the basis of abuse.” What do you think of this? I am ashamed myself of it, but write me at once what you think of it. I am entirely desperate; everything beats against my head; there was too much grief and when [I thought] MacLeod had to pay, everything was settled, but now I have no hope. I cannot go back to let him beat me and treat me in such an unworthy manner.

  Aunt Sweerts wrote me a completely sweet letter but informed me I could not possibly stay with her [any longer]. She has taken MacLeod’s side! These three months I shall receive nothing! It is such madness! MacLeod is obliged to take care of us! I am so deeply unfortunate. Can’t you lend me something? Someone must help me; I will shoot myself rather than return to MacLeod.

  After receiving Gretha’s letter of September 12, Zelle managed to send her twenty-five guilders, which, although it would not pay all her bills, was something. Neither she nor Nonnie had proper warm clothes or shoes for the winter in the Netherlands.

  Rudolf was having second thoughts about the divorce, or perhaps his strategy of depriving his wife of money so she would come back to him was not working as well as he expected. On October 13, he wrote to Zelle: “I have thought long and hard and I have decided that you are the person who I need to sort things out, because you know about everything and I want to make immediate peace, I want it to be as if everything that has happened could be forgotten as if it had not happened. If you know something, can you please contact me at once.”

  Zelle met with Rudolf and chastised him but also tried to negotiate an arrangement. Nonnie could live with Captain van Mourik, a pensioned military friend of Rudolf’s in Velp, so that both Rudolf and Gretha could see her. Zelle also asked Rudolf for fifty guilders for Gretha, but Rudolf replied that he cared nothing for the ruling of the court and that he could not pay, as he had no money.

  Instead, writing through Captain van Mourik, Rudolf proposed a reconciliation. Gretha had no money and mounting bills. She had already entertained some gentlemen in maisons de rendez-vous—houses for intimate, discreet meetings of a sexual nature, and was perilously close to becoming a full-time prostitute. Although she knew Rudolf had taken up with another woman, Gretha’s only options were prostitution or returning to her husband.

  She wrote back to Rudolf in a pleasant tone, using the nickname Gretha, which he liked. She apologized for calling him a cad, a tyrant, and a drunkard. She closed her letter with “The idea that all is arranged [for our reunion] makes me happy and content, with a big kiss always, your Gretha.”

  Rudolf sent her some money and she replied, thanking him but pointing out she had no winter clothes. Her strategy worked; Rudolf sent more money. On November 1, she wrote him again: “What a surprise this afternoon [to receive the money]…it is so kind of you; I am happy and almost confused. Tuesday we return [to our life together]. I am very very happy and you know, I will thank you well.” Though she signed her letter affectionately “with big kisses from Gretha to John,” her previous letters suggest this affection was simply a ploy. Being nice to men was the only way she knew to obtain money.

  In early November of 1902, she returned to Amsterdam to live with Nonnie and Rudolf in a small apartment on the Ruyterkade near the café Czaar Peter. The reunion was predictably short-lived and unhappy. Somewhere during this unsettled period, it was agreed that Rudolf would keep Non with him and Gretha would never see her again. He had longed for years to free his daughter of Gretha’s influence, and Gretha was now desperate enough to agree.

  Her marriage and her motherhood were finished.

  8

  The Birth of Mata Hari

  GRETHA WAS A LOST SOUL without direction during this period of conflict and unhappiness. She was no longer daughter, mother, or wife. The variety of names by which she identified herself up to this point reflected the labile nature of her identity; she tried on new personas as if they were dresses, hoping to find a more flattering one. She was at heart a shape-shifter who became what those around her wanted her to be. It was her greatest charm and her most dangerous trait.

  She had lightened her responsibilities by giving up her daughter, but she had not improved her circumstances materially. She had no home, no income, no husband, and no future. The situation seemed so hopeless that she went to stay briefly and miserably with Tante Frida, who encouraged her to work as a mannequin, modeling clothes. Gretha hoped instead to pursue an acting career, though women who pursued this path were considered to have loose morals. She left Tante Frida’s to stay with her aunt and uncle in The Hague, but she found no honorable work there either. Everything she tried reinforced the message that her body, appearance, and sexual favors were her only useful assets.

  She decided to leave for Paris, the place of chic fashion and cosmopolitan life that she had longed for while trapped in Sindanglaja. “Why Paris?” a journalist asked her years later.

  “I don’t know. I thought all women who ran away from their husbands went to Paris,” she replied with a charming naïveté.

  In 1902, the MacLeods legally separated. Changing her name to Lady Gresha MacLeod, Margaretha fled to Paris. “I thought all women who ran away from their husbands went to Paris,” she later told a journalist. (Author’s collection)

  She arrived in Paris early in 1903 with very little money and no connections. She looked for work posing for artists but, according to Charles Heymans, was told she looked better with her clothes on—which seems improbable considering her later acclaim as a performer who was nearly naked onstage. She claimed to be a widow of a Dutch Indies soldier who was trying to support herself and her two children, but sympathy got her few jobs. She tried acting and may have toyed with dancing, but the only dependable source of income available to her was pleasing men for money. Rudolf threatened to have the police bring her back or to place another ad in a prominent newspaper that would ruin her socially. He was still her husband, despite their legal separation, and it is unclear on what grounds he could have had her arrested. One source suggests that he threatened to have her extradited and committed to a state institution for “incorrigibles.” This probably meant that, in the view of society at large, she had demonstrably lost her mind because she was a respectably married woman and yet had taken to a life of prostitution. If she had, then she was merely a sex worker and not yet a high-priced, fashionable demimondaine.

  After months in Paris with little work, Gretha was desperate again and wrote to Rudolf’s cousin General Edward MacLeod, in Nijmegen, begging for help. She returned to the Netherlands, feeling beaten and defeated, and went to stay with the general and his wife in their rural home. In January of 1904, she wrote in a letter:

  Behold me, then, condemned to remain here [in Nijmegen], here where there exists only the shadow of a gray and humid hearth in which only the copper pots have the right to shine in the pale sunlight. Where there exists the silent, the grave, the hostile street,
in which an alien footstep calls the anxious housewives to windows shrouded in lace curtains. Here, where a little tulip garden shudders in the winter winds. Here where the fog, the soft fog, veils everything and blankets to a silvery chime to strokes of the municipal carillon. Here there is the incessant overseeing of beldames [mothers-in-law] and matrons who have vaguely heard reports of a flight to Paris and dances in theaters. Here, in fact, is shame and nostalgia.

  Her complaints of Rudolf’s behavior finally moved the general to write to reprimand his nephew, who promptly told the general his version of the truth. Gretha was turned out of the MacLeod house. She left again for Paris in the spring of 1904. With no money in her pocket but a lot of bravado, she arrived and checked into a very good hotel, intending to pay her bills in whatever way she could.

  Gretha obtained a job with the equestrian circus and riding school in the rue Bénouville. Ernst Molier had set up his circus in 1880, hiring attractive and skilled performers to do trick riding for audiences comprising mostly Paris society. Though Gretha was a fine horsewoman and striking in appearance, Molier advised her that she might do better with dancing than riding and helped her make contact with society ladies who might provide entrée to the right circles.

  With a superb sense of what would succeed, she developed a series of “sacred dances” that she ostensibly learned in the Indies and began to create a mythology about herself. Her style was utterly novel; her ability to create a mood was strong; and her costumes were extremely revealing. As she explained later to friend and painter Piet van der Hem about this time in her life, “I never could dance well. People came to see me because I was the first who dared to show myself naked to the public.”

  Her genius lay not in what she did but in how she presented herself. She adopted the name Lady Gresha MacLeod, claiming to be the widow of a Scottish officer who had been stationed in the Indies, where she had learned the secrets of Oriental dance. Cancan girls at the Moulin Rouge and even less respectable theaters showed their naked legs and bosoms. She distinguished herself from them by claiming hers were sacred, holy dances—a form of worship, part of a fusion of sexuality and religion. It was a brilliant move.