Chilling Locales: Leviathan

 

Leviathan, thou noble ship,
Thou mighty monarch of the seas,
May thy stalwart form and mighty force
War’s desolating horrors ease.
We view the grandeur of thy bulk,
And gaze with wonder and with awe
At thy great magnitude and might
Which surpass visions we foresaw.

Adele M. Marshall, from the History of the USS Leviathan

Vaterland, the pride of Germany's Hamburg-America Line, arrived in New York harbour in late June, 1914. She did not leave.

Vaterland was, at that time, the largest ship afloat. A three-stack luxury liner too powerful for her own good; when trying to berth at New York, she accidently swamped a tugboat in her wake, killing one of its crew. Vaterland boasted everything a luxury craft of her day was expected to, from swimming pool to fancy barber, and was decorated in grand German style, up to and including a statue of the Kaiser.

With the outbreak of war in Europe America, determined to remain neutral, didn't want to let a German liner make the run back home, particularly with British warships guarding the oceans. A small cadre of British diplomats based in New York with an excellent view of the Hudson from the consul's office were watching the comings and goings, and those Germans brave enough to try to run were often caught thanks to their vigilance. 

Hamburg-America's Graccia was one of those who tried, in 1914, and the British snapped her up off the coast of Gibraltar. She was sent to Liverpool for refit, named the Pollockshields, and promptly hit a reef off Bermuda and sank on her first voyage, laden with munitions. Not willing to risk their pride and joy on a similar run, Hamburg-America ordered the Vaterland to remain in port, along with her crew.

The Vaterland appears in a scenario in my Dulce et Decorum Est Great War book, available through Pelgrane. That scenario's set in its New York period, when the marooned crew - unable to leave the ship for any reason - whiled away the carefree hours by holding after-dark parties. The band would play, beer would flow, and everyone had a good time raising money for the German war effort. 

This was all before the Lusitania was torpedoed, killing more than a thousand American civilians including women and children, after which American popular opinion turned against Germany. The Vaterland was effectively quarantined by US troops until America joined the War. Some of its crew tried to escape and go to Germany to fight, but most remained captive until the end.

When the United States entered World War I on 6 April 1917 one of the first things that happened was the blockading troops, who'd been sitting on the Vaterland's doorstep since the Lusitania sank, captured the German liner. 

All her German influences were stripped out. Her more luxurious scrap was sold at silly prices, right on New York's docks. By then she was a broken ship anyway; years of neglect sitting at anchor saw to that. She was refit, renamed the Leviathan, and went to war as a troop carrier. 

By now the Spanish Flu epidemic had taken hold of America, and the world. 

In the rush to get 9,000 soldiers to the Front the authorities had little time to worry about how many of those soldiers might be infected. Many were. About 700 fell ill within 24 hours of departure, and within a week over 2,000 were stricken. Many of them lay on the Leviathan's decks, gasping for air and spewing blood. 

Due to the U-Boat menace the Leviathan couldn't stop for funerals, and in any case there were too many of them - 91 in all. Over the side they went, a muttered prayer their only funeral. 

After the War the US Government found itself the proud possessor of a German white elephant. Leviathan was all but broken, a groaning old lady of the seas, and each of her captains complained she was too difficult to handle. At one point, in a relatively modest storm, she split, the bolts holding her plating together having sheared off. She was, with difficulty, repaired and made seaworthy again. It wouldn't matter. Her time had come and gone.

The era of grand cruise liners was fading, thanks to restrictions on immigration that cut demand for tickets. Her steerage section, meant for immigrants, became 'tourist class' - always assuming there were tourists willing to make the trip. At her best she shipped 1,300 passengers; her capacity was 3,000.

If that wasn't bad enough, Prohibition meant no booze aboard a US vessel, which put paid to the only other reason Americans went abroad - to drink. The Leviathan, once the largest and most luxurious ship afloat, spent the rest of its career a third-rate liner. 

Then came the Great Depression, which further cut into the luxury trade, and the Leviathan ran out of lives. The decision was eventually made to break her up for scrap and she was sent to Rosyth, Scotland in 1937.  It was a far more difficult passage than it needed to be, what with weather troubles, an angry crew demanding their wages and bust machinery. "She was a hoodoo ship, all right," her last captain wrote to a friend. "I was glad when we docked."

To ensure she didn't slip chain and drift in Rosyth's strong winter winds they flooded her No 1 hold, sinking her in the mud. As she was so massive, and as the outbreak of another world war diverted resources, she was left to rot until war's end. They finally destroyed Leviathan in 1946.

As a Chilling Locale, the Leviathan's practically a ghost ship from 1914 onwards. Captured before it had a career, soaked in the blood of American soldiers, half-empty on almost every run - all it wants are a few mysterious shadows and you're good to go.

Plus there are those moments in New York, and later in Rosyth, when the Leviathan's basically locked up tight for years. Particularly at Rosyth, less so in New York when at least there are people watching her and some crew still aboard. Haunted. Disgraced. In Limbo. 

Rosyth, for those interested, is a small town in Scotland best known for its dockyard, which would have been a Royal Naval Dockyard when the Leviathan arrived. The Dockyard, built for battleships, was brand new when World War One broke out, but closed in 1925. It reopened in the late 1930s when relations with Germany began to deteriorate - about the same time Leviathan arrived for its slaughter. During World War 2 it was a refit station, repairing and rearming over 3,000 warships. Imagine bringing your destroyer into port and berthing it next to Leviathan's rotting corpse.

So let's have some story seeds:

Missing Crewman: One of the Vaterland's crew is supposed to have accidentally murdered himself while attempting to sabotage the ship, when she was docked at New York. After her refit, the Leviathan crew tell tales of the 'extra hand' - someone who's only ever seen when trouble's about to start. He's dressed in Vaterland's uniform, but those who see him say he doesn't have a face. When one of the player characters sees him, what kind of disaster does this presage?

Hoodoo Ship: Is this old liner trying to kill itself? There's those who say they can hear the ship muttering after dark, planning its self-destruction in some terrible act of immolation - but will it be satisfied killing only itself, or does it plan on taking other ships with her when she goes?

Rosyth Haunts: Dock workers at the port are going to go on strike unless something's done about the Leviathan. Strange noises are heard and there are lights after dark, the sound of music and laughter. It's all nonsense of course, but the commander in charge of the docks decides to send a search party aboard. Maybe deserters are hiding in there. Maybe something else ... 

The Clippie (Bookhounds of London)

A short while ago I answered a question about Dulce et Decorum, and it reminded me of Kate Adie's excellent book Fighting on the Home Front. This week's post is based on something borrowed from that book.

At the outbreak of the war as men marched off to fight, the unexpected resource drain pushed women to unexpected workplace gains. Particularly in the early years when entire unions, streets and schools volunteered in a body, industries and schools discovered they had neither workers nor students. Though initially resistant many professions recruited women to replace the absent men, in all sorts of roles - including tram drivers.

You wouldn't know it by looking today, but in 1914 electric trams were the preeminent form of public transport in London. In fact, London led Europe in tram use and the system was ever-expanding, but the War delayed things substantially and it would soon be obvious trams were on the way out. The car and truck would eventually take over where trams left off, but that wouldn't happen until the 1930s when cars were more affordable, and available. In 1914 the tram was still vital, and the tram lines desperately needed conductors and drivers.

Trams were more glamorous than omnibuses, writes Adie, cleaner and quieter, and they soon were used in numerous cities as part of the recruitment campaign. Rochdale trams bore posters asking 'Are you fighting for Rule Britannia - or only singing?' Southampton and Leeds went one better and dressed their vehicles overall with coloured lightbulbs. They looked magnificent, clanging over the rails with 'God Save the King' illuminated in huge letters ... 

The women driving and collecting tickets on these trams garnered many nicknames. To some they were conductorettes, to others clippies or lady conductors. They did the same jobs as men and took the same risks; in 1916, during a zeppelin raid, conductor Sally Holmes was blasted clear out of her tram and was lucky to escape with a badly injured leg.

All of which brings me to:

The Clippie

If she has a name, your Bookhounds don't know it. She only answers to Clippie. She walks with a noticeable limp, but that doesn't stop her covering her beat; she's a well-known book scout whose specialty is Oxford, particularly the colleges. Nobody knows why, but if you want to know which don's library is about to be sold or what some academic literary lion is looking for this month, ask Clippie. She knows.

Bookhounds who do a little digging (Oral History, possibly Library Use) discover that before the War she worked as a tweeny at one of the Oxford colleges, following in the footsteps of her older sisters. She started when she was 12 and stayed till she was 16.  That's why she knows Oxford so well; she was born there, and several of her relatives still live and work there.

Shortly after the War started she moved to London and worked for a time for the London, Deptford and Greenwich Tramways Company as a conductress. She loved the job and the life, and was a fixture of her route. Everybody knew the Clippie. She worked the trams until 1917, when her career was abruptly cut short.

On the evening of 12 September Clippie's tram was on it way back to the depot when a Gotha raid bombed London, killing 30 and injuring 64. Clippie was blown clear out of her tram, the only survivor; everyone else on board were killed. From that day to this she refuses to get on board a tram, or go anywhere near electrical devices. She was temporarily homeless until taking up life as a book scout; these days she lives by candlelight aboard a barge in Greenwich.

Funny thing about that barge; it's covered in electrical diagrams and books of all kinds about electrical machinery. Clippie spends every waking hour studying them, when she's not earning a crust. She never says why.

Possibilities:

• Clippie's a megapolisomancer who just wants to get control of her life again. She knows there's something out there stalking the tramlines, something fierce, vital and lethal. She's looking for a way to bring this paramental entity under control, but she hasn't given any thought to what will happen when she does it. Once she has a killing creature as her personal emissary, what will Clippie do? Or is Clippie's obsession the reason this thing exists at all? 
• Clippie shares her head with four ghosts: the conductor and passengers of Tram #38, who have an elastic approach to time. Sometimes they recognize the passing of the years, and sometimes it's still 12 September, 1917. Clippie's secret is not well-kept, and several occult groups and societies have tried to use her as a window to the afterlife, a medium with a hole in her mind, capable of being filled by almost anything. She always refuses to perform in any room fitted with electric light or electric devices of any kind. One would-be student of the occult (a Bookhound, perhaps?) decides to challenge the norm and tricks Clippie into performing in a room with electric fittings, which proves a real problem when the final, unexpected ghost appears - Tram #38 itself, an entity with (among other things) Scuffling 16 and +1 Damage (electric shock). 
• Clippie's a go-between for Yithian outposts in London and Oxford. There was a time when Clippie herself was a Yithian agent, but the 12 September bombing put paid to that. However she remains loyal to the cause and now knows as much as anyone about Yithian activity in London and Oxford. Her obsession with electrical equipment has to do with her deep desire to recreate the devices she half-remembers from her time as a Yithian. She thinks she might just be able to translocate herself from the London she hates to the far-off Other she loves. When not running errands for her masters and buying books to keep a roof over her head she experiments with strange devices, out on the river where there are few witnesses.

Enjoy!

Battlefield 1 Reveal Trailer - Historical Jibber Jabber

It's rare I have something drop in from the mystic land of videogames that's so firmly in my wheelhouse as Battlefield 1, the latest iteration in the warfare FPS franchise from Electronic Arts. As I'm busy working on an Esoterror project - more later - I thought I'd use the trailer as a mental cleanser, popping in from time to time to give my thoughts on it when I want a break from the project.

Little is known about the game itself. It's set in the Great War. It's already been revealed that the Harlem Hellfighters, the black American (or perhaps that ought to be French, since the Americans wouldn't let them fight under the Stars and Stripes) regiment, will be a significant part of the game. Allegedly you'll be able to pilot tanks, planes and battleships as well as engage in ground combat. Not entirely sure why, since naval warfare really wasn't a thing in the Great War; everyone stayed home after Jutland. It might have been more interesting to give the players submarines. But what the hell.

With that in mind, the trailer:

First thought: the music's OK, but I would have preferred at least a nod to the tunes of the time rather than leap in with White Stripes. Eh, whatever.

0.08: trench warfare. Looking accurate so far.

0.09-11: desert warfare. Cool, the game's looking beyond the usual Trench Warfare stuff. Apparently that's a woman riding at the charge. Fair do. Not sure about the henna face tattoo; I thought that mehndi was more of a festivals/weddings tradition, than a 'let's stab people up and look good doing it' thing. Also, face tattoo? Is that what traditional mehndi's for?

0.14-0.17: back to the trenches again. Not sure when this is. I'm going to cross my fingers and say  1917-18. It's remarkable that everyone's striding around upright given the snipers, shrapnel and machine gun nests everywhere.

0.18-0.21: only one flyer used an all-red crate, and he didn't crash into what looks like a desert outcropping. Also, triplanes in the desert, what the hell. There was air warfare in the desert, but they used clapped-out hand-me-downs from the Western Front, not the latest and most modern kit. Plus I'm getting muddy about the timeline. If that's a tripe then this is probably 1917. So what's that remarkably intact building doing there? Why does everything look comparatively nice and not bombed to hell and gone?

0.25: Tanks? In the desert? Bullshit. Plus, if those are tanks, then this is 1918. They're working remarkably well, under the circumstances. The early tanks didn't like mud; God knows what those delicate little darlings would have made of sand, sand, sand as far as the eye can see. It's bad enough trying mechanized warfare in the desert in the present day. Those things would have gone two foot, coughed, and died.

0.034: I have absolutely no idea where we are. Italy? Maybe? It's the only explanation for why everything looks so green and verdant.

0.36: onwards, yeah, forget it. Not a clue. Most of it's trench warfare, some of it's sea warfare - again, that all came to a halt after Jutland - a chunk of it's air warfare, and I couldn't begin to tell when or where this is meant to be. Except there are tanks. So presumably 1918, Western Front. Except those are British tanks attacking what seems to be a British, or possibly American, position. Well done, lads. Medals for everyone. Historical note: the Germans did have tanks, but they never really got the chance to use them, except for one inconclusive little scrap in April 1918.

0.54-56: A zeppelin? What on earth for? Those things were a joke by 1918. You might as well send in Charlie Chaplin.

1.01: well, it's all over now, and I don't have to listen to that Godawful music. Thank Christ.

Impressions: it's traditional at this point to scream 'no gameplay' at the top of your voice, but in this case I think the criticism isn't as on-point as it could be. This is EA, after all, and Battlefield is one of its showcase warfare FPS titles. Unless someone screws up dramatically the gameplay will be solid but uninspired, because it is always solid but uninspired. Equally if there was anything really interesting it would be in the trailer, and it isn't. So nothing to look forward to, or to worry about.

It's just cinema, and not even very interesting cinema. It's unusual to see a Great War themed game, but there have been a few of those recently - Valiant Hearts, for instance - so it's not a complete shocker. I predict a bland and uninspiring single player experience tacked onto what is probably intended to be a multiplayer extravaganza that will last until the servers go dark. So maybe two years.

It's odd. There's been a bunch of multiplayer titles recently - Destiny, the Division, whatever that bloody silly mecha titans game was a year or two back - and all of them seem to be aiming for roughly the same market. Presumably someone out there is praying for a Team Fortress 2 success-level title, rather than the withered fruit that drops off the twig these days. But these things cost a fortune and if they're all leeching from the same customer base I don't know how the hell they're meant to make a profit.

Mind you, these are all made by the same small handful of AAA developers, and that might be the point. As the audience for Titanfall dwindles repurpose the servers for whatever Battlefield title is coming up the pipe, and that way you seldom have to worry about underutilized assets.  

Final verdict: historically wobbly justification for what's very likely to be Just Another Shooter. Collector's Edition pre-order at $220-odd (Jesus Wept), but that includes the statue and other gimmicks which nobody in their right mind needs, and you know in your heart that any DLC in the pre-order will eventually be released for everyone to buy sometime after launch. I note that the Desert War and Red Baron packs seem to be separate assets, so presumably if you just buy the core game you only play in the trenches.

Incidentally what the hell is it with pre-order rubbish? I liked feelies back in the day; the cloth map you got with Ultima III Exodus was part of the fun, and had in-game relevance. But the monkeys have taken over the zoo. Who needs yet another dust-bunny up on the mantelpiece, gawping down at the living room like a senile relative at a bar mitzvah? Just how stupid is the average consumer, anyway?

Don't answer that.

Knights of the Air: Trail and the Great War

If you're looking for a video series to absorb hours of your time, I highly recommend The Great War, a YouTube channel that focuses on the events and personalities of that world-shattering conflict. The production team has chosen to focus on some of the undeservedly obscure elements of the war, like South Africa's role in the conflict, which makes it invaluable for Keepers wanting to set a scenario somewhere unusual.

All of which brings me back to Dulce et Decorum Est, and the air war. I've talked previously about mixing game types, linking several different Trail concepts in a single, overarching narrative. This time let's consider what it would mean to mix the air war rules found in Flying Coffins as well as Dulce, and the survival rules found in Mythos Expeditions.

The Middle Eastern theatre of operations is one of the least studied, unless you happen to be a fan of Lawrence of Arabia. However from an air war perspective it is very interesting. Germany began sending the Turks aircraft very early on, and by the end the Turks had the benefit of some of Germany's best fighter designs, such as the Albatros and Halberstadt. Even as the original Eindecker was making mincemeat of allied aircraft over the Western Front, the Germans were sending its latest designs to the Ottomans. They were opposed by the British and Australians, operating out of Egypt as part of the Expeditionary Force. From a Keeper's point of view, possibly the best time to stage a scenario in this conflict is early 1917, as Allenby is forming the Palestinian Brigade in a desperate attempt to stave off air defeat by a superior German-backed air force.

The Arab Revolt is already well under way at this point, Lawrence is busy blowing up train tracks, and the Ottomans are beginning to feel the pressure. The British are poised to take the Sinai Peninsula, and are looking hungrily at Rafa, an important military stronghold. Number 1 Squadron AFC is moved closer to the scene of the action to support ground assaults. The protagonists, it can be assumed, are part of Number 1 Squadron. They need to be able to establish and hold air superiority, which is going to be next to impossible since the Germans have very strong air combat capability. During the battle, German air raids are going to be a very difficult challenge for the allied attackers.

The Keeper might consider a few prelude scenes before the main action, perhaps set in Cairo, as these dashing young pilots arrive in the Middle East and begin training. Here they learn about Mordiggian for the first time, and discover that there is a small group of quasi-cultists within the Palestinian Brigade, blessing bullets, as they have been taught to do by home-grown Mordiggian cultists, possibly even agents of the Brotherhood of the Black Pharaoh. These bullets require blood sacrifice to make, but if they are used against the enemy then their effectiveness is greatly increased. The protagonists may be intrigued by this, and even be tempted to use them, so long as the blood sacrifice is limited; goats, say, or other small animals. Of course, the most effective bullets require human sacrifice ...

Then battle begins, and the pilots are tested, perhaps even found wanting. German air operations are taking their toll, and allied command  is not happy at the losses suffered as a result of successful German bombardment. A big push is on to take Rafa; the protagonists had better up their game. At this point the Keeper ought to throw in several fierce air engagements near the scene of the battle, as troops begin to deploy. Personalize these defending German aircraft; perhaps one or two of them become nemeses for the attacking Australian pilots.

Close this scene with a demand from the cultists: perform a blood sacrifice, and all will be well; we can ensure you defeat your enemies. But if you don't, our curse be upon you! A personal appearance from an avatar of Mordiggian, or a particularly dangerous creature, would be very useful at this point. This is the entity that has to be fed. The protagonists don't have to find their own victims. The cult is happy to provide the sacrifices, but it has to be the protagonists who decide whether or not to carry out the ritual.

Then they take to the air, fighting over Rafa. If they chose to carry out the ritual, then they enjoy tremendous success, as their new bullets seemingly cannot miss, and do great damage. Perhaps those German nemeses go down in flames very quickly, now that the protagonists have access to these magic bullets. If they didn't, then the German forces are all but overwhelming. Attack after attack leaves the Australian planes in shreds, low on ammo, smoking and about to crash.

The scene should end with the aircraft forced down. If they didn't carry out the ritual then this shouldn't be difficult to arrange. If they did, then the pilots are horrified to discover that their own aircraft are turning against them, becoming monstrous things, demanding blood. If the protagonists don't immediately land and abandon ship, then these vampiric entities will drain them dry. This is definitely worth a Stability check.

Now the pilots are on the ground in Palestine, somewhere near the fighting. They don't have psychic powers, so there's no way to know who's in control of Rafa; they need to get somewhere safe, and eventually back to their squadron. They also need to avoid Ottoman patrols.

This is where the Survival Pool needs to be established, and I would base it on the number of pilots, on the assumption of 2 points per pilot, representing any charts, navigation equipment, and water that they may possess. Naturally they ought to destroy anything that the enemy might find useful, like documents which show current Allied positions, but since those are also the charts that they might be using to find their way back, they may be reluctant to do this. If they do, then feel free to reduce Survival by 2. The area around Rafa is best described as hot semi-arid, which means Survival tests are either Hostile (in the area immediately around Rafa) or Very Hostile (everywhere else).

Now the pilots have to make their way back. Possible challenges include desert Arabs (are they on our side, or in the pay of the Ottomans?), attacking enemy aircraft, dust storms, leaking water bottles, and mine fields. If the Keeper feels that the protagonists might be about to snuff it, perhaps those Arabs turn out to be friendly, or perhaps the protagonists find an unexpected source of water; say, from dead soldiers' canteens, which would mean a Stability test.

On their way they spot a landmark that isn't on the map. It is an abandoned fort, possibly dating all the way back to the crusaders. Nobody would establish a fort without ensuring it had a water supply, would they?

Here is where they have their final encounter with the forces of Mordiggian. Of course the fort isn't truly abandoned; this is one of the Old One's fanes, where it is worshiped in nightmarish, bloody ritual. Did the protagonists make sacrifice and get those magic bullets? Then they are welcomed with open arms, and the scenario may end with them descending into madness as they embrace the blood rites, and become one with Mordiggian's worshipers. If they did not, or if they choose to avoid the fort altogether, then they are pursued across the desert by the creatures that live within, and spend the final scenes of the scenario on a knife edge, low on Survival, throats dry, water out, no way of knowing how far away safety is, and pursued relentlessly by things they cannot, dare not, comprehend.

That's it for now! Enjoy. 

Trail of Cthulhu: Soldiers of Pen and Ink

As Simon Rogers over at Pelgrane has been kind enough to Tweet about the cover art, I thought I'd take this opportunity to talk a little about an upcoming project: Soldiers of Pen and Ink, a mammoth Trail of Cthulhu scenario set during the Spanish Civil War. Let me give you the official precis:


The protagonists, sponsored by the Paris-based political organisation BNVS, have come to Spain to shoot a documentary on the war, and find themselves marooned in Madrid. One of their team goes missing, and their literary colleagues say it’s pointless – even dangerous – to ask what happened to him. In a war of competing ideologies, unorthodoxy can merit the death penalty, but is this Communist oppression or something more sinister?

The thing's huge - more than 43,000 words - and includes, among other things, four new character archetypes: the Extremist, Volunteer, Black Marketeer and Spy. For those of you who picked up Dulce et Decorum Est and liked the lists of tanks and aircraft, there's new stats here for even more military equipment. There's also a new Ability, Politics, and a new take on Hastur the Unspeakable and his terrifying Byakhee: The Hastur Mneme.

I really don't want to give away any plot details here, but I will say this: I loved writing it, am thrilled to see it come to completion at long last, and hope you enjoy playing it as much as I did writing it!

It is the duty of every citizen to defend Carcosa to the last drop of his blood!

Dulce et Decorum Est Trail of Cthulhu Great War

I'm overjoyed to report that my Great War collection, Dulce et Decorum Est, is finally out in .pdf!

http://pelgranepress...1#comment-73782

To forestall the obvious question: Not So Quiet and Flying Coffins are not in this collection, as those two scenarios have already been published twice: once as .pdf, and again in one or other of the Out Of Space/Time collections. However this one does include Dead Horse Corner (terror in the trenches) and Vaterland, set aboard the rotting hulk of Germany's finest ocean liner.  This collection also includes extended rules sections for air, land and naval warfare - new planes, tanks, armored cars and more - as well as a section devoted to campaign ideas and settings. You've got all kinds of new antagonists to worry about, from the Order of the White Feather in England to tainted and terrible hyenas waiting out in the desolate wastelands of Palestine. Incidentally, for those of you wondering whatever happened to Agathe von Plon of Flying Coffins fame, you can find out in Vaterland ...

I'm pleased and proud to see this in print at last! I hope everyone who purchases a copy enjoys it.

To give you a brief taste, let me show you an extract from one of the cultist sections, Mata Malam:

When the Dutch spy Margaretha Geertruida Zelle – aka Mata Hari, Indonesian for Eye of the Day – was executed in October 1917, few mourned her. Many of her former paramours were secretly relieved to see her gone, but there was at least one who wept for her unreservedly, and that one determined to get her back, by any means necessary.

Doctor-turned-cultist Victor Berthelot’s descent into madness began – though he could not have realized it at the time – when he went to see a show at the Olympia, in 1905. He was just a student then, but he was smitten by the danseuse’s charms, and – along with many other would-be suitors – bombarded her each night with flowers and presents. At least, such presents as he could afford, and when his family discovered how he was spending his allowance, they threatened to cut him off. Chastened, he returned to his studies, while his beloved – who had no idea Berthelot even existed – went on to fame, fortune, and life as a courtesan to wealthy men ...