Fireworks, a curate — Lady Meux’s cruel fun

Entertainments at Lady Valerie Meux’s home were never ordinary.  

At Theobald’s Park in Waltham Cross, her amusements were often strange, theatrical — and sometimes disturbingly cruel.

Portrait artist Leslie Ward, known in Vanity Fair as “Spy” and “Drawl”, witnessed one such spectacle.

A curate whose living depended on the Meux estate was persuaded — “cruelly”, Ward said — to allow himself to be turned into a human firework display.

Wrapped head‑to‑foot in a tarpaulin, he was covered with crackers, squibs, and a large Catherine Wheel fixed proudly at the centre. When the fireworks were lit, he jerked and jumped as each explosive flared and burst around him.

Leslie Ward - later Sir Leslie - recounts this story in his book, Forty years of ‘Spy’, Chatto & Windus, London, 1915. And yes, of course, this image is produced by AI.

Ward noted that the poor man “took his torture very philosophically”. Valerie’s guests were so delighted by his courage that they immediately invited him for a drink.

Lady Meux’s world was one of spectacle, danger, and strange rewards — a Victorian stage where few escaped without a story.