The Problem of 'Edwin Drood' Part 16

answered Mr. Crisparkle stoutly. In his proof d.i.c.kens struck out the words, 'as she is a truly brave woman.'

It is impossible, I think, to read this and not to see that d.i.c.kens is afraid that we may too soon suspect Helena Landless of being Datchery.

Neville's sufferings under the suspicion are unmistakable and cruel.

When Crisparkle saw him he wished that his eyes were not quite so large and quite so bright. 'I want more sun to shine upon you.' Neville tells him that he feels marked and tainted even when he goes out at night, and he never goes out in the day. He says, though d.i.c.kens did not mean us to read the sentence: 'It seems a little hard to be so tied to a stake, and innocent; but I don't complain.'

Such are the main reasons that induce me to believe that Helena is Datchery. It is admitted on all hands that she was meant to play an important part in the story. What part does she play if she is not Datchery?

DATCHERY'S WISTFUL GAZE

But the proof that impresses me as much as any other is to be found in the pa.s.sage: 'John Jasper's lamp is kindled and his lighthouse is shining when Mr. Datchery returns alone towards it. As mariners on a dangerous voyage, approaching an iron-bound coast, may look along the beams of the warning light to the haven lying beyond it that may never be reached, so Mr. Datchery's wistful gaze is directed to this beacon and beyond.' The detective of whom this is written cannot possibly be a mere detective.

His heart is engaged in the search. This fits Helena, and Helena only, of all the characters that have been brought forward. A professional detective paid by Grewgious could never have behaved in that way.

Helena's whole heart was in the business. She had to relieve her fondly-loved brother from a cruel weight of anxiety and suspicion. She had to bring a villain whose baseness she thoroughly knew to justice.

She had to liberate the girl friend she loved from persecution, and she looked to a beyond, to the haven-the haven of Crisparkle's love.

DATCHERY'S WIG

Datchery wears a wig, and it is unusually large, as though a woman's hair were concealed under it. As Mr. c.u.ming Walters also points out, Helena undoubtedly had a strong motive for not sacrificing her hair to the disguise, for she was unmistakably in love with Crisparkle.

DATCHERY'S HANDS

There is no doubt that if Datchery was Helena, one of her chief difficulties must have been with her hands.

Miss Stirling Graeme, the author of _Mystifications_, had a marvellous power of disguising herself. 'There was nothing extraordinary about her,' says Dr. John Brown, 'but let her put on the old lady; it was as if a warlock spell had pa.s.sed over her; not merely her look, but her nature was changed: her spirit had pa.s.sed into the character she represented; and jest, quick retort, whimsical fancy, the wildest nonsense flowed from her lips, with a freedom and truth to nature which appeared to be impossible in her own personality.'

Sir Walter Scott in his _Journal_ for 7th March 1828 tells us that when she returned to her party in the character of an old Scottish lady she deceived every one. 'The prosing account she gave of her son, the antiquary, who found an auld wig in a slate quarry, was extremely ludicrous, and she puzzled the Professor of Agriculture with a merciless account of the succession of crops in the parks around her old mansion-house. No person to whom the secret was not entrusted had the least guess of an impostor, _except one shrewd young lady present_, _who observed the hand narrowly_, _and saw it was plumper than the age of the lady seemed to warrant_.'

In the _Daily Mail_ of 4th April 1912 there is an account of two girls who lived together, pa.s.sing as husband and wife. The man with whom they lodged said: 'The husband's hands were so small and soft that both my wife and myself were suspicious.'

I ask the attention of readers to the manner in which d.i.c.kens refers to Datchery's hands. I do not lay too much stress on these indications, but they deserve consideration.

1. We read in chapter xviii. about Datchery in the coffee-room of the Crozier, 'as he stood with his back to the empty fireplace waiting for his fried sole, veal cutlet, and pint of sherry.' ('Empty' was an afterthought on d.i.c.kens's part.) Here we have Datchery keeping his hands out of view.

2. A little after, Datchery asks the waiter to take his hat down for a moment from the peg. If he had stretched out his own hand it might have been noticed.

3. Later in the same chapter, when Datchery meets Jasper and the Mayor, he does not shake hands with them. '"I beg pardon," said Mr. Datchery, making a leg with his hat under his arm.' Originally this was written 'hat in hand.' If he carried his hat under his arm, one hand would be buried in the hat.

4. Afterwards we read of Datchery following Jasper and the Mayor, 'with his hat under his arm, and his shock of white hair streaming in the evening breeze.'

5. When Datchery is talking to the opium woman, 'he lounges along, like the chartered bore of the city, with his uncovered grey hair blowing about, and his purposeless hands rattling the loose money in the pockets of his trousers.' His hands are thus out of sight. Immediately after we find him 'still rattling his loose money,' and again, 'still rattling.'

6. At last he begins to count out the sum demanded of him by the opium woman. 'Greedily watching his hands, she continues to hold forth on the great example set him.' Of course, she may merely be watching for the money in his hands, but there may be something more in it than this. Let it be noted that d.i.c.kens originally wrote, 'Greedily watching him,' and inserted 'his hands' later.

7. Immediately after 'Mr. Datchery drops some money, stoops to pick it up.' In all the scene with the opium woman he keeps his hands out of sight as much as possible, and when he does show them they strike the old woman.

I may add, though much has been said about the possibility of detecting by means of the voice, this does not appear by any means to be impossible, or even very difficult. Only one meeting between Jasper and Helena is recorded. Her voice is described as low and rich. Even if he had talked with Datchery, it is more than doubtful whether he would have known the voice again, music-master though he was. Datchery, if our supposition is right, was an expert in disguise, and could have carried it off. I find in the pleasant _Recollections and Impressions_ of Mrs.

Sellar that she had no difficulty in deceiving her nearest friends. She tells us how one day, when Sir David and Lady Brewster were dining with the Sellars at St. Andrews, after dinner Lady Brewster begged her to dress up and take in Sir David:

'"But what will account for my absence?"

'"Oh, you have been obliged to go to bed with one of your headaches; and I'll introduce the stranger."

'So I went upstairs, put on a false front, and was announced as Miss Craig. On the gentlemen coming in I was specially introduced to Sir David, but not being at all attractive-looking, he soon left me for younger and fairer friends! Determined he should take some notice of me, I said I would not play the piano unless Sir David asked me; and on this being told him he muttered: "G.o.d bless the woman! what does she mean! I don't know her."' {163}

Mr. Lang says: 'A young lady of my acquaintance successfully pa.s.sed herself off on her betrothed as her own cousin-also a young lady-and d.i.c.kens had not to imagine anything so unlikely as that.'

To this I may add that Scott tells a story of Garrick and his wife. Mrs.

Garrick was an accomplished actress, but once she witnessed an entertainment in which was introduced a farmer giving his neighbours an account of the wonders seen on a visit to London. The character was received with such peals of applause that Mrs. Garrick began to think it rivalled those which had been so lately lavished on Richard the Third.

At last she observed her little spaniel dog was making efforts to get towards the balcony which separated him from the facetious farmer. Then she became aware of the truth. 'How strange,' she said, 'that a dog should know his master, and a woman, in the same circ.u.mstances, should not recognise her husband!' {164a}

THE ORIGIN OF d.i.c.kENS'S IDEA

So strong is the evidence for Helena Landless being Datchery that even the chief advocates of the Proctor theory have fully admitted its force.

Dr. M. R. James says: 'I will go as far as this: if Edwin is dead, then Datchery is Helena.' {164b} Mr. Andrew Lang over and over again admitted that Datchery might be Helena. But he contended that, if so, the idea of d.i.c.kens is improbable with the worst sort of improbability, is terribly far-fetched, and fails to interest. 'It is the idea of a bad sixpenny novel. We are asked to credit d.i.c.kens with the highest scientific skill, and this egregious invention is the result of his science. The idea would have been rejected by Mr. Guy Boothby. But it does not follow that Mr. Walters has not hit on d.i.c.kens's idea. If he has, _Edwin Drood_ is far below _Count Robert of Paris_ in its first uncorrected state, as the public will never know it.'

There is something in this argument, and it has never yet been fairly met, but I believe that I can show that the idea was probably suggested to d.i.c.kens by one figure in real life, and another figure in fiction. So far as I am aware these suggestions are made for the first time.

In the _Bancroft Recollections_, Lady Bancroft writes on page 31:

My first part at the Strand Theatre was Pippo, in his burlesque _The Maid and the Magpie_, which proved an immense success, and I established myself as a leading favourite. It was not until the _Life of Charles d.i.c.kens_ was published that I knew his opinion of this performance. d.i.c.kens had written years before, in a letter to John Forster, these words:

'I went to the Strand Theatre, having taken a stall beforehand, for it is always crammed. I really wish you would go to see _The Maid and the Magpie_ burlesque there. There is the strangest thing in it that ever I have seen on the stage-the boy Pippo, by Miss Wilton.

While it is astonishingly impudent (must be, or it couldn't be done at all), it is so stupendously like a boy, and unlike a woman, that it is perfectly free from offence. I never have seen such a thing.

She does an imitation of the dancing of the Christy Minstrels-wonderfully clever-which, in the audacity of its thorough-going, is surprising. A thing that you _cannot_ imagine a woman's doing at all; and yet the manner, the appearance, the levity, impulse, and spirits of it are so exactly like a boy, that you cannot think of anything like her s.e.x in a.s.sociation with it. I never have seen such a curious thing, and the girl's talent is unchallengeable.

I call her the cleverest girl I have ever seen on the stage in my time, and the most singularly original.'

Lady Bancroft adds: 'Charles d.i.c.kens's being impressed with my likeness to a boy reminds me that on the first night I acted in _The Middy Ash.o.r.e_, one of the staff came up to me at the wings and said: "Beg pardon, young sir, you must go back to your seat; no strangers are allowed behind the scenes."' From this it must be inferred that d.i.c.kens had there that evening a new idea as to the possibilities of disguise.

d.i.c.kens's letter was written in 1859.

I believe that d.i.c.kens in this Datchery a.s.sumption was mainly influenced by Wilkie Collins. Most writers on d.i.c.kens have observed his admiration for Collins, the way in which he co-operated with him, and the high value he placed on his work. _The Moonstone_ has been referred to in this connection, but I venture to think that the novel which led d.i.c.kens to his idea was _No Name_. I have already printed (page 91) d.i.c.kens's wildly enthusiastic testimony to its merits. He placed it far above _The Woman in White_, and far above _The Moonstone_. In particular, he admired the character of Magdalen Vanstone.

In _No Name_ we are introduced to a charming family-husband, wife, and two daughters-the Vanstones. Then it turns out that the parents are unmarried. The husband made a great mistake in marrying a bad woman in his early youth, and is nearly ruined in consequence. He induces a good woman to live with him as his wife, and he has a fortune of 80,000. By a singular mischance both he and the mother die suddenly about the same time. Vanstone had made a will leaving his property to the daughters, but just before the death of his wife he discovers that his real wife is dead, and so they go out and get married. The law is that marriage abolishes all past wills. The consequence is that the will is not effective, and the two daughters are left without a penny, and without a name. What are the girls to do? The younger, Magdalen, has great force of character, and shows a talent for the stage. She resolves to revenge herself on her father's brother who has taken all the money. Instead of going to work as an ordinary actress, she gives performances of her own.

She is very clever at acting different parts. She disguises herself as an old woman, and in all sorts of disguises. She is nineteen, almost the age of Helena Landless. Here is a description of the way in which she disguises herself:

I found all the dresses in the box complete-with one remarkable exception. That exception was the dress of the old north-country lady; the character which I have already mentioned as the best of all my pupil's disguises, and as modelled in voice and manner on her old governess, Miss Garth. The wig; the eyebrows; the bonnet and veil; the cloak, padded inside to disfigure her back and shoulders; the paints and cosmetics used to age her face and alter her complexion-were all gone. Nothing but the gown remained; a gaudily flowered silk, useful enough for dramatic purposes, but too extravagant in colour and pattern to bear inspection by daylight.

The other parts of the dress are sufficiently quiet to pa.s.s muster; the bonnet and veil are only old-fashioned, and the cloak is of a sober grey colour. But one plain inference can be drawn from such a discovery as this. As certainly as I sit here, she is going to open the campaign against Noel Vanstone and Mrs. Lecount, in a character which neither of those two persons can have any possible reason for suspecting at the outset-the character of Miss Garth.

What course am I to take under these circ.u.mstances? Having got her secret, what am I to do with it? These are awkward considerations; I am rather puzzled how to deal with them.

It is something more than the mere fact of her choosing to disguise herself to forward her own private ends that causes my present perplexity. Hundreds of girls take fancies for disguising themselves; and hundreds of instances of it are related year after year, in the public journals. But my ex-pupil is not to be confounded, for one moment, with the average adventuress of the newspapers. She is capable of going a long way beyond the limit of _dressing herself like a man_, _and imitating a man's voice and manner_. She has a natural gift for a.s.suming characters, which I have never seen equalled by a woman; and she has performed in public until she has felt her own power, and trained her talent for disguising herself to the highest pitch. A girl who takes the sharpest people unawares by using such a capacity as this to help her own objects in private life; and who sharpens that capacity by a determination to fight her way to her own purpose which has beaten down everything before it, up to this time-is a girl who tries an experiment in deception, new enough and dangerous enough to lead one way or the other, to very serious results. This is my conviction founded on a large experience in the art of imposing on my fellow-creatures. I say of my fair relative's enterprise what I never said or thought of it till I introduced myself to the inside of her box. The chances for and against her winning the fight for her lost fortune are now so evenly balanced that I cannot for the life of me see on which side the scale inclines. All I can discern is, that it will, to a dead certainty, turn one way or the other on the day when she pa.s.ses Noel Vanstone's doors in disguise.