The following is a Gaslight etext.... |
A message to you about copyright and permissions |
|
THE "authentic" solution
of the Drood problem having thus proceeded in 1873 from the
United States, there could be no possible reason why America
should attempt to "go one better" in any spirit of
patriotic rivalry. Accordingly, it need-not surprise us to find
that, henceforward, the mania for constructing sequels to
Dickens's work was permitted to die out of the New World.
But Great Britain, hitherto silent--save in
protest or commentary--becoming, evidently, too sceptical of the
Brattleborough Spirit's claims to accept the situation, began in
course of time to publish guesses at the secret on her own
account; and, to her credit be it said, these efforts assumed in
the main the reverent attitude of the analyst rather than the
presumptuous arrogance of the "continuator."
It was not, however, until the year 1878 that the
new era actually commenced, though probably long before that date
the midnight oil of preparation was burning. In the early autumn
of the year named there appeared a three-volume conclusion
entitled A Great Mystery Solved, written, under the
curious pen-name of "Gillan Vase," by a lady of some
literary reputation in the North of England. This pretentious
work was, the preface informs us, the outcome of a desire to see
the broken threads of the fragment gathered up and the story
woven to its end. The authoress--ignorant of or ignoring the
glorious productions of her literary cousins across the
water--grew weary of waiting for a continuation, and at length
began to solve the Mystery for herself; at first merely for her
own amusement and the gratification of a few kindly interested
friends, but afterwards in obedience to the dictates of a growing
ambition. Indeed, she found, to her consternation, that she had
"idly entered upon a road from which there is no turning
back."
"Gillan Vase" launched her book in fear
and trembling, expecting her "audacious venture" to be
punished, "either by having to run the gauntlet of sharpest
criticism, or--a thousand times worse--being passed over in
contemptuous silence." Fortunately, the milder fate befell
the work; but it must be confessed that the criticism of the
reviewer who noticed it in the columns of The
Examiner on October 5th, 1878, was sharp indeed.
"The head and front of 'Gillan Vase's'
offending," said this remorseless penman, who might have
mixed less vinegar with his ink had he guessed the sex of his
victim, "is not that he has attempted to continue Dickens to
the best of his ability and has failed, but that he has, with a
great deal of perverted ingenuity, set seriously to work to mimic
Dickens, and in a lamentable way may be said to have succeeded.
It is the reverse of the old fairy tale when straw was spun into
gold. Mr. Vase has, indeed, gathered up the broken threads of the
story, but these threads of pure gold have magically and
imperceptibly become transformed by his touch into common straw;
and the worst of the matter is that it is extremely difficult to
realize afterwards that they ever were threads of gold."
No student of Dickens will be disposed to disagree
with this judgment, nor with the rest of the review, which is
sufficiently lengthy to have afforded Gillan Vase a gloomy kind
of consolation; but we may perhaps be forgiven for assuming that
the critic, if he had been doomed to plough through the earlier
solutions, would have welcomed "A Great Mystery
Solved"--which he prefers to call "A Great Work
Spoiled"--with open arms and a thankful heart.
Gillan Vase has, in fact, produced immeasurably
the best of the story continuations--whatever that commendation
may be worth--and has at least given us an Edwin Drood free from
that unholy thirst for vengeance which, despite the assertions of
her predecessors, cannot be fitted anyhow into the nature of our
cherished author.
The ingenuity of the work is not confined to its
mimicry. There is something startling in the suggestion that the
heap of lime in the mason's yard was destined to receive the body
of the defunct Mrs. Sapsea, in order that room might be provided
in the vault for Edwin without exciting the suspicions of
stone-tapping Durdles. What better hiding-place than a coffin
supposed to contain a legitimately buried corpse? What more
natural result of Drood's unseen escape from the tomb than the
confounding of Jasper by this same Durdles, who cries, in the
words of his early demonstration to the scheming villain
"Holloa! Hollow!"? The ring having been left in the
coffin, Jasper's act is thus brought to light without the
complicity of Edwin Drood. That stricken youth, changed by
illness and grief almost beyond recognition, and further
disguised by the aid of blue spectacles, takes service with
Grewgious in succession to Bazzard, choosing to be considered as
dead rather than bring punishment upon his erring relative. He
is able, without disclosing his identity, to save Rosa from her
persecutor's clutches, and incidentally from a watery grave; but
he hesitates to clear the fame of poor Landless at Jasper's
expense, and for this latter adherence to his principle he can
scarcely be commended. John Jasper is, however, laid by the
heels at last, and destroys himself in Cloisterham Gaol after
horrifying Crisparkle with a detailed account of his criminal
proceedings.
The Datchery nut--always a particularly hard one
to crack, and, it would seem, only to be properly broken in the
door of the cupboard on which the buffer kept his cryptic
score--is crushed shapeless under the heel of misconception.
Mrs. Tope's lodger is revealed as a detective in the employ of
Mr. Grewgious, and we are left to wonder why in the world he
should have imperilled his secret and inconvenienced his person,
parading before all Cloisterham in that aggressive white wig.
Subsequently (1887) the whole of the writer's work
on this subject, including contributions to Leisure
Readings (of the Knowledge Library Series)
was collected, revised, and republished in the form of a volume,
bearing the extremely unscientific title Watched by the
Dead: a loving study of Dickens's half-told tale. This
book, as we shall see, essayed to prove that Drood: had not met
his death at Jasper's hands; that he had already reappeared upon
the scene, and that, in fact, he was none other than the
mysterious buffer Datchery himself. The same book indubitably
proved that Thomas Foster, writer of the scattered articles, and
Richard Proctor, astronomer and editor, were one and the same
person. So did it come about that Watched by the
Dead took its place amongst volumes of able discourses
concerning other worlds than ours.
A considerable portion of the; argument is
concerned with the methods adopted by Jasper in preparing for his
crime, and many of the unrevealed details are convincingly
deduced with admirable skill.
Jasper's peculiar action of clinking the
stonemason's keys together during the interview at Sapsea's has
been noted by various solutionists, with equally various results.
The Brattleborough Spirit asserts that Jasper's object was to so
dent the wards of the vault key that he might readily recognize
it by sight. Mr. Proctor is more artistic in his perception. He
argues truly that a trained musician like Jasper would but need
to hear the tone of the key to distinguish it from others, in
light or darkness. Durdles, on this occasion, cries--"You
can't make a pitch-pipe of 'em, Mr. Jasper." And: again, in
a later scene--"You pitch your note, don't you? So I sound
for mine." The theorist is on solid ground of his own when
he takes up the question of the moonlight; and it is not a little
instructive to note how conclusively he shows that the night of
the murder was necessarily a dark one--notwithstanding
"Gillan Vase," who makes our satellite a fitful but
evident witness of the crime.
Proctor's case for the reappearance of Drood is a
very elaborate one, based mainly upon three grounds: the
significant heading to chapter XIV.
"When shall these three meet again?"; the general
demeanour of Mr. Datchery, and the strange conduct of Grewgious
after the disappearance. The last-named certainly forms a strong
support for the theory.
The lawyer is more than suspicious. But why should
he suspect? The average reader has become so certain of Jasper's
guilt that the importance of this question is overlooked.
Grewgious has not the knowledge which the reader possesses. He
has not accompanied Jasper and Durdles on those strange nocturnal
expeditions; he has not seen the stern, knitted face as the
murderous hand unwound the black scarf from its owner's throat he
has not observed the choirmaster's elation at Edwin's disposition
to quarrel with Landless, nor noted how that quarrel was
deliberately encouraged. Whence does he derive his knowledge?
From Drood, answers Mr. Proctor triumphantly. From the only
one--save Jasper himself--who could tell the story of that night
of villainy.
As to the Datchery-Drood argument--for which the
solutionist reserves his greatest enthusiasm, and which he
attempts to force home with a degree of impatience, we are
offered a comparison, in considerable detail, of the various
passages in which the two characters are referred to. Notably
attention is drawn to the interviews with the opium woman. That
unpleasant old person, telling Datchery of her previous meeting
with Drood, instinctively feels--at least Proctor says so--that
he is the same person, and asks for the same sum. "He
changes countenance when he learns it is for opium, but does not
recognise the full significance of the fact." Neither does
the solutionist. It has always seemed to the present writer that
this part of Mr. Proctor's evidence is amply sufficient to
disprove his pet theory. Neither the solutionist nor his
supporters appear to have noticed the fact that Drood was fully
aware this woman smoked opium. He had asked her the question
point-blank. Datchery may have forgotten the information, but
its repetition would certainly not startle him.
The rescue of Drood by Durdles of course dispenses
with Forster's explanation of the betrothal ring and the
destructive lime. Proctor, however, evades this difficulty with
characteristic ingenuity. The ring is speedily restored to its
former owner, and "so soon as Drood and Grewgious knew that
Jasper's main idea in removing the watch and pin was that they
might not afford evidence against him, the power to inflict a
terrible punishment would be manifest. They would force on
Jasper the completion of his main purpose. What horror to find
he has unwittingly left a fatal witness within the tomb!"
Mr. Proctor' pictures the wretch creeping down the crypt
steps (a strange mistake as to the location of Sapsea's vault),
holding up his lantern, and shuddering at the thought of what it
may reveal. He sees Drood sternly confronting him, and flies up
the winding staircase of the tower, pursued by Landless, Tartar,
Drood, and Crisparkle. There is struggle at the top, and Neville
is killed. Jasper is captured and cast into prison, but not
until he has been made to feel how, while he supposed himself
safe, every movement had been watched by one whom he had thought
dead.
This conclusion, though apparently confirmed by
one of the original cover illustrations, which the theorist
reproduces, has, nevertheless, serious defects. Its weakness is
not so much that it presents Edwin as burrowing about in search
of clues leading to already familiar facts for, as a supporter
has recently suggested on his own account, perhaps Drood was not
sure that Jasper was his assailant. Nor is it altogether the old
objection of empty vengeance on the part of characters better
disposed by nature, though in this respect Mr. Proctor is
decidedly inferior to "Gillan Vase." It is rather the
insuperable difficulty that an innocent man must be mentally
tortured to the verge of the grave in order to create a dramatic
situation, and for this reason, if for no other, the solution
should be rejected.
FOR the sake of clearness, we have
disposed of the "Gillan Vase" conclusion a trifle out
of the correct chronological order; insomuch that, in June of the
same year, 1878, there appeared in the Belgravia
magazine a clever article--signed "Thomas Foster"--by a
writer whose brain was more usually devoted to the elucidation of
abstruse scientific problems. The mystery of "Edwin
Drood" appears to have possessed a remarkable power of
attraction for this learned mathematician. An anonymous
contribution to The Cornhill Magazine for March,
1884 ("Suggestions for a Conclusion"), attempting to
explain the mystery on the lines laid down by Forster in the
Dickens biography, immediately produced from the enthusiastic
"Belgravian" the first of a long series of articles in
the analytical vein--"Dickens's Story Left Half Told"--
which appeared in the pages of the scientific periodical
Knowledge, founded by Richard A. Proctor.