by Bill Peschel
Brick: A kind, reliable person. The phrase was inspired by a story the historian and biographer Plutarch (c. 46-120) tells about King Lycurgus of Sparta, who didn’t believe in building walls around the city. When the ambassador from Epirus asked why, he didn’t receive a reply at first. The next morning, he was awoken and taken to a field outside the city. There, he saw the army of Sparta drawn up in battle formation. “There are the walls of Sparta,” King Lycurgus told him, “and every man is a brick.”
Roundabout: Not a circular intersection, but a carousel consisting of a rotating circular platform with seats for riders.
Silly Billy: A popular character type at English fairs during the 19th century. Think of them as clowns without circus makeup. They wore short, white trousers, red sleeves, a ruff around the neck, and a boy’s cap. But in Richardson’s story, the smock and straw-chewing sounds more like a country-bumpkin type.
Character of a servant: To a servant, reputation was everything. Before a family would hire someone to come into their house and be privy to their inner lives, they would vet the servant’s “character.” Usually, this took the form of a letter from their previous employer, vouching for the applicant’s honesty and work ethic (and that he or she had not been released for stealing or getting into the sherry). Another method would be the interview, where presumably it would be easier to speak freely.
Whiteley’s: London’s first department store, founded in 1863 by William Whiteley (1831-1907). Inspired by the goods on display at the Crystal Palace during the Great Exhibition in 1851, Whitely worked hard and built his business to become what he called “the Universal Provider.” In 1907, at age 75, he was shot and killed in his store by a man who claimed he was Whiteley’s illegitimate son.
Wilson Barrett: Barrett (1846-1904) was one of the most successful actor-managers of the 1880s. He specialized in melodrama; his most successful play, The Silver King, ran for 300 nights in 1882-83. His attempt portraying Hamlet in 1884 was not very successful, however. The vow Richardson mentions occurred on the show’s opening night during Barrett’s curtain speech that was a masterpiece of self-congratulation:
“[F]ive-and-twenty years ago, outside this very theatre, stood a poor and friendless lad who had gone out after spending his last sixpence to go into the gallery … to see Mr [Charles] Kean. He swore to himself … [that] he would be the manager of the theatre and play Hamlet in it himself. (Loud cheers.) That boy kept his word. I am that boy—(loud cheers)—friendless no longer.”
During the 1890s, the fad for melodrama faded. Barrett’s career floundered until he scored in The Sign of the Cross (1895), a historical tragedy in which a Roman patrician falls in love with a young Christian woman. He converts as well, for which they are martyred.
William Gillett: A search online and through the pages of the British Newspaper Archive turned up several Gilletts, but none that appeared to be noteworthy.
Corpus delicti: A legal principle that before someone can be convicted of committing a crime, it has to be proved that the crime existed. If a building burned down, for example, it has to be shown that the fire had been deliberately set. Corpus delicti is from the Latin for “body of the crime,” which has caused confusion among some parts of the public believing that it refers solely to murder, and that a body has to be produced. Acting on that belief, British serial killer John George Haigh (1909-1949) destroyed the bodies of his victims using sulphuric acid. His judgment was proven incorrect at his trial, and he was executed by hanging.
Münsterberg: Hugo Münsterberg (1863-1916) was a German-American psychologist who sought practical uses for this new science. In his book On the Witness Stand (1908), he contended that eyewitness testimony is inherently unreliable and memories can be tainted by suggestions, judgments, and subconscious associations. He also condemned the use of torture and brutality to gain a confession.
Her Bright Smile Haunts Me Still: A song from the Civil War era by W.T. Wrightson and J.E. Carpenter. It was especially popular on the Confederate side; the dashing cavalry officer Jeb Stuart in particular loved to sing it. The song underwent a revival in 2000 when it appeared on a collection of field recordings from the 1950s, and has been covered at least 30 times by folk musicians and groups.
The first verse gives you an idea of the song’s melancholy emotion:
It’s been a year since last we met
We may never meet again
I have struggled to forget
but the struggle was in vain
For her voice lives on the breeze
and her spirit comes at will
In the midnight on the seas
her bright smile haunts me still
Holmes uses the song to refer to the Mona Lisa’s legendary and mysterious smile, which appears to fade and reappear depending on where the viewer stands in relation to the painting. One theory holds that Leonardo da Vinci used a painting technique called sfumato (Italian for “soft” or “pale”), in which an optical illusion is created using color and shading.
Joconde: The French name for the Mona Lisa. It means “the happy one” or “the jocund one.” It is also a play on the model’s last name, Lisa del Giocondo (1479-1542). Mona is a form of address to a woman, derived from ma donna and akin to “my lady” in English.
Agag: The biblical king of the Amalekites who had been defeated by King Saul in battle. When brought before him, Saul chose not to execute him. This angered the prophet Samuel, who ordered the king brought before him. According to 1 Samuel 15:32-33 (King James version): And Agag came unto him delicately. And Agag said, Surely the bitterness of death is past. And Samuel said, As thy sword hath made women childless, so shall thy mother be childless among women. And Samuel hewed Agag in pieces before the Lord in Gilgal.
So “to walk like Agag” means to watch your step. Not that it helped Agag.
Multi-scope: A variant spelling of a mutoscope, an early form of a motion-picture device. Inside the machine was a stack of photos mounted on cards. The customer would drop a coin in the slot, turn a crank, and the cards would turn over one by one rapidly, giving the illusion of motion. In the Disney short A Good Time for a Dime (1941), Donald Duck uses a mutoscope to watch Daisy perform the “Dance of the Seven Veils,” until the machine blacks out at the climatic moment.
Simon-Pure: Meaning untainted or pure. Named for the character in A Bold Stroke for a Wife (1717), a play by English playwright Susannah Centlivre (1669-1723). Part of the story centers around an imposter whose antics force Simon to prove his identity.
Paramaranoiac: A fake psychiatric condition invented by Wells for the purpose of her story, suggesting real illnesses such as paranoia and kleptomania.
Portrait Parle: It should be noted that the French for “speaking likeness” is portrait parle, so the detectives are unwittingly talking about the same system. The real system also doesn’t look anything like what the detectives encountered.
Agley: A Scots word meaning askew or awry. It’s most quoted in this couplet from the poem “To a Mouse” by Robert Burns (1759-1796): “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft agley.”
Frogged lapels: A frog is an ornamented, braided fastener consisting of a button and a buttonhole or a loop. It’s rarely seen on lapels in civilian clothing, so Lupin must have looked quite the avant-garde dandy in that outfit.
Honest man: A reference to the Grecian philosopher Diogenes (412 or 404 B.C.E.-323 B.C.E.) and his Cynic philosophy which promoted a virtuous, simple life by rejecting conventional desires such as wealth, power, and sex. Diogenes was noted for stunts such as carrying a lamp in the daytime and, when asked what he was doing, announce he was searching for a honest man.
Gold Bug: As Lupin was the creation of Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), it should be no surprise that he refers to Poe’s short story “The Gold-Bug” (1843). In it, the discovery of a gold-tinted bug sends two men and a servant on a treasure hunt. The story earned Poe his largest fee, $100, introduced the idiom of being bitten by the gold bu
g to go prospecting, and inspired Robert Louis Stevenson during the writing of Treasure Island (1883).
Paris and Helen: The apple plays a role in the Judgment of Paris, a story from Greek mythology that describes the origin of the Trojan War. Paris was a Trojan mortal who was asked to judge a beauty contest among the goddesses Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, with the prize a golden apple from the Garden of the Hesperides.
The apple was a trap laid by Eris, the goddess of discord. She had not been invited to a party thrown by Zeus, and she didn’t take the snub well. She tossed the apple into the celebration, and written on it was the message “For the fairest one.” Zeus was asked to judge, and he, wisely, turned it over to Paris.
Each goddess enticed Paris into awarding her the apple, first by posing nude before him, then offering a bribe. Aphrodite won by offering him the world’s most beautiful woman. Unfortunately, it was Helen of Sparta, the wife of the Greek King Menelaus. Paris kidnapped Helen and launched a war that destroyed Troy, but gave classical painters another golden opportunity to paint naked beautiful women.
Cherchez la femme: “Look for the woman,” meaning that when a man acts out of character or in an unusual fashion, a woman is often the underlying cause. First published in The Mohicans of Paris, by the elder Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870).
Hop: Drug slang for opium. This leads to the variants hop-fiend and hophead for an opium addict, hopped-up for being under the influence, and a hop stick for an opium pipe.
Mollycoddles: A sissy who needed to be treated with extreme kindness and pampering. O.Henry described him as “a monkey dressed up by its mother and sent out to pick daisies on the lawn.”
Paper cutter: A handled thin-bladed knife made from thermoplastic, which was developed as a replacement for ivory. It was used to open mail and the uncut pages in books. Cellulose is flammable, which led to this item appearing in a San Francisco newspaper in 1893: “Some celluloid paper-cutters were in the front window in the show-case, with rings and other jewelry. The heat of the warm April sun evidently set fire to a celluloid paper-cutter, which was consumed by the fire before the smoke was noticed. The jewelry was tarnished by the smoke.”
Hung him up: Gink is slang for an odd or stupid fellow. It was a relatively recent word, found as early as 1906 in the National Police Gazette: “The gink that knows it all thinks he’s so damned smart.” Hung him up: Did him a bad turn. In this case, probably by riding in his taxi and running off without paying.
Wilson’s: Wilson Whiskey was a popular brand that was founded by Welsh immigrant, Robert Wilson, in 1823 in Highspire, Pa. It was bought by two Baltimore liquor wholesalers, Charles Goldsborough and Alfred Ulman, in 1887. They expanded production with the help of advertising campaigns built on the minimalist slogan “Wilson, That’s All.” The company was forced to discontinue production in 1919 due to Prohibition.
Quire: Twenty-four sheets of paper, which is rather a lot to cram into one’s pockets.
S.P.C.A.: The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, an organization founded in 1824 in England. The American society ran animal hospitals where they developed new treatments.
Wood alcohol and lithia water: A highball is a general term for any spirit such as whisky, rye, gin, or rum, mixed with a non-alcoholic liquid and served in a tall glass. So gin and tonics, rum and Coca-Cola, and Cuba Libres are all highballs. Note that they’re made with ethanol, which is made by fermenting sugars with yeast and is drinkable. Wood alcohol, per its name, was distilled from wood and is highly poisonous. Lithia water is mineral water containing lithium salts. It was a popular drink between the 1880s and World War I and marketed for its alleged health benefits. Demand was so high, and natural Lithia springs so rare, that most manufacturers simply added lithium bicarbonate to spring water and sold that instead. After the war, the U.S. cracked down on adulterated products and public interest in mineral waters faded.
William the Silent: The room is named for William I, the Prince of Orange (1533-1584). At a time when Catholic Spain ruled the Protestant Netherlands, he led a revolt against his former masters that set off the Eighty Years’ War and led to independence in 1581.
Sapristi: A mild expletive of irritated surprise, such as “good heavens” or “bloody hell.” Although it is spoken here by an Italian, and it appears in Spanish comic books, its origins seem to be more French. Perhaps it’s one of those general-purpose oaths that safely crosses national borders.
Chateau de Thibermesnil: As recounted in The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsene Lupin, Gentleman-Burglar.
Hammerless revolver: Despite its name, it does have a hammer that is used to fire the bullet. But it is shrouded within the body of the gun and cannot be seen. This makes the gun easier to conceal in a pocket and less likely to snag when being pulled out.
Serviette: A cloth napkin. The word was commonly used in the British Empire.
Mal de mer: The French word for seasickness, caused by conflict between how the body perceives movement with the eyes and the system that senses balance and spatial orientation—the vestibular system.
St. Peter’s: As one of Jesus’ apostles, Simon Peter was ordained by Jesus as the rock on which he will build his church. He is therefore considered to be the first pope. In Matthew 16:19, Jesus tells him, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on Earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on Earth shall be loosed in heaven.” Two large keys appear on the Holy See’s coat of arms.
Entente Cordiale: A series of agreements between Great Britain and France signed in 1904 that cemented an alliance between the two nations and settled nearly two centuries of conflict. The agreements resolved disputes over who would have greater influence over parts of Africa (Egypt went to Britain, Morocco to France), Siam (split down the middle), and the Newfoundland fisheries (Britain). Part of the reason the two nations agreed to the pact, which translates from the French as “cordial agreement,” was in reaction to the growth of German diplomatic and military power.
Parbleu: Of course.
’varsity: The word is a shortened form of university, which explains the single quote mark at the beginning of the word.
Broadway squad: A special body of policemen charged with regulating traffic and pedestrian safety on the traffic-choked street. Formed before the Civil War, the squad consisted of burly policemen, at least six feet tall. According to a profile in Munsey’s Magazine in 1900, the squad was “expected to keep the trucks and carriages from blocking the street, to decide differences between coachmen and drivers, and, if need be, to stop cable cars in order to permit pedestrians to pass by on the other side in safety. They stand between the car tracks. They must be all eyes and ears and arms. It is no easy task to keep from being run down themselves. They have a specially watchful eye for the children on their way to and from the public schools. They are responsible for the safety of the thousands who go over the crossings which they guard when the life of Broadway is at high tide.” As the city grew, similar squads were established in the other boroughs.
Ma foi: “My faith!”
The Wearing of the Green: An Irish street ballad inspired by the savage repression following the Irish Rebellion of 1798. There are many versions, but they follow the same pattern: a visitor asks about life in Ireland, only to be told that they’re hanging men and women for wearing green, a color which had been adopted by the rebels. The rest of the song expresses defiance against the English: “You may take the shamrock from your hat, and cast it on the sod / But ’twill take root and flourish still ’tho underfoot ’tis trod.”
The Ladies’ Own Ledger: A fictional magazine for women that suggests Godey’s Lady’s Book or Ladies Home Journal.
Jabot: A fabric necklace, made from lace or cambric, that fell from the throat. It was usually either pinned around the throat or attached to a neckband or collar. Jabot is the French word for a bird’s crop, or a portion of its throat.
Mona Lisa: See “The Adventure of the Mona Lisa�
�� in the 1912 chapter.
Weighing the Baby: American sculptor John Rogers (1829-1904) was the Norman Rockwell of his time. He produced sculptures of charming scenes that were mass-produced in cast plaster. Typical sculptures showed a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat before a child and his father, two men playing checkers on a barrel in a general store, a scene between John Alden and Priscilla Mullens from the legend of the courtship of Miles Standish, and Abe Lincoln with Gen. U.S. Grant and Secretary of War Edwin Stanton.
But Wells was mistaken in her description of “Weighing the Baby.” It showed a merchant using his large scale for the task, watched by the contented mother and a little boy. One was sold at auction in 2011 for $300.
Rouletabille: Joseph Rouletabille is a new character, so let’s take a moment to describe him as the reporter and amateur detective created by Gaston Leroux (1868-1927), best known for writing the novel The Phantom of the Opera (1910). Rouletabille (pronounced “Rou-let-a-bill”) starred in seven novels between 1908 and 1923, and two sequels by Nore Brunel in 1947.
The Yellow Room: Joseph Rouletabille first appeared as the reporter and amateur detective in The Mystery of the Yellow Room by Gaston Leroux (1908). It is one of the first locked-room mysteries and is still worth reading today.