December 26, 2003
The Quincunx
A quincunx is the arrangement of five items with four forming the corner of a square and the fifth centered between them, as with the pips on a die. Charles Palliser's The Quincunx is a book obsessed with the number five. It is made up of five parts, each composed of five books, each composed of five chapters; it tells the story of five doomed generations of five branches on a family tree. I'm not sure whether Palliser had crazy Oulipo-esque mirrorings, where as you dig further into the structure each whole element reveals itself to be five smaller components, but I wouldn't put it past him; the figure of the quincunx (and quincunxes of quincunxes) is itself a major plot point on at least three occasions. But beyond the formal gameplaying, The Quincunx is mostly an unashamed page-turner. Its hero, John Mellamphy, begins the novel as an upper-class child in the rural England of the early nineteenth century, but he does not stay there for long. His mother (a widow, or so she claims) is vague about her past; she believes that there is some sort of conspiracy against them that revolves around a mysterious document in her possession and her unnamed enemies who would kill to obtain it. Her predictions are, of course, accurate, and the Mellamphy household suffers a number of reversals, slipping into direst penury in the slums of London. From there, it's a whirlwind tour of lost wills, buried family scandals, insane asylums, arguments about the morality of law and man's innate nature, gangs of criminals, murder plots, fallen women, low humor among the servant class, dark doings in the London sewers, stock fraud, mad aunts, thwarted romance, &c. The first thirty pages or so were slow going, and I found myself asking why my friend recommended this so highly. Everything after that was a wonderful blur; it's all of Dickens (of whom I am not fond, but after this I am considering giving Bleak House another try) put through a blender and then cranked up to 11. Yummy good fun, and the perfect beach book for the howling winter months.
I think it is a brilliant book, you can't leave the story till it's finished. Then, all those characters hunt you and you keep asking yourself what the hell happened the wedding night. Who was John's father- Martin Fortisquince I would say - and you pray for a second part. We all want to know if our unfortunate hero managed to make justice or not in the future. I love this book and it is one of the most interesting plots I've ever read.
Yes, it occurred to me that Martin was the dad. I don't think Peter and Mary had time to consummate their marriage, for one thing. Then Martin appears.
I was puzzled by the last sentence. John says that his grandfather killed Lydia's intended. Was this Sancious? Butt supposedly, John's grandfathers are John, Mary's father, and Silas Clothier, Peter's father. And if it's Martin, then it's Martin's father.
Also, I thought that John was a little rough on Henrietta.
"Also, I thought that John was a little rough on Henrietta."
That was one of the nicest things about the end, in my mind; John's treatment of Henrietta, his dismissal of the promise he made Sukey and Harry, the rather shocking way he dismisses Joey, and his attitude to the estate all make it perfectly clear that when he's not being a Dickensian hero, John's something of a worm.
Jeannot, the exact wording is "by my grandfather's sword." Palliser is clearly leaving it ambiguous, but I think Ana's reading is correct.
Steve,
Good points. I obviously haven't had time to meditate adequately on this work. My impression right now is that the web of relationships and intrigue, matched only perhaps by the London sewer system, is too intricate for a first reader to follow.
But I think your point is that the mystery remains even when we have finished the book. As to the protagonist, he does seem to change his ideas about the inheritance a number of times. But at the same time, he seems fairly scrupulous throughout most of the work--and pretty considerate. Thus the ending seems like a 'diabolus ex machina.'
Yes, the fact that it was 'his grandfather's sword' doesn't mean that his grandfather had killed Lydia's betrothed.
Is it that John has taken on some of the characteristics of the Mompressons at the end? That is, that now he is going to be the lord of the manor, with the wherewithal to put the estate to rights?
Peter was probably not John's biological father. Apart from the fact that in his mother's account ( and that's all we have, so, she may not be telling the whole truth here... ) there's no marriage night consumation time. There's the fact that the Porteouses said something nasty to him about his parentage when they had him locked up in the backroom - something so horrible to him that he refused to write it down for us. There's the people commenting on how much John looks like his grandfather, but not like Peter. There's Peter seeming to be surprised that he has a son, and then killing himself so soon after the revelation. And there's Mom's missing pages. Was it Martin? He did like the younger women, and he did selflessly keep Mary and John alive and well and safe all those years. And Mrs. Fortinquince sure didn't like Mary very much, did she? And the story hints at the double meaning when Mrs. Fortisquince says "I knew the murderer couldn't be your father." Why does John wonder over that line? Maybe he's substituting "Peter" for "murderer". As for THAT murder, I think there's little doubt that it went down the way Escreet re-enacted it. Peter was very much not guilty.
Yep, John's a bit of a worm, one that made sure to wriggle out of that contract with Sukey's brother right away. Now that wealth was a concrete reality for him. I don't think he disproportionately hard on Henrietta though. He was never sure he loved her, and she never came across as entirely in love with him either. Just interested in him because her world was so tiny. and by the end she was downright nutty. I hope she wound up happy ( with David Mompesson? Or stalking him??? ) in Calais.
Yes, it certainly crossed my mind that Martin was the real father, for the reasons you named.
I just thought that Henrietta got a bit of a short shaft. She did need drawing out, though.
I've been puzzled/fascinated by this book for a while now. I think 'uncle' Martin is John H's biological father. This is for all the reasons give by others, plus there is a reference to how similar the older John and Martin looked when they were boys. And there's a Freudian slip in the last sentence of the book, I reckon.
The older John H could have been killed by either Martin or Escreet. I tend to think it was Martin's father and, when Escreet killed Sancious, he was avenging by killing Jemima Fortisquince's (second) husband in return for the actions of the first husband. However, it could have been Escreet.
As for the death of the John Umphraville, I think it was Martin's father. He and his wife were living at the old hall at the time. He is John's grandfather. He is the statue that moved in Mrs Bellflower's account, and his wife took that statue to her new home (John's first home) when he died. John consistently idealises him (because he is his father) but why should such an ideal link up with Jemima?
What do others think?
i also considered martin to be john's father (for all the reasons stated above) but the last sentence of the novel "... where miss lydia's lover had died by my grandfather's sword." refers to jeoffrey huffam who had ordered the murder of j. uphraville rather than to mr. escreet whose hand had done the slaying. so if jeoffrey h. is john's grandafather, then his son, mr escreet must be john's father. this would also explain mary's hate and fear toward escreet, for that must had been a rape.
(excuse my english, i am a foreigner :))
to me it seems that mary's father is also john's father, a particular case of victorian time's incest (see the afterword). That would explain the fact that M. Escreets constantly talks about john's grandfather, while john thinks M. Escreet is just confused in time. to be honest i don't think the author had this possibility in mind, but anyway it is one.
Working on a theory, that may interest you.
You've always wondered about Miss Lydia' s possible baby.
Premise: She had a baby with Umphraville, who was killed, the baby was taken away, that baby was John Huffam Senior,
and given to childless James and Eliza to be a male heir of Jeoffry Huffam. Lydia is JH's great grandmother.
Pro args:
1. Lady Monpesson does mention a sordid affair ch 99
"I presume you never forgave your parents for that scandal....which brought shame and humiliation on them.
I know you are obsessed with revenge I dont know quite what you imagine your parents did, but the truth is that it died"
2. JH thinks ....she was so evasive about a question, because of her Aunts(Anna) connction with her own (tradgedy of baby) ch 99
3. ch 100 JH thinks ....Lydia loved Henrietta "like her lost child" and "for the child she should have had" christening robe for "a child
that did not live to be baptized.
4. ch 99 again Lydia saying "imagine her anguish(anna) her pain and grief, (annas) father and Jeoffry Huffum took the baby from her, and told her it had died.
5. ch 98 JHsr is named after Umpraville, (might it be that it was his son, not his nephew) and thats why Lydia said she
took an interest in JHsr, got him the will, supposedly to save MC from the odious marriage
6. She takes too much of an interest in helping JHsr MC and JH, is it only to right the wrong of the stolen will, or might it be that
she wants her blood to own the estate, that she was deprived of because she was not a boy.
7. Lydia says "His sister...My father ...in short" and stops, Hugo Monpesson (Lydias father) would never have allowed Jeoffry to
give Lydias baby to James and Eliza, unless he was forced to. Might Jeoffry have known about an illicit affair and blackmailed him
into saving himself from a scandal and providing a male heir as James' son...????
8. Lydia says about Umphraville "he died, ahh how many young lives have been blighted by that business and will be" Seems
to me, if there was no one else, then the only lives affected by Umphravilles murder would be his and Lydias. Who else?
She know something, then mentions "and now the Huffan heir is in this house"
9. and finally..same chapter...Lydia says she met JHsr once..."He came to (the Monpessons) ask about things he had been told by an old retainer
of his Grandfather. He had requested him(Monpesson) to tell him about his parents and old Jeoffry Huffam"
Cons: 1. ch 95 Lydia says that JH has no Monpesson blood....but Lydia mentions or frowns upon illicit affairs,
e.g. Wicked Mother of MF, wicked behavior of MF and MC...Anna's affair....
is she going to admit to JH and Henrietta that she conceived a baby before marriage.
2. see 7 in pros.
Just a theory
We will find all answers :
http://perso.wanadoo.fr/gix/quin_fr.htm
Sry still in frecnch but a web slater may help.
Something not on my site : i think Johnnie is born in 1813 and not 1812 as all try to make us believed.
The incest comment above is interesting. If the afterword by Palliser (in the 2nd printing) is staightforward, then a reader made a suggestion to Palliser about John's parentage that shocked and surprised him. That suggests to me the notion that Mary's father committed incest with her, and that John is indeed the child of that act. However, I find it odd that Palliser could be genuinely surprised by this, even if most of his hints point to Martin Fortisquince or, perhaps, Mr Escreet. I read Palliser in the afterword as *continuing* the mystery, rather than genuinely illuminating it! A crucial point in the mystery is that Mary could only have become pregnant on or about her wedding night. We 'know' that Peter Clothier could not be the father (or do we.....), and that it was crucial to the Huffam family that she have a child. Had Mary's father and Fortisquince - in a truly bizarre plot - agreed that one of them must impregnate her when Peter is unexpectedly 'unavailable'?
Hi,
Ran across this page after finishing the book.
Here are some thoughts.
John talks about Martin's mother bringing the statue to the house and that it saved her lover. He also talks about who he suspects her lover to be.
It must be Jeoffry Escreet. Assuming that Martin is indeed John's father, then it all fits in nicely -- Escreet is John's grandfather, who killed Lydia's lover amongst the statues.
What I don't understand is when he gives one of the reasons for not marrying Henrietta as being that he doesn't want to see the estate "tainted" with Mompesson blood. It is he who is tainted wiht Mompesson blood, not her. So perhaps he is saying that he will not pursue the plans to acquire the estate? Then why bring up the issue with Sukey?
Of course, Mary would have the answers to who John's father really was. In the same paragraph where John says that his paternity is doubtful, he brings up "the circumstances of my mother's death". I went back and read that section and apart from the destruction of part of her story, I can't imagine what clues lie there. I can only suppose that perhaps this section revealed who the father was.
I agree that there does not seem to have been time for Peter Clothier to be the father. Martin seems a likely choice; it explains well why he was so kind to Mary, and perhaps why Jemima was so cruel towards her. However, wouldn't have Jemima taken the opportunity to tell John of his illegitimacy? At the very least, she certainly would have used this to her purposes in pursuing the estate.
Wow people, it is really amazing to read what you all think of this magnificent book. I for myself must say I found it hard to follow all the events and understand the several mysteries.
But like Saar and Gary implicated: the fact that John (Palliser) so clearly points out Escreet must be confused, seems to me a big hint/argument for the incest possibility. I can only believe Palliser wants us to consider that possibility. So why does he act surprised? Afraid to reveal it all?
Thanx by the way Gix, I wanna know more so I'm gonna read your website now! Luckily it is easy to get it translated in English, although not everything becomes completely understandable. But I will manage :-)
Probably you are right
Rather a shame about the French site, it doesn't seem to hold any page anymore.
I do agree with Gary that it is strange Palliser would be so shocked by the reader's suggestion he mentioned.
Personally, I suspect Martin Fortisquince. It would be a nice explanation for his care later and the way Mrs. Fortisquince/Sancious treats Mary. She must have found out and hated Mary for it.
I don't have the book in front of me now but in Mary's account didn't the events described in the pages she destroyed precede the wedding night, at least their flight to Hertford? Meaning her night with Martin F. (or her own father?) wasn't necessarily spent at the Blue Dragon, but before? And didn't the Porteous/Clothier family continually put forward that Peter had been duped, or was in a way a sorry victim? As if her pregnancy had been known/suspected? But according to Mr. Nolloth, Peter was grateful (and sure?) that no child had come of their brief marriage, which confirms (or does it?) that the marriage was not consummated, and that at least he did not know of any pregnancy.
A question for Simon Courage above (11 April): who do you mean when you say "Martin's father" if you do not mean Escreet?
A question regarding the French site: Hugo M. had an affair with Eliza U.? I don't read French, but maybe someone can enlighten me? I seemed to have missed that little scandal altogether.
First of all, if Martin is John Jr.'s father why wouldnt the author of ever made that clear? It is never disputed in the actual pages that anyone but Peter is the father, all theories aside.
And if Peter is later "grateful" that no child came of their union....then the possibility is clear a child may have been created, ie, they had sex.
Oh yes, another addition. Fortisquince is Strong Five in latin. Mull that one.
I've just finished this book, and I'd like to contribute something I noticed. When John meets Henrietta in the last chapter could the thing that startles him about her so much be that she's pregnant with Henry's child? This could contribute to why he brushed her off so harshly, and his comment about not wanting to marry her because he didn't want to taint the house with Mompesson blood.
Also, in the continuation of Henrietta's story earlier in the book, it says that she moved in with Miss Quilliam, and they lived together sustaining themselves by needlework until the youngest member of the household dies (the baby). Then Miss Quilliam drops out of the picture, and Henrietta moves to Calais (To live with Sir David?).
Just a thought. I don't have the edition with the afterword, so I don't know if this has been covered.
Henrietta must be pregnant with Sir David's baby. I think Henrietta actually functions as the hero of this novel, if not as its protagonist. She, after all, embodies many of the virtues that Johnnie claims most to admire. Chiefly, she disdains the family intrigue that has brought such ruin to all five of the houses. Her tragedy seems to be that she has acted rashly in a love affair with a heel (Sir David) and that she is abandoned by Johnnie, whom she has perceived as an ally for much of her life.
I think some of the above comments that seem to call for a sequel to this book rather miss the point. Consider where Johnnie finds himself at the end of the novel. He is heir to the Clothier fortune, monies wrung from the poor and the desperate. He has one suit before Chancery, at the urging of the Mompessons' lawyer, and is considering placing the will itself before the court. He believes that Henrietta is unworthy of him because of her arriviste blood.
Most important, he has given up trying to discover any further truths about the past, including the identity of his father. In other words, he has become, by his own ethical standards, utterly compromised.
Palliser is offering, I believe, a critique of the Dickens novel in the guise of an homage. Dickens' characters arrive at their inheritances or homes with their goodness intact. Not so Johnnie Huffam (if that is his name). There may be a solution to all the knots in this puzzle, but it matters less than the fact that our leading man has stopped caring.
I like this last take. I recently reread Oliver Twist and John's right (above) - Dickens likes his heroes to remain heroes. But does John Huffam truly no longer care, or is he just worn out? It is not clear in the end that he is going to inherit both estates; he is still undecided. And his comment that he does not want to taint the estate with Mompesson blood could just as well be a reference to his own and not Henrietta's 'arriviste blood' (assuming Martin is his father). I agree that Henrietta retains many of the qualities that Johnnie admires, but I'm not so sure he has himself necessarily lost them. He seems to still be contemplating letting the whole thing go and moving off into (somewhat well-heeled) anonymity - perhaps as a last ditch effort to save just that part of himself? Or am I too much pining for Dickens?
I think Sharon's right that Johnnie Huffam is worn out by the end of this book (and, let's face it, the reader is, too). Perhaps that exhaustion is the endpoint for the bildungsroman aspect of the novel. Maybe the author's point is that adulthood means ambivalence about ethics and principles. After all, Johnnie's position at the end of his story isn't so different from that of, say, Percival Mompesson (before his death). He's reasonably comfortable; he has inherited a plausible claim to some kind of fortune, but it's unclear how it's going to work out; and in order to further his claim, he has to suppress some piece of damaging information. In the case of Sir Percival, that is the "new will." For Johnnie, it's his growing suspicion that he is not the legitimate scion of the Huffam line.
But he's still a Huffam. Even if all suspicions are true, he still (albeit in a rather round about fashion) descended from Jeoffrey Huffam. What he really needs to hide is that oh so wobbly claim of his to the Clothier fortune. But regarding the Huffam line - is there really any cause for fear? Good Lord, isn't everyone else who could have possibly stood in his way (save for poor Henrietta) dead by now?
If Johnnie is Martin Fortisquince's son, then he is born out of wedlock, and therefore illegitimate. In that case, we should call him a Fitzhuffam. I have a habit of returning books to the library the second I'm done with them, so I may be forgetting some obvious plot point, but doesn't Fortisquince's widow still have an active claim? My brain is now pretty thoroughly buried in Trollope (and stuck in the 19th century), so I honestly can't remember.
You mean wily Jemima? Yes, she's alive, although the new will nullified her chances as well. (Poor bloodthirsty dear.) You're right about Johnnie - I plumb forgot about that illegitimacy business. I must still be digesting how a woman so hair-pullingly helpless could manage a husband and a lover, and all, it seems, in one night. The only true heiress is Henrietta and, considering the carnage and general nastiness surrounding the Huffam estate, who can blame her for preferring to piddle about Calais with Sir David? (My copy is still on my bookshelf due to a vague (and unrealistic) notion that it deserves a second and more attentive reading, but my brain has moved on as well...)
I've just discovered this interesting discussion. My own impression is that John Huffam's two grandfathers are Escreet and Silas Clothier and that his father is Martin Fortisquince. Does anybody have any enlightening theories on what happened at Charing Cross as opposed to Hertford on the wedding day? And has anybody noticed the multitude of chronological errors throughout the book? By the way, the date of birth of John Huffam was 12 February 1812, the same as .... guess who?
Happy New Year to everybody! I have to correct my last message. The date of birth was 7 February, but the point is still the same. What should be borne in mind in reading this book is that the author strongly hints that there are layers of truth and that what John believes may be subject to revision in the light of subsequent discoveries. At the very end he is giddy at the thought of further complications.
Three things that have always puzzled me a bit:-
(a)What happened at Charing Cross on the wedding day?
(b)Who was really contributing to John's upkeep with the Digweeds?
(c)If Lydia gave the will to Martin Fortisquince to give to John Huffam the elder, how did it return to the possession of the Mompessons?
This novel contrasts strongly with "The Unburied" by Charles Palliser, which has a complicated plot but does allow the reader to reach a satisfactory explanation. "Betrayals", like "The Quincunx" leaves us a bit in the dark.
How do you come to the conclusion that Escreet and Clothier are Johnnie's two grandfathers? You lost me there. It is odd that in all those family links we are never clearly told who Mary's mother was. And who else was born on 12 February? The details are sadly fading from my memory. I think Escreet stabbed Old Huffam just like Jemima said, and I assumed he also, somehow, returned the will as it was in his best interests (didn't the new will nullify his ownership of the house?). With regard to the Digweeds - is it impossible to think that they were supporting him on their own?
Sorry I expressed myself so poorly on 2 January. My point about the grandfathers is that John legally inherited the (worthless) Huffam estate through John senior and Mary, but that his true blood descent from Jeoffrey Huffam was through the latter's illegitimate son Escreet and his illegitimate son Fortisquince. The (substantial) Clothier fortune comes to him from Silas Clothier and his son Peter, who is no blood kin of John. Your point about Mary's own parentage is well made. The other person born on 7 February 1812 was Charles John Huffam Dickens!
Further to my last posting, it seems highly improbable that the Digweeds, who are scraping a very rough living and have been through even worse hardships previously, would have enough ready cash to look after John, who on one occasion is mystified at seeing so much money before them on a table.
You might find it worthwhile to give this book a second read, because some of the issues raised by contributors could change your perceptions. But it is very long, though highly readable. The writer must have a real affinity with 19th century English fiction to have produced it, though he is an American.
You've read it a second time? Oh, hat's off. I'm sure I would read it again with very open eyes, but the size of it is so, well, bloody daunting. I read somewhere that Palliser himself said that everything is there in the book, i.e. he does not leave us hanging. So if it's all in there, here's another thought: the French site claims that John Sr. is the son of Lydia and John Umphraville. Meaning...? I don't know. Could the Mompessons or Lydia or someone from that secretive clan have been supporting Johnnie? I admit, it's a bit of a stretch. Alas, I can't think of anyone in whose interests it would have been to keep the poor chap alive.
I think one can safely assume that this novel will never be dramatised because nobody would be able to put the plot together on screen. As to the interesting suggestion about the true parentage of John Huffam senior, one interesting implication would be that in the duel at Hougham John's great-grandfather was killed by John's grandfather, assuming Escreet was the father of Martin Fortisquince and that the latter was the father of John.
And what do you think of the possibility that John Huffam Sr. is the real father of Johnnie? It would make more sense as to why Mary was so freaked out about her son ever finding out the truth (why oh why did he not ask Helen when he found her all those years later?!). And there are all those references to how similar they look, etc. But...blech.
Here is a list of questions and the most important mysteries of The Quincunx,
that I had hoped I would understand after reading the book the first time.
I had to reread the book to answer them.
1. Who is Johnny's Father?
2. Who are Johnny's Grandfathers?
3. What was in the missing 16 pages of the diary (i.e. Mary's confession) ?
4. What additionally was discussed between John Huffam and Martin Fortisquince, when Fortisquince was trying to dissuade Huffam from marrying Mary to Clothier?
5. Do you have any ideas about Miss Lydia's child, that was taken away?
6. Who killed John Huffam, and who killed Umprahville?
7. When was Johnny born? (Easy question if you know that Wellsley
was the famous Duke of Wellington, who defeated Napolean)!
8. Whose hands touched the Will.
9. Whose hands touched the Codicil.
So. Are you going to tell us? Begging via Internet is so pathetic, but I dare say I might just stoop.
In response to Sharon's question, I should dismiss the possibility entirely because Mary writes in her diary that she could not bear the thought that the father of her child had killed her papa. It they were the same person, she would be making no sense at all.
In response to Michael's questions, these are my guesses.(1)Martin Fortisquince. (2)John Huffam and Jeffrey Escreet. (3)Information about the events leading up to her wedding and events in Charing Cross and Hertford. John could have pretended to burn the pages at Mitre Court because his mother would not have been able to see what he was doing. (4)Possibly an offer by Fortisquince to marry Mary and thus reduce the Clothiers' hold on John Huffam. (5)No, but your suggestion in 2004 was a good one! (6a)Either Escreet or an outsider. I don't see Martin Fortisquince or Peter Clothier as realistic murderers, nor do I think Mary's missing pages would have thrown any light on the question. (6b)Escreet, who openly admitted it. (7) 7 February 1812, the same day as Charles Dickens. But a case for 1813 could just be made because Sir George Rose's legislation did not come into effect until 1813, and Sir Perceval on first seeing him at Hougham remarks on how small John is. But then that leaves the question of what happened to Mary in the year after her wedding. (8) Which will do you mean? Incidentally, I couldn't fathom how John could know the precise date of the 1770 will when he had never seen it and couldn't even be sure of its existence. (9) You would have to spell this question and the last out to me. Escreet was probably instrumental in concealing the codicil and pretending to buy it back at enormous expense. Surely John Huffam Snr and Silas Clothier would have asked questions about who had been holding on to it all those years. There were very few people who could have had knowledge of it or have had any financial interest in it. Another point that bothers me is that Barbellion, an astute lawyer, tells John near the end of the book that the Hougham estate is practically worthless because of all the debts and encumbrances. How is it that a sharp old money man like Silas Clothier with all his sources of information is unaware of the condition of the estate, which would be of no profit to him if he gained possession?
Question 8
1. Jeoffrey Huffam authored it (presumably)
2. Paternoster stole it
3. Hugh Mompesson bought it
4. Augustus and Percival inherited it
5. Lydia stole it
6. Fortisquince unknowingly carried it to John Huffam
7. Escreet sold it back to Percival
8. Johnnie stole it
9. Henry Bellringer steals it and gives it to Escreet
10. Sanctious takes it from Escreet
11. Escreet takes it back and gives it to Jemima
12. Jemima gives it to Johnnie ( who knows why??)
Brian,
In reponse to Clothier not be aware of the worthlessness of the estate, there are these explanations.
1. He coveted the estate for so long, and had the means to rebuild it
2. A mistake by Palliser, of which there are several others
a. The Papers say Bellringer and David were cousins!!! Noone knew of Excreets relationship to the Mompessons!!
b. Johnny later reflects on Barbellion as not being so bad, the cad that hounded his Mother and helped bring her to an untimely death
and there are others
1812 Jan. 9-19 Ciudad Rodrigo
Advowson writes on the Baptism Certificate:
" A fine frosty day, excellent news of the capture of Ciudad Rodrigo by Wellsley..Baptised John, Son of Mary Mellamphy of this parish....."
A couple of comments:
1) Some of the posts above seem confused about the legal definition of legitimacy, which is an important concept to understand in reference to inheritance laws. Babies born to women who are married at the time of the birth, or who were widowed less than nine months prior to the birth, are legitimate regardless of their actual paternity. These children are legally presumed to be the offspring of their mother's husbands, and while this presumption is rebuttable in court, there was no DNA technology in the early 19th century so success was rare. Babies are considered to be legitimate even if the marriage takes place only a few hours before labor starts! Thus Peter was John's legal father under English inheritance laws, and John was neither "born out of wedlock" nor "illegitimate."
2) When John passes through the village of his childhood on his way back to London from his North Country school, he looks up his baptismal record in the church. He notes that it was witnessed by Martin Fortisquince "Godfather and father" and that another "hand" (another person's handwriting) had added "Peter Clothier" after the word "father." This provided a strong indication that Martin was John's biological father well before the book got into the circumstances of Mary's wedding night etc.
I misspoke about the definition of legitimacy. Under English Common Law in the 19th century, a woman had to have been married for at least seven months before her baby was born for the child to be considered legitimate. The Church (canon law) was more liberal, allowing children whose mothers wed shortly before childbirth to be considered legitimate.
Thank you for the comments, Lutraa. In my opinion it would be hard to put forward a convincing case for anybody other than Martin Fortisquince as John's father. The real issue for the main parties in the struggle for the Huffam estate is not legal legitimacy but the existence of evidence (or its lack) to substantiate it. John takes the wise precaution of having the baptismal certificate copied by Mr Advowson because he can forsee its disappearance and even his own identity being called into question at a later date.
In response to Michael's observations, the errors I detected in the book were mainly chronological, but some were in prominent places. The first one is at the very start of chapter 11, which states that Lady Day (25 March) was a little more than two months after the shock visit of Mr Barbellion to John's mother, but chapter 10 clearly relates the visit as occurring before Christmas. Besides palpable errors, there are some problems with the whole chronology of the events in the book. The newspaper report to which you referred gave the dateline as Tuesday 2 December. That would mean Christmas Day in that year would fall on a Thursday. But when John is a servant with the Mompessons Christmas Day falls on a Friday, because Joey tells John that George Digweed had died on a Sunday, two days after Christmas. From this we deduce that it was in 1829, and that John escaped from Brook Street on his eighteenth birthday on 7 February 1830. The death of Henry Bellringer therefore, if we take the newspaper date as correct, occurred in 1834 when Christmas did fall on a Thursday!
With regard then to your (Brian) three questions put forward on 2 January, the third seems to have been explained. At least I'm satisfied with the Michael's explanation that Escreet sold it back to the Mompessons. But can anyone clear the air as to what happened then at Charing Cross/hotel on the wedding night? Are we to assume that everything happened the way it is told (by Peter, by Mary, by Jemima), and that when Martin went to tell Mary they got a little...cuddly? Was that the first and last of their "romance"? Or was there something going on earlier? What confuses me is just how horrified Johnnie was when the doctors in the nuthouse told him who (they believed) his real father to be. I realize we live in different times, but still...
As to the issue regarding who was paying the Digweeds to keep Johnnie, I'm in the dark. I can't even think up a good guess. Anyone else?
Other fun references to the number five in the book:
"Phumphred" (coachman) fumpf = five in German
"Sancious" (AKA Steplight) cinque = five in French and is pronounced somewhat like "sahnk"
I'm sure there are others . . .
In reply to Sharon's questions, I'd say there is more mystery about Charing Cross than about Hertford. My own reading is that Martin Fortisquince seduced Mary Clothier at the Blue Boar in the very same room in which Henrietta Palphramond was seduced by Henry Bellringer many years later. Recurring patterns is the main underlying theme of the novel. But if anybody can provide a coherent account of the murder of John Huffam Snr, I'd certainly read it with interest and post comments. Did you have the impression that John was horrified at his father in the asylum? My feeling was that he was horrified at the poor man's condition, and not at what he might have done. As for the Digweed question, I'm with you in your puzzlement. My surmise is that when the book ends (in 1832?) John is a young man in considerable confusion with no belief that he will ever get to the bottom of the mysteries of his life.
Just to clarify my comment about Johnnie being horrified. I didn't mean when he saw his father, rather when Daniel Clothier and his hired doctor told JH who is real father was. (This was in his cell, I think right before they took him to see Peter, but I could be wrong). He called them liars, and then told the reader it was too horrible even to write down for us. That's what made me wonder. It seemed an extreme reaction to a seduction. Don't you agree?
Oh, and with regard to Charing Cross - I take it you don't buy Jemima's story that it was Escreet? I thought the only doubt there was in Johnnie's own mind, and we know by now that he is often wrong. So couldn't it have very well been just as she said/described? And Barney was nothing more than a red herring of sorts?
It would have been a terrible shock to John to hear it suggested that Peter Clothier was not his real father after he had wondered about the identity of his father for so long and thought he had arrived at the truth. As for the Charing Cross murder, Escreet appears the likeliest suspect, but it is strange that he should deny the deed when he was willing to admit killing Umphraville, and Nolloth in the asylum seems to be of the opinion that it might have been somebody from outside the house. But if we accept that there are recurring patterns in the book, then it would not be out of place for Escreet to kill Umphraville and then John Huffam Snr who might possibly have been Umphraville's son by Lydia. Bear in mind that Jemima Fortisquince did not see the murder done and might, by giving her account, have been trying to goad an old man who was deranged. I consider the murder at Charing Cross to be the biggest mystery in the novel, but many would disagree.
I finished the damned book today. Remarkable construction. Seeing how all readers on the net warned about the complexity of the book, I read it noting every new character and some of the impotant clues in a little book. So I finished the monster understanding more or less all the intrigues, family relationships and illegal children! But it was really too heavy stuf. An overdose of Agatha Christie (the murder of old John Huffam is a "closed chamber"-mystery) and Charles Dickens. How many times have I wished that finally one of his innumerable ennemies would kill that indestructible John Junior! He seemed stronger weed than JR Ewing himself! Didn't you, fellow readers, noticed a taste of cardboard when Palliser kept on fooling around with the characters to obtain the 125 chapters of his story?
Just finished today as well. Holy cow! And I'm a fast reader... One note on Silas Clothier not counting on all the debts of the Estate... isn't it revealed by Mr. Barbellion at the end that Silas has gone about "buying up" the debts related to the Estate. If he had come into ownership the debts would be "owned" by himself--- i.e. nothing. John in inherited the Clothier estate is relatively debt free.
I'm in my second reading of the book, and this time - the first time was some years ago - I have read and re-read sections of Mary's diary several times while going through the rest of the book. The missing pages are supposed to contain a revelation that she is very much ashamed of, but it is strange that in the rest of her story which is quite detailed, there are no clues whatsoever to the missing section. In the first part of the diary this is understandable because she is putting off the difficult part. But in the remainder of the diary, why are there no references to the missing pages? One possibility is that the missing story is less shameful than we think, which would support the seduction-by-Martin story. However, why would it be so terrible for John to read this? Another possibility is that Mary is less innocent than we think and even in her own diary is not always telling the full truth, in other words that she drops the veil just for these few pages and then resumes her innocent victim role? In this respect there are two more clues that something could be terribly wrong with Mary's past: first, the hideous story told by the Porteous family to John jr; second, the remark by the man in Mrs Purviance's house that Mary was not inexperienced when she came in. And finally, when she writes in her last entries that "he should never learn the Truth about me", are we sure that this refers only to her final stay with mrs Purviance?
I've read the novel twice from cover to cover some years ago and have been rereading bits and pieces lately. It's great to find a forum of fellow-enthusiasts!
In response to Erik's post: And let's not forget Silas Clothier's appraisal of Mary as a scheming manipulator who stood to gain by John Huffam's death in Chapter 108. Like Daniel Porteous, Clothier tells Johnnie "something further" about Mary, which Johnnie chooses to suppress in his account (916, US edition). These suppressed remarks may refer to indecent conduct on behalf of Mary (or perhaps even an earlier history of prostitution, as Erik seems to suggest); they can also have bearing on the incestuous encounter with or rape by her father John Huffam of which Johnnie is the product - a possibility hinted at several times throughout the novel.
In response to Lynka's observations, while it is true that Silas Clothier had been buying up debts, you have to recall that the estate is very dilapidated by the end of the book and that no money had been spent on it for years. Also Mr Barbellion admits that the corrupt receivers will plunder it even more and will have administration of it for years. Even if he had succeeded in inheriting the estate, Silas Clothier would have been a nonagenarian by the time it was restored to its former splendour. In response to Erik and Leon, I think it unlikely that Mary Clothier did have a shameful past, because when was her opportunity? She never left her home in Charing Cross until her marriage, and then she had to stay away from London so that she could not be found. The one who does have a shameful past is Miss Quilliam, about whose motivations many questions could be asked. Erik mentions the missing pages of Mary's diary. It could be the case that these might have thrown some light on the murder of her father, something she could not bear to think about because of the consequences for her. Could Martin Fortisquince have told her something unbearable that she did not want anybody else to know? Her shame might not have stemmed from her own actions, but she still wanted to shield her son from it. Hence the tearing out of the pages. I'm pleased this discussion is still going on with some many participating, and I look forward to reading more soon.
I agree with Brian that a shameful history of prostitution on Mary's part is highly unlikely. 'Edward's remark that Mary "knowed the trade. [...] I kin allus tell" (Ch. 48, p. 455 US edition),is the only bit of info we get that may be read as directly supporting that claim. I agree with Brian that it would seem that until her marriage she had little opportunity to do anything even remotely shameful (although his claim that "She never left her home in Charing Cross" is contradicted by Ch. 61, p. 543, where Mary describes her walks through the Charing Cross neigbourhood), but we have to remember that we have only Mary's own word for that. After the wedding/murder night you may be right that "she had to stay away from London so that she could not be found," but not necessarily so: she could be hiding in plain sight, right under the noses of her enemies (as she would do again; remember the different interpretations of the family motto!). And suppose Johnnie is indeed born in 1813 rather than in 1812 (as Michael has suggested above) then that would leave a gap of a year and a half in Mary's life between the murder night and the baptism in Melthorpe, which might have been spent in London. (Do we know when exactly Martin takes Mary to Melthorpe?)
But anyway: I agree that it is unlikely that the missing pages in the diary would have contained a confession of having not once but twice earned her living as a prostitute. I find it much more likely that they contained information about a shameful episode in her life just prior to the wedding/murder night, i.e. the fact that her husband Peter Clothier was not the father of her child. Many pieces of evidence point to Martin Fortisquince, but there is also the much more hideous possibility that it was her own father, John Huffam sr (as Sharon has suggested above and as Palliser in the 'Author's Afterword' to the Penguin edition himself admits is a possible, if unintended, interpretation). Even Brian's point against Sharon that this possibility should be dismissed entirely because Mary writes in her diary that she could not bear the thought that the father of her child had killed her papa does not rule it out entirely, I think. Brian argument is that if "the father of my child" and "my papa" would refer to one and the same person (John Huffam sr.), Mary "would be making no sense at all." But suppose we read the verb 'kill' metaphorically. Mary would then be saying something like: 'The John Huffam who had sex with me (by force?) by doing so has made it impossible for me to regard him as my father, the man I have known and trusted my entire life.' I agree this is perhaps stretching things a bit, but Mary's words here (as elsewhere) are ambiguous enough to allow for the incest-scenario as a possible alternative to the Martin Fortisquince-as-father plot.
Leon's comment has me wondering all over again: could the father be someone other than Martin? Regarding the incenst possibility, I now agree with Brian that it's unlikely, owing to Mary's horror over the father of her child killing her own father. I am no doubt forgetting some details, but was Martin ever a plausible suspect regarding the murder? I recall Peter, Jeffrey Escreet, Barney, even Jemima - but I don't recall any sincere (or noteworthy) doubt of Martin's innocence. After all, it was he who rode quickly to Hertford to tell Mary the news. And in all her writings I never had the impression that she suspected Martin. Quite the contrary; he was just about the only person she trusted. So if she never linked him to her father's murder, who is she talking about in the above-mentioned sentence?
These discussion make me plough through the book once again - and I like it! :)
Let me make my position clear: I think that the plot Palliser has in fact devised (and so cleverly hidden) indeed has Martin Fortisquince as Johnnie's biological father (and, therefore, Jeoffrey Escreet as his grandfather). However, as the man says himself in the 'Author's Afterword': "I see an novel - like anything made for publication - as a structure of possible meanings which the reader is entitled to interpret in any way that is appropriate" (1205, Penguin edition).
This means that the incest scenario with John Huffam sr. as Johnnie's father AND grandfather is one of the many possible alternatives to the solution to the mystery of Johnnie's parentage intended by Palliser when he wrote the novel. As such, it is no more 'correct' than any other solution, provided of course that the arguments presented for it are convincing enough.
With regard to the (related) mystery of the identity of the murderer of John Huffam I am a lot less sure what Palliser's intentions must have been, but here, too, there are sign pointing towards Martin F. There definitely are "sincere (or noteworthy) doubt of Martin's innocence" even if Sharon does not remember them. And Mary DOES suspect Martin; he is not "just about the only person she trusted." In her notebook she writes:
"I never gave up thinking about the mystery of Papa's murder and at the end of that first year - in the December before you were born - there was a terrible reminder of it when two families in the Ratcliffe-highway were slaughtered at night by a man who broke into their houses. I wanted to believe that the person who murdered Papa had not been Peter but someone from outside, and I wondered if it could be the same individual who had carried out those terrible crimes. But the authorities caught the man they believed responsible and he hanged himself before he came to trial, so I could never find out. As time passed I thought of many things. I suspected everybody, everybody. Peter, Mr Escreet, and even ... Oh Johnnie, I could not bear to think that the Father of my child had killed my Papa! I even feared that it was I who was responsible - though all unwittingly - for the murder of my Father and the imprisonment of my husband. That it was not his fault for his passion for me had driven him to it." (575-576, US edition)
To answer Sharon's question who Mary is talking about in the sentence discussed earlier and quoted above: I think she DOES link Martin to the murder precisely by not mentioning him explicitly ("and even ..."), but there is no way of being absolutely sure. The point is that the passage is phrased in such a way that we can never know for sure what she means exactly (and deliberately so, of course, from Palliser's point of view). The incest scenarion cannot be rules out definively for that reason. Notice how, for instance, the sentence "That it was not his fault for his passion for me had driven him to it" can both mean 'That Martin cannot be blamed for killing my father for he did it out of love for me' (or 'That Peter cannot be blamed for killing my father for he did it out of his obsessive passion bordering on insanity') and (when read slightly out of conjunction with the topic of the preceding sentence; but Mary's writing style is often rather incoherent) 'That my father cannot be blamed for raping me for he did it out of his love for me.' (Which is a perverse reading, of course, yet quite appropriate for a young Victorian woman who clearly idolizes her father.)
And come to think of it (now that I'm offering wild interpretations), even that preceding sentence can be read in such a way as to support the incest scenario: "I even feared that it was I who was responsible - though all unwittingly - for the murder of my Father and the imprisonment of my husband" can mean something like 'I let my father rape me and because of that he had to devise a scheme to trap Peter Clothier into marrying me, a scheme that ultimately led to his murder and my husband's incarceration.'
To conclude: I think the most likely and intended (intended by Palliser, that is) father of Johnnie is Martin F., who may also be the murderer of John Huffam (although here I am somewhat less sure of Palliser's intentions). But this should not refrain us from the entertaining activity of coming up with such interesting alternatives such as the incest plot for which a rich and ambiguous text as The Quincunx provides so many great opportunities.
So, does anybody else have an interesting 'overinterpretation' of these central mysteries or any other aspect of the novel? (I noticed a quite hilarious one concerning Sancious and Joey Digweed on that French site http://perso.wanadoo.fr/gix/quinconce/index :) ) I welcome all!
To judge from the most recent postings, I assume that this correspondence is now closed, as newspaper letter pages used to say. Am I right?
Sadly, I suppose so, unless someone can offer a convincing clarification to the above-mentioned mysteries. The Digweed explanations are still most unsatisfying, but I doubt the recent newcomers would have much to say to that.
Let's not close the correspondence just yet; I have just finished rereading the enitire novel and am hooked yet again...
And I think I have solved one of the minor mysteries contained in it - or rather I think I have been able to integrate one of the seemingly coincidental occurrances with the convoluted plot. As we know preciously little in Johnnie's narrative happens by coincidence; every character is somehow implicated in the plot, every meeting performs a function in the grand design. (According to Palliser's intentions; see the 'Author's Afterword' in the Penguin edition.)
With that idea in the back of my head whilst reading the novel for the third time cover to cover it suddenly struck me who 'Lushing' Lizzie really is. Lizzie, to refresh your memory, is the old beggar woman whom Johnnie and Mary meet in Chapter 49, who is with Mary in the last hours of her life, and who after Mary's death robs her corpse of its clothes (Chapter 52). After learning that Johnnie and Mary have rich friends, she goes away with no money and returns some time later with a jug of gin (466, US paperback edition). It seems likely she has contacted an agent of Clothier and has been paid for providing information concerning the whereabouts of Johnnie and Mary and the condition of the latter, since later Clothier and his agents know about Mary's death and the circumstances of her demise (see, for instance, Hinxman's taunts in one of the scenes in the asylum [674, US paperback edition]).
But Lizzie performs a further function in the plot of The Quincunx in that she is also related to several of its main characters, including Johnnie. I can't believe I missed the clues to her true identity during my first two readings (my only excuse is that the main clues are several hundreds of pages apart), but Old Lizzie is of course none other than...
Eliza Umphraville!
(i.e. the sister of John Umphraville, Miss Lydia Mompesson's lover who was killed by Jeoffrey Escreet.)
I'll explain in my next post if you are interested in details and (what is, I think,) irrefutable textual proof, but for now I am just curious to know if other readers have been more quick-witted than I have been...
Much of what I have read here has confirmed my suspicions about JHs parentage, and solved many of my outstanding questions (I particularly like the Lushing Lizzie/Eliza Umphraville twist). But the one thing that continues to baffle me is why Jemima gives up so easily at the very end? She has been particularly tenacious and evil in her pursuit of Johnnie, so why suddenly drop it? The only reason I could think of was that he reminded her of Martin in some way (but I am not convinced...).
Rest assured that we (I assume I speak for most of us) were certainly not more quick-witted than you. Lizzie is Eliza. Well. How about that. I would indeed like to hear more on the subject (i.e. your "irrefutable textual proof"). So what do you think: was Eliza John Sr's mother, or were John U and Lydia his real parents? In other words, does she rob her granddaughter of her clothes, or her great-niece?
And does it bother anyone else that Mary's mother is never, ever mentioned? It strikes me as odd in a book teeming with genealogy that he would leave out such a major character. Or did he??
Thanks to all three of the most recent contributors for reviving this discussion. Though Leon's idea is good and original, I have to express doubts about his Lizzie theory. From my recollection, John's account to her of their predicament would not have provided Lizzie with enough information to recognise John and his mother. It would not have cost much to buy the gin either, as it was cheap in those days. But with reference to the significance of apparently stray characters, I have long wondered about Mr Parminter who offers his assistance to Mary Clothier on her way to the registry office and is rebuffed, to John's puzzlement. Any views on what was in Mary's mind? The man's surname is used as one of the many aliases of John and Mary later in the book.
I finished the book today and I very much liked it. Ofcourse, I was puzzled with some of the loose ends of the story. Fortunately, I found this website.
In my opinion Martin Fortisquince is probably John Jr. 's father, for many of the reasons mentioned by other contributers. I would like to add one thought. In his accounts John describes Martin Fortisquince as unearthly kindhearted. I think it makes much sense that John gives such a positive image of his biological father. It also makes the perfect end to a book about inheritances that in the end the estate is inherited by the illigitimate son (Johnny) of the illigitimate son (Martin Fortisquince) of the illigitimate son (Jeoffrey Escreet) of a Huffam (Jeoffrey) and a Mompesson (Anna).
I also very much liked the position that John finds himself in at the end of the book. Now that he has at last become a member of the old aristocracy, he is starting to loose all the high principles he claimed himself to have. This also explaines the inscription on the statue in chapter CXXV: Et ego in arcadia, which means something like: here it used to be idyllic for me. It shows that Johnny has lost his innocence.
Also interesting is the position of Mr Barbellion. In the end of the book it turns out that whatever the outcomes, he never looses. A rather cynical twist!
At this moment I basically have two questions left.
1. Why does Mrs Fortisquince/Sancious give in so easily at the end of the book?
2. Who is the narrator in the chapters that do not have a first person narrator?
Regarding the second question, a possible answer might be Mr Pentecost of Mr Silverlight, but this is a mere guess.
To Brian,
"I have long wondered about Mr Parminter who offers his assistance to Mary Clothier on her way to the registry office and is rebuffed, to John's puzzlement. Any views on what was in Mary's mind?"
Mary knew that he was trying to pick her up as a prostitute!
Michael Levine's suggestion was the notion that struck me on my first reading of the book, but I am inclined to reject it as Mary was closely accompanied by John at the time, and it was commonly acknowledged that a young child would be an impediment to operating as a prostitute. Remember how Mrs Purviance wanted John out of the way so that 'Marigold' could live at her establishment. Also, according to John, Mr Parminter showed some surprise at Mary's reaction. Would not such a man be used to such reactions from ladies? In reply to Joris, John cannot be described as a member of the old aristocracy. His source of wealth is the Clothier inheritance and the landed estate is deeply entailed and under administration. The inscription is interesting because John realises that his recollection of younger days was faulty, and the reader might wonder how much of his narrative is to be considered in that light. I think the author is telling us that you cannot necessarily take everything as a straight fact, even when there is no deliberate attempt at deception. John will never get to the bottom of the mysteries, because any explanation will raise further questions and problems.
Great that the forum has come back to life again!
To Saskia: I like the Lizzie/Eliza twist, too, especially since it never becomes an explicit revelation and none of the characters seems to be aware of the connection between them (with the possible exception of Mary). To Brian: I am pretty sure that Palliser meant for Lizzie to be Eliza Umphraville; he just made it rather hard for his readers to spot the clues.
I think Lizzie is Eliza because (all quotations from US paperback edition):
1. The obvious connection in the names of both characters (Lizzie as an abbreviated form of Eliza), though not so obvious as to give the secret away immediately. Notice that Lizzie is included in the list of characters (as is the enigmatic Mr. Parminter who is the subject of much interesting discussion and speculation in recent posts here), which means she is of some importance. She is also listed at a safe enough alphabetical distance from Eliza Umphraville so as not to give the game away too easily.
2. Old beggar women having fallen from a more respectable position in a former life and preferably also being secretly related to one of our main characters is a frequently used plot device in 19th century/Victorian fiction and melodrama. In a novel so self-consciously parodying Victorian fiction you just cannot miss out on the opportunity of including that topos.
3. Reasons of dramatic irony.
A delirious Mary cries out "Mamma!" on her death bed and Palliser has Johnnie write that "As if in response, the old woman came across" (Ch. 50, 469). I am not arguing that Mary recognizes Lizzie as her mother (which Lizzie is not), or that Lizzie recognizes Mary as a blood relative; my point is that Palliser uses the literary convention of a character calling out for his/her dead or absent mother while in a delirium just before dying to an ironic effect (if we take Lizzie to be Eliza). Mary calls out for her mother in the company of the best thing she could ask for given the circumstances: someone who is quite possibly her grandmother. (And notice, too, how Mary hereby joins the ranks of the many characters in the novel who confuse generations - the most obvious example being Jeoffrey Escreet in Ch. 87-90.)
If we take Lizzie and Eliza to be one and the same Johnnie's answer to Mrs Lillystone's question (Ch. 52) if there is a relative with his mother's body acquires a nice touch of irony, too. "Not a relative," Johnnie answers her, "An old woman" (481).
It is fitting that in a novel where nearly every character in one way or another has tried or is trying to rob family members of their (supposed) possessions, that Mary's corpse should be robbed by exactly that: a family member (as opposed to a 'stray character' as Brian put it).
4. But, next to all these plot-related reasons (Lizzie being Eliza makes for a 'better,' more tightly constructed plot) there is also the "irrefutable textual proof" I promised earlier. Here is how Lizzie describes her past life to Johnnie and Mary:
"Why, my Guyneys, when Lizzie as a gel she was in high keeping. She kept company at Mother Kelly's in Arlington-street. She was on the Town then. Why she was kept by a baronet's son [...]. She lodged in Bond-street and rode down 'Dilly in her carriage dressed in a silk-gownd, and didn't all the folks stare at handsome Lizzie then! [...] But he died shoreditch for he was foul of the strawberries - the only marks of a baronet that he lived to show, poor devil! - or I might have been a Lady." (465)
Of the antecedents of the Umphravilles we learn next to nothing, and Eliza in particular remains a shadowy figure. Jeoffrey Escreet says he "hardly knew" her (742). Our main source for information about Eliza is Lydia Mompesson, who was once the lover of Eliza's brother John. During Johnnie's third meeting with Miss Lydia she tells him that Jeoffrey Huffam "opposed the marriage of his son, James, to Eliza Umphraville," and whereas on an earlier occasion she did not tell "the whole truth about that" matter, she proceeds to do so now:
"I am afraid, John, that your great-grandfather, James, was a drunken and dissolute spendthrift, although he had great charm. The real reason for my grandfather's [i.e. Jeoffrey Huffam's] opposition to his [James Huffam's] marriage to Eliza Umphraville was that she had been openly kept by him for some years. He had seduced her when she was hardly more than a child, but she was a very fast young woman who had little regard for modesty. Later on, the fact that she had been his concubine was exploited as proof against their ever having married." (868)
O.K., so perhaps this is not irrefutable proof (hey, I was excited about my 'discovery'!...), but it is undeniable that these two stories, although 400 pages apart, nice fit together. So nicely in fact that I think we are intended to conclude that Lizzie and Eliza are one and the same person. We learn from Jemima Fortisquince that James' father Jeoffrey Huffam indeed "had begun to be received at Court and had hopes for a title" (996). We do not learn if he succeeded, I believe, but if he didn't (and remained a prospective Baronet only) Lizzie is simply boasting when she calls James the son of a baronet.
To my mind this clinches the matter of Lizzie/Eliza. Please feel free to disagree violently. :)
I haven't figured out Lizzie/Eliza's exact relationship to Mary. As Sharon rightly remarked she can be either Mary's grandmother (though I don't believe we ever get any evidence that she and James Huffam actually had a child together [John Huffam]), or her great-aunt.
Sharon's point about Mary's mother being so conspicuously absent from the story (about the only thing we learn is that she died when she [Mary] was "very young" [Ch. 61, 543]) has made me wonder how much more ironic Mary's death would be if Lizzie/Eliza actually IS the mother she calls out for in her delirium...
In response to Joris:
Yes, I also think that the Chapters in which Johnnie is not our narrator, are in fact narrated and written by Pentecost and Sliverlight (so that what at first appears as typical Dickensian omniscient narration turns out to be not omniscient, but from the perspective of two of the characters within the narrative world itself - this means of course that their perspective is just as trustworthy or untrustworthy as that of Johnnie's).
In fact, the idea of Pentecost and Silverlight collaboratively writing a book pops up in Ch. 36 of the novel itself (pp. 317-318, US paperback ed.). The Quincunx itself, then, is the proof that Pentecost and Silverlight followed Miss Quilliam's suggestion that they should work together.
"Mr Silverlight could take responsibility for describing the motives of the characters (particularly, of course, in the upper ranks) while you, Mr Pentecost, could concentre your talents upon the elements of plotting and intrigue." (318)
(On the basis of this suggestion you can decide which chapter is narrated by whom, Pentecost or Silverlight.)
By the way: did you notice the system in the division of narrative duties throughout the novel? They follow exactly the "tinctures" (colors) in the pattern of the 'quincunx of quincunxes' on the invitation to the ball to celebrate the marriage of Hugo Mompesson and Alice Huffam Johnnie finds on the dead body of Lydia Mompesson (887, see also 872-877) which helps him to open the hidden safe in the mantlepiece sporting the same design (included at the back of every edition of the novel). Pentecost and Silverlight are represented in the scheme by black bud or petals, Johnnie by white ones, and the other two narrators who get to take center stage for 4 chapters each (Miss Quilliam [Ch. 37-40], Mary [61-65, i.e. 5 chapters] and Jeoffrey Escreet [Ch. 87-90]) by red ones. Every quatrefoil in the design represents one of the 5 books in every one of the 5 parts of the novel. Every petal and every bud represents one of the 5 chapters of each book. If you start with the bud of each quatrefoil the sequence of narrators follows the color scheme exactly. The ambiguous tincture of the bud of the central quatrefoil corresponds to the missing pages in Mary's diary which are at the heart of the central mystery in the novel. As Mr. Silverlight had already said: "In any novel I collaborated upon everything would be part of the whole design – down even to the disposition and numbering of the chapters." (318)
Brian, I respectfully disagree on that point. It is quoted somewhere(I'll find out exactly where later) that "a young pretty girl in London need never want" (or something like that)...
And finally, in response to Brian's latest post where he writes that "John will never get to the bottom of the mysteries, because any explanation will raise further questions and problems":
Quite right! And this is also connected to the use of the figure of the quincunx. As a structuring device to bring order and design to Johnnie's life story the quincunx pattern, from our perspective, fails: we do not get final answers and explanations for everything.
Throughout the novel the quincunx pattern, when we encounter it in garden designs, mantle pieces, mosaics etc., has the effect of disorienting and confusing Johnnie, because the center of the design does not hold (as in the pattern of tiles on the floor of the Old Hall "making black and white lozenges like endlessly proliferating and ramifying quincunxes [...] whose centre changed as [Johnnie] advance[s]." [975]) or is actually absent (as in the cenral tree in the quincunx of trees at the Estate). So, rather than offering Johnnie the reassurance of 'patterned-ness' he so desperately wants to find in the events that he gets involved in, the quincunx figure stands metaphorically for the endless deferral of a final solution and the proliferation of possible meanings, stories and interpretations. As Johnnie reflects in the final chapter:
"How much more I knew and understood now than when I had last looked upon this place before our flight to London! And yet there was still so much that was mysterious. I had been told and had overheard so many stories since then - Mrs Belflower's, Miss Quilliam's, my mother's, Mr Escreet's, Miss Lydia's - and had heard so many lies and inconsitencies and distortions and omissions." (1015)
Leon,
Your find about Lizzie is the most intriguing one to be uncovered in a long time.
Lets estimate ages. Escreet, and the Umprhravilles are at marriageable age, lets say around 20, when Umphraville is killed. Escreet is now around 90 (at Marys death), so the toothless old hag could be about that age. No inconsistancy!!!
Michael.....Simply brilliant!!...
Thanks for doing the math, Michael! I hadn't really taken the matter of age into account, but I'm glad your calculations (which are correct) support my thesis.
From Leon:
"It seems likely she has contacted an agent of Clothier and has been paid for providing information concerning the whereabouts of Johnnie and Mary and the condition of the latter, since later Clothier and his agents know about Mary's death and the circumstances of her demise (see, for instance, Hinxman's taunts in one of the scenes in the asylum [674, US paperback edition])."
I dont think that Lizzie conveyed this info to Clothier. After Marys demise, Johnnie had no other place to go, but to Bellringer. He told Henry of his Mothers death, but didnt directly reveal who he himself was, just "John".
We know later, that Bellringer knows all too many people associated with Chancellery and the finance guys like Clothier, and later sells the fake will to Clothier. So I believe Bellringer could have been the one to convey that info to Clothier.
That assumes that Bellringer knew who Johnnie really was. Well he knew that he was on the same farm as Stephan, and its not implausable that Jemima, did have contact with her first husbands nephew, Henry Bellringer.
So my thesis is Lizzie did not contact anyone.
Bellringer deduced that Johnnie was Huffam from info supplied by Jemima.
And Bellringer conveyed this to Clothier.
From recollection, I think the quotation Michael is looking for are the words of one of the women employed in a clothing sweat-shop who wants to console Mary for being unsuccessful in looking for work. Though I don't agree with his interpretation of Mr Parminter, I do agree with his most recent posting about Lizzie in Mitre Court. Two points I want to make to Leon. He says that nearly every character is trying to rob family members. Are we then to speculate that Mrs Popplestone and her son are in some way connected with other characters? Leon also makes excellent points about the quincunx pattern, but it should be pointed out that the pattern is wrecked. The chart at the end of the book shows not five, but six family lines. His explanation of the fivefold narrative (pardon the infelicity of the expression, gentle readers) does illuminate the structure of the book. The author himself wrote in his afterword that readers had failed to appreciate the 5x5x5=125 design of the chapters. A final thought in this posting. Has anybody given much thought to the quotation from Quintilian before the first chapter? Maybe it is more relevant than it looks. What a lot of postings have been written since my question of 29 May, and I was only angry at the stupid advertisements! Hope to read more soon.
I read and reread chapter 29. Parminter gives Mary and Johnnie directions and condolances about being a governess, then offers her, his assistance. Mary cuts it off...and Parminter is seen by Johnnie, looking at them with "an expression...of mild amusement"...not surprise. Like a confident womanizer, who is not used to rejection, but feigns amusement to save face!!!
Tell me what else there could be to this, I dont see a thing!!!
Leon,
Check out Chapter 61, 19th. of December!
Mary's entry in the diary states
"You see, My Grandfather had died when Papa was only a few months old and then his mother died
when he was a small child...".
This kills the theory about Lizzie unless we disregard the accuracy of Mary's knowledge of past events!
I also do not think that Lizzie = Eliza. The reason for this is that Lizzie speaks slang (at least in the Dutch translation I read), which a lady like Eliza would probably not do.
This quote also kills the theory that John Sr. is actually the child of Lydia and John Umpraville, unless Mary believes Lydia to be dead. Of course Mary could just as well think Eliza dead, too, I suppose. Was there ever a third possible mother for John Sr. in the running?
Ah, great! Discussion about my Lizzie-Eliza thesis! :)
In response to Michael: But of course we have to doubt what Mary lets Johnnie know about her family's past! It makes perfect sense that she wouldn't mention her grandmother lived on as a low-life prostitute after her grandfather's death. That is, if she knows about that fact in the first place. For do you think John Huffam Sr. or any other family member would have told her the truth in the first place? We can safely assume that after James' death from a venereal disease in impoverished circumstances, Eliza very soon became dead to her late husband's (extended)family as well and had to take up her old profession.
In response to Joris: But Eliza Umphraville was not a 'lady' at all (except in the sense of 'a lady of the night' of course :)); that was precisely the problem Jeoffrey Huffam had with his son James's marriage to her! Like I said, we know almost nothing about the antecedents of the Umphravilles (Eliza and her brother John), but we do know they were considered not to be of the proper 'stock' to marry into the Huffam and the Mompesson families. They were not gentry. And "wild young" Eliza was working as a "concubine" at that! Also, decades of life in the trade in the slums of London have not done much to improve Lizzie's English either of course... :)
As for Michael's suggestion that it was Bellringer rather than Lizzie who informed Clothier and his henchmen of (the circumstances of) Mary's death: that is a certainly a possibility. But Lizzie's behaviour in Mitre Court is undeniably very suspicious and does require an explanation: she asks Johnnie for money, which he hasn't got either, and after learning that he and Mary have rich friends she hurries off only to returns later that night with a jug of gin for which she must have paid something... Well, perhaps Lizzie got lucky and found herself a customer, even though she must be in her eighties... I'm sure there was a market for that sort of thing :)
In response to Brian: Nah, I don't think Mrs Popplestone and her son are somehow connected to other characters; they merely serve the plot function of speeding up the process of Johnnie and Mary's 'Verelendung' right from the start at their arrival in London. They are just a case of 'bad luck', not part of some conspiracy or even of Clothier's eloborate network of criminals and petty thieves. But feel free to link them up with either; I look forward to any theory underpinned by quotes and valid arguments. It is strange, by the way, that the Popplestones are not listed in the list of characters, whereas other 'walk-on parts' are: Lizzie, for one. And Mr. Parminter (who, I agree with Michael, is quite obviously meant to be a pimp trying to recruit Mary). And there is also Luke, the orphaned street urchin who helps Johnnie to some food in return for the ring Henrietta has given him. And speaking of Luke and his appearance in the list of characters: here we have a likely candidate for yet another seemingly stray character turning out to be somehow sharing a family connection with our hero, if you ask me... The fact that Palliser has Luke explicitly mentioning he does not know who his parents are, right before Johnnie hands him a ring worn by Henrietta's mother Louisa (maiden name unkown, but starting with an 'R') would seem to point us in the direction of the Palphramond family. (Dramatic irony again, and the typically Victorian plot device of a poor orphan coming unwittingly in the possession of a gem that belonged to a dead or long-lost mother.)But I am completely in the dark as to how Luke and Henrietta can possibly be related... Brother and sister perhaps? Did the Mompessons only take in the female Palphramond descendant after their parents' death and did they have the boy sent out for adoption? But why? And what concrete textual evidence do we have? But then again: I probably am way too paranoid a reader when it concerns such seemingly loose ends as a character who features in one scene only - a scene that has no narrative function in the plot at all... This may actually be one of those very few chance meetings in the novel.
Leon,
My thoughts on your suggestions:
1."doubt what Mary lets Johnnie know about her family's past" - I always believed that Mary was confiding that she was kept by Martin in the missing pages of the diary, so its unlikly that she considered her familys past, and not revealing it to Johnnie.
2."That is, if she knows about that fact in the first place." - true , she might be misinformed on this.
3. "Eliza very soon became dead to her late husband's (extended)family " - a definite possibility, after all Mary was a little girl at the time of her Grandmothers death, she could have been told anything.
Sharon,
My proposed thesis regarding Lydia and John Umphraville's stolen child is that it was given to James and Eliza as the Huffam heir by Jeoffrey and the blackmailed Hugo.
Mary would still have believed Eliza was the mother of her father, so her knowledge of her Grandmothers death doesnt change anything about Lydias baby...( I think).
Three more questions:
1. The papers report that "Baronet Flees After Death of Cousin in Duel, later it states "remote connexion". Chap 122, after Bellinger is killed by David Mompesson. How does anyone know that they were cousins? Do they mean the are related thru Bellringer's Aunt Caroline's first marriage to Maliphant???
2. Who did Barney Murder?
3. Why do so many people seem to know that Fortisquince was the Father of Johnnie. Martin seemed to try to keep that under wraps?
Correction regarding how Clothier knew that Mary died!!
ch59: Johnnie recounts his Mothers death to Sam, Barney and Nan.
ch66: Sanctious reveals to Clothier's delight that the Mother but not the son is dead.
Of couse we knew that Barney is Sanctious' main informant and criminal agent.
Turns out I was slightly wrong in my response to Joris: We DO learn something about the Umphravilles' antecedents (from Lydia Mompesson). They are "an ancient land-owning family who had held property in Yorkshire for almost as long as the Huffams, and certainly longer than the Mompessons" (855, US paperback ed.).
So I was wrong in saying that they were not gentry. However, by the time John (did you realize he was "in holy orders"? [855]) and Eliza enter our story, the Umphravilles "had lost most of their land and all of their money, for the father of John and Eliza was a drunkard and a spendthrift who, having driven their mother to an early death, himself died while they were children" (855).
I was right in suggesting that Jeoffrey Huffam "believed that Eliza was not rich or well-born enough to be allied with his family," though (856). And my point that after practically a lifetime on the streets of London Lizzie, born in poverty though descended from an ancient land-owning family, would not speak 'lady-like' still stands of course.
In response to Michael's latest post: whether it was Bellringer or Barney Digweed who informed Clothier of Mary's death - and I'd say after your latest post Barney is the more likely option - you have to take into account that Clothier's henchman Hinxman has told Peter Clothier "often and often enough" what has become of his beloved Mary: "Turned w---- and died mad" (676). (And for "w----" of course read 'whore'.)
Upon hearing these words Johnnie looks at Hinxman's "jeering face" and "[can] not tell if he had spoken merely at hazard" (676). So, it looks like Clothier has been informed about the PRECISE circumstances of Mary's demise. I haven't checked yet, but I think it unlikely Johnnie told these exact circumstances to either Bellringer or Barney.
This means there must have been another link in the chain of information leading from someone in contact with Mary in the last weeks of her life to Clothier and via him to Hinxman... And you have to admit Lizzie fits that bill rather nicely. (She does not know whom she is betraying of course; as a regular of the Rookery at Mitre Court she merely knows that the owner of her 'lodgings' [whom we can infer is Clothier] is looking for a young woman and a boy with connections to people with money. And in Johnnie and Mary she meets a couple fitting that description perfectly...)
Unless of course you think that Hinxman is indeed making it up just to taunt Peter and just happens to be right on the spot.
snip("Mitre Court she merely knows that the owner of her 'lodgings' [whom we can infer is Clothier])
1. Ashburner, I believe is Clothiers rent collector.
2. Its very unclear how much detail Johnnie reveals to Nan and Barney in his "narrative" about his Mothers death(ch 59), but I doubt he mentioned her last occupation and her illness.
However I believe Hinxman was just tormenting Peter with his remarks, although by that time Clothier and thus Hinxman knew that she was dead. Lizzie wouldnt have known that she was a w---- either!
3. I still believe that its still a possibility that Lizzie is Eliza, and that her death was fabricated to the young Mary.
Quoting Leon above:
"We do not learn if he succeeded, I believe, but if he [Jeoffrey] didn't (and remained a prospective Baronet only) Lizzie is simply boasting when she calls James the son of a baronet"
The Son of a Baronet, Lizzie may be referring to, could be Sir Hugo Mompesson, and not James. There are several references to that affair being used as blackmail to take Lydias baby!!!
It looks as if anybody who wants can post irrelevant matter on this site. Have readers and contributors noticed a similar problem elsewhere on the internet? To make a quick point to Leon about his posting of 7 June, it is clear that Hinxman is fond of taunting because he tells Peter that he had committed the murder with an axe, which is so far off the mark that even Peter can contradict him, and then Rookyard tries to say that using a sword made the crime even worse, a statement that is designed to cause even more pain to a man in torment. I think Mr Nolloth offers the view that the purpose of Dr Alabaster's establishment is to drive people mad if they are not already so. There is plenty more I could write on other topics, but time does not allow.
I hate to sound like a broken record, but I am still curious as to just whose money the Digweeds were counting at the table the night Johnnie woke up and saw them. Was someone in fact paying them for his keep, as he for a time suspected? And, if so, who? I can't believe that scene was merely to fill empty space, seeing as how meaningful even the tiniest tidbits seem to be.
You have come back to a big unanswered question, and nobody so far has offered any suggestion. In addition, one might ask how John's escape from Dr Alabaster's establishment was organised, because it shows great ingenuity and worked even though John himself was not in on it. One approach might be to ask which parties had most to gain (or lose) from John's confinement and probable death in the place, but then there is the problem of who had knowledge of the Digweeds, besides their immediate family.
Could I raise a completely different question? Can anybody offer a suggestion as to how Mrs Bissett was contacted before her appearance at the wedding of Henrietta and Henry Bellringer? It is clear she was duped by Bellringer's forgery, but how did he know of her and her whereabouts?
I'm pleased the extraneous advertising has been removed. Somebody must be reading us.
Somebody must be reading us, but few seem to be writing. Purely out of interest, how many contributors have an edition of the book with the inset maps from the 1813 Horwood map of London? As this is a novel with many imponderables, I have wondered why some editions have these interspersed and some have not. One thing is certain though: John Huffam clearly states that the map was published the year after his birth, which confirms he was born in 1812. If anyone has a suggestion about Sharon's last question, I'd be interested to read it.
Sharon and Brian,
I've reread the parts of the book after the rescue from the Asylum very carefully. Johnnie is very suspicious of the Digweed's motives. He mentions the costs of his stay, maybe 5 or six times. Eventually he starts to believe that he was wrong, after his relationships with all the Digweeds show themselves to be most trustworthy. Mrs. Digweed treats him as a mother, because of her obligation to Mary in Melthorpe. George risks his life and freedom and gives up his life assisting Johnnie, and Joey, finally admits all his wrongdoing, and becomes Johnnies most trusted associate later, at Bellringers and Henriettas wedding.
There also doesnt seeem to be anyone who would have any contact with the Digweeds, except for Barney and they hate him since he cheated them.
All of the people out to do Johnnie harm, Clothiers, Mompessons, Sanctious, Fortiquince, Barbellian, Bellringer, and Barney, all have no connection to the Digweeds.
The money they were counting, could easily be and most likely was, the nightly take from the "shores".
Im sorry, but I'm satisfied that there is nothing in this theory.
Brian,
"Can anybody offer a suggestion as to how Mrs Bissett was contacted before her appearance at the wedding of Henrietta and Henry Bellringer? It is clear she was duped by Bellringer's forgery, but how did he know of her and her whereabouts?"
Mompessons-Barbellion-Bisset
Thomas or David Mompesson might have asked Barbellion, (their Lawyer) if he knew of a Chaperone(or whatever they call it) in the area. Barbellion already had Bisset on the payroll, earlier in the book!
I finished 'The Quincunx' on Sunday and have read this site with interest. I tend to believe everything I read, and so the last chapter came as a total shock. I had, however, worked out about Martin Fortisquince being the father. I also reckon he was the murderer of John senior. He was presumably in love with Mary, and wanted to pin the murder on Peter.
The minor question that is puzzling me concerns Pentecost. I agree that he is one of the author's of the book (the 'hidden sixth' refered to in the author's afterword). However, in Mary's diary, it appears that he has died in debtors' prison. Also, Mary changes her opinion of him, but without any explanation why. Does anyone have any theories?
Also, in the author's afterword is a suggestion that John is a blood relation to the Digweeds, but I haven't worked out how.
A response to the last of Ben's points. When John has a look at the old Huffam memorial in the churchyard, one of the families mentioned on it is Feverfew. George Digweed later tells John of a relative of his who was an excellent sculptor, and his name was Feverfew. Thus John and the Digweeds could well be distantly related. A comment on the 'hidden sixth' - my understanding was that it refers to the illegitimate line through Escreet and Fortisquince that breaks the quincunx pattern, but the quincunx pattern does underly the 'authorship' of the chapters, so I would not dismiss his notion. If Ben gives the novel another read, he will probably modify some of his original impressions. For instance, I doubt if many of those contributing to this discussion would select Fortisquince as the likeliest murderer of John Huffam senior, though a case could be made out. This book is not one to be read just once, but it is interesting to hear what the first time reader thinks. I've mulled over many of the problems in its plot and construction without coming to any definite conclusion, other than that solutions will raise further difficulties, and that, like John himself, the reader will never get to the bottom of it.
In the shower this morning, I had a thought about who is paying the Digweeds to keep John (if anyone). Could it be Jemima? It is in her interests that Silas dies before John. She has close connections to Sancious, who has close connections to Barney, who has close connections to the Digweeds. Therefore, she will want to see John rescued from the asylum, and Sancious will know that John has gone to the asylum, because Clothier will have told him.
The rescue from the asylum is one of the few events that seems like a genuine coincidence. Not in the rescue per se, but the details. Isn't it a little convenient that Mrs. Digweed happens to be skilled at laying corpses out and is employed at exactly the same time that Peter Clothier has died? Or am I missing something.
I also have a theory about Mr. Parminter, who I bookmarked when reading, thinking "He will be important later on". In Palliser's notes at the end, he comments that the book was about twice its published length on first draft. Perhaps Parminter did have a role to play in the excluded narrative, and had to be sacrificed in the final version. The character had to be kept in though, as John later takes his name to hire a room. Otherwise, the meeting strikes of a false significance. I know this is a fairly rubbish explanation, but is the best I can come up with.
If I may bring up another thread . . .
One of the things that comes up again and again in the novel in "hazard". Along those lines, there are references to playing only with loaded dice (though a different term is used for that) The fortune was originally lost in a game by that name. Mary's mother tells her son that she chose a particular surname at hazard. I elieve there may have been other such references.
Another pattern: the woman pregnant with one man's child marrying another one that she does not get to live with. What happened to Mary reoccurs in Henrietta's case, which could be a reason why John drops her (in addition to the Victorian idea of not being able to love a woman who was not pure). She says, "He seduced me," which could refer to Henry, but also to David. He's the one she seems most attached to. But if she already knew she was pregnant, she may have had reasons of her own to marry Henry than his apparent (and very sudden) feeling for her.
That is a parallel to Mary and Peter. Perhaps old Clothier is right that she duped him, for she could not marry the father her child (Martin had already married Jemima). And of course that would explain why Clothier is so ruthless about the boy listed as his own grandson.
On a sep. issue: I can't grasp what motive Sanctious would have besides money. He seems to have no family vendetta issue like the other characters do.
Another observation: the novel has some hints of anti-Semitisim, which is, admittedly consistent with its Dickensian orientation. The Jews appear as the stereotyped pawnbrokers.
I recall one sentence that suggests that the arch-villain of the novel -- Silas Clothier -- is of Jewish extraction. There was a reference to a name change from Abraham (or some derivative of that name -- I don't have the novel in front of me).
Thank you to Ben for the suggestion about who is paying the Digweeds for John's keep. It seems improbable to me that the Digweeds have much money to live on, because the toshing business seems to be precarious. And another thank you for the suggestion about Mr Parminter, who makes a fleeting appearance and yet appears in the list of characters at the back. If he is simply trying to pick Mary up as a prostitute, it seems strange that he is listed. In regard to Ariella's last point, there is no doubt at all that Silas Clothier is Jewish. Both Mr Sancious and Mr Escreet make it clear, and the former takes Clothier aback by remarking on his 'Christian fortitude'. But I don't see any anti-Semitism in the novel, nor can I see Clothier as the arch-villain, because it is clear that he does believe he has some claim to the estate, and that he has been cheated. He is by no means the only one to want John Huffam dead.
Ive mentioned several times about the circumstantial evidence that leads me to believe that Lydia is John Huffam Sr's. real Mother and that Umphraville was the father, before he was killed by Escreet.....
Here is something new I found!
In chapter 99, Lydia offers Johnnie some money to assist with his aspirations with laying the suppressed will to the courts...
she says over Johnnie's objections after he says "I cannot accept it", she responds "Yes you can, for Henrietta's sake, if not your own. And for mine and John Umphravilles's".
Umphraville's ancient name is pulled out of the air once again!!
I am more and more convinced that she is assisting John Huffams Sr and Jr, with reclaiming their estate, because she is Huffam's Mother, and not simply for fairness and discord with the Mompessons!
Michael's view has something to recommend it, as it would fit in well with the other strands of the novel. If John Umphraville is the true father of John Huffam Snr, then he is the true great-grandfather of John Huffam Jnr, and therefore in the duel at Hougham the latter's great-grandfather was killed by his grandfather, which most would agree Mr Escreet to be. It would tie up well if we knew Mr Escreet to be the murderer of John Huffam Snr, but the mystery of that death is probably the biggest problem in understanding the book. Incidentally, how does John Jnr know the exact date of the 1770 will which he wishes to establish? He has certainly never seen it, and cannot be absolutely certain that it is still in existence.
Hi Brian,
We know that Johnnie comes to the conclusion that Escreet killed Huffam Sr. Johnnie says in chapter 122 after Escreet kills Sanctious..."..for by his action Escreet had surely confessed to the murder( of Huffam) in a manner more impossible to retract than any words".
Johnnie also says in the last chapter when reflecting on his relationship with Henrietta...
"...if I was not the son of a man who had committed murder (Peter Clothier).....then I was at least the grandson of one (Escreet)"
Im convinced that all the murders were done by Escreet!!!
Escreet probably was the murderer, but he denies it at a time when lying will not do him any good, and Mr Nolloth seems to incline to the view that it might have been committed by somebody from outside the house. John's conclusions are not always the only ones that can be reached, as the author himself remarked in his Afterword. It is one of the attractions of the novel that some of the neat conclusions can be questioned. Michael's last quotation is open to more than one interpretation, depending on which names one fits into (Michael's) brackets.
A quincunx was also a very popular machine in the time the novel is describing: see wikipedia:
For Sir Francis Galton's machine for demonstrating the normal distribution named "quincunx", see bean machine.
This machine gives a mathematical explanation on patterns or chance. A beam may go left or right 50% chance. So with the novel there are more solutions to solve the murderers...
Design or chance is also a recurring theme in the book!!!
To add to the last posting, the observations made are borne out by the quotation from Quintilian before the first chapter, which says that whichever way you look at a quincunx, it is the right way up.
A new enquirer arrives!
The descent of Johnnie from Escreet via Martin is persuasive. I would also like to think that John Huffam is the son of Lydia and Umphraville, because then every one of Johnnie's male forbears would than also be illegitimate. That is a delightfully ironic comment on Victorian fiction. But the argument/evidence for this is surely thin: can someone summarise what I have missed here.
Escreeet is indeed central to the story, being the pivot of much birth. death and deceipt. His murder of John Huffam (convincingly mirrored, despite his denials, in the murder of Sancious) follows precisely the pattern of his murder of Umphraville.
There is, however, one aspect of that earlier murder that I cannot follow. Lydia must have known Escreet well - they are about the same age and lived in the same place. But on p1010 (UK edition) she says: "I saw [the killer of Umpraville's] face full in the moonlight. I did not recognize him. I am sure I would have known him if I had ever seen him ..... most of all I was struck by the expression. I have never forgotten it: such a terrible picture of suffering on such a young face." What is all that about? And why the emphasis on the suffering?
Just got back from two weeks in Brittany having galloped breathlessly through the Quincunx, swept away by the breadth of the detail, plot density and all the other reasons that are evidenced by the compelling posts above. I'm going to re-read the darned thing, beginning next week, and this time pay attention! In the meantime, due to my passion for geometric shapes and their relevance to everyday lives, I'd like to make a suggestion about the complex web of relationships between almost all of the characters in the book. The shape of a quincunx allows it to be symmetrical and 'true' whichever way up you view it - but is there a name for a 3D quincunx? That is, a cube with eight dots at the corners with a central point? In the accursed 'Afterword' (which I'm beginning to regret ever having read now!) the author refers to the attraction of some kind of 'empty centre', like the burnt pages of Mary's journal. With so many apparent coincidences, and with so many ways of viewing the central issue, I suspect that a 3D quincunx would be a helpful way of analysing the plot. One could place any of the major themes in the book at the very centre and rotate away to one's heart's content - themes such as trust, hazard, parentage, charity, and so on. I've tried not to forget that the author is playing with us throughout the entire piece - abiding by the conventions of the Victorian novel (where coincidence would be seen as Divine Providence and much enjoyed by the audience) while teasing us with the flavours of almost-incomplete and half-hinted modern prose. I would love to imagine holding a transparent cube, spinning it in my hands, reading the central point differently through each of the six faces; where one face would be through a traditional Victorian glass and yet another through a modern glaze; and yet others through a mix of perspectives.
Many thanks for all the provocative thoughts, very helpful for first-time readers like myself. I shall follow with interest...
Interesting debate.
It seems to me that Martin Fortisquince as John's father is as near certain as anything is in this novel. Here's another piece of textual evidence that I don't think has yet been cited in this discussion. Up until the point of the missing pages in Mary's account, she refers to Fortisquince as 'Uncle Martin'. After the missing pages, presumably containing Mary's confession regarding John's father, Fortisquince is referred to by Mary simply as 'Martin'. No more 'Uncle'.
Also, regarding the theory of Escreet as Martin Fortisquince's father - Lydia says, of Martin Fortisquince's mother: 'She and her husband were estranged a few months after the events I am speaking of and that is when she went to Melthorpe. It was suspected that she knew something of the stanger (ie Escreet). In short, that...And she believed the statue saved his life. But never mind.'
What is Lydia about to say when she stops herself? That Fortisquince's mother and Escreet were having/had had an affair?
I'm glad the discussion is still going, it's a fascinating puzzle of a book.
I agree that Escreet is Martin's father and that Martin is Johnnie's father, although it's not quite clear when Johnnie was conceived. Possibly a detailed timeline of the events in the book would make that clearer - has anyone constructed one?
The main mystery to me is who killed Mary's father. The events of the night of the murder are described by
Martin (as reported second-hand in Mary's journal)
Peter (as reported second-hand by Nolloth)
Peter (directly to Johnnie)
Jemima (overheard by Johnnie)
Escreet (or at least he comments on Jemima's description)
The accounts vary somewhat, but what seems clear is that Peter received the package from Escreet, and at that point the blood-soaked money must have been in the package. This must mean that Mary's father was already dead, Escreet knew it, and was trying to frame Peter.
But Escreet claims to Jemima that he didn't commit the murder, and Jemima admits to Johnnie that she was only guessing about what happened.
She says something like "bluntly, I never believed that your father was the murderer", and I can only make sense of "bluntly" if she is referring to Martin. She saw Peter and knows he didn't do it, but she couldn't see what Martin and Escreet were doing.
I tend to believe that Escreet didn't (directly) commit the murder, but I think he must have planned it. He payed someone (Barney?) to do it, but was double-crossed and attacked as well by the murderer, who then took the will back to the Mompessons. Because otherwise, I can't see why Escreet would have wanted the will to leave his possession ("where it belongs").
Another question I have is why Martin married Jemima? Was it simply that she wanted to marry a lawyer with some means, in order to be able to pursue her own interest in the Chancery case?
John was born Feb7, 1812 same as Dickens...the year is known because of Advowsons entry on the Baptism certificate about the victory by Lord Wellsley!
See notes above!
I agree wholeheartedly with Chris that the murder of John Huffam senior is the biggest mystery in the book. The notion that it was planned by Escreet and carried out by Barney is plausible, and I think Escreet's denial of having committed the deed when he had nothing much to lose by admitting it might be accepted as true. As to when John junior was conceived, I should be inclined to go for the evening when Martin Fortisquince came to the Blue Dragon from London to see her with tidings of Peter. If he seduced her then it would be mirrored well by the later seduction of Henrietta by Henry Bellringer in the very same room. The novel abounds with repetitions. The matter of a timeline is a tricky one because there are very few definite dates in the narrative, and many incomplete ones. If you want a guess, John was born in 1812 and the novel ends in 1832 or 1833. For those who read French, there is a detailed, and in my view erroneous timechart on http://perso.wanadoo.fr/gix/quin-personnages.htm and a huge amount of discussion and dissection of the plot. Some of the material on the site is based on false assumptions, one of them being that John was born in 1813. The arguments put forward for this view cite John's small stature and also that Sir George Rose's Act establishing procedures for registration of births was passed in 1812 and did not come into force till 1813. The argument for 1812 is much stronger, as mentioned by Michael Levine and myself.
Brian - regarding Martin's fatherhood of Jonnnie (forgive me for being well behind in the detailed discussion) something jumped out at me towards the end. Bottom of page 1083 (end of third para in Chapter 111) he expresses his frustration that 'English mercantile life was a vast system of uncles, nephews, friends and neighbours from which I was excluded.' I understand now that due to his rather vague paternity, he would prefer to use 'uncles and nephews' as his primary reference to family ties, when 'father and son' would have been more natural. Perhaps only a fragment of evidence but I'm warming to the idea of Martin being his father. It's not entirely clear when Peter and Mary could have conceived anyway, is it? Chris - could Martin have sought to cover the indignity of his liaison with Mary by marrying Jemima and distancing himself from the whole episode? His conscience wouldn't let him rest, so he continued to support Mary, as catalogued through the early part of the text.
It's a pain having to try to recall details, without a full re-reading - isn't it?
I'm glad to see we're getting some discussion going!
On the subject of Johnnie's conception, I've been re-reading Mary's journal account of what happened.
Mary states that her marriage was on May 05, and given that Johnnie was born on Feb 07 of the following year, I think that rules out any affair between Martin and Mary before the wedding leading to the conception.
Also, I don't think Martin seduced her in Hertford - her description of that night doesn't leave any time for it, and in any case when she wrote this passage in the journal she'd already written about how Johnnie was conceived (in the pages she later ripped out), so there was no need to try and conceal it here.
I think it must have happened when Martin set her up in the cottage in Melthorpe, where she says "... he escorted me there and made me mistress of the house ... and we gave out that I had been recently widowed and that Martin was my late husband's Father. Thank heavens I have already told you about all of this and need not go into it again"
I think this implies that Martin was living there with Mary, otherwise why have to explain that Martin was "my late husband's Father"?
Brian: I think you are mistaken about Henry Bellringer seducing Henrietta at Hertford. The way I read it, Henrietta had already had an affair with David Mompesson, and it's his child she bears, not Henry's. There is various textual evidence for this, e.g. Henrietta says (about Henry) "He said that David's engagement showed how little he cared!", which Johnnie misunderstands. And also, she goes to live in Calais in the end, where David went into exile.
There is annoying lack of dates and ages ( of people) in this novel. I kept guessing as to the age of the principal characters when I first read this book. On the subsequent reading I am trying to pay more attention to this and again, it seems as though, the lack of this information is deliberatem and yet there are some clues to figuring ages and dates out only if you are paying very close attention.
I believe Johnnie to be 5 years old at the start of the novel, Mary 22 ?? Any thoughts?
deb, just look at the diary entries, and the note above on his birthdate...Feb 7, 1812
In response to Deb's observations of 18 September, I'd say that there are a few clues sprinkled about, but they need research. Ch 9, p 89 (U.K. paperback edition 1990) mentions sovereigns and half-sovereigns, reintroduced in 1817, which might indicate that the meeting with Mr Barbellion in the churchyard was on 20 December 1819, and that Martin Fortisquince died the previous day. Mary's diary entry reveals that the Digweeds came t