boards on a back window. I spent several hours looking through the woman’s possessions. There was a small metal box in one of the drawers of an old cabinet that had been hidden amidst her clothes. Inside it was a small diary. It contained the information I had been hoping for. An entry, dated 5 June 1865, read: “My little son, to whom I have given the name James, was born to me one week ago. His father is Jeremy Hume, who refuses to recognise him.”
“Good lord,” I cried, “Hamilton, then, was Lady Maxwell’s half-brother!”
“Precisely, my dear Watson. I had noticed the resemblance. Hence her father’s violent reaction when he found that an amorous relationship had developed between them. It was during the telling of her story that I initially became suspicious. Hume, a man of position, could not admit either to his family or publicly that his liaison with the wench Rose Hamilton had produced unwanted progeny. Hence his violent outbursts and the actions that followed.”
“And what of Maxwell’s father, and the information conveyed to his son? Surely, Maxwell believed that Hamilton was his half-brother.”
“I thought that this part of the case would be forever lost to us, since the last conversation between Maxwell and Hamilton was heard only by Rastrakoff. Its contents had died with all of them. Here again, however, my dear Watson, luck was with us, for another entry in Rose Hamilton’s diary made it clear that after the death of his wife, Humphrey Maxwell, Reginald’s father, did begin to visit her as well and to take solace in her arms. When Hume failed to recognise his son, or to support her, Rose Hamilton turned to Maxwell, claiming he was the boy’s father. Maxwell believed her, and secretly supported her and the child.”
“Extraordinary,” said I.
“Yes,” said Holmes, “as I look back the story is perhaps unique in your annals. One day you might bring it to public attention.”
“Indeed, I might. And what of Lady Maxwell?”
Holmes now looked out the window wistfully. He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I wonder, Watson. I have often wondered.”
THE CASE OF
HODGSON’S GHOST
I T WAS LATE IN M AY, 1894, THAT THE DEATH OF B RIAN Houghton Hodgson was announced in the London newspapers. One of the great Oriental scholars of the century, Hodgson passed away quietly in his sleep at his home in Aldersley at the age of ninety-four. His life had spanned, therefore, all but the last few years of the nineteenth century.
It was on seeing his obituary that I decided to put together these few notes from my portfolio concerning Sherlock Holmes’s years in the Orient. In a curious way, Hodgson had played a major role in the singular events that I have set down here, but it was only after Holmes returned to England that he was to meet him in the flesh. My friend often spoke of the great scholar of Buddhism, and his lasting influence on the intellectual life of Europe.
Brian Hodgson was born in 1801 in Cheshire. When he was twenty-one, he joined the Indian Civil Service and was first sent to Calcutta, where he held a junior post. Within the first few months of his arrival, however, it became clear to his superiors that the climate and other discomforts of Bengal were serious impediments to his health. He had lost considerable weight, and there was talk of sending him home. He was sent instead first to Almora in the Kumaon Himalaya, and when an opening appeared in Nepal, he was then transferred there with an appointment as assistant to the British Resident, Edward Gardner.
In April, 1823, Hodgson left Almora for Katmandu. The journey was a difficult one. To reach the Nepalese capital, Hodgson had to brave the notorious jungles of the Tarai, where, in addition to the afflictions acquired in Bengal, he contracted one of the worst fevers of the globe, the aul , as it is known in those parts. After his arrival, he spent the first three weeks ill with a high fever that kept him to his bed.
“Good lord,” I cried, “Hamilton, then, was Lady Maxwell’s half-brother!”
“Precisely, my dear Watson. I had noticed the resemblance. Hence her father’s violent reaction when he found that an amorous relationship had developed between them. It was during the telling of her story that I initially became suspicious. Hume, a man of position, could not admit either to his family or publicly that his liaison with the wench Rose Hamilton had produced unwanted progeny. Hence his violent outbursts and the actions that followed.”
“And what of Maxwell’s father, and the information conveyed to his son? Surely, Maxwell believed that Hamilton was his half-brother.”
“I thought that this part of the case would be forever lost to us, since the last conversation between Maxwell and Hamilton was heard only by Rastrakoff. Its contents had died with all of them. Here again, however, my dear Watson, luck was with us, for another entry in Rose Hamilton’s diary made it clear that after the death of his wife, Humphrey Maxwell, Reginald’s father, did begin to visit her as well and to take solace in her arms. When Hume failed to recognise his son, or to support her, Rose Hamilton turned to Maxwell, claiming he was the boy’s father. Maxwell believed her, and secretly supported her and the child.”
“Extraordinary,” said I.
“Yes,” said Holmes, “as I look back the story is perhaps unique in your annals. One day you might bring it to public attention.”
“Indeed, I might. And what of Lady Maxwell?”
Holmes now looked out the window wistfully. He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I wonder, Watson. I have often wondered.”
THE CASE OF
HODGSON’S GHOST
I T WAS LATE IN M AY, 1894, THAT THE DEATH OF B RIAN Houghton Hodgson was announced in the London newspapers. One of the great Oriental scholars of the century, Hodgson passed away quietly in his sleep at his home in Aldersley at the age of ninety-four. His life had spanned, therefore, all but the last few years of the nineteenth century.
It was on seeing his obituary that I decided to put together these few notes from my portfolio concerning Sherlock Holmes’s years in the Orient. In a curious way, Hodgson had played a major role in the singular events that I have set down here, but it was only after Holmes returned to England that he was to meet him in the flesh. My friend often spoke of the great scholar of Buddhism, and his lasting influence on the intellectual life of Europe.
Brian Hodgson was born in 1801 in Cheshire. When he was twenty-one, he joined the Indian Civil Service and was first sent to Calcutta, where he held a junior post. Within the first few months of his arrival, however, it became clear to his superiors that the climate and other discomforts of Bengal were serious impediments to his health. He had lost considerable weight, and there was talk of sending him home. He was sent instead first to Almora in the Kumaon Himalaya, and when an opening appeared in Nepal, he was then transferred there with an appointment as assistant to the British Resident, Edward Gardner.
In April, 1823, Hodgson left Almora for Katmandu. The journey was a difficult one. To reach the Nepalese capital, Hodgson had to brave the notorious jungles of the Tarai, where, in addition to the afflictions acquired in Bengal, he contracted one of the worst fevers of the globe, the aul , as it is known in those parts. After his arrival, he spent the first three weeks ill with a high fever that kept him to his bed.
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