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[identity profile] scfrankles.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] sherlock60
This week we’re having a look at Charles Augustus Milverton. I’ve typed up a few thoughts and questions to get the discussion going—please leave your own ideas in the comments!

It records an absolutely unique experience in the career both of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and of myself. Why is Holmes asked to get involved? He’s a consulting detective—no actual detective work was necessary to act as Lady Eva’s agent with Milverton. Was he asked because he’s used to dealing with criminals? To be honest, Holmes seems out of his depth in this situation—simply trying to grab the letters off Milverton seems so inept.

The reader will excuse me if I conceal the date or any other fact by which he might trace the actual occurrence. The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes suggests the story takes place post Hiatus. However, I would argue there is evidence to say this is a pre-Hiatus case. Holmes disguises himself as “a rakish young workman” (but then I suppose it could be argued that Watson specifies “young” because Holmes actually isn’t). Watson seems so utterly shocked when Holmes tells him he’s going to burgle Milverton’s house, which suggests to me he hasn’t ever experienced Holmes committing burglary before. And later Watson writes: My first feeling of fear had passed away, and I thrilled now with a keener zest than I had ever enjoyed when we were the defenders of the law instead of its defiers. Which does suggest he hadn’t done this sort of thing before. So this case must at least pre-date BRUC, which takes place in 1895, and in which they also commit burglary.

In the previous discussion for CHAS though, [livejournal.com profile] thesmallhobbit does make the excellent point that for Lady Eva to trust Holmes, he must have a very strong reputation—which might indicate this case is happening later on in his career, post Hiatus. There is also the fact Milverton’s house has electric light. But this website states: In 1879 Thomas Edison beat rivals like Sir Joseph Swan to perfect the first viable incandescent light bulb. One year later, Cragside, a rambling mansion near Newcastle designed by Norman Shaw, was the first house to be lit electrically, using Swan's 'electric lamps'. So a rich person might possibly have had electricity in the 1880s.

“I've had to do with fifty murderers in my career, but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow.”
I had seldom heard my friend speak with such intensity of feeling. Could there be a personal reason for Holmes’ passionate loathing of blackmailers?

“Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, when you stand before the serpents in the Zoo and see the slithery, gliding, venomous creatures, with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened faces?” A minor point: here we have more evidence of Holmes’ dislike of snakes. Any thoughts on the reasons behind it? (Or is this just the conventional Victorian point of view?)

"You'll be interested to hear that I am engaged." This isn’t Holmes’ finest moment—he isn’t behaving as a gentleman. But perhaps we should hesitate before condemning him. He and Agatha have only known each other “some days”. Perhaps she isn’t in love—she simply thinks him a kind and hard-working man who will make a good husband. And maybe Holmes has judged the situation perfectly, rather than being cruelly careless of her feelings. His “rival” will step in and also propose marriage, and “Escott” will soon be a memory.

I knew that the opening of safes was a particular hobby with him… This is an intriguing statement. How does Holmes manage to indulge in this “hobby”?

"So you sent the letters to my husband, and he—the noblest gentleman that ever lived, a man whose boots I was never worthy to lace—he broke his gallant heart and died.” It feels a little purient to speculate perhaps, but what exactly was the unnamed lady being blackmailed about? It would be strange that an affair before the marriage took place could lead to such a severe shock and broken heart, but the lady loved and respected her late husband so much that an affair after marriage seems equally unlikely. Perhaps she loved her husband dearly but not in a passionate sense and looked for the passion elsewhere?

"It's true," said the inspector, with much amusement. "It might be a description of Watson." Does Lestrade know? And does he believe that Holmes and Watson actually committed the murder? Has he come round to indirectly tell them he won’t give them away?

“I considered him one of the most dangerous men in London, and that I think there are certain crimes which the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justify private revenge.” I sympathise with the lady and I wouldn’t want her to be arrested but I can’t really agree with Holmes’ statement. I wouldn’t want to live in a society in which it was OK for private individuals to take whatever revenge they saw fit. Justice should be dispassionate and evenhanded. And Milverton was a loathsome man who destroyed lives but did he deserve to be executed for it?

“I will free the world of a poisonous thing.” Might it not have been nobler to go to the police, tell them she was a victim of blackmailing and get Milverton sent to prison? In a way murder was the easier option—she could go on with her life afterwards with no-one knowing about it. Though… what would life have been like for the lady after the murder? Did she gain some relief from her actions or was it just another burden to live with?

Next Sunday, 27th September, we’ll be having a look at The Six Napoleons. Hope you can join us then.

Date: 2015-09-20 05:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laurose8.livejournal.com
This post is full of good ideas and suggestions. Thank you. Of the last; I rather think she would have been risking the exposure of other people beside herself.

If I could write a 60, I'd write one about how Agatha is in this case the rival rather than the dupe of Holmes. After all, subverting or infiltrating Milverton's domestic staff is an obvious counter measure.
Edited Date: 2015-09-20 05:58 pm (UTC)

Date: 2015-09-20 07:33 pm (UTC)
debriswoman: (cat and mouse)
From: [personal profile] debriswoman
I found it somewhat ironic and amusing that Watson really got into the swing of it and used blackmail to persuade Holmes to let him go a-burgling...

Date: 2015-09-20 07:37 pm (UTC)
debriswoman: (cat and mouse)
From: [personal profile] debriswoman
Would you have Agatha as the relative of a victim...I would love to see what you came up with:-)

And yes, Milverton's executioner has already lost her husband...the gain is for future victims. The guilty conscience is hers.

Date: 2015-09-21 02:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dustbunny105.livejournal.com
Sorry this is all sort of disjointed and out of order, but:

My favorite line from this story-- one of my favorite lines from any of the stories-- has always been and likely always will be, I picked up a chair, but Holmes shook his head and I laid it down again. Makes me laugh every time.

I wonder if Watson's apparent shock and thrill regarding the burglary might be put down to Watson fudging and otherwise exaggerating the details for the sake of storytelling.

For a long time, even with the utmost discretion and reticence, it would have been impossible to make the facts public; but now the principal person concerned is beyond the reach of human law, and with due suppression the story may be told in such fashion as to injure no one. I've always wondered about this. Maybe I've got it wrong, but I take this to mean that the lady who murdered Milverton is dead and so Watson feels confident in putting the story out without causing undue harm to her memory. The wording-- "now [...] beyond the reach of human law"-- suggests to me that it was her death that prompted him to finally write up the tale. Yet since he doesn't give a name or other unique identifying details, what exactly about her death makes the story safe to print? To say nothing of the fact that he's implicating himself and Holmes both in a serious crime.

Speaking of said crime, even with details obscured, Milverton had his fingers in too many pies for no one to recognize the event described. I wonder how many people wrote Watson after this story asking for the murder's name so that they could lay flowers at her grave.

And speaking of the lady, I've always taken the "loved her husband dearly but not in a passionate sense and looked for the passion elsewhere" view of the matter. Her apparent love and respect for him as expressed when she confronts Milverton could also be fueled by guilt over what happened to him as much as genuine feeling for him.

"You appear to me," he said, at last, "to be taking matters too much for granted. I am, of course, familiar with the contents of these letters. My client will certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her to tell her future husband the whole story and to trust to his generosity."

Milverton chuckled.

"You evidently do not know the Earl," said he.

From the baffled look upon Holmes's face I could see clearly that he did.

"What harm is there in the letters?" he asked.


I wonder if Milverton knows something about the Earl that Holmes doesn't, if Holmes knows something about the Earl that Milverton doesn't or if perhaps Lady Eva was not entirely upfront about the contents of the letters.

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