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WHAT RAT
WAS THAT?
by Marilynne McKay, ASH
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(This presentation originated at
Autumn in Baker Street 1998—the final version was read at the Sir James
Saunders Society meeting of the American Academy of Dermatology in 2000).
My
story begins with The Sussex Vampire. The
note to Holmes read in part:
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“SIR: Our client, Mr. Robert
Ferguson ...has made inquiry… we have recommended call upon you...We have
not forgotten your successful action in the case of Matilda Briggs.”
“Matilda
Briggs was not the name of a young woman, Watson,” said Holmes in a
reminiscent voice. “It was a ship which is associated with the giant rat of
Sumatra, a story for which the world is not yet prepared.”
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Well,
today WE are prepared — so let us ask the obvious questions:
What did the Matilda Briggs have to do with Sumatra? (And perhaps
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not so obvious) What was the
“professional service” that Sherlock Holmes did for Sir James Saunders?
SUMATRA
Well,
as it happens, all three references to Sumatra in the Canon surely refer to
the same nasty business. The most spectacular aspect was detailed by Watson
in The Dying Detective. (You no
doubt recall the physical signs of Holmes’ feigned illness — the crusted
beeswax on the lips, for instance? The topic of moulages or wax models of afflictions is of particular historical
interest to dermatologists. The famous Musée
de Moulages at the Hôpital St Louis in Paris is entirely devoted to
dermatologic diseases.) In The Dying
Detective we encountered Mr. Culverton Smith, a well-known resident of Sumatra.
When his nephew Victor Savage died of a deadly Sumatran “coolie disease,”
Holmes suspected Culverton Smith of foul play, narrowly averting the
death-dealing little prick himself.
Victor,
however, was but a small cog in the monstrous Sumatran machine. As Watson
notes in the introduction to The
Reigate Squires, Baron Maupertuis and the Netherland Sumatra Company were
intimately concerned with both politics and finance. You recall that the
solution of this case left Holmes exhausted in Lyons even while Europe rang
with his name and his room was “ankle-deep with congratulatory telegrams.”
Naturally, smuggling had been
involved — Pinkerton agents found contraband in numerous ships on several
oceans. It was on the Matilda Briggs, however,
that the mysterious parcel was discovered — a small wooden chest containing
only coil upon identical coil of long glossy auburn hair. The entire box was
taken apart and searched, and the contents were examined and analyzed. The
hair appeared to be human and, despite its color, of Asian origin.
In
due time, the box of hair was brought to Holmes, who was masterminding the
unraveling of the Sumatran case. A report from Scotland Yard includes this
note:
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Holmes gave the hair a cursory
examination, then turned abruptly and strode to the mantle where he filled
his pipe with tobacco from a Persian slipper. He puffed thoughtfully as he
turned to regard the open box.
“I smell a rat,” said Holmes.
Whatever did he mean?
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Rat: definition 2. A round and
tapering mass of hair, or similar material, used by women to support the
puffs and rolls of their natural hair.
In
the late 19th century, ladies wore their hair high on the back of the head,
often with hanging curls. A chignon of false hair was frequently added. By
the turn of the century, the pompadour reached its height (so to say). Puffed
above the forehead and close at the sides of the head, there was a large knot
at the back of the neck. The hair was combed up over a “rat” made of a roll of hair around the
head.
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