The Hunting of the Snark

by Enrico Solito
translated by Paola Wright

One of Lewis Carroll’s less famous books, but in my opinion one which is more fascinating than Alice, is The Hunting of the Snark: the impossible search by a strange group of adventurers for a fantastic animal. They have nothing to rely on, except their intelligence and their courage, because there is no compass to help one navigate the realm of fantasy - which is why they use a map that is completely blank. Their search will end in tragedy, for instead of the Snark they will find Professor Moriarty, pardon, a Boojoum, the worst danger that could befall them. I have mentioned this book because as Holmesians, we too are in a way engaged in a fascinating if completely paradoxical hunt, which takes us into the realms of fantasy, as we try to prove and explain something that does not exist in the known universe, and to demonstrate what cannot be rationally accepted. But, unlike the Snark hunters, we do have maps to help us find our way: the Canon and the historical and geographical references of the Victorian and Edwardian eras. These are the weapons I will yield to guide you through this very special hunt, with the hope that at the end it will not be a Boojoum that we will come face to face with. However, before we start, I wish to thank my hunting partner Philip Weller, who has accomplished an incredible amount of work in the shortest of time, and driven me out of my peaceful abode at the Diogenes Club in Florence to plunge me into this adventure. I had only a few facts at my disposal, found in Italian encyclopaedias and musicology treatises (the knowledge that Patti was in England at the time, her musical activity in 1898, and the book that is universally taken to be her autobiography). It was Philip who very matter-of-factly got to the bottom of these sources. Thus, if there is any merit in this work, it is his.

"Carina sings to-night at the Albert Hall, and we still have time to dress, dine and enjoy."

In ‘The Retired Colourman’ [RETI], Holmes and Watson grapple with a strange mystery. Whilst the plot evolves, Watson returns from one of his field his investigations, having followed Holmes’s instructions, when the latter suggests to his friend they should take some time off to hear Carina sing. And her we have the leading question: to who is Holmes referring? To answer this we must consider the music world of the time, the tastes of Holmes and Watson, their musical habits and various other references, in terms of the Canon, real history and real geography. But first, we must clearly define our temporal limits.

There are, unfortunately, very few Holmes cases for which we can say with any certainty exactly when they took place. Fortunately, in the present case, RETI is one of these, in that it is unanimously dated as occurring in the Summer of 1898. We know that the main character, Mr Josiah Amberley, is 61 years old, that he retired in 1896, married early in 1897 and that the story that concerns him evolves within two years of these events: that is before the end of 1898. We also know that the events of the case take place during the Summer: Watson unequivocally talks of a "--- a summer afternoon ---" [RETI 1114], the weather was hot during the train journey [RETI 1118], and one of the characters wore sunglasses [RETI 1116]. Whoever Carina was, he or she was singing at the Albert Hall, on a Summer’s night in 1898.

Much has been written on the musical taste of Holmes and Watson, their favourite pieces and the musicians whose performances they used to frequent. As far as this case is concerned, we need only emphasise that with the sole exception, as it happens, of Carina, all the musicians mentioned in the Canon are famous people of those times. We know (from STUD, REDC and other sources) that Holmes is himself an accomplished violinist and a good composer. The two friends were really passionate about music and regularly attended the London music scene: a ‘good concert’ often provides relaxation after a case, as in REDC, when the two friends attend a Wagnerian event. But even whilst involved in a case, Holmes would go to a concert to switch off momentarily and then resume his investigations with renewed acumen. He does so in RETI, when he goes to hear Sarasate, the great violinist, and in STUD when he hears that other celebrated violinist, Wilhemine Norman Neruda, under the direction of John Hall, her husband. Indeed, Holmes must have been a regular visitor at Norman Neruda’s concerts, as he declares that "Her attack and bowing are splendid." [STUD 36], and then hums a piece by Chopin which she had played particularly well. Additionally, at the end of the Baskerville case, Holmes asks Watson if he has ever heard the brothers De Reszke (a bass and a baritone of Polish birth who had made their name at the Metropolitan in New York and lived in London), thus implying he had [HOUN 766]. It is beyond the scope of this work to expound further on Holmes’s taste in music, or Watson’s, the latter’s also being rather sophisticated, nor their favourite pieces. Suffice it to say that far from being inexperienced spectators, prepared to lend their patronage to any musical event, they were connoisseurs of refined taste, used to the best the music world of the time could offer.

The name ‘Carina’ does not appear in any contemporaneous music encyclopaedias or in older sources and cannot therefore belong to any famous singer. Given Holmes’s great discernment in music, it is unthinkable that he might have suggested to Watson that they should go to a mediocre event. Furthermore, the concert was at the Albert Hall, one of the temples of good music. Nor is such a concert listed in the programmes of minor theatres, as published in the London newspapers. We can only conclude that Carina is not the name of the artist in question.

If ‘Carina’, is not the name of the artist singing at the Albert Hall that Summer’s night, what can it possibly be? Undoubtedly Watson knows exactly who ‘Carina’ is, for he asks for no explanation. We could try to decipher the name as being an anagram or attempt to decode it by means of numbers or other similar expedients, but frankly it is quite unnecessary: Watson is unperturbed by Holmes’s words and does not look up the first word of the fourth line of Bradshaw, or anything of the kind. No, we need a simpler solution to this puzzle, as the name ‘Carina’ is clearly used as though it were a daily occurrence between the two friends. I would like to propose to you the following solution: ‘Carina’ could be carina, an Italian adjective of the feminine gender.

Holmes and the Italian Language

Holmes’s links with Italy have been debated at length in the past and naturally, as Italians, they have always been at the centre of attention for my own society, Uno Studio in Holmes. Besides the many clues we find in the Canon, and Holmes’s many references to Italy, the clearest indication that Holmes has a good knowledge of Italian is to be found in REDC. In this case he immediately identifies attenta as an Italian word, correctly translates it as ‘beware’ and points out to Watson that it is addressed to a woman, as it ends in ‘a’ [REDC 907]. And, as we shall see, this last point of gender will prove to be very important for our present investigation. Incidentally, this episode has been greatly debated, supposedly because of the code being used being utter nonsense: one flash of light for the letter ‘a’, two for the letter ‘b’, and so on. Holmes says that he sees twenty flashes of light, which stand for the letter ‘t’, but this letter is the eighteenth in the Italian alphabet, and both the message sender and the receiver are Italian, with the twentieth Italian letter being V. It seems to us that this debate is, in fact, utter nonsense: the two Italians were afraid that Gorgiano - the camorrist killer they were fleeing from - himself an Italian - might intercept the message. Thus they had previously agreed to use the English alphabet, knowing that Gorgiano would use the Italian one and would not be able to decipher the message, even if he had cracked the code.

If we accept that ‘Carina’ might actually be the Italian word carina, it is important to understand its real meaning in the Italian language. It is first of all a feminine adjective, and thus applies to women. It could describe a woman’s physical beauty, though other adjectives would be generally used if this were the case. Thus carina describes a rather pretty, but not quite beautiful, girl. More often this adjective describes someone pleasant, at a human relationships level: someone friendly, sympathetic, nice, approachable, and so on. This word can also be used in conversation about an absent third party; that is, it could embarrass someone with whom we are not very familiar. We can tell a woman we know well and for whom we have affection that we find her manners carine, but we could not use this word with a woman we do not know or with whom we have only a formal relationship.

There are no references to any of the women singers performing in London at the time being referred to with this name. Therefore it cannot be a nickname in the public domain, but rather an idiomatic way of referring to a particular person: a nickname which the two friends use to identify a third party. Very much like the term ‘Professor’, which in Baker Street would without fail refer to James Moriarty (at least after 1891, when Watson became aware of his existence), or like ‘The Woman’. If we accept that carina, or rather Carina, as Watson records it, might be a nickname, we must conclude that it was a familiar nickname known only to very few: perhaps only to Holmes, Watson and the person concerned. Therefore we would be justified in thinking that the relationship between them must have been a close one, one of friendship perhaps, certainly one of trust. This would also explain why Holmes appears not to be concerned about suggesting the concert at the eleventh hour, when it might have been difficult to obtain tickets, especially if the performing artist was so famous that her performance was well worth attending. Nor is Watson concerned, for Carina would surely have them let in, if called upon to do so.

In Italy it is quite customary to address someone by a familiar nickname; a century ago even more so than now. This is true particularly of some regions, and above all in very small villages, where it is much easier to find out about someone if we use his or her nickname, rather than the actual name, which is often never used. I would also like to emphasise that the same person may be known by a number of nicknames, which change with time and circumstances. Allow me to clarify this by means of a few personal examples. My grandfather Giulio, born in 1900, was known in his youth as Canapino, because of his blond hair the colour of hemp (canapa in Italian). But his hair soon darkened, and his nickname changed. A friend of mine who went by the nickname of Capino, because of the mass of curls that he had, is now quite bald, and is no longer known by that nickname (there is a typically ironic Italian element involved here, in that ‘capino’ means ‘small-head’, as well as ‘black cap’, whereas my friend’s head looked enormous because of the Afro-style of his hair). Some nicknames carry such intimacy that it would be quite rude to use them outside of their particular context: years ago I use to play in a type of board war-game and was known as ‘The English Boar’ by my friends and fellow players because of the boar I used as marker. But I would not have taken kindly to being called by that name by anyone who was not a fellow player, and even by my friends, outside the context of the game.

The singer in question is therefore a woman (carina being of feminine gender), a renowned artist (Holmes and Watson are not easily pleased), was singing at the Albert Hall in the Summer of 1898 [RETI], and was a close friend of Holmes and Watson (the nickname used, the lack of tickets), and it made sense to use an Italian word for her. It all points to Carina being Adelina Patti. I do not want to abuse your patience and thus will not repeat all the reasons my friend Philip has already listed to this effect. But I will recount for you the more important ones for our purposes.

Patti was certainly the greatest soprano of her times: her voice, though not powerful, encompassed an extraordinary range and could reach registers so high that they have become legendary. She also had great scene presence and was able to exploit it to full advantage when impersonating opera heroines: Rossini wrote much of the part of Rosina in the Barber of Seville with Patti and her scene presence in mind. None of the other great sopranos of those times, such as Ilma de Murska, Pauline Lucca, Christine Nilsson, or Etelka Gerster, ever reached Patti’s level of fame. She was a legend all over the world, and rightly so: every lover of bel canto was crazy about her and would have done anything to hear her sing. Pattimania was everywhere. In the USA, Brigham Young - the spiritual leader of the very strict Mormons - went to see the soprano and asked her to sing in his home town; a judge had punished one of Patti’s impresarios, guilty of some misdemeanour, with a fine payable in tickets to her concerts; when she was on tour her image adorned theatre glasses, fans, and evening capes, and Patti commanded fabulous fees which she received personally and in cash.

To me, the fact that Patti is not otherwise mentioned in the Canon clearly points to her being Carina. A man who would not miss Sarasate, is a regular at Norman-Neruda’s performances, and knows well the De Reszkes, would find it impossible to miss an opportunity of hearing the great Patti. Why, though, does the situation exist that there is only the one reference to Patti in the Canon? This ‘black hole’ can be easily explained away by our thesis.

Though born in Madrid, Patti was of Italian extraction and was known by many names (Divina, Queen of Hearts, Queen of Songs, The Patti, Patti …): thus it was not only appropriate to call her by a word borrowed from the Italian language, which Holmes knew well, it was also a homage to her origins. The fact that the name Carina is not to be found anywhere else, does not invalidate our thesis, because as I have already suggested it was probably a term of endearment used by a select few, indeed, perhaps, only by Holmes and Watson in the presence of, or connected with, Patti. And given the friendship that existed between Patti and Edward, Prince of Wales, as well as Holmes’s close links with the Royal Family, it could not be excluded that also the latter were privy to using it. I would also emphasise that the use of nicknames as terms of endearment or irony is particularly strong in Italy in those regions that are most central to our search: Sicily, where Patti’s family originally came from; Rome, birthplace of Patti’s mother; and Florence, where Holmes had stayed a few years earlier [EMPT], and where he had refreshed his knowledge of Italian.

The links between Patti and England were close from the start. After her enormous success at the Metropolitan in New York, it was at Covent Garden, in 1861 that the artist was officially confirmed a star. From then onwards, although she did appear in theatres all over Europe and the States, it was in London that she settled and gave the greatest number of performances.

Patti was an opera singer, but at the time of RETI she had abandoned opera to concentrate on her career as a solo artist. This is an important clue, because had she appeared in an opera, Holmes would probably have mentioned the opera itself, rather than just the artist, however famous. In HOUN, for example, he goes to hear the de Reszkes sing in Les Huguenots: he first mentions the opera and then the singers [HOUN 766]. If in 1898 Patti had still performed in opera, it is unlikely that Holmes would have simply mentioned Carina; rather he would have said something like ‘Carina sings in Traviata’. But since the mid-1890’s Patti had dedicated herself to appearing in solo concerts, though her repertoire consisted largely of operatic arias, with the occasional popular song, like Home, Sweet Home, as Philip has already mentioned.

Patti was in London in the Summer of 1898 and did appear at the Albert Hall. Besides, it was in that year that she was granted British citizenship and the event was marked by a concert, on 17 July 1898. If we accept that Patti is ‘Carina’, then we can officially place RETI to that date.

Patti’s fame stemmed from her leading roles in classic Italian melodramas, from Donizetti to Verdi, via Rossini. It is not impossible that Holmes’s mention of Patti-Carina to Watson could be a coded message, a subtle reference to the case in hand. When Holmes invites Watson to go to Carina’s concert, to while away the time before resuming their investigations the day after, the Good Doctor has no inkling that behind the facts he has recently investigated lies a double murder. On the other hand, Watson’s report gives Holmes reason to have doubts from the very start, as Holmes reveals when summing up the case at the end, and indeed, minutes before suggesting the concert and mentioning Carina’s name Holmes tells Watson that all is not what it seems and there are complications, which perhaps he is only imagining. At the time of the concert, Patti no longer sang in operas, but her concerts naturally saw her sing those pieces that had made her famous, and the great soprano owed her fame not only to light pieces, but above all for portraying the tragic heroines of great melodramas. Holmes’s reference to Carina could therefore be a subtle reference to Italian melodrama, those dramas of jealousy, love and death played out on the stage. RETI’s plot, one of betrayal, true or supposed, pent-up hatred, scheming vengeance, resulting trap, the two victims’ horrendous death, the cruel arrogance of the evil perpetrator and his punishment, which might have taken him to the gallows, provides the perfect setting for that type of show. [ It was exactly this type of passionate interest which caused Holmes to say of Amberley: "He has, to a high degree, the sort of mind which one associates with the medieval Italian nature rather than with the modern Briton." [RETI 1120] ] To mention Patti, following his own suggestion that all might not be what it seems, could be one of those cryptic messages in which Holmes revelled and which neither Watson nor we poor readers can ever immediately comprehend. Though he knew who Carina was and her links to melodrama, Watson failed to understand his friend’s allusion and was thus taken by surprise by what followed.

There are disquieting, subtle similarities between Patti and Irene Adler, she who to Holmes was always "--- the woman." [SCAN 161]. Both were retired opera singers (Adler completely, Patti appearing solely in concerts); both had links with Italy (Adler had sung at La Scala); both had lived in London and had moved in high and royal circles (the affair with the King of Bohemia and the friendship - perhaps not completely platonic - with Prince Edward), though both ended up marrying commoners. Both were women of beauty and intelligence, whose private lives were far from irreproachable (Adler is described as an adventuress, whilst Patti’s life was often touched by scandal, and it should be noted that the title of Verdi’s opera, La traviata, means ‘The Mis-led Lady’, which might also be translated as ‘The Adventuress’). There are of course differences: Patti is a great Soprano, Adler a fair contralto; Patti was born in 1843, Adler in 1858; Patti is Italian but achieves fame in the United States, whilst New Jersey-born Adler sang in Italy. One might be forgiven for advancing the hypothesis that the two might in reality be one and the same person and that SCAN recounted events which befell Patti, and that Watson suitably modified his account not to compromise her. If that were the case, the King of Bohemia could be a disguising name for Edward, Prince of Wales, who had been married since 1863. However, it is an hypothesis that does not take into account either the above differences between the two women or Watson’s dating Adler’s death as having occurred by 1891 (one of the details that the Good Doctor could have artfully modified to conceal the truth), but also Adler’s marriage to the American Norton, which we see in SCAN. When the events of SCAN took place, in 1888 or 1889, Patti was married to the tenor Nicolini and we would therefore have to admit that rather than marriage it was a return home after a conjugal crisis. This too could be a detail artfully modified, but then there would be very little left of SCAN: the second part of the adventure would be a complete invention, which would go far beyond the adjustment of a few details by Watson. The possibility of a direct association between Adler and Patti is far too complicated, and Occam’s Razor rightly insists that we must reject a thesis which brings us more problems than it solves. But we are quite justified in thinking that Holmes was probably struck by the many analogies between the two women and that they might have led to encouraging the friendship of Holmes and Patti.

From many quarters a comparison has been made between Patti and Queen Victoria, not only because Patti ‘reigned’ for so long, but also for her many successes. All over the world huge crowds gathered to see her. Amongst her most fervent admirers we count Alexander II of Russia, Napoleon III, Franz Joseph of Austria, Wilhelm I of Prussia, Edward VII, Leo Tolstoy, Oscar Wilde, Henry James and Theophile Gautier. She earned the praise of Rossini, Verdi, Berlioz, Saint-Saens, Gounod, Tchaikovsky and Wolf. Feared critics such as Henry Chorely, Eduard Hanslick and George Bernard Shaw adored her. Even other sopranos waxed lyrical about her: Tetrazzini knelt at Patti’s feet after one of the latter’s solo performances.

Holmes’s attitude to women has been thoroughly researched by many scholars. It was a mixture of deep respect, a little diffidence and a chivalrous sense of protection. Two great women, Queen Victoria and Irene Adler (the latter had partially defeated him) also inspired in him deference and great admiration. Undoubtedly, he could not but feel the intellectual thrill that a relationship with Patti entailed. As for Patti, this capricious ‘Queen of Prima Donnas’ could hardly keep herself from establishing links with the ‘Prince of Baker Street’ and greatest of detectives. The coming together, or even the clash, of two of Britain’s greatest minds must have resulted in friendship.

Before we can accept that there might have been a close relationship between Holmes, Watson and Patti, we must ask whether such a friendship was likely. Because of his extrovert and friendly character, and the admiration he had for the fair sex, Watson does not pose us any problems in this respect. However, the same cannot be said of the capricious and despotic Patti, or of Holmes, whose natural reserve had him say that Watson was his only friend [FIVE 218]. If we were to admit that such a friendship was unlikely, our thesis would become invalid. Fortunately, as we shall see, this is not the case, and it was indeed possible for our characters to feel appreciation for one another.

On the face of it, a common passion for music should have drawn Holmes and Patti together. However, Holmes clearly states [REDH 184 ] that he likes German more than Italian and French music, though this does not detract from his appreciation of Chopin [STUD 36], opera [HOUND 766, REDC 913], the Spanish composer and violinist Sarasate [REDH 184], or his love for Paganini [CARD 894]. That is, he might have preferred German music, but he liked other types too. Furthermore, far from being limited to Italian opera, Patti’s repertoire was extremely varied. Nor was she above singing popular songs, which she considered perhaps even more difficult than opera arias, and indeed Watson tells us that Mendelssohn’s Lieder are among his favourite pieces [STUD 22]. Perhaps Watson was thinking of the purely vocal Lieder, but it is more likely that he was actually referring to Joseph Joachim’s violin transcriptions of the Lieder Ohne Worte: very famous pieces derived from popular songs, which all young ladies of standing would sing and with which Patti might well have delighted the Good Doctor.

Patti had the reputation for being very insistent on obtaining the highest possible financial reward for her singing performances. Amusing anecdotes are still told about her in this connection, but rather than revealing simple avarice, they indicate that she was fully aware of the unique value of her singing, and that she was unwilling to the whims of the powerful and the noble: if they wanted her, then they had to pay fully for her. An American impresario once remarked to her that the amount which she has remanded for a performance was more than the US President was paid in a whole year. She responded: "Then let him sing!"! We know that Holmes’s attitude to money was totally different to that of Patti, in that she was inflexible on her high rates of remuneration, whereas he sometimes waived his rates completely, but he too, when dealing with the Duke of Holdernesse, demanded a huge sum of money, mostly to punish him for his behaviour. Though he loves art for art’s sake, Holmes treats all his clients the same, whether it be a high-placed personage or a governess. Both Holmes and Patti are assured of their own superiority and both are devoid of excessive deference to the nobility and the powerful (see for example Holmes’s behaviour in MAZA). Undoubtedly these common traits must have played a part in their friendship. In this context, it is perhaps expedient to mention another meaning of the Italian word ‘carina’, that of ‘dear’ as in ‘expensive’. Thus, Patti’s nickname could ironically allude to the extremely high fees she demanded. Holmes did not lack humour, nor did Patti, and this too could have drawn them together.

If we accept that Carina is Patti and that in 1898 she had close links of friendship with Watson and Holmes, we must assume that this friendship predates these events. Quite enlightening in this respect is Philip’s discovery of a particular episode: that of two men ‘well known to the police’, appearing as extras in the opera production in which Patti was singing, adorned with very precious jewels. This is an intriguing possibility and a rather convincing clue: in fact a certainty, in my opinion. There are of course other lines of enquiry, which unfortunately we cannot pursue. Holmes was very active in those years and his path and Patti’s might have crossed for a variety of reasons. Maybe Watson was instrumental, for although he portrays himself simply as one of the many doctors practising in London, we know that he was a man of uncommon qualities and that he kept himself up to date in his field of expertise [STOC, GOLD, RESI]. Thus it is not unlikely that Patti might have consulted him, at a time when the list of his patients was ‘fairly long’. Whatever brought them together, their common interests and the attraction they all had for one another must have provided the basis for a close relationship.

Similarly to hunting for snarks, a Holmesian search is often destined not to have a definite conclusion, for in our Holmesian world the Canon is the only certainty, and it is from thence that we start all our quests. Thus we can say that our theory does not clash with any element of the Canon, is perfectly acceptable from a logical point of view and moreover is supported by many an historical fact. The nickname ‘Carina’ would have suited Patti for a variety of reasons, and the concert in question could be that of July 1898. Therefore we must assume a relationship that predates 1898, which is perfectly coherent with the psychology and interests of the people involved. Thanks to Philip Weller’s research we have been able to identify the possible link between the protagonists of this story, which clearly goes back a few years. Did we catch a Snark? Did we catch a Boojoum? We can only say with Manzoni that this difficult judgement must be left to future generations. But we have the certainty of having conducted a Holmesian quest on both sides of the Channel, thus initiating an Italian-British collaboration that has no equal since the times of ‘The Naval Treaty’ (it might be noted that the Italian for ‘Treaty’ is ‘Trattato’, which in turn can be translated into English as ‘Pact’), which almost brings us back to Patti) and makes us feel as though we were all gathered at that famous door in Baker Street, hoping for a day of glorious sunshine. Sunshine may not be very British, but I assure you it is very pleasurable.

Allow us to conclude this modest proposal with a touch of Italian culture that in our opinion well suits the situation, even though Holmes preferred German music and Patti lived in times that predate Puccini’s Turandot. For it is this opera, the last by this great composer from Tuscany, that we would like to mention in connection with Carina. In this opera, the final enigma that Turandot must unravel is exactly the opposite of our quest, as she must find out the secret name of a known character, the opera’s male protagonist (we, too, will not reveal his name, to enable you to undertake the same quest as Turandot, although your task will be easier). "My mystery is deep within me, nobody shall know my name … Flee o night, and go down stars: at dawn victory shall be mine." On these exalted notes, to be listened to in reverent silence, we quietly leave the stage set for us by Philip.

Note: The basic idea for Patti being Carina was first advanced in: Guerra S & Solito E, Enciclopedia Holmesiana, Torchio, Roma, 1998.