The collection of autographs, letters, and documents of
literary and historical interest has for many years been a
prominent feature in the collecting world, but at no time was
the quest more keen or conducted on more systematic lines
than to-day. The records of the leading sale rooms often
supply matter for surprise, the prices asked and obtained for
rare and choice specimens being such as to excite both
wonder and amazement, sometimes tempered with scepticism.
It is, therefore, not surprising that this profitable and
growing market should have attracted the fraudulent, for the
prizes when won are generally of a substantial character, and
amply repay the misapplied effort and ingenuity demanded.
The success which has attended too many of these frauds
may be largely accounted for by the fact that in many cases
the enthusiasm of the collector has outrun his caution.
Many a man famous for his astuteness in the pursuit of
his ordinary business has allowed himself to fall an easy
victim to the forger, thus exemplifying the familiar adage
that we are easily persuaded to believe what we want to
believe.
The recorded stories of some of the frauds perpetrated
upon ardent and presumably judicious collectors read like
the tales told so often of the triumph of the confidence
trickster, and one marvels how a person of ordinary power of
observation, to say nothing of experience, could fall a victim
to a fraud requiring little perception to detect. The
explanation doubtless lies in the direction indicated—the
ardour of the pursuit, the pride and joy of possessing
something that is absolutely unique.
The leading case—to use an expressive legal term—is
that known as the Vrain-Lucas fraud, the principal victim of
which was Mons. Chasles, probably the greatest of modern
French geometricians, and one of the few foreign savants
entitled to append the distinguishing mark of a F.R.S. of
England.
Lucas was a half-educated frequenter, and nominal
reading student of the great Parisian library, and for some
years had dealt in autographs in a small way, the specimens
he offered being undoubtedly genuine. Inspired by the
collecting ardour and the apparent blind faith placed in him
by M. Chasles, Lucas embarked upon a series of deceptions
so impudent, that it is easy to sympathise with the defence
put forward by his advocate at the trial, namely, that the
fraud was so transparent that it could only be regarded as a
freak.
In the period between the years 1861 and 1869, Lucas
sold to his dupe the enormous number of 27,000 documents,
every one a glaring fraud. They comprised letters purporting
to have been written by such improbable authors as Abelard,
Alcibiades, Alexander the Great to Aristotle, Cicero,
Cleopatra, Joan of Arc, Sappho, Anacreon, Pliny, Plutarch,
St. Jerome, Diocletian, Juvenal, Socrates, Pompey, and—most
stupendous joke of all—Lazarus after his resurrection.
It is hard to believe, and but for the irrefutable records
of the Court, few would credit the fact that every one of
these letters was in the French language! And the dupe a
highly educated mathematician of European repute.
In the face of such incredible gullibility one is disposed to
regard the sentence of two years' imprisonment and a fine of
500 francs as extravagantly severe, even despite the fact that
Lucas received in all over 140,000 francs from M. Chasles.
The Chatterton and Ireland forgeries are familiar to all
educated persons. These, however, hardly come under the
head of the class of fraud with which the ordinary forger is
associated. In each of these cases the motive of the
deception was not so much to make money as a literary
reputation. In both cases presumably competent judges were
deceived. But the standard by which they gauged the
genuineness of the productions was not caligraphic, but
literary. In neither instance was there occasion or opportunity
for the handwriting expert to exercise his skill, for the
sufficient reason that there existed no material with which
the writings could be compared. What the literary expert
had to do was to examine and compare the style of the
compositions—a test in which the idiosyncrasies and
predilections of the judge played a leading part.
Probably the greatest, and for a short time the most
successful autograph fraud perpetrated in Great Britain was
that known as the case of the Rillbank MSS., the detection
and exposure of which were mainly attributable to one of the
authors of this work (Capt. W. W. Caddell).
Just before, and up till 1891, there was in Edinburgh a
young man named Alexander Howland Smith, who claimed
to be the son of a reputable Scottish law official, and a
descendant of Sir Walter Scott.
On the strength of his presumed connection with the
great novelist, he had no difficulty in disposing of, to an
Edinburgh bookseller, for prices whose smallness alone
should have excited suspicion, letters purporting to be in the
handwriting of Sir Walter Scott. Emboldened by success,
he embarked upon a wholesale manufacture of spurious
letters bearing the signatures of Burns, Edmund Burke, Sir
Walter Scott, Grattan and Thackeray. His principal victim
was an Edinburgh chemist, Mr. James Mackenzie, who, when
the fraud was not only suspected, but proved, distinguished
himself by a stubborn and courageous defence of the
genuineness of the documents.
Smith's modus operandi consisted in purchasing large-sized
volumes of the period of the subjects of his forgeries,
and using the blank leaves for the purpose of fabricating the
letters. In May, 1891, a number of alleged Burns' letters
were put up for sale by public auction at Edinburgh, fetching
the surprising paltry price of from twenty to thirty shillings
apiece.
It was a feature of all Smith's productions that the letters
were extremely brief—a feature common to literary forgeries.
The circumstance which first gave rise to suspicion was that
the letters attributed to Scott, Burke, Burns, General
Abercrombie, Grattan and Thackeray all began and ended
with the same words. Those signed by Sir Walter Scott all
began "I have your letter," and ended "I remain," a form
of phraseology the reputed writer never used, but which,
according to Smith, was common to all the distinguished men
whose handwriting he had counterfeited with considerable
success.
On the strength of the partial guarantee provided by the
sale of some of these documents at a reputable auction room,
Captain Caddell purchased a parcel of alleged Scott letters
without prior inspection. A brief examination disclosed their
fraudulent nature, and Smith was arrested. The Edinburgh
police took the matter up, and the impostor was convicted in
June, 1893, and sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment.
Thackeray and Dickens are favourite subjects with most
literary forgers, Washington and Benjamin Franklin running
them very close for favouriteship. American collectors are
particularly keen on procuring specimens of the last two-named,
and there is grave reason to believe that many fall
easy victims.
Fortunately the facilities for comparing and testing the
genuineness of the autographs of every distinguished person
whose holographs are most in favour with the forger, are
numerous. In addition to the splendid collection of specimens
extant at the British Museum Library, there are many
facsimiles available.
The excellent work on Autograph Collecting by Dr. Henry
T. Scott (Upcott Gill, London) is indispensable to the collector.
It contains some hundreds of specimens, specially selected for
the purposes of comparison, and gives besides many very
valuable rules and hints for detecting the real from the sham.
Dr. Scott, writing of the autographic letters of his
distinguished namesake, says:
"Of Sir Walter Scott's autographs it may be observed (1)
the paper is generally letter size, gilt edged, with a soft,
firm feeling to the touch, and an unglazed surface. (2) The
date and residence are placed on the top and right hand,
with a good space before the 'My Dear Sir,' uniform
margins on the left side of the paper of a quarter of an inch,
but on the right side no margin at all, the writing being
carried close to the edge. The folding is done with the
precision of a man of business, forming the space for the
address into a nice oblong almost in the centre of the sheet,
and the first line of the address is written nearly in the
centre of the space with the remainder below.
"The watermarks found on the paper are one of the
following: Valleyfield, 1809; C. Wilmott, 1815; J. Dickinson
and Co., 1813; J. Dickinson, 1816; J. Dickinson (without
date); J. Whatman, 1814; J. Whatman (without date);
Turkey Mill, 1819; Turkey Mill (without date);
G. C. & Co., 1828."
The paper used by Burns for his correspondence was always
large in size, rough in surface, never glossy, and all four
edges had the rough edge that is the peculiarity of a Bank of
England note.
It is worthy of remark that in the case of the A. H. Smith
Burns forgeries, suspicion was first excited by a simple but
significant matter. The paper contained several worm holes.
These had been carefully avoided by the writer, he knowing
that if his pen touched them the result would be a spluttering
and spreading of the ink.
Now it is safe to assume that these worm holes, being the
effect of age, did not exist at the time the letter—if genuine—was
written; as the worm did its work long afterwards, it
must be regarded as a fortunate circumstance that in
perforating the paper it refrained from destroying the
writing, carefully selecting the wider spaces that the poet
had, with commendable foresight, left for the insect's
depredations.
The letters of Thackeray are in two styles of handwriting,
the earlier sloping slightly, the latter vertical, round, neat and
print-like, the capital I being invariably a simple vertical
stroke. His is the most neat and uniformly readable hand of
all the great literary characters. It is somewhat unfortunate
that he was not anything like so uniform in his choice of
paper. Letters are in existence on an extraordinary variety
of material, from a quarto sheet to a scrap torn from half a
sheet of note paper. On many of these letters is neither
address nor date, but when once the characteristics of the
charming handscript have been mastered, they are never
forgotten, and are recognisable amid the closest imitations.
There are extant a number of forged Thackeray's. Their
distinguishing features are that they are invariably very short,
as if the forger feared to provide sufficient matter to supply
material for comparison; most are on single half sheets of
note paper, many on quarto sheets of varying texture and
quality, and the characteristic vertical I, Thackeray's trade
mark, always occurs. It is shaky and often out of the
perpendicular, as the genuine rarely is. In the forgeries we
have seen and suspect to be the work of A. H. Smith, a very
significant sign is a sudden thickening of the downstrokes of
tailed letters like y, f, g, producing a tiny diamond-shaped
excrescence in the middle of the letter. The glass reveals
that ragged-edged stroke which is inseparable from the
writing of the nervous copyist.
It is generally safe to be cautious about very short letters.
The forger well knows how difficult is the task of maintaining
an assumed character. Just as the mimic may
succeed in reproducing the tone and manner of a person with
sufficient closeness to deceive even the most intimate
acquaintances of the subject, yet fail to carry the deception
beyond a few words or phrases, so the literary forger
invariably breaks down when he attempts to simulate
handwriting over many sentences. So conscious is he of this
great difficulty that he often avoids it by boldly copying some
genuine letter. We have had offered to us "guaranteed"
Thackeray letters which we immediately recognised as such.
In one particularly glaring case the forger had copied the
original letter very fairly so far as the penmanship was
concerned, but while the original was written on a half sheet
of note paper, the forgery was on a different size paper, and
the writing across the length of the paper instead of the
breadth. This naturally disarranged the spacing between the
words, which in all Thackeray's writings is a pronouncedly
regular feature, and this variation was in itself sufficient to
excite suspicion.
The popularity of Dickens among collectors grows
steadily. Despite the fact that he was an industrious
correspondent, and that a very large number of his letters
appear from time to time in the market, the demand is ever
in excess of the supply. As a consequence he has suffered
perhaps more than any of the literary immortals at the hands
of the forger. Yet it is safe to say that there should be no
writer so safe from fraudulent imitation, for there is a
peculiar distinctiveness about his caligraphic productions that
once seen and noted should never be forgotten. Specimens
are easily available. The catalogues of dealers are constantly
presenting them, and most public libraries possess examples,
either in the original holograph or in some form of
reproduction.
Probably no writer preserved his style with such little
change as Dickens. His signature in later years varied
somewhat from that of his literary youth, but the body of his
handscript retained throughout the same characteristics. It
was always a free, fluent, graceful hand, legible as that of
Thackeray when its leading peculiarities have been mastered,
but less formal and studied than his. It was always
remarkably free from corrections or interlineations. He
wrote with the easy freedom of the stenographer; indeed it is
easy to recognise in the delicate gracefully formed letters the
effect of years of training in the most difficult and exacting
form of handscript.
Perhaps the leading peculiarities in the Dickens holograph
are these:—
The date of the month is never expressed in figures, but
always written in full; in fact, abbreviation in any form he
never countenanced.
The letter y, both as a capital and a small letter is a
figure 7 except in the affix "ly," when the two letters become
an f or long stroke s.
The letter t is crossed by the firm downward bar, which
the character readers claim as a sign of great resolution.
Letter g is invariable in form.
Capital E consists of a downstroke with a bar in the centre.
The hook of many final letters has a tendency to turn
backwards.
New paragraphs are marked by beginning the line about
an inch from the left-hand margin.
A very marked peculiarity noticeable in many letters is
that the left-hand margin gradually grows wider as the
lines approach the bottom of the page. The narrowing is
wondrously regular, a line drawn from the first letter on the
first line to the corresponding position on the last will touch
nearly every other line. This peculiarity appears to have
escaped every forger whose work we have examined.
If the signs relied upon by the readers of character in
handwriting are to be accepted, self-esteem was a pronounced
characteristic of the great novelist. His writing abounds with
those subtle symptoms of the prevalence of that weakness.
His signature is perhaps the best known of any with
which the British public are familiar. It is remarkably
uniform, and remained precisely the same from the time he
adopted it after the Pickwick period until his death. That
which he used in youth was less striking, but none the less
self-conscious.
After the Pickwick period Dickens adopted the use of
blue paper and blue ink. Letters in black ink, if undated,
may safely be attributed to the earlier period.
His note paper was in later years of the regulation note
size. The address, Gads' Hill Place, Higham by Rochester,
Kent, was in embossed black old English letter. His paper
was hand-made, and of good quality. The envelopes were
blue, of the same quality paper, but without crest, monogram
or distinctive mark. Dickens' vanity expressed itself in the
habit of franking envelopes, i.e., by writing his name in the
left-hand bottom corner, after the fashion in vogue when
Peers and M.P.'s enjoyed the privilege of free postage.
His letters of the pre-envelope period—before 1842—were
on quarto sheets. These are exceedingly rare.
There is one feature about autographic forgery which
may always be relied upon to assist greatly in the work of
detection. As a general rule there is sufficient matter in
a literary forgery to supply the necessary material for
comparison. It must of necessity be a copy, if not of an
existing original, at least of the general style. The process
of imitation must be slow and cautious, and the signs remain
in shaky, broken lines, and a ruggedness entirely absent from
the writing of the real author, which is fluent and free.
Even the shakiness of age noticeable in a few distinguished
handwritings is different to the shakiness of the forger's
uncertainty.