In the same letter she refers again to characterisations:
Gemma is the only true-life character in the novel. You can recognise in her more or less closely a portrait of my friend Charlotte Wilson whom I called Gemma when I was writing the book.
The following year, Voynich wrote on 14 January 1957 a letter to Boris Polevoi, who had specifically asked her about the Arthur Burton character: ‘You ask me whether the real prototype of Arthur ever existed… indeed, the characters in the novel do not necessarily have, as prototypes, people who actually existed’. She went on to say that ‘The origin of Arthur’s image comes from my old interest in Mazzini and a portrait of an unknown young man in black in the Louvre’.
Polevoi and Taratuta were not the only ones to dispute and challenge Lockhart’s theory. The actor Hugh Millar, a long-time friend, confidante and neighbour of Ethel Voynich’s in New York, wrote privately to Robin Bruce Lockhart shortly after the publication of Ace of Spies in November 1967, taking him to task over his claims. Lockhart’s reply, dated 8 December 1967,12 is most revealing in more ways than one and has, to date, never been published.
When asked by Millar about his source for the statement that Ethel was Reilly’s mistress and that Reilly was the inspiration for Arthur, Lockhart replied:
…the original source of the ‘affair’ with Reilly was Reilly himself. This was checked later directly with Mrs Voynich herself before the last war by another author who had intended to write a book on Reilly but never got round to it as he did not have enough material.
Over and above the fact that Reilly is hardly the most reliable or truthful of sources when it comes to his own past (or virtually any other matter come to that), it seems certain that the ‘other author’ referred to by Lockhart was none other than Reilly’s SIS colleague George Hill. It is clear from the papers Lockhart deposited with the Hoover Institution, that Hill was actively researching his Reilly book in 1935.13 In terms of Hill allegedly checking Reilly’s claim directly with Ethel Voynich, it has to be said that some considerable doubt exists as to whether this was ever the case. There is no record of Hill ever having written to Ethel Voynich, or indeed of her ever having written to him. Bearing in mind that she lived in New York City between 1920 and her death in 1960, Hill could, of course, have taken the opportunity to visit New York to interview her. However, US immigration records show no sign of Hill entering the United States at any time during the inter-war period.14
Curiously, as a further justification for his view, Lockhart also stated in his letter to Hugh Millar: ‘Incidentally, a point that I did not mention in my book was Reilly’s stutter from which he suffered in his youth – a handicap also of the ‘Gadfly’.
Of the countless people who knew or had recollections of Reilly over a considerable period of time, not one has ever mentioned a stutter. The only reference on record to any kind of peculiarity in Reilly’s speech refers to his accent and pronunciation rather than to such an impediment.15 It could be, of course, that Reilly told Hill that he had a stutter as a child in order to further authenticate his claim to be the inspiration for Arthur Burton.
Over and above the compelling evidence of Ethel Voynich’s own statements and the gaping holes in Lockhart’s theory, the fact remains that the chronology simply does not add up. Ethel Voynich conceived the idea of The Gadfly in 1885/86 and started writing it in 1889. How could Rosenblum, who was eleven or twelve years old at this time have possibly had any influence in the creation of the story? By the time Rosenblum arrived in England at the end of 1895 the book was virtually finished. It must therefore be concluded that Arthur Burton was not based on Sidney Reilly, but Sidney Reilly was based upon Arthur Burton. Whether he would so readily have adopted Arthur’s mantle had he known he would ultimately share Arthur’s fate is a moot point.
Although The Gadfly provided Reilly with the template for his fabricated life story, it does not explain where he got the fine detail about the years he allegedly spent in South America. We do not need to go too far along the library shelf for the answer, which is to be found in a later, lesser-known Ethel Voynich book, An Interrupted Friendship, published in 1910. The book attempts to recapture the success of The Gadfly by returning to the story of Arthur Burton, alias Felice Revarez, and focuses on the period he was in South America.
In Ecuador a group of explorers, led by Col. Duprez, are deserted by their interpreter and seek a replacement, which turns out to be no easy task as the respectable interpreters are too scared to join them. They are inundated with applications from those who have no skill with languages. When Rivarez presents himself he is mistaken for a tramp.16 It soon becomes apparent, however, that under the grime and dirt he is a gentleman and that his claim to be able to speak several languages is true. Col. Duprez therefore takes him on and they proceed with the expedition. When crossing a river, Rene, one of the explorers, falls in and gets his equipment wet so that when he is about to be attacked by a jaguar, his gun will not fire. Just as the jaguar cuts his arm with its claws, however, a shot rings out killing the animal – Rivarez has saved Rene’s life. When the expedition is in danger from being attacked by a tribe of savages, Rivarez goes to the natives alone and successfully calms them. When he returns safely, Col. Duprez gives him a permanent contract and says that it is the only way he has at that time to show his gratitude to Rivarez for risking his life to save theirs. He adds that he will let all of France know about him when they return. Three years pass and they return to Europe.
Here then is the genesis of the Fothergill story. In this case it is at least chronologically possible that Rosenblum provided Voynich with some inspiration, although highly improbable. Again, it is more likely that he lifted the tale from her, rather than the other way around.
APPENDIX TWO
MISTAKEN IDENTITY
In July 1905, Reilly graduated from the Royal School of Mines with top marks… he then went straight up to Trinity College Cambridge, to do research into Civil Engineering.
The evidence Kettle presents in support of this theory is, at first sight, compelling and beyond doubt. According to Kettle, Reilly used the name Stanislaus George Reilly to successfully make an application to study electrical engineering at the Royal School of Mines in Exhibition Road, Kensington, on 15 September 1904. On the form he refers to his experience of railway, waterway and road construction work in India. At the top of the form a college official has noted that Reilly produced a certificate confirming that he had studied at Roorkee College in India and that his date of birth was 24 April 1877.2
Kettle relates in his book how he set about trying to establish the claims made on the application form by studying India Office Records in London and initiating enquiries in India. He concludes that Reilly’s claim to have been educated at Roorkee is without foundation as indeed are his claims to have been a civil engineer.3 In his view, the whole story was a skilfully constructed alibi, which Reilly ‘carefully kept up to date all his life’4 as a cover for his spying activities. He produces no evidence to show that Sidney Reilly ever used the name Stanislaus Reilly or used Stanislaus’ curriculum vitae, fictitious or otherwise, as a cover or alibi for himself, however. It is also significant that not one of Sidney Reilly’s friends, acquaintances or colleagues ever heard or referred to this ‘India story’.