‘There is said to be a hidden skeleton in every house; but you thought there was none in mine, dear Ned.’

‘Upon my life, Jack, I did think so. However, when I come to consider that even in Pussy’s house—if she had one—and in mine—if I had one—‘

⯎ ⯎ ⯎

The sentence stayed unfinished, since Edwin was distracted from those dangerous thoughts by his uncle Jack Jasper. Bad for us readers, if not for Mr. Jasper we probably could have learnt the hidden mystery behind the Drood family. Unfortunately, we can only guess, which is never too late, even 140 years after…

Most of the crimes (not spontaneous ones, but thoroughly planned and thought over crimes) take their premises in a distant past. Maybe the motive of Jasper’s crime is also to be searched within the mysteries of the Drood family, which we can guess from one of the original names of the novel, which was ‘The Mystery in the Drood Family’. The name is self-descriptive.

Let’s take a little journey to the Past to the very year of Edwin’s disappearance—1842, as it was skilfully calculated by Felix Aylmer in his book ‘The Drood Case’, right after it was done by Percy T. Carden. The actual hint was given by Charles Dickens himself in his book, or in the conversation between Neville and Mr. Crisparkle in Chapter XII, to be more accurate:

'This is the first day of the week,' Mr. Crisparkle can be distinctly heard to observe, as they turn back; 'and the last day of the week is Christmas Eve.

As could be understood from the quote, the Christmas Eve (December’ 24th) was the last day of the week which fell on Saturday, since the first day of the week in England is Sunday, as we all know. And there are only three years in the second quarter of the XIX century that match this description: 1836, 1842, and 1853. Taking into account the fact, that in order to reach London, people of Cloisterham had to take a squat omnibus and then transfer to a train about six miles apart of the capital. Thus we can conclude, that only 1842 matches, for there was no railway in Cloisterham-Rochester by 1836, and by 1853 London was already connected to Strood and there is only the river Medway to separate it from neighboring Rochester. So, by eliminating false dates, we can tell undoubtedly, that Edwin disappeared on December’ 25th night in 1842.

Jasper the choirmaster was of some ‘six-and-twenty’ by 1842, meaning he was born in 1816; Edwin was about 21 accordingly, born May 1822; and Rose Bud just under 17, born 1825. When Rose was a six years old child her Mother passed away during ‘party of pleasure’ in 1831, whilst her father Mr. Bud died a year later in 1832.

Notice, the date of Mrs. Drood’s death is still ambiguous, and is somewhere between 1822-1829, not giving up on the possibility that she died while giving birth to Edwin.

Mr. Drood died in 1838-1841. He wasn’t buried next to his wife, since her grave vanished from Cloisterham Graveyard. His grief and solitude was more exaggerated with him being buried inside a sarcophagus just like a Pharaoh.

It can be suspected then, that Mrs. Drood’s fate was possibly the hidden skeleton that was mentioned above. It all provokes so many questions. If she was dead, where is her grave then? And if she was alive, where was she herself? Also Mrs. Drood’s (born Jasper) being John’s sister (despite their age difference) adds more sophistication to this unveiled mystery.

But could there be any mysteries in the Buds family?

It is unnecessary to make anything up, since Dickens pointed to the eternal triangle unambiguously: Mr. Bud—Mrs. Bud—Mr. Grewgious.

'I wonder whether he ever so much as suspected that some one doted on her, at a hopeless, speechless distance, when he struck in and won her. I wonder whether it ever crept into his mind who that unfortunate some one was!'

Yes, there was someone aware, — we can undoubtedly answer Hiram Grewgious’s question. A portrayal painted so accurately by Dickens give us maybe not the most detailed but pretty coherent idea about the Buds’ misfortune.

Rosa, having no relation that she knew of in the world, had, from the seventh year of her age, known no home but the Nuns' House, and no mother but Miss Twinkleton. Her remembrance of her own mother was of a pretty little creature like herself (not much older than herself it seemed to her), who had been brought home in her father's arms, drowned. The fatal accident had happened at a party of pleasure. Every fold and colour in the pretty summer dress, and even the long wet hair, with scattered petals of ruined flowers still clinging to it, as the dead young figure, in its sad, sad beauty lay upon the bed, were fixed indelibly in Rosa's recollection. So were the wild despair and the subsequent bowed- down grief of her poor young father, who died broken-hearted on the first anniversary of that hard day.

The betrothal of Rosa grew out of the soothing of his year of mental distress by his fast friend and old college companion, Drood: who likewise had been left a widower in his youth. But he, too, went the silent road into which all earthly pilgrimages merge, some sooner, and some later; and thus the young couple had come to be as they were.

Mr. Grewgious gives us some more information regarding the family:

'Mr. Edwin, this rose of diamonds and rubies delicately set in gold, was a ring belonging to Miss Rosa's mother. It was removed from her dead hand, in my presence, with such distracted grief as I hope it may never be my lot to contemplate again. Hard man as I am, I am not hard enough for that. See how bright these stones shine!' opening the case. 'And yet the eyes that were so much brighter, and that so often looked upon them with a light and a proud heart, have been ashes among ashes, and dust among dust, some years! If I had any imagination (which it is needless to say I have not), I might imagine that the lasting beauty of these stones was almost cruel.'

'This ring was given to the young lady who was drowned so early in her beautiful and happy career, by her husband, when they first plighted their faith to one another. It was he who removed it from her unconscious hand, and it was he who, when his death drew very near, placed it in mine. The trust in which I received it, was, that, you and Miss Rosa growing to manhood and womanhood, and your betrothal prospering and coming to maturity, I should give it to you to place upon her finger. Failing those desired results, it was to remain in my possession.'

Mr. Bud’s reaction of tumultuous desperation, when he saw a betrothal (not to be confused with wedding) ring oh his dead wife’s finger, plays the key role in unraveling the mystery. Finding of the ring gets Mr. Bud’s eyes open: his wife did not drown accidentally, but committed a suicide, for she didn’t want to live being accused in betrayal by her husband.

Let’s put the mise-en-scène from the very beginning.

Mr. Bud, an elderly man of about 35 (Grewgious’s age by that time) makes a proposal to his future wife, an 18 years of age young lady (Rosa’s age according to the novel). The proposal is accepted with joy and gratitude. Mr. Bud makes a gift to his fiancée—‘a rose of diamonds and rubies delicately set in gold’, as a token of their betrothal, which means Mr. Bud was not only rich, but also generous, i.e. he was a very good match for a young lady. Future Mrs. Bud wears that ring with joy and pride. The joy that is obvious to Mr. Grewgious, the third side of the triangle, who’s also in love with the young lady. Grewgious was probably a member of Bud’s and Drood’s circle. Grewgious being delicate in this situation decides not to spoil their happiness and content himself with distant admiration. But not very distant, he hasn’t left for Australia since he was still there on the day of Mrs. Bud’s death, however not taking part in ‘the party of pleasure’.

A betrothal ring is usually substituted for a wedding ring on the day of marriage, so did the Buds. And then Rosa is born on the time it was expected. Several years pass since her birth.

Rosa was six, Edwin was nine and Jasper was fifteen by that tragic day.

It’s not clear how, whether he was told or based on his own jealousy, but Mr. Bud gradually comes to conclusion that his beloved is no longer faithful to him, he starts suspecting her in betrayal with Mr. Grewgious, moreover he even considers that his friend Hiram, might also be the biological father of his daughter Rosa.

Mrs. Bud has to endure her husband’s frequent fits of jealousy (concealed from the eyes of other people, since the Buds never let Grewgious inside their house), that make her life simply unbearable. Mr. Bud takes his wife’s wedding ring threating to divorce her. Poor woman, being neither able to prove herself innocent, nor to live together with her hateful husband any longer, with the husband she feels none of the pride she used to feel for, decides to recover her good name by the means of suicide. Not just any suicide it is, but a beautiful one with romantic attributes, with a wreath of wildflowers on her head and a betrothal ring (not to be confused with wedding ring) on her finger. The time was also decided precisely: she did it in the middle of ‘the party of pleasure’, which is a picnic for friends of their family arranged by the river, she thus wanted to be found as soon as possible, to create the right impression, rather if she would be found days later. Neither Mr. Bud nor Grewgious take part in that picnic.

The picnic takes place neither in London (The river Thames was nothing but a big foul place by that time), nor Cloisterham (where the Droods resided). It was the Buds’ estate in the country. Mr. Grewgious was their guest during these events. As for the Droods, it’s not known whether they participated or not.

The drowned woman is found and carried to the coast, and then Mr. Bud is called. Mr. Bud having a shock because of the happening, but yet having no suspicion of suicide takes his wife home in his arms (which indicates he’s still in love, but not desperate yet). Then Mr. Grewgious comes running, and the doors are not shut in front of him this time, this is the very moment when Mr. Bud notices a betrothal ring on his wife’s finger. He immediately gets her final message—I’m innocent, I’ve always been faithful to you only, and now leaving this world intentionally, and that you have my death upon your consciousness. Irreparableness of the tragedy, consciousness of his own guilt, remorse, and love that was harmed so drastically with his vain jealousy put Mr. Bud standing above his dead wife, into a tumultuous desperation. The episode is sealed in Grewgious’s memory forever, though he is not aware of the true reasons.

Mr. Bud removes the ring form the finger of his beloved wife, symbolizing that the message has been received. The ring becomes for him the sign of her love, the love that he wasted so vainly, the love he destroyed with his own hands. He thinks he doesn’t deserve any mercy and feels himself worthless of the love that the ring symbolizes.

Pricks of consciousness, contempt towards himself caused poor widower’s ‘distracted grief’, which is to be understood as a chronic dysthymia. Mr. Bud totally changes his attitude towards Grewgious (also because Mrs. Bud has recovered his reputation as well), who leaves right after the incident. Mr. Bud however is not left alone by his friend Mr. Drood, supposedly the boys Edwin and Jasper were also invited to the Bud’s estate.

Mr. Bud feels the death draws near, the day he’s longing for eagerly, the day he will finally atone for his guilt. He’s only concern is baby Rosa, the idea of her getting married someday is torturing him. But who can guarantee that her future husband won’t be as jealous as him, who can guarantee he won’t torment her with quarrels and faultfinding to death? So Mr. Bud decides to beg his friend Drood to promise to marry his son Edwin, a kind forgiving fellow, whose wellbeing is secured by his father, an engineer, to his daughter Rosa.

Mr. Drood seeing his friend in such a grief is not able to refuse and promises to provide Rosa’s happiness the way he was suggested. The will and testament of both Drood and Bud are made. Mr. Grewgious, whom Mr. Bud assigned as Rosa’s guardian according to his last will, of course is unaware of the true motive of the importance of this arranged marriage, he was not aware of Mr. Bud’s fears for his daughter, that she might someday repeat her Mother’s destiny by getting married with a selfish and jealous man. His unawareness is clear from his reply to Rosa’s question:

My poor papa and Eddy's father made their agreement together, as very dear and firm and fast friends, in order that we, too, might be very dear and firm and fast friends after them?'

However, they made this agreement not because they were close friends, but in order to protect Rosa from unhappy marriage.

Mr. Bud talks to Grewgious, as a client to attorney not long before the anniversary of the tragic event. Mr. Bud overwhelmed with fruitless remorse passes Grewgious the betrothal ring of Rosa’s Mother—the ring which was a token of his late wife’s love, as we know. By doing so, he wanted to signify that he passes the love of the young lady to a person, who really deserves it. He entrusted the ring to Grewgious to be passed someday to Rosa via Edwin as a betrothal ring, that was the explanation Mr. Bud made to conceal the true reason. However, the additional condition made the true intention obvious—the ring, a token of love and faithfulness of the young lady is to be returned to Grewgious in case of the termination of betrothal, as a chain, riveted to the foundations of heaven and earth, tying up Grewgious and Mrs. Bud, chain that was gifted with ‘invincible force to hold and drag’.

After making all preparations and formalizing his testament, assigning Hiram Grewgious as Rosa’s guardian (i.e. a better father to his daughter), explaining his will to Rosa and Edwin, he passes away, ‘dies broken-hearted on the first anniversary of that hard day’, as it is said in the novel. Such a coincidence (after putting things in order) could barely be accidental, though it was obscure to a seven years old child, it is pretty clear to us—Mr. Bud was so desperate in his remorse, that he judged himself, committing suicide just like his poor wife.

That is the horrible story of the Buds family, the story, which was so skillfully told by Dickens by scattering tiny pieces of hints all over the novel. That truly is a ‘family skeleton’, that alone is able to keep the whole novel going.

But how?

Imagine sixteen years old Jasper and the young beauty Mrs. Bud, ‘a pretty little creature’ of twenty four, with a wreath of wildflowers on top of her flowing hair, wearing a lovely summer dress—just like a dream for a teen at his puberty. Imagine how John saw the cruelty of Mr. Bud suspecting her of betrayal. Her grief and suffering made her even more attractive in the eyes of John Jasper. The young fellow is ready to give his life, only to see a smile on her lips again. He curses the tyrant Bud and cries over the young lady’s unfair destiny. Then comes a hard blow for Jasper—Mrs. Bud’s death, he somehow manages to find out the true reason of her death, possibly overheard from quarrels or Mr. Bud’s confession of his jealousy. Truly, it was unworthy man, who she decided to devote her loving heart and loyalty. The very sad memory is recollected in Jasper’s mind, while listening to foolish Sapsea’s words:

'I have been since,' says Mr. Sapsea, with his legs stretched out, and solemnly enjoying himself with the wine and the fire, 'what you behold me; I have been since a solitary mourner; I have been since, as I say, wasting my evening conversation on the desert air. I will not say that I have reproached myself; but there have been times when I have asked myself the question: What if her husband had been nearer on a level with her? If she had not had to look up quite so high, what might the stimulating action have been upon the liver?'

Mr. Jasper says, with an appearance of having fallen into dreadfully low spirits, that he 'supposes it was to be.'

These words remind Mr. Jasper of the other miserable dead wife of a worthless husband.

1832. Mr. Bud forever restless is looking for a good unselfish match for her seven years old daughter to secure her future happiness. Edwin, 10, rather than John becomes his choice. It’s quite understandable—Mr. Bud desires to seal the agreement for marriage officially, in both his and Drood’s testaments, it would not be possible if he chose Jasper, since Mr. Drood had no right to decide for his brother-in-law whom he should marry. But what did John think regarding all this? He felt offended for being considered unworthy and his eternal love to Mrs. Bud so great, but yet undisplayed so badly rejected. And that jerk Edwin is going to take it all. No, of course he is a good boy, and John loves him brotherly—but why him, but not Jasper?

Of course Jasper hasn’t fallen in love with Rosa by that time, as it is impossible for an eighth form student to fell in love with a first form child—the age difference is way too big. But when he turns twenty five and Rosa turns sixteen, that age difference is no longer tangible. Then she becomes just like her mother with her stunning beauty, and it is inevitable for Jasper to fall in love with her madly. Their music lessons are to become a passionate declaration of love for Rosa and her mother, whom she represented unknowingly:

Oh! the days are gone, when Beauty bright

My heart's chain wove;

When my dream of life, from morn till night,

Was love, still love.

New hope may bloom,

And days may come,

Of milder calmer beam,

But there's nothing half so sweet in life

As love's young dream:

No, there's nothing half so sweet in life

As love's young dream.

Though the bard to purer fame may soar,

When wild youth's past;

Though he win the wise, who frown'd before,

To smile at last;

He'll never meet

A joy so sweet,

In all his noon of fame,

As when first he sung to woman's ear

His soul-felt flame,

And, at every close, she blush'd to hear

The one loved name.

Jasper quotes this particular poem Love’s Young Dream by Thomas Moore at the end of Chapter II, as a reply to Edwin’s joke regarding Pussy’s gloves. ‘As when first he sung to woman's ear’ — this verse is all about Jasper and Rosa. However, Edwin is too naive to understand the hint, ‘You can't be warned, then’.

Jealousy for lucky Edwin, offence for being considered unworthy, fear, that Rosa might not be happy with a man who doesn’t love her as she deserves it, and his own passionate affection and selfish love for the young lady, all these are the reasons of his crime—if he is not able to change the testament, he then should prevent it from being executed.

But there was another motherly love to stand against Jasper’s selfish affection. Edwin decided not to give Rosa her Mother’s betrothal ring, ‘Let them be. Let them lie unspoken of, in his breast. However distinctly or indistinctly he entertained these thoughts, he arrived at the conclusion, Let them be. Among the mighty store of wonderful chains that are for ever forging, day and night, in the vast iron-works of time and circumstance, there was one chain forged in the moment of that small conclusion, riveted to the foundations of heaven and earth, and gifted with invincible force to hold and drag.’

The ring, a token of love and faithfulness, is to be returned to Hiram Grewgious according to Mr. Bud’s last will. And it did, despite Jasper’s crafty designs, remaining unaffected by quicklime, it was returned to Grewgious, magically just like the legendary ring of Hydderch Hael, King of Cadzow. We will never know how that ring returned, the story, which was expected in the second part of the book, is never to be written, the story that was gifted with ‘invincible force to hold and drag’, no less than the family ring of the Buds.

Translated by Lucius Tellus