Fraudsters and Charlatans (8 page)

The strain of constantly acting a role began to tell. One day Mary seemed to have disappeared and Elizabeth, searching for her, discovered her sitting high in the branches of a tree. Caraboo indicated that, as the female servants were away, she did not want to be contaminated by the men. It was probably one of the few places she could feel at peace and alone.

Whether it was Mary's natural restlessness or a fresh determination to go to America will never be known, but after three weeks at Knole she suddenly disappeared and was missing for a whole day. As Elizabeth sent servants hither and thither, Mary, fearful of pursuit, was cutting across country through hedges and ditches in the direction of Bristol. She took nothing with her, not even the presents she had been given. This is understandable, since the gifts, which included the Malay
kris
, would either have identified her or led to suspicion if she had tried to pawn them, and if she had stolen anything she would have been pursued as a thief. Mary later claimed she had been trying to get to America, had settled her account with Mrs Neale and sent her trunk to her parents; but she failed to explain where the means to do this came from. What is certain is that carrying a small bundle of clothes she walked back to Knole, arriving footsore, dirty and feverish. She explained that she had recovered the clothes (which were European) from where she had buried them to hide them from the ‘macratoos'. Elizabeth put her to bed and called Dr William Mortimer of Bristol to attend her. He brought a colleague who devised a rather cruel test, stating in the princess's hearing that he thought she had only twenty-four hours to live. Mary controlled her expression, but her face flushed red. The doctor at once declared that this was proof she could understand what was being said, but the maid pointed out that the flushing was also a symptom of her fever. Those who wanted to believe in Caraboo continued to do so.

When Caraboo was recovered she wrote a letter of thanks to Dr Mortimer, copies of which were shown to oriental scholars in Bristol and Bath, and sent to East India House, from whence it was passed to Stamford Raffles himself. One visitor at Knole was a friend of Archbishop Richard Whateley, a tutor at the University of Oxford, and a copy of the letter was duly sent to him. ‘On inspecting it,' wrote the Archbishop many years later ‘I observed among many pot-hooks and unmeaning scrawls, several words and some half sentences in
Portuguese
. I had lately been in Portugal, and had learnt something of the language. I immediately wrote word to my friend that he had sent me a specimen of the Humbug language.'
¹⁴
Whateley showed the specimen to other scholars, who agreed with his judgement. The only Portuguese whom Mary is known to have spoken to was Eynesso, which suggests a remarkable talent for recall and mimicry.

This disturbing verdict on her writing may have caused some concern at Knole, but this was soon to be dispelled. It was inevitable that Mary should attract the attention of Charles Hunnings Wilkinson of Bath. Wilkinson, a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, who probably never achieved the MD which would have entitled him to make use of the title ‘Dr' under which he was known, was a promoter of health cures such as galvanism and inhalations. He was also a self-professed expert in the many branches of science in which he gave lectures. His depth of knowledge may be questioned, but he had many friends and admirers who gained great enjoyment from his lectures and praised him as a man. If Mary had felt nervous about being presented to this notable polymath, she need not have worried, since he immediately fell victim to her charm: ‘her manners are extremely graceful, her countenance surprisingly fascinating,' he later wrote. ‘Such is the general effect on all who behold her, that, if before suspected as an impostor, the sight of her removes all doubt.'
¹⁵

The words ‘fascinating' and ‘interesting' so frequently used of Mary have sexual connotations not apparent today. She was not conventionally pretty, but she had something about her of the wild creature only partly tamed which was bound to thrill. Mary always behaved with extraordinary modesty, shrinking away from even the most innocent male touch, yet it was known that she bathed naked. She had all the allure of a painted nude, a stimulation that was permissible in the name of Art.

Mary's imposture was greatly assisted by the fact that, for a variety of reasons, people wanted to believe in her. For some she provided the challenge of solving a puzzle, and the chance to make a public display of their erudition. For others, such as Dr Wilkinson, the prospect of a book, or even a lecture tour, must have beckoned. In Elizabeth, Mary appealed to sympathetic and charitable instincts, and brought much-needed excitement to her humdrum life. For a lady approaching fifty, with two sons, Mary may have supplied the place of the daughter she had never had. Samuel Worrall's motives are more difficult to decipher. No doubt pleased that his intellectual younger wife had something with which to occupy her mind, he may have thought that the presence in his home of foreign royalty might shore up confidence in the Tolzey Bank, the fortunes of which were in a highly precarious position.

Dr Wilkinson examined the marks of cupping on Mary's head and declared authoritatively that it had been done by no method used in Europe. To him, the inability of the Oxford scholars to identify her language only added to the mystery. Mary had now been the admired plaything of the cognoscenti for eight weeks, yet thus far nothing had appeared about her in the Bristol or Bath newspapers. This was to change. Dr Wilkinson, a lover of publicity, wrote a long letter to the
Bath Chronicle
, describing Caraboo and how she had appeared at Almondsbury, and asking if anyone had observed her so as to reveal the ‘circumstances, which have placed a most interesting female in a situation truly distressing'.
¹⁶
It was usual practice for regional and national newspapers to copy articles from each other, and so before long Princess Caraboo was featured in newspapers all over Britain. Everywhere, people wondered about her and sent letters to Knole with their theories. Wilkinson also announced his intention of taking Caraboo to East India House in London, to be examined by experts.

Mary must have felt uneasy about this publicity. Not only did it increase her chances of making a mistake, but she was afraid that the descriptions of her in the newspapers might be seen by someone she knew. She was right. Mr and Mrs Starling read about Caraboo with great interest, and had no difficulty in recognising their servant. They thought of writing to Mr Worrall, but decided against it. For all their later assertions that they were fond of her, they feared her eccentricity and were worried that if she found they had informed on her, she would waylay Mr Starling on his walks home. Therefore they said nothing. The wheelwright's son had no such concerns, however, and wrote to the Worralls with his suspicions. From that moment, Mary noticed a subtle change in her protectress, who ‘would not be left alone with her; and every thing looked shy and suspicious'.
¹⁷
On 6 June Mary ran away again, and, as before, took nothing with her. Elizabeth, who was obviously still not convinced that her charge was an impostor, was frantic with worry and sent servants in all directions to search for her.

Obtaining a lift with a carrier, Mary arrived that evening at the Pack-Horse Inn, Bath. Had she really wanted to blend into the crowd, all she had to do was dress in European clothes and speak English, but she was still unable to let go of Caraboo. Her arrival at the inn and inability to speak English (she drew a picture of a tree to indicate she wanted a cup of tea) excited considerable attention, and it was only a matter of time before a gentleman realised who she was, and sent word to Dr Wilkinson. He arrived the following morning to find her at breakfast, and at once sent a message to Elizabeth. Another arrival was the gentleman who had so faithfully recorded Caraboo's adventures before reaching England. When Mary recognised her visitors she immediately concluded that the game was up, and burst into floods of tears, burying her face in a handkerchief. It would have been just like her to turn from tears to laughter as soon as she realised that they still believed in her. After breakfast she disappeared again, but Wilkinson discovered her walking in the street. He was concerned about her being mobbed, and to his relief two respectable ladies kindly agreed to take her under their protection, removing her to a house in Russell Street.

Caraboo adapted happily to her new situation and took her place in the fashionable drawing room as a pampered pet. Naturally her new benefactors could not keep this coup to themselves but had to display their exciting novelty to society. Ladies of fashion arrived at their door and crowded the room, all fawning on the princess. Banknotes were strewn before her, but she pretended not to know what they were. One lady, conscious that she was appearing before royalty, knelt at her feet, another took her delicately by the hand, and a third had the temerity to beg a kiss. It was all Mary could do not to burst out laughing. It was as this delightful scene was being enacted that the door opened to admit Elizabeth Worrall.

As soon as she saw the lady whose kindness she had abused, Mary prostrated herself on the floor to ask her pardon. Her grace and obvious emotion had a melodramatic touch that the onlookers found deeply affecting. She explained, as best she was able, that she had only left Knole because she missed her homeland, especially her father, husband and child, the existence of the latter two having not been previously disclosed. Elizabeth's heart melted, and that evening they returned to Knole together.

Well aware that she would not be able to continue the imposture much longer, Mary determined to confess all. The next morning she followed Elizabeth into her dressing room, and to that lady's surprise turned the key in the lock. They were alone and uninterrupted, so this could have been the moment; but her courage failed her and she said nothing.

Mrs Neale, Mary's former landlady, having read about Caraboo in the newspapers, called that morning upon Dr Mortimer to voice her suspicions. She testified to Mary's remarkable memory, saying that after attending church together Mary had been able to repeat all the points of the sermon. In the evening Mortimer spoke to Elizabeth, and before he left the wheelwright's son also arrived at Knole. Elizabeth's distress and feeling of betrayal can only be imagined, yet she kept her head and decided to obtain firm proof of imposture before taking any action. It must have been an effort for her to behave as if all was well, but she did so, and the following morning announced that she was taking Caraboo to Bristol to finish the sitting for Edward Bird's portrait. Instead, the carriage took the ladies to the home of Dr Mortimer, where Mrs Neale and her daughters were waiting. Elizabeth chose not to confront Mary with the Neales but spoke to them herself, and having obtained the proof she needed, saw Mary alone.

When Elizabeth told Mary she knew she was an impostor, Mary, in a last-ditch attempt to convince her listener that she was genuine, switched continents again, and prattled in Romany, exclaiming ‘Caraboo, Toddy Moddy (father mother) Irish',
¹⁸
but Mrs Worral had been cheated once too often and threatened to bring Mrs Neale into the room.

Mary finally admitted she was a fraud. She was at the mercy of Elizabeth's kindness and she knew it. She begged Elizabeth not to cast her off, and also that they would not send for her father. Elizabeth promised, but on condition that Mary at once give full details of her parentage and history.

Once Mrs Neale had departed, Mary told Dr Mortimer that she had learned about Eastern customs after living for four months in Bombay. Unfortunately for her, Dr Mortimer was familiar with Bombay and knew that this was another lie. It says a great deal for the kindness of Elizabeth and the relationship that had grown up between the two women that she did not at once turn Mary onto the street to fend for herself.

Mary remained with Dr Mortimer and his wife, while Elizabeth, hoping to evoke signs of genuine contrition, arranged for her to receive prayers and sermons, but this made no impression on what one of the clergy called ‘her impenetrable heart'.
¹⁹
So far from being penitent, Mary seemed proud of how many people she had duped and how long she had deceived them. When the imposture became public, there was a widespread Caraboo craze, and everyone, it seemed, wanted to meet her: ‘natives and foreigners, linguists, painters, physiognomists, craniologists, and gypsies'
²⁰
all came to see her, as well as nobility such as the Earl of Cork. The Marquess of Salisbury also requested an interview, but by then she had already left Bristol.

Few could condemn her, and many, like the editor of the
Bristol Mirror
, felt that ‘this unfortunate girl seems to be as much an object of pity as of blame in this affair'.
²¹
The newspapers seemed to share her delight in exposing the pretensions of the self-appointed intelligentsia, and printed numerous poems to her charms and skill at deception. The Worralls must have despaired for their standing in society, and Mr Worrall especially for the fate of the Tolzey Bank, but most of the satire was aimed at Dr Wilkinson, who was nicknamed ‘Dr Caraboo'.

Mary eventually told her full story to John Matthew Gutch, editor of
Felix Farley's Bristol Journal
. The father of her child, John Baker, the bricklayer of Exeter, had now become a handsome foreign gentleman called Bakerstendht or Beckerstein, and interspersed between the periods of domestic service were threads of fantasy and lies. Though Gutch was not immune to her charms, he instituted enquiries of his own. Having obtained corroboration of the more believable events in Mary's life from her parents and employers, and established that she had never been convicted of any crime, the Worralls generously agreed to provide her with money and clothing and pay for her passage to America. She sailed on the
Robert and Ann
on 28 June in the charge of three ladies of the Moravian Church who were going to Philadelphia to teach. It was anticipated that once in America Mary would find a respectable situation, and the three ladies were authorised to present her with further funds if she conducted herself satisfactorily. As the ship prepared to sail, Mary, who was able to see the far-off tower of Knole, thought of what she had lost, and wept.