Anna Katharine Green

• Born: November 11, 1846
• Birthplace: Brooklyn, New York
• Died: April 11, 1935
• Place of death: Buffalo, New York

Types of Plot: Police procedural; private investigator; historical

Principal Series: Ebenezer Gryce, 1878-1917; Caleb Sweetwater, 1899-1910

Contribution

Although Anna Katharine Green was neither the first woman to publish crime fiction nor the first American to write a detective novel, her efforts were taken as distinctive advances in a genre that had only begun to emerge as a separate literary form. Many of the features with which mystery devotees were to become familiar were utilized in her works. With the wise and methodical detective as a pivotal figure, clues and evidence were adroitly dispersed about her narrative, and from a relatively small number of suspects, solutions that were startling and yet plausible were reached. Many of Green’s novels concerned family crises, where secret marriages, scheming relatives, or missing persons added poignant notes of lurking intrigues; her works were constructed systematically, around factual questions, clearly differentiating themselves from the novels of the mid-Victorian period. Affinities with gothic fiction arose here and there, where Green suggested ghosts and strange footfalls, but these signs became explicable in all cases when crimes and other secrets were laid open. For some time early in her life, Green had written Romantic poetry, and the atmosphere and overtones associated with that genre probably impart some melodramatic qualities to her detective novels. While several influences seem to converge in her work, Green’s crime fiction also promoted relatively new forms of evidence and reasoning.

Particular mention should be made of early reactions to Green’s writings, which did much to preserve her reputation even after the vicissitudes of literary tastes seemed to turn against her works. After her first novel, The Leavenworth Case: A Lawyer’s Story (1878), was published, under her own name, the Pennsylvania legislature debated whether its author actually could have been a woman. Later the novel was used at Yale University for the purpose of illustrating means by which circumstantial evidence could be misleading. Wilkie Collins acknowledged his admiration for the powers of imagination manifested in that work. Green’s novels were steadily in demand throughout her lifetime; among the American and British statesmen who enjoyed her works were Woodrow Wilson and Stanley Baldwin. Although subsequently her renown declined as readers’ preferences turned toward shorter works of a more straightforward style, specialists repeatedly have accorded Green a place of importance in the development of mystery fiction. For that matter, special honorable citations of her efforts were made by leading characters in the fiction of John Dickson Carr and Agatha Christie. Green has also received attention as a female writer whose position in the field of detective fiction indicated the paths by which the genre could be enriched.

Biography

A major influence on Anna Katharine Green’s literary career was her home situation. Anna, who was born in Brooklyn, New York, on November 11, 1846, was the second daughter and fourth child of James Wilson Green and Catherine Ann Whitney Green, who died about three years after Anna’s birth. Her father was an important attorney who practiced in New York and was involved in many criminal cases. During her early years, Anna Katharine Green learned enough about officers on the metropolitan police force to depict them as rather ordinary except for their expertise in handling investigations. There may also have been a real-life counterpart to the female detective Amelia Butterworth.

In the course of an education that was concluded with a baccalaureate degree from the Ripley Female College in Poultney, Vermont, Green became interested in Romantic poetry; indeed, at one time she had discussed such matters directly with Ralph Waldo Emerson and corresponded with him briefly. Some of her verse was published in leading journals of that day, but the tepid reception such efforts received caused her to pursue fiction. By her own account Green derived some inspiration from the police novels ofÉmile Gaboriau; evidently her father did not encourage her work on detective fiction, thinking it better for her to continue with her poetry. Although The Leavenworth Case was written in some secrecy, after it appeared it was widely acclaimed—and demand mounted for her subsequent detective novels. Although The Defence of the Bride, and Other Poems was published in 1882, and was followed five years later by Risifi’s Daughter (pb. 1887), a drama in verse, the success of Green’s mystery fiction already had set the die for the remainder of her literary work.

In 1884, Green wed Charles Rohlfs, an actor seven years younger than she who later turned to the design of iron stoves and furniture. Two sons and one daughter were born to them, and in time they made their home in Buffalo, New York. Green’s work is often cataloged under her married name, and royalties from her writings provided most of the household’s earnings. In addition to community and educational matters, the author concerned herself with international copyright legislation, possibly as a reflection of the success of her works abroad; during her lifetime, her works were translated into French, German, Dutch, Danish, and Swedish. Apart from a visit to Europe in 1890, however, much of her life was spent in or around her home. At times she granted requests for interviews, and on occasion she also discussed in print her theories on the fascination crime stories exercised over their readers. Indeed, sometimes local newspapers recalled the stages in Green’s career that had brought her to the forefront of American mystery writers. For the most part, however, she did not seek public attention. Green lived to celebrate her fiftieth wedding anniversary, and about five and one-half months later she died in Buffalo on April 11, 1935.

Analysis

Most considerations of Anna Katharine Green’s literary achievements begin with an exposition of the salient and noteworthy features of The Leavenworth Case; indeed, this work has much in common with Green’s later efforts, though she manifested rather more versatility and ingenuity elsewhere than some commentators have allowed. In any event, her most famous novel has generally been accorded special attention for its innovative qualities. For that matter, certain devices and techniques, when they were adopted by later writers, eventually became hackneyed, whereas at the outset of her career Green’s approach to crime fiction was praised by many for its freshness and originality.

The Leavenworth Case

The opening chapters pose the problem in its most direct yet enigmatic form. When Horatio Leavenworth, a wealthy retired merchant, is found shot to death in his mansion in New York, and the fatal bullet is traced to the dead man’s pistol (which was left cleaned and reloaded at its usual place in an adjoining bedroom), certain individuals readily come under suspicion. Diagrams (which the author often supplied in her novels) suggest the path that the murderer may have taken; as no signs of surprise or struggle could be inferred from the victim’s posture, it is presumed throughout that the guilty party was well known to him. The work is narrated by Everett Raymond, a junior partner in a law firm. Almost from the beginning Raymond consults with Ebenezer Gryce, who has been recommended for his ability to assess the relative importance of facts and statements.

Speculation mounts about the dead man’s nieces. One of them, Mary Leavenworth, refuses to answer questions about a document that had been within her reach—and then privately admits that it exists no longer. The other, Eleanore, seems implicated by the discovery of a monogrammed handkerchief with gun soot on it, and a broken key to the library also is found in her possession. The contrast between the two leading female suspects, one blonde and one dark, is developed with a certain dramatic flair as it emerges that each of them is less than forthcoming on crucial points. In keeping with the emphasis on empirical methods, new problems of proof arise at each turn of the plot. On the other hand, the narrator’s subjective beliefs that character and bearing should mitigate the harsher suppositions circumstantial evidence has raised against the leading women add a further element of personal concern that seems justified by the outcome.

While the disappearance of Hannah Chester, a servant who may know more than the others about the fateful night, has some ominous overtones, other problems of motivation are considered when it becomes known that the final will of the deceased man did not favor one niece over the other so much as had been thought. The narrator is presented with evidence that Mary has been secretly married, to one Henry Clavering; fragments of an important letter, with bloodstains on them, and an inscription readily traced to her seem to cast further doubts on Mary’s intentions. Trueman Harwell, an assistant the dead man had originally employed to prepare one of his books for publication, seems persuaded that Clavering was the guilty one. Careful research and a fair amount of footwork are required to trace the movements of leading characters; these are set down in a chronological table, and at intervals there are enumerated lists of major facts and questions outstanding.

Mr. Q, who is adept at disguises and can follow instructions from memory, scurries about to observe more closely the comings and goings at the Leavenworth mansion. When Hannah Chester is found dead with a packet of poison nearby and when a note ostensibly written by her is discovered, the mystery is thrown open once more. Yet it is resolved finally through the brooding intelligence of Mr. Gryce, who openly accuses Mary only as a stratagem to compel the original murderer to confess. Critics have objected that on one point the final reasoning seems awry. Gryce contends somewhat arbitrarily that it would be impossible for a woman to clean a pistol: Thus, from the very outset he had considered other possibilities.

Other Gryce Cases

In his next case, A Strange Disappearance (1880), Gryce takes up the clues leading to a missing woman from a wealthy household of New York who has been abducted by bandits. Q, who narrates this work, at one point poses as a seedy French artist (he also climbs a tree to enter a house). The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life (1881), one of the author’s lengthier works, has Gryce brought in toward the end after securities have been taken from a bank vault.

Hand and Ring

The author regarded Hand and Ring (1883), one of the more popular of her early works, as her personal favorite among her novels. In that novel, Green introduced Caleb Sweetwater and Horace Byrd as two of Gryce’s more prominent subordinates. The murder of a seemingly inoffensive woman in her own house and the discovery of a diamond ring that was detached from her finger lead to some odd and chilling scenes. One suspect, in despair, attempts to cut his own throat, while the initial conundrum cannot be resolved in the courtroom. It comes to light that Gryce, disguised as a humpbacked man, has gathered further evidence; eventually a secret marriage, involving one of the least likely characters, is disclosed as the basis for the crime.

Byrd makes another appearance in Seven to Twelve (1887); he and Gryce work together in A Matter of Millions (1890), while Q is called back to aid his superior in Behind Closed Doors (1888). The limitations under which Gryce had to operate seemed to call for more active and astute participation by other detectives who were brought in to assist him. Although by the standards of his time Gryce is well versed in problems of scientific evidence—he can distinguish among grades of writing paper and the types of ash they produce when burned, and he is knowledgeable about ballistics and toxicology—he is far from all-knowing, and rarely are his cases closed without the services of his able assistants.

Amelia Butterworth

The appearance of female detectives in Green’s works helped to demonstrate the possibilities this form of characterization offered, the more so as at that time female protagonists typically were cast as victims or villains. Amelia Butterworth, from an aristocratic New England family, is on most counts a level-headed and forward sort; notwithstanding her awareness of her social position, she has few qualms about exploring old houses or peering into closets where major clues are to be found. In due course, Gryce’s skepticism about her capacities as an investigator gives way to grudging respect when the inferences she draws yield essential insights. In That Affair Next Door (1897), her notions concerning what a woman of gentility would do with her hat and gloves are instrumental in solving a difficult case. Subsequently, her efforts to fathom the old family secrets of those in a mysterious neighborhood and her forthright ventures into finding clues in an old house produce information that Gryce, described as giving in to his advanced age, could scarcely have obtained himself.

Yet the old master is able to reason from the facts on hand to settle the problem of Lost Man’s Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth (1898) in a way that had not occurred to his female associate. In this work the complementary qualities of the two leading detectives seem to suggest that the author did not conceive of any particular type as unerring or indomitable. Caleb Sweetwater, who had acted in an auxiliary capacity earlier, becomes more prominent in some subsequent cases. Although he originally had been portrayed as a vaguely comic figure, increasingly his acumen and critical faculties are displayed. In Agatha Webb (1899) he outwits another lawman to arrive at the solution to a curious puzzle.

The Circular Study

A well-known work from the author’s later career, The Circular Study (1900), presents a baffling maze of clues and suppositions that has the added attraction of showing three major detectives at work on an unusual crime. When a reclusive inventor who lived in a remote neighborhood is found dead, the evidence seems to point nowhere in particular. There are few signs of a struggle, but an enigmatic note, clenched between the dead man’s teeth, a cross that was pulled down from his wall, and the cryptic utterances of a pet English starling that enunciates the names of women who cannot be identified at the outset seem to suggest that some controversy from the past lies behind this murder. A deaf and mute butler who was on the scene and an odd array of mechanical contrivances that the dead man had installed add further touches of uncanny gloom.

Some comic moments arise when Miss Butterworth, during her own investigation, leaves traces of her presence, which Gryce briefly and mistakenly considers as further evidence. Sweetwater assists in finding those involved in a tangled family saga from years past that had led eventually to the old man’s death; an illustrative floor plan and an enumerated series of open questions (which later are marked answered) allow the reader to follow this venture in collaborative deduction. In One of My Sons (1901), Sweetwater utilizes Gryce’s extensive expertise—described as the result of more than sixty years of such work. Both of them take part in Initials Only (1911), where a seemingly inexplicable murder is explained as the effect of an ice pellet that had killed and then melted away. Their final joint effort is recounted in The Mystery of the Hasty Arrow (1917). In his own right Sweetwater demonstrates the extent to which he grasps the old detective’s methods for handling cases; in addition to settling the troubled matter of The Woman in the Alcove (1906), he could, very much like his mentor, employ a ruse to draw the truth from an obdurate and outwardly unlikely suspect, as demonstrated in The House of the Whispering Pines (1910).

The Golden Slipper and Other Problems for Violet Strange

As an operative for a detective agency, Violet Strange in some respects resembled private investigators who had begun to appear elsewhere in mystery fiction. In the stories in The Golden Slipper and Other Problems for Violet Strange (1915), her work includes recovering some missing diamonds, determining the nature of a mysterious shooting, and locating a will that a somnambulant heiress unwittingly misplaced. All the while personal concerns also make their claims on Strange, though she is able to separate social matters from the more serious demands of her employment. (Although her handling of clues is partly intuitive and does not approach the level of scientific expertise manifested by the author’s first detective, curiously enough one short novel, The Doctor, His Wife, and the Clock, 1895, which affords a rare glimpse of Mr. Gryce during his early years, resurfaced with a different leading character and in a slightly reworked form in the collection of works that feature Miss Strange.) Later, Strange’s romantic inclinations toward a young man of Boston and her interest in her older sister’s career as an opera singer become foremost in her thoughts, and her ventures as an investigator are brought to a close.

In many of Green’s novels, particularly those that did not utilize a series format, she yielded to her penchant for breathless and rather high-flown sorts of imagery and description, possibly in keeping with her early ambitions as a poet and a dramatist; such efforts produced sentimental and melodramatic overtones that awkwardly tilted any balance that might have been struck between the narrative pace of crime fiction and the more leisurely development of love interests. Even her more carefully constructed offerings were burdened with a prolix and ponderous style that blunted the effects of some otherwise finely conceived tales. Moreover, her handling of dialogue was often undistinguished, as her characters often lapsed into patterns of discourse that resembled those of her narrators.

The Forsaken Inn and Marked “Personal”

On the other hand, many of Green’s novels presented problems that were original and intrinsically interesting. As with her series novels, some of her other mystery works could not necessarily be solved unaided, in their entirety, by the reader. Often the trail of clues would lead to disclosures of past liaisons and intrigues that lay behind violent deeds. Indeed in The Forsaken Inn (1890), a full-fledged historical mystery dealing with events from the eighteenth century, a supposed curse is laid to rest partly through the perusal of manuscripts. Individuals with unusual scientific ideas or aptitudes appear in some works: for example, a deranged inventor who had created an odd electrodynamic machine in Marked “Personal” (1893).

The Filigree Ball and Dark Hollow

It would seem likely that the legal lore she learned early in life figured in some of Green’s quasi-documentary narratives. The Filigree Ball, Being a Full and True Account of the Solution of the Mystery Concerning the Jeffrey-Moore Affair (1903) uses newspaper accounts the author composed to supplement more direct statements made on the part of leading characters; the discovery of a cunningly devised contrivance to strike a skull adds some macabre touches toward the end. One of the more highly rated of the author’s later novels is Dark Hollow (1914), which concerns a celebrated crime and trial. The narrator of this novel gathers evidence from newspaper clippings and other materials to arrive at a new solution to a past case. Along the way, further evidence, such as a previously overlooked bit of steel in the stick the killer used, is uncovered, and some unsavory facts about a local judge are brought forth.

The Mayor’s Wife and The Step on the Stair

Green was adept at devising puzzles where strange writings, which were sometimes disguised or found in fragments, eventually yielded crucial secrets. The Mayor’s Wife (1907), which deals with a mysterious illness and a secret marriage, features some odd inscriptions that are deciphered in a way that takes the methods of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Gold Bug” (1843) one step further. In this novel, and in other works, Green, while depicting fears of ghostly spirits among the more credulous characters, also produced natural explanations for strange emanations by introducing evidence found in secret chambers or hidden passageways. Details of this sort enliven The Step on the Stair (1923), Green’s final fictional work, in which the origins of some curious apparitions are traced to a hiding place for vital documents in an old house.

Although in a certain sense the importance of Green’s works can hardly be disregarded, her work occupies an unusual position in the mystery and detective genre. Among those familiar with early detective fiction, her novels have been recognized as innovative and significant. Yet her works have been criticized by newcomers to the genre—perhaps because of the widespread application of techniques she pioneered; for once clues, testimony, and deductive reasoning became standard features of mystery writing, her works were consigned to a lesser status. To be sure, there are many positive aspects of Green’s oeuvre. It seems likely that many of her novels will continue to impress devotees of detective fiction.

Principal Series Characters:

• Ebenezer Gryce , a detective working for the New York police force, is first described as middle-aged, stolid, and portly; toward the end of his career he is depicted variously as about eighty or eighty-five years old. Gryce’s methods combine discerning assessment of evidence and testimony with surprise tactics used to elicit essential information from reluctant suspects. Gryce feels ill at ease in dealing with those of a higher social station, and it is awkward and painful for him to confront well-born and attractive women. He rarely, if ever, looks anyone directly in the eyes.
• Mr. Q (for “Query”), who typically prefers carrying a calling card with a single question mark to using his actual name, is a subordinate who is employed because of his extraordinary ability to uncover clues.
• Horace Byrd , another younger detective, is described as an attractive man with a cultivated bearing. Unlike Gryce, Byrd feels little discomfort in dealing with his social betters.
• Caleb Sweetwater assumes significant and demanding functions alongside Gryce in several novels before taking on major responsibilities in his own right. In some works he and Gryce contribute in roughly equal measure to the solution of cases where the younger man’s mobility and growing expertise are complemented by his aging mentor’s shrewdness. Sweetwater’s projecting nose and receding chin leave an impression of outright ugliness that is offset mainly by his ready smile and his cheerful, modest demeanor. With respect to Gryce, Sweetwater never seems moved by rivalry; even in their next-to-last case together, Sweetwater is presented as one of Gryce’s favorite protégés.
• Amelia Butterworth , a middle-aged single woman who is inquisitive and obstinately self-reliant, acts as an informal though rather effective adjutant for Gryce. She turns out to be particularly good at extracting clues from difficult locations; two important cases reach successful conclusions partly because of her tenacity and boldness in searching for evidence where Gryce would find it difficult to go. In spite of some occasional reservations Gryce may have about her suitability for such tasks, she probably does about as well as her male counterparts in the field of detection.
• Violet Strange , who appears on her own in a collection of stories, is of a rather different stamp. Her existence is quite varied, as the demands of an active social calendar must be reconciled with the requirements of her work for a private-detective agency. She seems slight, a mere slip of a woman, whose contagious wit and sparkling eyes conceal a deep measure of self-possession and resourcefulness. While the inferences she elucidates from available evidence sometimes appear intuitive, along the way she is also shown as becoming learned in the ways of the world.

Bibliography

DuBose, Martha Hailey, with Margaret Caldwell Thomas. Women of Mystery: The Lives and Works of Notable Women Crime Novelists. New York: St. Martin’s Minotaur, 2000. Examines the life and work of Green, noting how the success of The Leavenworth Case launched her career. Discusses her in relation to other writers of the time.

Harkins, E. F. “Anna Katharine Green.” In Famous Authors (Women). Boston: L. C. Page, 1906. Green is profiled alongside other women who wrote books that were famous at the turn of the twentieth century.

Hayne, Barrie. “Anna Katharine Green.” In Ten Women of Mystery, edited by Earl F. Bargainnier. Bowling Green, Ohio: Bowling Green State University Popular Press, 1981. Compares Green’s work to that of nine of her fellow female mystery writers, including Mary Roberts Reinhart and Josephine Tey.

Huang, Jim, ed. They Died In Vain: Overlooked, Underappreciated, and Forgotten Mystery Novels. Carmel, Ind.: Crum Creek Press, 2002. Green is among the authors discussed in this book about mystery novels that never found the audience they deserved.

Maida, Patricia D. Mother of Detective Fiction: The Life and Works of Anna Katharine Green. Bowling Green, Ohio: Bowling Green State University Popular Press, 1989. Monograph delving into the biography and fiction of Green, written by a scholar but aimed at a popular audience. Bibliographic references and index.

Murch, A. E. “Women Writers of Detective Fiction in the Nineteenth Century.” In The Development of the Detective Novel. New York: Philosophical Library, 1958. Emphasizes Green’s role as both a trailblazing female author and a significant innovator of an emergent genre.