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Death of Blanche Glover

Possession

Blanche Glover’s suicide is both a death in the Thames and a deliberate testament to the failure of an experiment in women’s independence. Her note names poverty, wounded pride, and the collapse of a shared ideal as its causes; its careful account of possessions and unfinished hopes makes the act an argument about the conditions under which women could live and make art, as well as a final act of self-determination. The later newspaper report fixes the event in public record, while leaving Christabel LaMotte’s whereabouts—and her part in the aftermath—uncertain.

Circumstances and Discovery

The novel reconstructs the suicide through documents assembled by Maud Bailey at the Women’s Studies Resource Centre. The sparse file includes a newspaper report, an inquest transcript, and a copy of the note found at Bethany, the house in Mount Ararat Road that Blanche had once shared with Christabel LaMotte. The note had been weighed down by a granite stone. Maud reads these fragments while trying to account for the period between the women’s Yorkshire journey and the inquest, but the surviving record offers little about Christabel’s movements. The papers establish Blanche’s death more clearly than they explain the separation that preceded it.

The newspaper places the suicide on the night of June 26, in driving wind and rain. Blanche plunged into the swollen Thames; her body was not recovered until June 28, when the low tide cast it onto a gravel bank below Putney Bridge. The account says that foul play was not suspected. Several large, round stones had been sewn into the pockets of her genteel but not opulent clothing, making the means of death part of the public description of the body. The inquest record and the note together identify the death as intentional, but the newspaper’s factual register cannot settle the personal history surrounding it.

The Reasons Blanche Gives

Blanche’s note insists that she acts in sound mind and after long reflection, then arranges her reasons in a sequence. The first is poverty. She can no longer afford paint and has sold little work in recent months. Four flower paintings, wrapped in the drawing room, are intended for sale to Mr Cressy of Richmond Hill; Blanche hopes their price might cover her funeral. She specifically asks that the cost not be charged to Miss LaMotte. The practical detail makes her final statement inseparable from the precarious economics of her artistic life: even the arrangements for her death depend on the possible sale of work that has not found a market.

Her second reason is pride, which she presents not as vanity but as refusal of a constrained future. Blanche cannot bear to enter another household as a governess, a life she describes as hell even when employers are kind. She would rather not live than become a slave, and she will not ask Miss LaMotte for charity because LaMotte has obligations of her own. Her reasoning registers both the force of her resistance and its terrible limit: rejecting dependence does not produce a viable alternative when she has no reliable income or other means of support.

The third reason is the failure of the women’s shared ideal. Blanche says that she and Miss LaMotte had tried, together and separately, to make useful and fully human lives as independent single women, living in one another’s company without reliance on men or outside assistance. They sought a frugal, charitable, philosophical, artistic life in harmony with one another and with Nature. Blanche does not assign the failure to a single cause. She believes the world was fiercely hostile to the experiment, while also conceding that she and LaMotte may at times have lacked the resourcefulness and strength of mind needed to sustain it. Her account holds external constraint and individual vulnerability together rather than allowing either to excuse or erase the other.

Blanche nevertheless imagines the experiment as something that might be taken up again. She hopes that the women’s early experience of economic independence, and the work they leave behind, will encourage stronger spirits to try without failing. Independent women, she warns, must expect more of themselves because men and conventionally domesticated women expect no success from them. The warning is at once a call to persistence and a measure of the unequal burden placed on women attempting to live beyond established domestic arrangements.

Art, Property, and a Lasting Record

The note’s inventory turns private possessions into a record of Blanche’s relationships and artistic convictions. She asks that her well-used Shakespeare, Keats, and Tennyson go to Eliza Daunton, with whom she had often read them. Her few trinkets may go to Jane, but the jet brooch showing two hands clasped in Friendship is to be returned to Miss LaMotte, who gave it to her. The gesture places a shared token back in LaMotte’s hands even as the document records their separation. Blanche also acknowledges that the house belongs to LaMotte and that their jointly bought furnishings belong more to the wealthier partner than to her, a distinction that makes the inequality within their domestic arrangement explicit.

Blanche’s strongest claim to a future lies in her art. She counts twenty-seven finished paintings in the house, besides sketches and drawings, and distinguishes two works that belong to LaMotte: “Christabel before Sir Leoline” and “Merlin and Vivien.” She asks LaMotte to keep them, ideally in the room where she works, so that they might recall happier times. If they bring too much pain, Blanche still forbids their disposal by gift or sale during LaMotte’s lifetime and asks her to provide for them afterward. She calls the paintings the best of herself and argues that, although nothing endures with certainty, good art endures for a time. Her hope to be understood by people not yet born turns the bequest into a claim on future readers and viewers, beyond the market that has failed to sustain her.

She leaves the fate of her other work to LaMotte’s artistic conscience, asking that the paintings remain together if possible until taste and judgment can recognize their worth. At the same time, she knows that she will soon be unable to watch over them. The works must make their own “dumb and fragile way.” That phrase binds artistic survival to the vulnerable material objects themselves: paintings may outlast their maker, but they cannot guarantee either recognition or care. The note’s attention to their custody gives Blanche a final opportunity to advocate for the body of work that her present circumstances have rendered economically unwanted.

Death, Faith, and the Meaning of the Note

Blanche describes an intended method as well as a motive. Taking the author of the Vindication of the Rights of Women as her example, she says that she has sewn large volcanic stones from LaMotte’s writing desk into the pockets of her mantle, hoping to make death quick and certain. The newspaper later reports large stones sewn into the dead woman’s clothing. The correspondence between the private plan and the public account makes the note more than a posthumous explanation: it anticipates the physical evidence by which her death will be recognized and interpreted.

Her confidence that death is not the end rests on spiritualist meetings with Mrs Lees, where she and LaMotte have heard accounts of painless survival beyond death and received what Blanche calls ocular testimony. She entrusts herself to a Maker who may forgive her and put her unused capacities for love and creative work to better use. Her description of herself as superfluous in this world is set against the hope that, on the other side, she will know and be known. The faith gives the note a language of consolation and anticipated reconciliation, but it does not cancel the worldly despair that has led her to act. She asks for mercy for herself and for everyone, making the ending simultaneously personal and communal.

The document is also shaped as a testament despite its acknowledged legal weakness: Blanche says it cannot be enforced as a will under the circumstances, but asks that it be treated with equivalent respect. She states her reasons, allocates books and belongings, identifies the paintings she hopes will be preserved, and describes her death. Its orderly form stands in painful contrast to the extreme vulnerability it records. In the narrative, Maud shivers as she reads and wonders what LaMotte thought on encountering it. Because the archive has so little else about Blanche, the note becomes at once evidence of a death, an account of a failed shared life, and Blanche’s surviving attempt to direct how her work and memory will be handled.

Aftermath and Narrative Significance

The newspaper reports that Blanche lived alone in a house once shared with the poetess Christabel LaMotte, whose whereabouts were unknown at the time. Jane Summers, the recently dismissed house-parlourmaid, is named as the source for the report that LaMotte had been absent for some time; police sought her current residence, and she was found for the inquest. The account leaves the circumstances of that absence unresolved. Earlier LaMotte scholars had explained the women’s separation as a quarrel, but Maud recognizes that Blanche’s note changes how the rupture looks without making it clear. The suicide therefore unsettles an existing scholarly explanation rather than supplying a complete replacement.

Blanche’s death also exposes the limits of the archive through which later characters try to recover the past. Her reasons and wishes survive in unusually articulate form, but the record cannot tell Maud where LaMotte was, why she had gone, or what she thought when she read the note. The surviving documents preserve Blanche’s own account of economic hardship, the impossibility she felt in returning to domestic service, and the collapse of the women’s shared plan; they do not close the gaps around her relationship with LaMotte. Her final statement thus resists being reduced either to private misfortune or to a simple political emblem. It records a particular woman’s choices and attachments while showing how little the evidence can recover of the life and companionship that preceded them.