THE LEGION OF THE MISSING.

Otago Witness, Issue 3655, 1 April 1924, Page 66

THE LEGION OF THE MISSING.

GIRLS WHO VANISH FROM HOME. LOSS OF MEMORY AND MARRIAGE INTRIGUES. THE LIGHT THAT NEVER FAILED. By Vincent Wray. (For the Witness.) A man in the uniform of the Sussex police, whilst on his beat along the Parade at Hastings, noticed a woman young, attractive and in evident distress. Her face was set in the direction of a sullen sea; she was waving her arms; and the officer feared that she would — as so many have done—rush into the water to end lier life. He stopped and questioned her. Her manner indicated that for the time being recollection had abdicated its throne. When asked her name, all she could, or would, reply sounded like “Molly-Molly-Beaney.” Taken to the infirmary, she would say no more. And now she has been remanded to a home under a name that is probably strange, romantic, and tragic. When the announcement that she had been found, and was unidentified, was first made, letters began to pour into the post bag of the authorities, begging for more detailed information, since the writers suspected that the girl might be a relative or a friend. I have seen some of the letters—two have reached me personally —and all reveal the sad sad story of the “missing.” One of these documents, which lies before me as I write, is from a woman who resides in a thoroughfare off the Hessle Road, Hull. Let me quote from this intensely human document—“l am a widow, and some months since my only child, a girl, disappeared from home. L'p to that time she had not given me an instant’s anxiety. She was a good girl, and was by no means ‘flighty,’ or given to what is called ‘fast life.’ She is only eighteen years of age, and I am afraid that she may have got into wrong hands. I dread the worst. Is there a chance that the girl found is my own. Do find out, and end the suspense of a broken-hearted mother.” I have replied as sympathetically as I could, but the Hastings derelict presents no solution of the mother’s problem. And other mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters have met with equal disappointment. The case has the effect of throwing into a lurid light the vastness of the mighty legion of the “missing.” I have been at some pains to inquire into this subject, and to present possible solutions to what appeared to be unanswerable riddles, and in the course of my investigations I came upon several instances which present the most dramatic phases of melodrama and tragedy. Not very long since a woman-—a teacher of dancing—was sent to Holloway Prison for having taken a young girl of tender years out of the country without first obtaining the written consent of her parents. The case was made public in consequence of the troup with which she was associated being stranded, when ail manner of horrible suggestions were made to them by the landlord of a Dutch Hotel whose bills were unpaid. As it happened they reached their home in safety, though, of course, in the deepest distress and agony of soul and mind. Unhappily these girls are not the only ones who have suffered in this way, nor have all such cases ended so happily. A closo personal friend of mine, whose business takes him frequently to ’South America, happened to enter a cabaret of an undesirable kind In Buenos Ayres. There his attention was attracted to a woman who was still young, and who had once been beautiful. The pathos in her eyes, and a wistful expression, led the man to make Inquiries. Tho narrative

she gave him was of a remarkable char acter.

Born in the West Country, the girl was anxious to go to London, and there entered domestic service with a highly respectable family. She was allowed “out” on certain nights, and, on one of these, got into contact with a plausible fellow, who spoke with a slightly foreign accent. He made passionate and violent love to tier, and, overwhelmed by his audacious personality, she agreed to marry him in secret, and at a registrar’s office, in the East End of London. Suddenly she disappeared, and it became the sad duty of her mistress to inform her parents, simple country people, that their daughter was missing. They made fevered inquiries, went to the police, scoured the metropolis. All in vain. No trace was discovered; no clue that might lead to the recovery of the missing girl. The truth, as my friend discovered, was that she had been taken to the South American port, and there literally “ sold ” to cruel and relentless taskmasters.

The sequel has a tragic interest. My friend saw the British Consul, and offered himself to defray her expenses, if she would return to her home. She agreed, but, on the eve when she was to sail, she vanished from the lodgings that had been obtained for her, leaving behind her a note to say that she could not face the ordeal of meeting her people again, and had chosen a quick and certain way out of her deplorable condition. She was never again traced. Less than a year ago I wrote a story in which there figured a school teacher who vanished from her home. Within a. week of its publication the ed’tor of the magazine in which it appeared had several letters suggesting that I must have known of the circumstances under which other girls had left their homes, a-nd imploring me, if that were so, to communicate with the writers. Whilst I was investigating the strange fact that 25,000. people vanish inexplicably every year in England alone, I came across many instances of missing women. There was one that came from Hull, and which, amazing in its circumstance, has never yet been cleared up. A young shop assistant, of excellent character and some pretensions to good looks, went with her mother into a restaurant near the Monument Bridge. -Tho two had tea and cakes, and then the mother went to the cash desk to pay the small bill. When she had paid it she turned to speak to a girl who was behind, thinking that it was her daughter. She was a stranger, and her daughter had vanished. Though upset by the incident, the woman returned home, expecting that the girl had gone there. But she had not returned; and from that day to this, despite the activities of one of the most famous firms of private detectives, she has never been traced.

\\ hat makes the affair the stranger ;s that she had no intrigues, no special companions, no assoc ’ a Eons which might have led her to leave a good and comfortable home. There seems to me to be no possible solution that fits the case or accounts for the remarkable happening. Let there have been instances which have ended more or less satisfactorily. One night a woman entered Scotland Y ara and asked to see an officer in charge. She came in an excited state, and explained that her daughter, Phyllis, was missing from home. She begged the officer before whom she laid the facts to make early and exhaustive investigations. Now all such cases receive careful and complete attention. When a person is reported missing all the police are notified, and, if a photograph is supplied, copies are printed, with the result that every constable on his beat has the “ likeness ' of the absent one imprinted on the retina of his mind.

Night clubs, dancing saloons, restaurants are visited. All who are believed to bear a resemblance to the missing person are interviewed. The full resources of the authorities are exploded. And, in the case to w nich I am alluding, success came within three weeks—weeks of a-gonisinr suspense to the broken-hearted parents. Then it was discovered that the. girl had married a foreigner, and knew that her father would have bitterly resented and rigorously opposed such a union. She was living in a small suburban street, where her husband*carried on his business as a working tailor. So delighted were the parents to have news of their dear one that they agreed to recognise the man as their son-in-law. Unfortunately the husband turned out to be a rasea'i and ran away from his wife and his marital obligations.

. I have heard of other instances of a similar kind, in which girls have run away from respectable homes to rnarry men of other nationalities, and, as a rule such matches have turned out to be far from satisfactory. It seems a pitv that lelafst” ] h f Ve n ° option > Provided the le D al stipulations are earned through but FnoFci! On Vi e cei ; em ™y that unites an t°!ui glrl to a foreigner. But. this is oy the way.

acSmds V° d ° Ubt t! ,' at loss of memory accunts for many otherwise unaccountable disappearances. Once, when I happened to be m Newcastle-on-Tyne a and declared that I saw tbn! k a n ° tlon ° f her 'dentity. I saw that she was m earnest, and I went with her to the police station, and intro duced her to a friend who was then the chief inspector. He, too, believed lie? stop,, and induced her to sit in the station whilst inquiries were made. the dfi tl,a y fche 3 womarl was taken to therp thT?’ and W3S While she was M w ' a ® recognised as a woman who had left a mining village to do some shopping, and had suddenly lost her memory Such a thing, a prominent doctor tells me, is a well-established fact and those subject to such attacks require medical attention. I cannot leave this subject and it is one that fascinates me —without giving the case of a woman who, living in the East End of London, kept a light burning each night in case

lier missing daughter should unexpectedly return. There were people who smiled at what they called the old woman’s foolishness.

Yet, though years had elapsed since she vanished, the daughter did return, and was welcomed with all the earnestness and pathos of a mother’s deathless love. I say to those who have absent dear ones never to lose hope. The world is wide, and is crowded with surprises. lam hopeful, however, that the stringent enactments of the new bill, if it should pass on to the Statute Book, will do something to prevent the activities of scoundrels, who, without ruth or pity, play upon the susceptibilit’.es of young people, and induce them to disappear from happy homes.