The Journal of the Bootmakers of Toronto Volume 34 Number 1 Fall 2011 Canadian Holmes is published by The Bootmakers of Toronto, the Sherlock Holmes Society of Canada.
Bootprints (editors) are Mark and JoAnn Alberstat, 46 Kingston Crescent, Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, B3A 2M2 Canada, to whom letters and editorial submissions should be addressed. E-mail: [email protected]
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Cover: This issue’s cover is by American artist Tom Richmond.
Canadian Holmes Volume 34 Number 1 Fall 2011 One hundred and twenty-eighth issue
Contents Canadian Holmes Volume 34 Number 1 Traces of Bootprints 1 By Mark Alberstat
Duet with An Occasional Chorus 2 A song parody by Karen Campbell and Craig Brtnik
A Toast to The Woman 3 By Roger Burrows
From Mrs. Hudson’s Kitchen 4 By Wendy Heyman-Marsaw
Sherlock in Jerusalem 5 By Hartley R. Nathan, Clifford F. Goldfarb and Joseph T. Kessel
The Lost Special 19 By Peter Wood
A Rememberance of Peter Wood 30
A look at the Brothers of Baker Street series 31 By Chris Redmond
Letters From Lomax 33 Musings from Peggy Perdue
A Letter to the Editor 35
The Bootmakers and the ACD Collection of the Toronto 36 Public Library By Dayna Nuhn
A Toast to Dr. Watson: The Original Good Cop 37 By Susan Fitch
News Notes 38 A roundup of Canadian Sherlockian events
Bootmakers’ Diary 39 A roundup of Bootmaker events
RACES OF BOOTPRINTS
We are all one big community
he Sherlockian world can be seen as a community or a series of interwoven communities. There is the Canadian Sherlockian community, T the online Sherlockian community, the international Sherlockian community and, of course, the local Sherlockian community which meets at members’ homes and local hotspots for face to face meetings, debates and bragging rights on show and tell items. One Bootmaker who was part of all of those communities was Peter Wood. This issue features an article by Peter, a Vancouver Sherlockian who passed away in July. Peter was a frequent contributor to Canadian Holmes and was also one of the first Sherlockians to contact us with congratulations on taking over the reins of this journal. Peter’s articles have always been well researched, well thought-out and well written. Peter was an active Sherlockian with his local club and also online. A Sherlockian like Peter will be missed by all of the Sherlockian communities that he touched, local and worldwide. For more on Peter’s life please see page 30. The world itself can be a backdrop for the Sherlockian, as a trio of authors shows us in our second installment of a four-part series on Sherlock Holmes and the Jewish connection. This article takes the reader on a wide-ranging tour describing Holmes’ wandering during his great hiatus. The Sherlockian community is also a friendly one. Those of us who like to travel can almost always organize some kind of Sherlockian gathering when we are away from home. Your Bootprints were fortunate enough to be in Montreal for this summer’s jazz festival. Sadly, nothing of a Sherlockian note was scheduled for the festival but we did meet up with Paul Billett of the Bimetallic Question. Les Trois Brasseurs was the venue for our meeting but the wide ranging conversation could have occurred anywhere. Travelling and meeting Sherlockians should be as much a part of this passtime that we all embrace as collecting books, reading the Canon or enjoying the latest pastiche. Meeting others expands our own small Sherlockian community and also widens our appreciation of our clubs and our love for the stories of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The October conference in Toronto will give many of us just such an opportunity. The editors are looking forward to meeting many of the authors we have worked with in the past two years and expanding our own Sherlockian community.
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 1 Duet with An Occasional Chorus
The following song parody was written by Karen Campbell and Craig Brtnik and performed for a Bootmakers meeting when Wisteria Lodge was examined.
Don’t Cry for Mr. Garcia (sung to the tune of Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina, by Andrew Lloyd Webber)
Don’t cry for Mr. Garcia It won’t be easy. You’ll find it strange When I try to explain what was real Why it really was twelve when he said it was one You won’t believe me All you will see Is a man you once knew A joke that turned into a crime A murder near blamed upon you!
He had to let it happen; he had to go Couldn’t leave his dear homeland to drown In the rivers of blood that a tyrant made flow So he chose freedom Running around on a dictator’s trail And nothing could stop him at all. He never expected to fail!
Don’t cry for Mister Garcia The truth is, he had to leave you. All through that wild night of sad resistance He kept his promise; don’t keep your distance.
And as for freedom and as for truth That’s why you invited him in Though it seemed at the time these were not his desire. It was illusion But not the solution they promised to be The answer was there all the time For you were his hope to go free.
2 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 Don’t cry for Mister Garcia The truth is, he had to leave you. All through that wild night of sad resistance He kept his promise; don’t keep your distance.
That’s all there is; there’s nothing more I can say to you. But all you have to do is look at me to know That every word is true.
A Toast to The Woman
The following toast by Roger Burrows, was presented to the Bimetallic Question at their June 2nd, 2011 meeting.
o the best of my knowledge, The Bimetallic Question has been toasting The T Woman since its beginnings. At six toasts per year (seven including the dinner), that makes around 200 toasts, probably more words than the whole of A Scandal in Bohemia. So the question always is: what can I say that’s new and, even better, interesting? My approach this evening will, I hope, fulfill at least one of these criteria. Instead of The Woman, I propose to toast the woman, that generic damsel- in-distress who appears in so many of Watson’s stories. She may be someone who makes things happen: in this case she is often not English, like Irene Adler, or Mary Fraser in The Abbey Grange, or Hatty Doran in The Noble Bachelor. Or she may be more passive, such as Violet Hunter in The Copper Beeches, Mary Sutherland in A Case of Identity, or Helen Stoner in The Speckled Band; someone to whom trouble comes through no action of their own. The woman is often someone trying to make her own way in a male- dominated society with very limited opportunities. Apart from marrying or being a governess, there isn’t much a middle-class or upper-class woman is allowed to do in Victorian society. But when trouble beckons, she always has the sense to call on Holmes for help, and he always helps. That’s why the woman is essential to Holmes and to us. Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses to the woman!
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 3 From Mrs. Hudson’s Kitchen
Previous columns have been written by the editors. This edition is by Mrs. Hudson herself and dictated to Wendy Heyman-Marsaw, a Sherlockian living in Halifax.
Her cuisine is a little limited, but she has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotchwoman ― Sherlock Holmes in The Adventure of the Naval Treaty
The English breakfast owes much to the Scots. They eat more substantial breakfasts than the English, Welsh or Irish. Scottish influence is evident every time one eats porridge, kippers, sausage or marmalade, which was first produced in the 1790s by Keiller of Dundee. I always provide a hearty meal for Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, for it may be the only sustenance they have for a protracted period of time. My two gentlemen enjoy upper-class Victorian breakfasts when working for well-to-do clients. Such meals include, at minimum, fruit and porridge, cold tomatoes and ham, fancy rolls, assorted jams and marmalades, bacon, sausages and mushrooms, boiled, fried and scrambled eggs, toast, kedgeree, kidneys and broiled kippers, plus tea and coffee. The middle-classes enjoy a more traditional English breakfast consisting of bacon, sausage, fried eggs, fried bread, fried potatoes and grilled tomatoes. A. Kenney Herbert wrote a very good cookery book, Fifty Breakfasts, in 1894 for middle-class families of six.
Kedgeree 4 oz. rice, 4 eggs, 1lb cooked whitefish (haddock, turbot, sole, salmon or pike) or ½ white and ½ smoked haddock or salmon for a stronger flavour, butter, salt, pepper. Serves 4. Cook rice until tender. Boil 4 eggs very hard and when cold, chop them small. Take the remains of fish previously broiled, flake it finely and mix all together. Put the mixture into a large saucepan with a lump of butter. Stew it until thoroughly hot, stirring constantly to prevent burning. Season with salt and pepper and serve very hot. Take care not to make it too moist.
Savoury Eggs 1-2 oz. cooked bacon, chopped parsley, pepper, 2 eggs, salt, 1 Tbs. milk or cream. Serves 1-2. Dice cold bacon, mix with parsley and season with pepper. For each serving, put in a small tart tin or serving dish. Beat 2 eggs with a little salt, a tablespoon of milk or cream, and pour over bacon. Bake in a moderate oven until the eggs are set.
4 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 Sherlock in Jerusalem
By Hartley R. Nathan, Clifford S. Goldfarb and Joseph T. Kessel Hartley Nathan is one of the founders of the Bootmakers and has been Meyers twice. Cliff Goldfarb is Chairman of the Friends of the Arthur Conan Doyle Collection at the Toronto Reference Library. Joseph T. Kessel is a Master Bootmaker, a lifelong Sherlockian and an avid student of 19th-century history. Editor’s Note: This article is the second in a series of four based around the Jewish connection in the Canon.
Part I – Hartley Nathan begins this article with an introduction
any “Sherlockians,” as we call ourselves, consider Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson to have been real persons who lived at 221B Baker M Street in London. Dr. Watson was the scribe and Conan Doyle the literary agent who arranged for the stories to be published. This is known as “playing the game,” and it can be a great deal of fun — balancing what was going on in the real world against the events of the stories, as if they are real. To quote the great English mystery writer Dorothy Sayers: “[The game] must be played as solemnly as a cricket match at Lord’s; the slightest touch of extravagance or burlesque ruins the atmosphere.” Conan Doyle has been described — unfairly in my opinion — as a “highly compulsive, self-revealing allegorist who had artfully implanted a large number of clues among his stories. These clues profoundly associate Doyle and Sherlock Holmes and his companions with several “real life, fictional, legendary, and Biblical figures.”1 This article will focus on two stories in the Canon: The Final Problem, published in the December 1893 edition of The Strand Magazine, and which takes place from April 24th to May 4th, 1891, and The Adventure of the Empty House, which took place on Thursday, April 5, 1894, and was published in The Strand Magazine in 1903. In November 1891, Doyle wrote to his mother: “I think of slaying Holmes, … and winding him up for good and all. He takes my mind from other things.” In August of 1893, while Conan Doyle was in Switzerland, he confessed to some fellow travellers “that he was tired of his own creation” — “I intend to make an end of him. If I don’t, he’ll make an end of me.” Four months later, in December 1893, he did so. The nefarious Professor Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes engaged in a struggle and both supposedly fell to their deaths at Reichenbach Falls at Meiringen, Switzerland, as described in The Final Problem. In his memoir, written in 1893, Dr. Watson states in The Final Problem:
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 5 “It is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to write these last words in which I shall ever record the singular gifts by which my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes was distinguished.” One of these singular gifts was the art of disguise. Partly as a result of public outcry and offers he could not refuse for more Holmes stories, Doyle performed the difficult task of retrieving the great detective from his watery grave. He does this in 1903 with The Adventure of the Empty House. The manner in which Holmes occupied himself during the interval from Moriarty’s death and Holmes’ return — known to Sherlockians as “The Great Hiatus” – is a source of enduring delight to his admirers and is at the heart of this article. In The Adventure of the Empty House,2 Holmes tells us what he did during the Great Hiatus:
I traveled for two years in Tibet, therefore, and amused myself by visiting Lhasa and spending some days with the head Lama. You may have read of the remarkable explorations of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but I am sure that it never occurred to you that you were receiving news of your friend. I then passed through Persia, looked in at Mecca, and paid a short but interesting visit to the Khalifa at Khartoum, the results of which I have communicated to the Foreign Office. Returning to France, I spent some months in a research into the coal-tar derivatives, which I conducted in a laboratory at Montpelier,3 in the south of France.
The whole chronicle of his three years of travels is three sentences – 117 words – and has inspired more commentary than almost any other Sherlockian event. There is no shortage of critical commentary devoted to this passage.4 Les Klinger, in his masterful The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes analyses the various theories and conjectures. He states: “There is a distinct school of thought that “The Great Hiatus” never happened.” The rationale for this view can be summarized as follows: 1. Tibet ― was one of the most remote and inaccessible places on Earth and was basically closed to Europeans; 2. Persia ― travel was almost impossible; there were no highways until the 1920s and no railways until the 1930s; 3. Mecca ― was barred to infidels. The Europeans that visited Mecca and Medina were few and far between, one of them being Johann Ludwig Burckhardt in 1815. The most famous “visitor,” of course, was Sir Richard Burton in 1853. Both were fluent in Arabic and studied the Koran and Islamic law. In fact, Burton was a convert to Islam. Burckhardt disguised himself as a Syrian trader and Burton as a Persian Sh’ia;5 4. Khartoum ― by the time Sherlock Holmes could have visited Khartoum in the Sudan, it had been levelled by the Mahdi in 1885. Six months later, the 6 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 Mahdi was dead of typhus and his successor, the Khalifa, was in Omdurman, which was more likely where Sherlock would have gone.6 One writer7 has suggested that Holmes may have visited the Holy Land, rather than having gone in the impossible directions given by Holmes and Watson and postulated “we should pursue our studies on the subject of Sherlock Holmes in the Middle East.” This is too daunting a challenge to pass up. Notwithstanding the above obstacles, let us assume Holmes did, in fact, do all that he said he did en route home to London.
Part II ― Joseph Kessel’s rendition of the return journey home, 1893/4
Early in June 1893, as the snows retreated and the weather warmed up again, Holmes, as Sigerson, left Tibet and the city of Lhasa by the river route through the north-east Himalayas. Following down the Dihong River, onto the Brahmaputra, and on through its tributaries, he reached the city of Calcutta. Here he settled in lodgings near the centre to recover and resupply after the long and hazardous trip. Visiting the main branch of his bank – possibly Barclays – for funds as arranged with Mycroft back in London, he was handed a sealed envelope with the name Sigerson written on it. Inside were instructions (should he wish to follow them) from HM Government to search out a route along the Nile between Egypt and Khartoum in the Sudan which an expeditionary force might follow and possibly build a rail link, since the river route had failed in 1882. In 1881, Mohammed Achmed, known as the Mahdi, led a rebellion in the Sudan against the Turkish-Egyptian occupiers. It plunged the Sudan into chaos. British attempts to withdraw from the region climaxed in General Gordon’s ill-fated attempts to rescue officials, soldiers and Egyptian subjects from Khartoum. Gordon was killed at Khartoum on January 25, 1885, and the residents slaughtered by the Mahdi’s army in the most cruel manner possible. The Mahdi died of typhoid fever a few months later and was succeeded by his loyal lieutenant, the Khalifa. In England there was a rising agitation for another General Charles campaign in the Sudan. Revenge for the death of Gordon Gordon was, of course, a leading motive. International politics also pushed the British into contemplating action. In the general scramble for territory in Africa, they had supported the claims of Germany and Italy against the French and it was feared that France was preparing to move into the Sudan. To all this was added the fear that the Khalifa, who was cut from the same cloth as the Mahdi, might renew his attack on Egypt and the Suez Canal. By July, Holmes commences his journey via the Indian Railway system across the subcontinent from Calcutta to Bombay on the west coast.
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 7 This is a well-established route, running via Sambalpur, Raipur and Nagpur. En route he spends some time studying the rail system, the construction of the numerous bridges and the track, and how it has improved and speeded up travel throughout the country. What name did he go by? Surely, not Sherlock Holmes. Apart from the fact that such use would instantly identify him as British or American, the name itself was by then well known throughout the world. Much too dangerous. And because he was widely thought to be dead, at best he would have been tagged as an imposter. The name he had been using in Tibet – Sigerson – was too Norwegian for Arabia or Africa. To emulate Richard Burton, he needed to pass as a Muslim and to get to Khartoum he had to get to Mecca first as a pilgrim. What better than to translate his pseudonym into Bin Sayaad (son of ‘Siger’ = ‘seeker’ or ‘hunter’)? Arriving in Bombay he ascertains the onward route. He will travel to Bandar Abbas in Persia with the P&O line, transforming himself from the European explorer to Hafiz, a Persian merchant who is preparing, as a devout pilgrim, to make Hajj to Mecca.8 In Bandar Abbas he changes his appearance, shaves his head, buys the necessary clothes and engages a servant ready for the Hajj, which in that year takes place from August to October. It is the year 1310 AH of the Muslim calendar. From Bandar Abbas he makes his way by P&O steamer in September 1893, with hundreds of other pilgrims, to Aden, a transfer point en route to Jiddah, the port on the Red Sea closest to Mecca, which is reached by dhow, the traditional means of travel. The overland portion is a distance of 45 miles (72 kilometers) and is travelled in the company of many hundreds of Muslims from many lands and backgrounds – a good place to blend in without drawing attention to oneself. At the end of the Hajj in October 1893, Holmes crosses the Red Sea by dhow to the port city of Suakin (now called Port Sudan). Camel caravans bring the returning pilgrims to Omdurman on the Nile. Khartoum is in ruins and has been abandoned since the siege of Gordon. Here in Omdurman the Khalifa holds public gatherings for his multitude of followers. It would be a very brave Englishman who would dare to visit such a blood- thirsty tyrant. We believe he did. His disguise as a pilgrim was very convincing. Leaving Omdurman (via Khartoum to Cairo), again by sailboat down the Nile, Holmes observes the terrain and the traffic moving steadily in both directions. How does one move a whole army the 700 km from the border with Egypt? On arrival in Cairo, Holmes finally sheds his disguise and reappears as Sigerson once again. He meets with Sir Evelyn Baring, the British Pro-Consul for Egypt, the one man who will plan the expedition to retake the Sudan. But this will now take time and only start some years down the road. Holmes has made his report, fulfilled the task set him by HM Government and is now free to pursue his own desires. He makes the short trip to Port Said, where there are regular 13-hour long sailings to the Port of Jaffa.
8 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 His new disguise, effected onboard, is that of Rabbi Shalom Bayit (peace on your home!), mild-mannered traveller to the Holy Land. While the Ottoman authorities are leery of potential Jewish settlers, they turn a blind eye to religious personnel of all persuasions visiting the area. Because of his undoubted fluency in German, we believe Holmes could speak a passable Yiddish. Jaffa is the terminal of the new rail link, completed in 1892, to Jerusalem. This is the most convenient way to make the journey through the coastal plain to Jerusalem, the City of David, in December 1893.
Part III – Cliff Goldfarb pontificates on why Holmes would want to visit Jerusalem in 1893.
Before giving you the reasons why Sherlock Holmes may have visited Jerusalem, let me give you a description of what he might have seen in December 1893. Jerusalem was a sleepy, decrepit hilltown with a population of about 45,000, consisting of 28,000 Jews; 8,700 Christian Arabs and Europeans and 8,600 Muslim Arabs (these numbers may underestimate the Muslim population). Although the Zionist movement was officially established only in 1897, unofficially the idea of promoting a Jewish presence in Jerusalem had been underway since the middle of the century. Prior to 1858, when the modern building period commenced, Jerusalem lay wholly within its 16th-century walls, and even as late as 1875, there were few private residences beyond their limits. By 1893, several decades of construction had created a substantial community outside the walls.9 Arabs also poured into the land, from what is now Syria and Lebanon, to take advantage of the prosperity and jobs created by the Jewish settlers – both sets of immigration – Jewish and Arab – helped to create the Israel-Palestine demographic situation of today. As early as the 1860s, the English Jewish philanthropist Sir Moses Montefiore was financing the building of new Jewish neighbourhoods in and around Jerusalem, and there were German movements as well to encourage Jewish settlement in the city. Considerable new construction was being undertaken, especially in the Jewish quarter. This was the dawn of modern Jewish settlement in Palestine. In 1892 the Ottomans had prohibited the sale of land to foreign Jews. In 1893 the European powers pressured the Ottoman government to permit Jews legally resident in Palestine to buy land, provided they established no colonies on it. Why did Holmes go to Jerusalem? Until his personal archives, the existence and location of which are known only to the writers and a select few others, are unsealed and made available for scholarly study, all we have to go on is the published works of his biographer, Dr. John Watson, whose own notes and papers have never, despite numerous claims, been found. And Watson is silent, even as to the very existence of this visit. So in the absence of concrete evidence, we must, to use the very words of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, “make his visit.”10 Let us make it clear at the outset that none of us has the least bit of doubt that Holmes did, in fact, pay a visit to the Holy Land, and particularly
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 9 Jerusalem, since he was already in the area. There are a number of compelling reasons for this conclusion. These fall under the following headings:
• Archaeology • Philology • History • Sentimental • Politics • Adventure • Religion • Freemasonry
Archaeology Because of the activities of the Palestine Exploration Fund, which had been excavating in Jerusalem since 1865, and publishing regular reports, as well as reports in the popular press, particularly The Illustrated London News, there was a high degree of awareness among the British public of the new discoveries. Some of the early excavators, including Captains Charles Wilson, Charles Warren and Colonel Claude Conder,11 used their military engineering skills to drive long tunnels under populated areas, in order to expose earlier construction. Frederick J. Bliss (1859-1937), an American archaeologist who had been working at the seminal site of Tell el-Hesi, continued the work of the Fund in Jerusalem from 1894-1897, assisted by Archibald Dickie. Together they made important contributions to understanding the archaeology of the city. Bliss helped to delineate the city walls, often using the same tunneling methods of the first PEF archaeologists, to avoid causing friction with the religious inhabitants of the areas beneath which they were excavating. Bliss also excavated a Byzantine church in the area of the Pool of Siloam. In 1893, there were no prominent excavations going on in the city, although several of the monasteries were carrying on digs, literally in their own cellars. Unfortunately, it is almost certain that Holmes did not come to Jerusalem, or anywhere else in Palestine, to offer his services on an archaeological dig. A comprehensive review of the literature, including an exhaustive survey of newspaper indices of the year 1893, reveals that there were no ongoing excavations in Jerusalem in that year. So apart from curiosity, and the opportunity to perhaps visit some of the remains of expeditions from the previous decades, we can safely conclude that archaeology was not a motive for his visit.
Philology What better place for Holmes to further his study of Chaldean, the language we now know as Aramaic? In the first century, Aramaic, which is closely related to Biblical Hebrew, was the spoken language of the common folk. But we believe that he was already well up in Aramaic when he arrived in Jerusalem, having been speaking it for weeks in the travels leading him there.
10 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 How would he get around, without being discovered as an Englishman – both at Mecca, then at Khartoum and in between travelling in Arab lands? At Mecca he would do it as a Persian, elsewhere as a Christian, speaking Aramaic and passing himself off as a dweller from the hills of Syria. This would allow him to speak Arabic badly. How do we know he could speak these languages? Here is an extract from The Adventure of the Devil’s Foot:
[I]n the spring of the year 1897 ... we found ourselves together in a small cottage near Poldhu Bay, at the further extremity of the Cornish peninsula... . The ancient Cornish language had ... arrested his attention, and he had, I remember, conceived the idea that it was akin to the Chaldean, and had been largely derived from the Phoenician traders in tin. He had received a consignment of books upon philology and was settling down to develop this thesis ...
Chaldean was, of course, what is known today as Aramaic. What Watson neglects to say is that Holmes already had a well-developed knowledge of Aramaic from his travels in the Middle East, acquired in the hills of Syria and refined among the Assyrian and Chaldean communities of Jerusalem. As to Persian, or Farsi, here is an extract from A Case of Identity:
You may remember the old Persian saying, ‘There is danger for him who taketh the tiger cub, and danger also for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman.’ There is as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much knowledge of the world.
Conan Doyle displays his own interest in the Persian language in The Mystery of Cloomber, a non-Sherlockian tale written in 1888. Possibly this interest came from his own contacts with Holmes.
History If you think of history as important things that happened in an important place, that changed the way we live now, then no place is more important than Jerusalem. How could Holmes not go there, when he was so close? The answer is that he had to go to Jerusalem, to walk its streets, visit its sacred sights, the churches, markets, burial grounds, pools and ruins that for 3,000 years have been at the centre of the events that shaped our civilization. Perhaps this was his only reason to visit Jerusalem – he was only a tourist! Perhaps, but...
Sentimental We know from The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter that Holmes’ grandmother was a sister of the French painter Vernet. Which Vernet is some- thing of which we are not certain. The consensus seems to be that it was Horace, (1789-1863), who like his father Carl, also painted battle scenes. Horace Vernet, therefore, was Holmes’ uncle. Horace was the first photographer in Jerusalem, in 1839 (with his nephew or student, Frédéric Goupil-Fesquet, and another Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 11 nephew, possibly Holmes’ cousin Charles Bouton, as well as with the Swiss- Canadian daguerreotypist Pierre Joly de Lotbinière). Unfortunately, none of the original plates taken by either Vernet or Goupil- Fesquet have survived and we are left only with lithographs published by Lerebours in Excursions Daguerreiennes in 1842, including a panoramic view of Jerusalem and another taken in Alexandria, of which more later. Holmes would likely have seen many photographs of Jerusalem, taken by other early photographers, including Horatio Kitchener (later Lord Kitchener, the man who finally reconquered Khartoum) as well as the romantic watercolours of David Roberts. He certainly would have wanted to see many of the world-famous sights of the fabulous city for himself.
Politics In Act V of Caesar and Cleopatra, written from the vantage point of 1898, George Bernard Shaw has several Romans speaking in the harbour of Alexandria:
Belzanor: A marvelous man, this Caesar! Will he come soon, think you? Appolodorus: He was settling the Jewish question when I left.
Was this why Holmes visited Jerusalem? Could he have had a commission from his brother Mycroft, directly on behalf of the Prime Minister, or perhaps for the Foreign Office, to check out the environment for Jewish settlement and the likely reaction of the local Arab and Bedouin populations? The Dreyfus Affair was beginning to raise its ugly head in France, and, by galvanizing Theodore Herzl to seek a Jewish homeland, would result in the formal establishment of the Zionist movement four years later, and ultimately to the Balfour Declaration, which set out the British government’s policy of establishing a Jewish homeland in Palestine. Why does Holmes mention that he went to Mecca, but then his next stop is Khartoum? Why not mention passing through Jerusalem, or at, the very least, a side trip? Was it because in Jerusalem he was on an ultra-secret mission, one that was so sensitive that it could not be mentioned even 11 years later when Watson’s account of the Great Hiatus was published? If so, that explains why Holmes could mention Khartoum, where he was likely also scouting for the British campaign that began in 1896 and culminated with the final victory over the Khalifa in 1898. There was no longer any need for secrecy.
Adventure Every English boy of Holmes’ generation would have been thrilled by the stirring adventures of Sir Richard Burton, especially his famous 1853 trip to Mecca and Medina, disguised variously as a Persian prince and a wandering dervish. Burton succeeded because of his mastery of disguise, facility with languages, ability to think quickly in a dangerous situation and sheer audacity. Does this sound like someone else we know? Holmes must surely have believed that where Sir Richard had gone, he could go too, and maybe further. Under
12 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 threat of death from the vestiges of the Moriarty organization, on a top-secret mission for the British government, the ability to blend into the native Jerusalem populace was at least as important as Burton’s disguise at Mecca.
Religion We believe that Holmes was not an actively religious man. However, a review of the 60 published Holmes tales turns up a few references to chapel attendances at college, evidence of divinity in his discourse on the nature of the rose, frequent Biblical references and allusions and even a willingness to impersonate a clergyman. From here we can infer that he was perhaps an agnostic who wished to explore the greater mysteries and where better to explore them than at the spiritual and geographic centre of the Judaeo-Christian world? Holmes at The Wailing Wall A first visit to Jerusalem is a powerful experience for anyone. The weight of 30 centuries of history, the parade of three major religions, the blood and faith that have washed the Jerusalem Stone which gives the City its distinctive appearance, makes it impossible for even the secular to deny feelings of religion. Holmes would have paid a visit to the Wailing Wall, as it was known in those days, the surviving Western Wall of the Herodian Temple Mount. He may even have approached the Wall, to stuff a handwritten prayer into a crack in the Wall, as Jews have done for centuries and continue to do. Holmes would have wandered through the churches of the Old City, especially the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, founded in the 4th century of our era by Helene, mother of the Byzantine emperor Constantine and said to be built over the burial place of Jesus. Holmes would have been well aware of the debate as to whether this site, or the nearby Garden Tomb, just outside of the City walls, was the correct burial place. This is another compelling reason why Holmes may have visited Jerusalem.
Hartley Nathan explains: In The Adventure of the Cardboard Box, Watson possessed a newly framed picture of General Charles Gordon. The location of the Garden Tomb, the supposed location of Jesus’ burial place, has been the subject of much speculation. In 1883, Gordon arrived in Jerusalem, an event that proved to be critically important in the history of the Garden Tomb. Gordon, the son of a general, was the best-known and best-loved British soldier of his era. By 1883 Gordon had a worldwide reputation as a military figure surrounded by an aura of mystery. He was the grand representative of the Victorian era, the personification of heroism, duty and loyalty to the British Empire and faith in God. At the same time, he was an ambitious individualist, an adventurous
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 13 crusader, and a captivating storyteller. Moreover, his deep religious consciousness went beyond the rational – indeed, reaching into spiritual hallucination. Motivated by a religious compulsion, Gordon came to Jerusalem to meditate on questions of faith that had perplexed him from his youth. Gordon identified what he thought was the Garden Tomb’s location. This caused, and still provokes, waves of controversy among pilgrims who wish to visit authentic sites of the Gospels. Even today the Garden Tomb is one of Jerusalem’s best-known sites; it is visited by well over 100,000 tourists and pilgrims a year, visitors who imbibe its serene and sacred atmosphere. Indeed, the tranquility of the Garden Tomb provides a striking contrast to the city noise and tumult just outside. His report on the location was published posthumously in 1885, after Gordon’s courageous last stand at Khartoum, of which you have heard already. His identifications of this and other Biblical sites such as Golgotha gained fame and publicity, not for any scientific validity, but because of Gordon’s compelling personality and his heroically tragic death. In 1894, the cave and the surrounding garden were purchased by the Garden Tomb Association for £2,000 sterling raised by an influential group of Englishmen that included the Archbishop of Canterbury. This association still owns and maintains the site.12 We theorize that Holmes may have intended to verify Gordon’s findings, or better still, he may even have assisted the Garden Tomb Association in its purchase of the site in 1894, a few months after Holmes arrived in Jerusalem.
Freemasonry – Hartley Nathan (continues) There are no less than five stories in the Canon where the Masonic science and symbols are recognized by Sherlock Holmes. These are The Red-Headed League, A Scandal in Bohemia, A Study in Scarlet, The Adventure of the Retired Colourman and The Valley of Fear. For example, in The Red-Headed League, Holmes recognizes Jabez Wilson as a Mason and asserted that “rather against the strict rules of your order, you use an arc and compass breachpin” (the emblem of a Master of a Masonic Lodge).13 Was Sherlock Holmes a Freemason? Statements in the Canon indicate that he was certainly knowledgeable about the order’s beliefs. To be so knowledgeable, many commentators feel he actually had to be a Freemason himself.14 Conan Doyle himself was a Master Mason.15 What is Masonry all about and what has it to do with Jerusalem?16 The main rituals central to Freemasonry settled around the building of King Solomon’s Temple in ancient Jerusalem and the murder of Hiram Abiff, the chief architect of the Temple. Various accounts date the construction of the Temple to have begun between 1060 BC and 968 BC. This was the First Temple and was destroyed by Nebuchadnessar in 586 BCE. The so called Second Temple was rebuilt supposedly on the site of the First Temple during the reign of Darius the Persian King in 516 BC after the Jews returned from exile in Babylon. The Second
14 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 Temple was, in turn, destroyed in 70 CE under the Roman Emperor Vespasian.17 What remains of the Second Temple is for many Jews the most significant place in Jerusalem and is known as the “Western Wall,” “Kotel” or Wailing Wall. The exact location of the First Temple or the Temple of Solomon is unknown. Perhaps Sherlock Holmes came to Jerusalem to see if he could locate it through the use of his powers of deductive reasoning. To a Mason, visiting the supposed site of the Temple would be the equivalent of making the Hajj for a Muslim – not for religious reasons but to reflect on certain Masonic principles.
Part IV - Conclusions – Joseph Kessel His trip to Jerusalem over, Holmes continues on to Alexandria in January 1894. Before setting foot on board the cross-Mediterranean steamer in Alexandria, he undoubtedly paid a visit to the exterior of the Harem of Mehemet Ali, which had been photographed by his great-uncle, Horace Vernet, in 1840. This picture caused an uproar when it was published in Paris “because of its romantic/erotic connotations.” In an article published in 1840, Vernet claimed he taught Mehemet Ali how to use the daguerreotype and thus gained entry into the harem.18 Marseilles is the Mediterranean terminal of the MM or French Shipping Line where he takes passage to Marseilles. Holmes now assumes another role, that of the industrial chemist Sebastian Vernet (a graduate of École Technologique de Paris). He soon finds his way to the laboratory in Montpellier (misspelled Montpelier in The Adventure of the Empty House), ostensibly studying coal-tar derivatives. In actual fact, he came to ascertain that there was an ample supply of creosote and other wood preservatives, suitable for coating railway sleepers should the British government ever get around to building the desert railway from Egypt to the Sudan. Montpellier was also the home of a famous yeshiva or religious academy, dating to medieval times. We’re not suggesting that Holmes also went there because of the yeshiva but this is an angle which has not yet been explored. Finally, in February 1894 he undertook the last stage of his return home by ferry to Dover, again assuming a new disguise upon reaching Dover, en route by train to London. He now became the quiet, unassuming bookseller who eventually surprised Dr. Watson in the story of The Empty House. Herewith ends the tale of the long journey back home. It was undoubtedly true that Holmes was spying for the British government. He was their #00221(b), licensed to thrill. From the very first meeting with the British agent in Calcutta (sent by brother Mycroft?), he was under their orders to survey the route between Khartoum and the Egyptian border. His mission was to come up with a plan on how the avenging army was to travel across the desert to finally reach closure with the fact of Gordon’s death back in 1885. A decade later the British government began its efforts in the pacification and restoration of the Sudan – a mission led by Sir Horatio Herbert Kitchener that succeeded within two years at the battle of Omdurman in September 1898.
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 15 Did he first get a glimmer of an idea when he travelled by train right across the subcontinent from Calcutta to Bombay? He must have noticed that when traversing a series of diverse terrains that rail travel was the most obvious answer. But can you build a new rail line in the desert? He had to find out. By the time Holmes reached Cairo, his mind was made up and his report to Sir Evelyn Baring laid the foundation for the ultimate reconquering of the Sudan. The major problem which faced the British was that Sir Horatio Herbert of getting an army into the heart of the Dervish Kitchener country to face and destroy their forces. It was about 1,000 miles (1,600 km) from Cairo to Omdurman, most of it hostile desert. The one man who provided the means for moving the Anglo-Egyptian force under Kitchener into the Sudan was a young French-Canadian officer named Edouard Percy Girouard (1867-1932). He was a son of a judge of the Supreme Court of Canada, educated at Royal Military College and had worked for two years for the CPR before receiving his commission in the Royal Engineers. He was the railway traffic manager at the Royal Arsenal in Woolwich before being seconded to the Egyptian army. The problems, as Holmes had pointed out to Sir Evelyn Baring in his report of 1893, were quite formidable. Hostile territory, inhabited by hostile tribesmen in a hostile climate, made for an impossible task. But Kitchener was determined to succeed where the British had failed in 1884. Slowly, with numerous steam engines of various ages, men and supplies were moved into the Sudan, laying rails under the watchful eyes of army patrols, on wooden sleepers carefully protected by creosote preservatives against rot and insect infestation. In 1896 Conan Doyle himself, armed with special press credentials as an honorary war correspondent, traveled up the Nile to Wadi Halfa, where the British army was massing for the campaign. When he got to Wadi Halfa, the start of the campaign appeared to be on hold. Over dinner Kitchener told Doyle no fighting would take place for some time so a crestfallen Doyle sailed back to England.19 By 1897 the British army reached Abu Hamed, cleared now of the enemy and pushed on to Berber. By the end of 1898 they had reached a point south of Berber and defeated a large force of Dervishes that opposed their march. Finally in September of that year the bulk of Kitchener’s army (including a young lieutenant named Winston Spencer Churchill) stood in a giant semicircle only 12 km from Omdurman with armed steamers protecting their rear on the Nile. Churchill himself described the campaign in his book The River Wars. The rest is history! And so the epic journey by Sigerson/Bin Sayaad/Shalom Bayit/Sebastian Vernet/Sherlock Holmes, from the foothills of the Himalayas to the streets of London, ended triumphantly with Sherlock Holmes capturing Colonel Sebastian Moran, as chronicled in The Adventure of the Empty House.
16 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011
Notes [1] Samuel Rosenberg: Naked is the Best Disguise. Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., New York: 1974. pages 1-2. [2] The Adventure of the Empty House was published in Collier’s Magazine, September 26, 1903 and in The Strand Magazine, October 1903. [3] The spelling of ‘Montpelier’ is incorrect in the Canon – one ‘l’ Montpelier is in Vermont. Holmes visited ‘ll’ Montpellier in France. [4] See for example, Evan M. Wilson: “The Trip That Never Was or Sherlock Holmes in the Middle East,” Baker Street Journal, Vol. 20, No. 2 (June 1970), page 67 and the extensive treatment by Baring-Gould in The Annotated Sherlock Holmes, Vol. II, pages 320-328. [5] Edward Rice: Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton. Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York: 1990. pages 181-4. [6] Any European would be in “mortal fear of his life” if he visited the Khalifa. See Rudolf E. Slatin: Fire and Sword in the Sudan. Edward Arnold, London: 1898. [7] Wilson, footnote 4, page 73. [8] Disguise for the purpose of the Hajj consisted of: Colouring the skin to appear as an upper-class Persian merchant. Shaving the head, except for one lock at the rear. Growing a beard – the longer, the better. Could have started in India or Tibet, as the plan takes shape. “Clothes make the Man.” Zir-jamah-cotton pants. Ark-halik – skirts, karmarchen – tunic of Calico. Kafsh or slippers worn with heel folded down. Headgear and urussi – Russian shoes. Medical records show that on rare occasions some males are born already circumcised. This is considered a special blessing in the Jewish religion! It must be assumed that Sherlock Holmes was one of these rare males. Otherwise it would have been suicide to proceed on this perilous escapade. [9] Source Encyclopedia Britannia, 1911. [10] From Through the Magic Door, referring to “The Lost Special.”
The great writer can never go wrong. If Shakespeare gives a sea coast to Bohemia or if Victor Hugo calls an English prizefighter Mr. Jim-John-Jack – well, it was so, and that’s an end of it. “There is no second line of rails at that point,” said an editor to a minor author. “I make a second line,” said the author; and he was within his rights, if he can carry his readers’ conviction with him. In letter 9 in the Arthur Conan Doyle Collection at the Toronto Reference Library, he wrote to his editor, Greenhough Smith, that “I should not hesitate at laying down a fresh line of rails – or a fresh railway line as I did in [The Lost Special.]”
[11] Professor A.H. Sayce, who was one of the early archaeologists to work in Palestine, was the great uncle of Kenneth Sayce, M.Bt, one of the early
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 17 members of the Bootmakers. In Sept. 27, 1890 he had published an article in The Illustrated London News on recent discoveries at the Biblical sites of Lachish and Eglon. We believe Holmes would have been well aware of this article. [12] Gabriel Barkay: “The Garden Tomb. Was Jesus Buried Here?” Biblical Archaeological Review. March/April, 1986. page 40. [13] Barrett & Potter: “Sherlock Holmes and The Masonic Connection.” 45 Baker Street Miscellanea, 1986. page 28. [14] Cecil Ryder: “A Study in Masonry,” Sherlock Holmes Journal, No. 3, Winter, 1973. [15] Yasha Beresiner: “Elementary, my dear brother – The Case of the Masonic Career of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.” The Masonic Quarterly, Issue No. 6 July, 2003. [16] The following is adapted from Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh, The Temple and the Lodge, Arcade Publishing, New York: 1989. [17] Flavius Josephus: Wars of the Jews. BK VI, Chapter V, Su 8. [18] Nissan N. Perez: Focus East: Early Photography in the Near East, 1839- 1885. Harry N. Abrams Inc., New York: 1988. pages 228-9, citing F. Goupil- Fesquet: Voyage d’Horace Vernet en Orient. Paris: Callamel, 1843. Journal des Journaux, Vol. 1, January, 1940, n.p. [19] Daniel Stashower: Teller of Tales: The Life of Arthur Conan Doyle. Henry Holt, New York: 1999. pages 196-7.
18 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 The Lost Special
By Peter H. Wood, M.Bt., BSI
Editors’ Note: Peter Wood, a frequent contributor to Canadian Holmes, passed away on July 30, 2011. Peter was and one of Canada’s foremost Sherlockians. He will be missed by his immediate family but also by the wider Sherlockian world.
t has always seemed likely to me that, tucked away in a bottom drawer of Conan Doyle’s desk were more plot ideas which he had explicitly barred I himself from using for further Sherlock Holmes tales. I suspect – and absent the discovery of further of his notebooks it must remain a suspicion and no more – that by 1898 he had found a way out of his dilemma. In June of that year there appeared in The Strand Magazine a new Conan Doyle series titled Round The Fire Stories. Several of these have “mystery-type” plots and at least two have been subsumed into the Sherlockian Canon by several critics. Pasticheurs have shown that others can easily be rewritten in Canonical form.1 So let us consider the third story in this series, titled The Lost Special. It appeared in The Strand Magazine in August 1898 and bears many hallmarks of a Holmes tale; also, it is set in June 1890, nearly a year before Holmes’ ostensible death. It involves the mysterious disappearance of a special train, consisting of an engine, two coaches and a guard’s van from the London and West Coast Railway line from Liverpool to Manchester, between the stations of Kenyon Junction and Barton Moss. (Note: These are actual places on the London and North-Western Liverpool/Manchester line. See Map 1). Firstly, let us look for: “Data, Data, Data!” • We learn from the story that on Tuesday, 3rd June, 1890, at about 3.30 p.m., a M. Louis Caratal, newly arrived from Central America and accompanied by a giant bodyguard named Gomez, walked into the office of the London and West Coast Railway at Liverpool’s Central Station, and ordered a special train to get him to London, as he had allegedly missed the London express. The train was duly provided at the rate of 5/- per mile (total cost £50/5/0), and departed from Central Station at 4.31 p.m., with a “clear line” to Manchester. The times at which it passed various stations are given in the story. It was supposed to reach Manchester just before 6.00 p.m. It never got there but vanished en route. • A “parliamentary train” (these were government-prescribed low-fare trains which were compelled to stop at all stations for the convenience of the general public) which left the terminus 20 minutes later at 4.50 p.m. passed over the same rails but saw no trace of either the special train or of any accident.
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 19
Map 1 – Liverpool-Manchester Railways
• The body of the special’s driver was discovered by the line-side 2 1/4 miles on the Manchester side of Kenyon Junction (so it had certainly passed that station). • Of the seven colliery sidings in the area which connected with the main line, four were disused and their junctions taken up, and three were actively in use at the time in question. • “An amateur reasoner of some celebrity” published his thoughts in The Times suggesting that, unlikely as it may sound, “whenever one has eliminated the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” He wonders if a secret society of English colliery workmen may be responsible. The phrase is certainly Holmesian; the conclusion is not. • A newspaper correspondent suggested that the train might be lying underwater in “the Lancashire and Staffordshire Canal, which runs parallel to the railway for several hundreds of yards.” However, the canal was said to be too shallow to hide a railway engine and carriages. • A letter to the wife of the special’s guard from her husband, posted in New York a month after the disappearance of the train, was hoped to provide new information but the hope proved fruitless as he was never heard from again. • Lastly, a pre-execution confession from a French master criminal named Herbert de Lernac provided a framework for the story and a solution for the mystery. With all of these facts in mind, several questions arise from them. The first and most obvious question is: Who was M. Caratal and why did they do this awful thing to him? I regret that to answer this question fully – and much of it would be hypothesis at best – would involve a second lengthy paper on an historical event
20 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 in 1890s France known as the Panama Scandal. In brief, this began with the successful building of the Suez Canal in the 1860s by a French engineer named Ferdinand de Lesseps. Made overconfident by success, he then undertook to construct another, greater canal across the Isthmus of Panama in Central America. The concept was badly thought out, the existing heavy-construction machinery was totally inadequate, and the health and logistical requirements of such a gigantic enterprise were barely considered. The result was an engineering disaster of the first magnitude. Ultimately the US Government bought out the French company, took over the construction of the Canal and completed it successfully some 25 years later, in 1914. In the meantime, the original company had foundered in a financial morass of debts, bribes, forgeries, theft and political chicanery which brought down at least two French governments for their members’ complicity. According to one authority, more than 100 deputies – members of the French Parliament were linked to the scandal, which involved many of the leading members of French society. For details of this prolonged and sordid affair, I refer anyone interested to M.J. Simon’s The Panama Affair (Charles Scribner’s Sons, NY, 1971), amongst other books on the subject. Let us return to the unfortunate M. Caratal and his bodyguard. We are told that M. Caratal arrived in Liverpool on Tuesday June 3rd, 1890. As he had come from Central America and landed at Liverpool, he must have come by the only steamship line which sailed that route. This was the West India & Pacific Steamship Co. Limited, whose head office was in the Temple Building in Dale Street. In the light of the events related and their probable explanation, it seems likely (though not, of course, certain), that he embarked at Colon in what is now the Republic of Panama. There are many small ports in the area and the W.I. & P.S. visited them all so there are other possibilities. The company’s vessels departed from the Prince’s Landing Stage, the landing place which passenger ships using the port of Liverpool still employ. They sailed on Mondays and Thursdays. The company served three major routes in the Caribbean, and scheduled one ship a month on two of them and one every two weeks on the third. On such a long journey, with so many different ports of call, the time for the voyage would not be definite – only the North Atlantic flyers such as the Cunard and White Star boats could run on railway timetable sailing schedules. The boats that the company used were between 1,500 and 3,000 tons displacement, with triple-expansion steam engines and a speed of some eight to 10 knots. They were what are now termed passenger-cargo boats; similar to, though smaller than the “Mayumba” in which ACD made his voyage as a ship’s doctor down the coast of Africa in 1881. The round-trip distance from Liverpool to the Caribbean is roughly 8,400 nautical miles. For such a distance, and at the average speed I have given, a three weeks’ time allowance to reach the furthest point and begin the return voyage seems reasonable, and would give the steamship line a six-week sailing cycle. Allowing for loading/unloading, waiting times and weather delays, it may well have been two months or longer.
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 21 As one might expect, a check through the Shipping Gazette and Lloyd’s List for June 3rd, 1890, which gives the sailings and departures for all British seaports on that date, shows no arrivals from the West Indies, though it does show a departure – the WI & PS Yucatan, an 1,800-ton iron steamship, which had recently arrived there. For the purposes of this paper, let us move the date of the story back a few days to this vessel’s arrival and follow M. Caratal and his manservant Gomez as they debarked from the Yucatan. He would have paid a fare of £22 sterling for the voyage, plus £14/13/4d for his faithful bodyguard, Eduardo Gomez. This sum included their meals but not any wines or liquor they might have consumed. M. Caratal had reached his destination safe and sound. He then, accompanied by Gomez, hired a cab and drove to the offices of the London and West Coast Railway to catch an express train to London – with what intention we are not told. It appears that he was meant never to reach the capital. On the sea voyage he was to be intercepted by an armed brig2, sent out to kidnap him or sink his ship without a trace, if necessary. This plan had, not surprisingly, failed. But what had he done to deserve this treatment? We learn later that a group of important and desperate men in France had hired a self-described master criminal, one Herbert de Lernac, to be responsible for eliminating M. Caratal, his bodyguard and particularly the briefcase of documents his bodyguard carried chained to his wrist at all times. The attempt at sea having failed, it now became necessary to organise and carry through the destruction of the special train and its passengers. Why? M. Caratal possessed information which, were it to reach the hands of the French authorities, would pose a major threat to the life and liberty of many important persons in France. The “trial” referred to in the text must, of course, be the impending trial of the officers of the Panama Canal Company for fraudulently obtaining money to keep the company solvent. In doing this they had paid large sums as bribes to various newspaper owners for favourable references to the company. For further details, we must again see Simon’s book. It seems probable – and here, in Holmes’ words, we “balance probabilities and choose the most likely” – that M. Caratal was in possession of documentary evidence of some or all of the crooked financial dealings in which the company and its contractors in Panama had been involved. Certainly unsuitable machinery was bought, shipped and proven useless when put to work. Firms over billed for excavating and ignored contractual requirements to have moved fixed amounts of earth by a given time. Nevertheless, they were paid – and in some cases, apparently overpaid – and the shareholders were not informed because the accounts were falsified both on the spot and at the head office in Paris. If M. Caratal had such evidence in his possession – he may have been what is now called a “bag man,” one who carried large sums of cash from the company to the contractors’ agents on site, he could have been a key witness in any prosecution. As such, he would be in constant danger once his intention was known.
22 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 This all fits so closely with the story as we have it that Occam’s razor itself can shave no closer; the simplest explanation is the most likely. Another question that comes to mind is: Which railway was it? In the year 1890 the City of Liverpool was served by two of the major English railways and one minor regional line. Each of these had its own terminus. The smallest, Exchange Station on the northern side of the city, was used by the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway. The Midland Railway ran from Central Station and followed the course of the Mersey River to Warrington, where it joined the Midland’s main line to St. Pancras station. This area of the line was operated jointly with another local group know as the Cheshire Lines Committee Railway, built to serve the coal- mining and textile areas of central Lancashire. The London and North-Western, proudly known as The Premier Line, ran from Lime Street Station to Manchester along the metals of the original London and Manchester Railway, built by Robert Stephenson. From there it followed the West Coast Route to the LNWR terminus at Euston (see Map 1). All the stations named in The Lost Special can be found on the LNWR at this time. So which of these lines was the original for the fictitious London and West Coast Railway? The name certainly echoes that of the LNWR, and the stations belong to that company. However, we have to explain the statement that the special train must “run over the lines of another company” between Liverpool and Manchester. In addition, to organize a special train from Central Station (Midland or Cheshire Line) that was routed via the LNWR would have required a degree of co-operation between two different railway traffic superintendents that was most unlikely, as it would have interfered with the schedules of two major railways – not just one – in the days when railways were fiercely independent of each other. Two additional factors must be considered: one, the steamship line (the WI & PS) which M. Caratal must have used (there were no others serving that part of the Caribbean) had a “through-booking” arrangement with the LNWR and also the Midland line from Liverpool whereby one could book a ticket direct from one’s port of embarkation to London (no passport regulations or security checks in those happy days!). Secondly and finally, an inconspicuous phrase near the end of the story refers to the “green metal” of the railway engine. At this time the LNWR engine livery was black and had been since the change from dark green in 1873. The Midland Railway had changed from a dark green to a crimson shade in the late 1880s. Finally, the Cheshire Lines railway used locomotives from the Midland Railway (see above) and also the Great Northern system, whose livery was a lighter shade of green than the Midland. Thus the locomotive description points us to the last alternative line. So we have three possibilities for the railway; however, the “balance of probabilities,” as Holmes would say, seems to lie with the LNWR, with the Cheshire Lines a strong second. Shall we compromise and say that ACD
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 23 envisaged a Cheshire Lines train drawn by a Great Northern locomotive and using the LNWR route? What were the special’s components? The engine on the “special train” was, we are told, the powerful engine #247, Rochdale. In 1890 on the LNWR this would most likely have been a 2-4-0 Precedent class (see Illustration 1). There were two carriages in the train (see Illustration 2). The first one was empty and would probably be similar to the second, as it was offered to a Mr. Horace Moore, whom we know to be de Illustration 1 – Webb’s Precedent Lernac’s English lieutenant and who made another almost Class 2-4-0 simultaneous request for a special train. The second carriage, we are told, had four compartments (First smoking, First non-smoking, Second smoking, Second non-smoking, and was therefore a four-wheeler designed for First/Second-class passengers3.) The guard’s van would be a four-wheeler. There was no corridor and no inter-carriage connection. What was the route? The Liverpool to Manchester Railway line followed in this story is one of the oldest railway lines in England. It was originally built by Robert Stephenson in the spring of 1830 and opened on Sept. 13th in that year. Illustration 2 – Typical carriage The section involved in The Lost Special is the district just before Chat Moss, a large swamp up to 30 feet deep in places. Building a road bed for the railway across this was the worst of many problems faced by Stephenson in constructing the original line. His solution – to build a ‘floating road bed’ – was also adopted on the muskeg sections of the original CPR. Like all train trips, this one passed through several stations. To truly know this story we have to ask, which stations were they?
24 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 The actual timetable for the special train is given below, based upon the information printed in the story:
Station Time Miles/Speed Liverpool (Lime Street) 4.31 p.m. -- -- Collins Green 5.00 13.50/27 mph Earlestown 5.06 1.25/15 mph Newton Green 5.10 1.00/15 mph Kenyon Junction/(Bury Moss) 5.21 2.75/15 mph *Flow Moss Cottage/Glazebrook est.(5.29) 2.00/15 mph Heartsease Mine (temp. junction) ˜ (5.35) 0.50/15 mph *Astley NOT REACHED 2.25 Barton Moss NOT REACHED 0.75 * signifies that this station is omitted from the list of stations in The Lost Special.
Times listed without brackets are the times quoted in the story as those when the special was reported as having passed that point. Distances are the actual distances on the ground between each named station, measured from a large-scale map. (From the table it can be seen that the train was averaging around 15 mph; an extremely slow speed for a special train!) Two-and-a-quarter miles from Kenyon Junction was where the body of the driver John Slater was found. This was just before the location of the temporary junction with the Heartsease Mine siding (Oh! for a competent scene-of-the- crime investigator such as Sherlock Holmes). It is, in fact, not far past the road/railway crossing at Glazebrook, a most conspicuous place for criminal activity (See Map #2).
Map 2 – LNWR Kenyon Junction-Barton Moss redrawn from a 1924 one- inch ordnance survey
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 25 What canal is it that is discussed? The Lancashire and Staffordshire Canal is presumably a nom-de-plume for the Leigh Branch of the Leeds and Liverpool Canal or possibly the Manchester Ship Canal. However, the former is nowhere closer than three miles to the LNWR line and the Manchester Ship Canal, which would after its opening in 1894, become one of the busiest sea-borne traffic arteries in the country, was well over four miles away from it. In 1890 it was still under construction, with no water in the relevant section. Was there a “Heartsease Mine”? A contemporary (1903) ‘half-inch scale’ (2 miles: 1 inch) map shows a narrow-gauge tramway on the south side of the LNWR railway line near Glazebrook and a later (1951) one-inch ordnance survey map shows it as having several branches. However, there is no indication of there being a coal-mine in existence so presumably if there were such a mine, whatever its name, it had long since been abandoned and filled in. If the road bed of the line still exists, it might be worth investigating! Certainly, the line would not have run through a cutting; this would have been unnecessary and indeed physically impossible, for the countryside is swampy. Any excavation below ground level would have filled with water at once. [The question of the existence of the Heartsease Mine has been dealt with by Philip Scowcroft in his article on Railways and Detective Fiction (Scowcroft, 1977). Apparently, according to an authority he cites, there was an Astley Colliery but it did not have a connecting railway to the LNWR until 1898.]
Observations & Deductions (Based on “Bradshaw” for Aug. 1890) There is a scheduled train which leaves Lime Street at 4.30 p.m. with the following timings on its journey:
Station Time Liverpool (Lime Street) 4.30 p.m. Collins Green (--) Earlestown 4.59 p.m. Newton Green 5.04 p.m. Kenyon Junction 5.11 p.m. Astley (--) Barton Moss (--) Patricroft 5.25 p.m. Manchester (Exchange) 5.35 p.m.
As can be seen, it stops infrequently. However, from its timing, we notice that the special train, which according to the story was supposed to have left one minute later, had not caught up with and passed it but had, in fact, fallen 10 minutes behind it by the time they each passed Kenyon Junction, only 18 miles away. For a non-stop train hauled by one of the most powerful engines on the line, this was indeed a remarkable occurrence. When we read that “the line had
26 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 been cleared” to make way for it, the situation becomes impossible, as the 4.30 p.m. would be one of the trains that had been “cleared.” Incidentally, its average speed was just over 30 mph. The “4.50 parliamentary train” mentioned in the story does not exist. There is a 5.00 p.m. express which is timed to reach Manchester at 5.45 p.m., at an average speed of 45 mph The next “government,” or “parliamentary train” (the second one of the day on this route) was timed to leave at 7.05 p.m. It arrived at Manchester, after stopping at every station on the way, at 8.45 p.m., maintaining an average speed of 20 mph. Slow it may have been, but it was a great improvement on walking! Moreover, if we accept the timetable given for the special, it seems M. Caratal would have found his journey faster by the supposedly slower train – and much less expensive, as a parliamentary train fare was originally fixed at one penny per mile and a special cost 60 times as much! From these two train timings, it is clear that the special train should have been able to maintain an average speed of at least 45 mph, and more probably well over 50 mph, as the countryside is fairly flat, with no steep gradients or sharp curves. It should, therefore, have reached Manchester (Exchange Station), 32 miles away, not very long after 5.00 p.m. In fact, according to the story, it had only got as far as Collins Green by this time, less than half-way to its destination. At this rate M. Caratal would have arrived in London (Euston) some time in the early hours of next morning after a very long and uncomfortable journey in a non-sleeping carriage. There are several extremely interesting facts relating to the train times listed in Bradshaw’s Guide, as well as the routes these would travel. For a start, M. Caratal, according to the times cited in the published story, claimed that he had “missed the London express.” He had not. He walked into the office of the Superintendent of the London and West Coast Railway at about 3.30 p.m. Now we have seen that this was most probably the London and North- Western Railway station at Lime Street. According to Bradshaw, a fast express for London left Lime Street Station at 4.05 p.m. with a special first-class saloon for Euston as part of its rolling stock. Had Caratal taken this train, not only would he have avoided the route which was fatal to him, his bodyguard and the unfortunate driver but he would also have reached Euston at 8.30 p.m. This train went via Warrington, Crewe, Stafford, Tamworth, Bletchley and Willesden Junction, incidentally passing the scene of a later incident, recounted in The Man with the Watches, at Tring (see also Scowcroft 1977, for a mention of this point). But this was not the only express he could have taken. Central Station, we are told, was the London and West Coast terminus in Liverpool. If the Cheshire Lines terminus is meant, he could still have caught an express train to London from there, as one left at 3.45 p.m. and arrived in London (King’s Cross) that evening at 9.45 p.m. If he preferred comfortable travel, a train with an attached Pullman parlour car left just under an hour later at 4.40 p.m., to reach London (St. Pancras) at 9.40 p.m. Neither of these would use the old Liverpool –
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 27 Manchester line, as they travelled on a parallel but more southerly route through Warrington before heading off southward to London. I have previously mentioned the non-existent 4.50 p.m. “parliamentary train.” In addition, reference is made to an “ordinary slow train” which left Liverpool at 6 p.m.; it is described as the next train after the 4.50 “parliamentary.” There was no such train at six o’clock; indeed, the next one to London that “Mr. Horace Moore” (a.k.a. Colonel Moran?) could have caught was the 5.20 p.m. Liverpool and North Express, which arrived just under two hours after the 4.05 p.m. express. Clearly there were many alternative ways for M. Caratal to reach London; one wonders if the murderous Herbert de Lernac could have taken care of them all, despite his confident assertion of this. Would he, for instance, have risked derailing a main-line express and thereby killing and injuring many passengers? Such a procedure might have disposed of M. Caratal but there would have been a very thorough investigation of the accident. The slightest hint that it had been planned in France and carried out by a Frenchman would have caused an explosion of anti-French feeling that might have led to most serious consequences, including war. This may cause some surprise in view of the friendship between England and France (the Entente Cordiale as it was known) some 15 years later, but it must always been recalled that the two countries had a history of mutual dislike and frequent open war going back nearly a millennium. Only the rise of Germany following the Prussian victory over Napoleon III in 1871 led the English Government, which, as the saying goes, has always “interests, not allies” to come hesitantly to an agreement of sorts with France which might help to preserve the European balance of power. England had provided a refuge for the deposed French Emperor until his death in 1873 but recent developments on the political scene on the Continent, such as the rise of Anarchism and its associated acts of violence, had caused much suspicion of France amongst the English middle and upper classes. I suspect that De Lernac’s open confession of having conspired to commit a murder on English territory, and also having been accessory to the death of an English citizen – namely John Slater the engine driver – might well have told heavily against him at an extradition hearing. His “pull” with senior officials and politicians might have allowed him to get off on the murder charge in France but to do this he would have needed to bring these statements into the open and thus ensure his release. Immediately after this occurred, the police could have re- arrested him on an English warrant and let the English authorities extradite him. At the Old Bailey, facing the charges above, any evidence he possessed of French wrongdoing would be irrelevant and would never be heard in court.
Critical Note ACD is on record as having observed to Greenhough Smith, his editor at The Strand Magazine:
28 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 “My dear Smith, ... Though for that matter I should not in my own person hesitate at laying down a fresh line of rails (or a fresh railway line as I did in Story IVi) if by doing so I could get my effect. One must be masterful in telling a story.”ii
Though we may accept his assertion of auctorial independence, this story obviously has some major factual flaws, which could have been eliminated by simply consulting Bradshaw’s Guide and a large-scale map, and using the information they contain. ACD published the story in August 1898, setting the original crime in 1890. This was presumably because the Panama Scandal, which was to have disastrous consequences on the stability of French Governments throughout the 1890s, and was one of the factors involved in the infamous Dreyfus Affair which followed it in that decade, provided an excellent “framing device” for the story. As I remarked, it has always seemed to me that with a small amount of rewriting, it would have made an excellent Holmes story. But that, as Rudyard Kipling remarked, is another story; or, as we term it, another paper.
Acknowledgments I gratefully acknowledge the invaluable assistance of M. C. Black of the Irregular Special Railway Society, Paul Churchill, Victoria Gill of the Arthur Conan Doyle Collection of the Toronto Reference Library, the Liverpool Maritime Museum and the
Notes [1] The Lost Special and The Man With The Watches were so identified by Roger Lancelyn Green and by Christopher Morley. Two Sherlockian pastiches of Lady Sannox were written by the late Steve Clarkson, BSI and Peter Wood, BSI, the latter being published in Curious Incidents, Vol. 1, 2002, edited by Charles Prepolec. Other pastiches of B.24 and The Jew’s Breastplate are currently in preparation. [2] Could an “armed brig” – a two-masted sailing vessel – have had a reasonable chance of intercepting a steamship during the daylight hours? At night its chances of doing so – absent such modern-day navigational aids as radar and GPS systems - would seem slim or none. And what armament capable of sinking a moderate-sized steamship “spurlos versenkt,” as the U-boat commanders described it, could such a vessel have carried? I suspect M. de Lernac had been reading too many pirate stories, possibly concerning a Captain Sharkey... [3] In 1890, all British railways, except the Midland Railway, had three classes of compartment – First, Second and Third. Certain trains did not carry third- class passengers at all. When other railways followed the Midland’s 1874 example, in abolishing Second-class, they did not renumber the Third. This decision seems typically English in its eccentric nature but was probably due to Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 29 the fact that the First-class fare was cut to that of the old Second-class. The previous Third-class fare stayed the same but the facilities were upgraded to the previous Second-class level. Once again, the English class structure proves impervious to understanding! [4] The Lost Special was the fourth story written by ACD in this series but the third one published in The Strand Magazine. [5] Quoted from an e-mail communication to the
References [1] Bartholomew’s Half-Inch Scale Atlas of England and Wales (1903) Edinburgh: G. Bartholomew & sons. [2] Bradshaw’s 1887 Railway Guide (reprinted with enlarged typeface, 1968) Newton Abbott UK; David & Charles, Ltd. [3] Bradshaw’s General Railway and Steam Navigation Guide for August 1890, published by the Proprietors. [4] Scowcroft, P. (Nov. 1977). “Railways and Detective Fiction.” Journal of the Railway and Canal History Society, Vol. 23. pp. 87-93.
Peter Wood – A British-born Canadian Sherlockian, Peter was an active member of The Hounds of the Internet for several years, posting as “Dr. Wood, the brisk and capable GP.” He taught mathematics in high schools in the U.K. and Canada, then became a school media specialist and finally spent 10 years working on graduate degrees in Artificial Intelligence and its application to education before retiring in 1991. Peter founded the Sherlockian society, The C.P.R. Stockholders of Edmonton, Alberta in 1980 and was widely published in numerous Sherlockian journals. In one of these, “The Basic Library: Here’s a Second Opinion” (Canadian Holmes, Vol. 11, No. 1, Autumn 1987). Peter suggested some additions and deletions to the Shaw 100 list compiled by John Bennett Shaw. He was made a Master Bootmaker in 1983 and received his BSI investiture (The Second Stain) in 1985. Peter was the author of the book-length Sherlockian pastiche The Winged Wheel (Toronto: Metropolitan Toronto Reference Library, 1985), wherein Dr. Watson enters a motorcycle race on The Isle of Man. (This book is available through George Vanderburgh’s Battered Silicon Dispatch Box at www.batteredbox.com). In the last years of his life, Peter lived in Vancouver and was a member of The Stormy Petrels of British Columbia, serving as Priory Schoolmaster (discussion leader) and publishing a column on Internet happenings in The Petrel Flyer.
30 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 A look at the Brothers of Baker Street series
By Chris Redmond, M.Bt., BSI
Chris Redmond is editor of the website Sherlockian.Net, author of the Sherlock Holmes Handbook and other books, and a former editor of Canadian Holmes. He lives in Waterloo, Ontario.
here isn’t much about this pair of light mystery novels that qualifies them as Sherlockian. Still, collectors will probably want T Michael Robertson’s The Baker Street Letters and The Brothers of Baker Street in their bookcases, shelved right next to the two nonfiction volumes that really are about the Baker Street letters, that is, the correspondence directed to Mr. Sherlock Holmes at his last-known address. The two novels depend on a clever, if slight, premise: two young lawyers find themselves working in an office where the obligation to read and answer Mr. Holmes’ mail is part of their lease. Here they are in Baker Street, no longer a comfortable Victorian neighbourhood but a hugely rebuilt urban thorough- fare, and they find that their chambers occupy what was number 221B. The postman rings considerably more than twice and some of the mail that arrives leads to, well, complications. In the world outside fiction, such letters were indeed arriving until recently at 221 Baker Street (they now, apparently, go to the nearby Sherlock Holmes Museum). The occupant of the office block at number 221 was the Abbey National Building Society — what Canadians would call a trust company, or Americans a savings and loan — and its public relations department handled the Sherlockian mail. A selection of these letters was published in 1985 as Letters to Sherlock Holmes, edited by Richard Lancelyn Green, and they make touching and frequently amusing reading. (The volume in question is not to be confused with The Sherlock Holmes Letters, also edited by Green but devoted to more serious material from the columns of the world’s periodicals.) Beside the 1985 Letters, a Sherlockian might well have The Case of Sherlock Holmes’
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 31 Secretary (2010), a memoir by Tony Harries, who for some years held the job with Abbey National that involved answering those letters. As a hook for these two novels, then, Michael Robertson has lightly disguised Abbey National as Dorset National, leased some surplus square footage to his young solicitors, created a letter to Sherlock Holmes about a genuine crime and let the plot unfold. The first volume starts and ends in Baker Street but most of the action is set in Los Angeles – in hotels, back alleys, subway construction sites (who knew that Los Angeles has a subway system?) and a great many taxis. Robertson, who (according to the dust jacket) lives in California, has wisely set most of the book on home territory. The Pasadena Geological Institute, where some of the key events take place, is probably a thinly disguised Caltech. Los Angeles comes across to the reader as less glamorous than many other writers have made it, though less sordid than in many examples of the mean-streets genre. This easily read book is, let’s repeat, essentially comic; its detectives less than fearsome, its cabs endlessly available; its alleys free of junkies. It’s not common for a sequel to be better than the original, but it did happen with Arthur Conan Doyle, who learned a great deal about storytelling from his sloppy first Sherlock Holmes novel, A Study in Scarlet, and did so much better with the second one, The Sign of the Four. The same is clearly true for Robertson, for The Brothers of Baker Street is much better plotted and told than Letters. This time the action is restricted to London; that in itself will appeal to Sherlockians, even if there is some nagging doubt that the author understands the iconic “black cab” industry as well as he should. The narrative also makes a bit more use of Robertson’s initial gimmick. That there just happens to be an unbalanced person out there who claims to be a direct descendant of the unfairly maligned Professor Moriarty is, for the author of a book like this, more or less inevitable. Neither of these volumes, then, adds anything to a Sherlockian’s store of knowledge or wisdom, but they provide pleasant light reading. There is almost sure to be a third book and perhaps we can hope that it will bring greater Sherlockian complexity in the plot. Certainly the author has the formula for any number of sequels available to him.
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32 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 Letters From Lomax
Musing and comments from Peggy Perdue at the Arthur Conan Doyle Collection of the Toronto Reference Library.
“To the great mind, nothing is little.” –Sherlock Holmes
“Let’s get small.” –Steve Martin
little while ago our Bootprint told me than he had developed an interest in miniature books, and asked whether the Arthur Conan Doyle ACollection had any holdings in this area. For Mark and anyone else who enjoys these tiny tomes, the answer is that we do indeed have a collection of 83 or more of these items, depending on how you classify a miniature. The strict definition limits the size to no more than three inches (eight cm) high but in practice we can include somewhat larger items as long as “smallness” is an integral part of the book’s design. Our mini books reflect the content of their full sized counterparts, including editions of the Canon, pastiches and “writings on the writings.” Mini editions of the Holmes stories make up the bulk of the collection and apart from a few sham books for dollhouses that are all cover and no content, all of the mini books are printed with the full text. It’s an impressive feat but you would need a good magnifying glass and all of Holmes’ skill in using it if you actually wanted to read one of these eye-strainers. For most of us, these books are not meant to be read, but to be enjoyed with that delight that we sometimes reserve for things that are decorative but wholly impractical. These cute little Canonical confections include four attractive books by The Gleniffer Press of Scotland. (The Empty House, The Three Students, The Engineer’s Thumb and Silver Blaze). At 2 x 1.5 cm, each story becomes an entire volume. We also have The Adventure of the Veiled Lodger and The Five Orange Pips, published by the appropriately named Borrowers Press (both 2 x 1.5 cm.), as well as many more in this style from a variety of different publishers. The oldest books in the miniatures collection come from the Little Leather Library Corporation of New York, which published a series of 101 books (10 x 8 cm) in their Redcroft edition between 1920 and 1924. The focus of the series was on classic authors, featuring Emerson, Poe, Wilde and Tennyson among many others. The two stories they selected to represent the Canon were A Case of Identity and A Scandal in Bohemia. Most of the books in the minis collection are in English but we do have a couple of exotics. One is a German translation of The Speckled Band (Das Gefleckte Band, Zürich: Diogenes, 1983, 8 x6 cm.) and the second is a collection of Spanish pastiches (7 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 33 Novisimas Aventuras de Sherlock Holmes, by Enrique Jardiel Poncela, Barcelona: Ediciones G.P., n.d. 10.5 x 7.5 cm) Of special interest are the miniature books that are the work of familiar names from the Sherlockian community. These include Collecting Sherlockiana: an essay by John Bennett Shaw (Bradenton, FL: Opuscula, 1992, 5.5 x 7 cm), The Whole Art of Detection, also by John Bennett Shaw (Chicago: Black Cat Press, [1968], 6.5 x 5 cm.) and The Sherlockian Triviality Index by Sheldon Wesson (Evanston, IL: Press of Ward Schori, 1988, 6 x 5.5 cm) Some of these represent writings that were published elsewhere, but which were also considered suitable for reprinting as miniatures. One book that would just not be the same published in full size is The ABC’s of Baker Street by Dee Snyder (Skokie, IL: Black Cat Press, 1983 7 x 5 cm). This book is a detailed description of every single household item at 221B Baker Street, from “acid” to “gasogene “ to Watson’s “yellow-backed novels.” It’s based on a very close reading of the Holmes stories and meant to be a resource for people who are working on miniature Sherlockian dollhouses or room boxes. Dee Snyder is a talented Sherlockian miniaturist who also created the Holmes’ Hearth Vignette Plan and wrote A Baker Street dozen : a guide to the registered Sherlock Holmes rooms and houses by members of the Mini-Tonga Scion Society of the Baker Street Irregulars. For anyone interested in making their own miniature books, it’s worth noting that some are created without a great deal of fuss. For example, we have a collection of five stories by pastiche writer Val Andrews which is collectively called Sherlock Holmes in Retirement (NY: Magico Magazine, 1983). Each of the five stories in this series is bound separately in a 10.5 x 7 cm. booklet. The cover is coloured card paper and the textblock simply nine or 10 pages cut to size, folded and stapled in the middle. This is a miniature book that anyone with a good printer could produce with satisfying results. Others are more elaborate productions that are, in their tiny little way, fine examples of the art of bookbinding. For example, one edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles (Leipzig: Miniaturebuchverlag, 2007) is only 5.5 x 4 cm but has a tooled leather binding, original illustrations, and a custom-made box and endpapers. With this level of skill potentially at work it’s no surprise that the miniature bookbinding world has its own celebrities. One of the highpoints of our collection is 44 2 x 1.5 cm canonical tales handmade by noted miniature bookbinder Barbara Rehab. Ms. Raheb was a prolific publisher of miniatures until she found that her eyesight was failing her about 10 years ago – a condition that would naturally affect miniaturists even more than the rest of us. (See articles.latimes.com/2002/aug/25/local/me- vision25) We’re fortunate to have a nearly complete set of the Sherlockian publications she created before retiring. One of our most unique miniatures is a 7 cm tall hound-shaped edition of HOUN. (Hound of the Baskervilles: conclusion and retrospective, Loket, Czeck
34 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 Republic: Jan and Jarmila Sobota, 2006). I happened to come across this one at a miniature book exhibition at the Grolier Club when I was vacationing in New York City. Only 20 of these books were made but thanks to the serendipitous timing, I was able to contact the book artist in time to purchase signed copy #18. This truly whimsical piece can be seen in the photo accompanying this article. It’s a shame that we can’t provide photos of all the miniature books because they really need to be seen to be appreciated. I would encourage anyone interested in this collection or in information about the related field of miniature Sherlockian room boxes to pay us a visit. As well, there will be a case featuring miniature books in the gallery show Adventures with Sherlock Holmes, which we are expecting to mount in the Toronto Reference Library’s new TD Gallery in early 2012.
ETTERS
Editor:
In his excellent and readable commentary on the new BBC-TV series about Sherlock Holmes, Mietek Padowicz refers to the modern Holmes addiction to texting as a perfect replacement for the lost telegram “and thrice daily mail.” In reality, Victorian Londoners would have felt aggrieved by mail which was collected or delivered a mere three times a day. Here is the collection schedule in the late 1880s for the letter box at Pont Street in Kensington (near Cadogan Place): 1:00, 3:00, 8:45, 9:45, 11:45, 12:05, 12:45, 1:45, 3:45, 4:45, 5:30, 6:00, 7:00, 8:00 and 9:00 – in all 15 collections over a day. In inner London (i.e. within three miles of St. Martin’s-le-grand, where the GPO was headquartered) there were 10 deliveries a day, so that would have included 221B Baker Street. Just for interest, I should note that even today most Londoners benefit from two deliveries on weekdays and at least two pickups at the nearest letter box. And the postage costs are lower than in Canada!
Peter Calamai, M.Bt., BSI
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 35 The Bootmakers and The ACD Collection of the Toronto Public Library
By Dayna Nuhn, M.Bt, BSI, ASH – Meyers, 2011
n 1969 one of those serendipitous events common to the world of books took place. The Toronto Public Library acquired two large collections of I Sherlockian material, consisting of first editions and other rare items, in part through Toronto Antiquarian bookseller, Hugh Anson-Cartwright. Library staff saw the potential for this material to form the foundation of a special collection dedicated to the life and works of Arthur Conan Doyle, and so the ACD Collection was founded formally in 1970 with Cameron Hollyer as its first curator. The first home was the Toronto Central Library at College and St. George. The Collection was formally opened to the public in January of 1971 and in honour of this auspicious event, the Library sponsored a conference in December of that year called “A Weekend with Sherlock Holmes,” at which several prominent international Sherlockians introduced Toronto to the greater Sherlockian world. Locals attending that conference, encouraged by John Bennett Shaw, decided that Toronto was ready for its own Sherlockian society. From that conference the Bootmakers of Toronto was born and had its meeting in February 1972. For the next two decades Cameron Hollyer nurtured and oversaw the growth of the Collection and was also a prominent and enthusiastic member of the Bootmakers. The wit of some of his early meeting notices and newsletters (precursors of Canadian Holmes) are a treat to read. His encouragement started several Sherlockian scholars on the road to lifelong adventures. From the beginning, the ACD Collection and the Bootmakers have been linked and have since grown together in a symbiotic relationship. The Bootmakers have benefited from having a world-class collection at its disposal for research and access to the world of Sherlock Holmes and Doyle. The Collection also stores our archives and displays our trophies, has promoted the society by having brochures available in the room, and we are given a special rate for our meetings in the Beeton Auditorium. To support the Collection in a more specific way, a group of Bootmakers formed The Friends of the Arthur Conan Doyle Collection as a way to separately and formally support and promote the Collection. Over the years the Library, the Friends and the Bootmakers have co-sponsored several very successful international conferences, the third one will be SinS in October 2011.
36 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 Since 1977, the Collection has been housed in the ACD Room at the Toronto Public Library’s Reference branch at 789 Yonge Street. It has provided a wonderful environment, evocative of the rooms at 221B Baker Street, but is only open during limited hours. Lovers of the Collection were happy to learn that it will now become an important part of a Special Collections Rotunda on a newly renovated fifth floor that will bring together several of the Library’s wonderful special collections of art, early Canadiana and more. When the move is completed, we can look forward to expanded hours to utilize the Collection. The Bootmaker executive decided that this was an excellent time to support “our collection” and voted to make a $1,000 donation (spread over three years) to The Toronto Reference Foundation’s re:vitalize Campaign in support of the ACD Collection’s new home. With this level of support we will have our name added to a special Campaign Donor Wall. The Bootmakers are proud to be a part of this new incarnation for the ACD Collection and look forward to visiting it when it reopens.
A Toast to Dr. Watson: The Original Good Cop Presented to The Bimetallic Question by Susan Ruth Fitch on January 3rd, 2011
Here’s to a man of gentle mien: When our Sherlock was seeming a trifle mean Watson mended that social gap.
Yes, today when niceness is out of style It’s good to remember John Watson awhile. Holmes oft hid his gentler side.
He was the original “good cop.” The thought of danger could never stop Watson’s sorties to sleuth with Holmes.
Ah! Here’s to a medical man with flair. Mary Morstan decided him quite debonair. Love was sparked on a case with Holmes
And in diligence taking his pen in hand He regaled the nation, regaled the land With his gripping tales of Holmes.
“Here’s to you, old chap!” one night, said Holmes. “I’m grateful you penned those wretched tomes. Bless you Watson.” And so say we.
To Dr. Watson.
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 37
ews Notes from across the country
Halifax — The Spence Munros had a luncheon meeting on July 17th at the Taj Mahal restaurant in downtown Halifax. This venue was chosen to honour Dr. Watson’s military service. Nine of the faithful showed up for the curry meal and to discuss The Adventure of the Resident Patient. Although there was a hook in the ceiling above the table we sat at, it was, thankfully not used for the same purpose as the ceiling hook in the story. Once again, quizmaster Morley Wills provided the mental workout for the group. JoAnn Alberstat won the prize with the most correct. Morely also provided serveral items for show and tell.
Montreal — Members of the Bimetallic Question met at The Westmount Public Library on June 2nd to discuss part one of A Study in Scarlet. Roger Burrows ran away with first place, scoring a perfect 102 on Patrick Campbell’s quiz. The first toast of the evening was by Maureen Anderson, who toasted Holmes. The second toast, one to Dr. Watson, was given by Paul Billette. The toast to The Woman was given by Roger Burrows. Wilfrid de Freitas, via e-mail, provided the toast to Mrs. Hudson, while David Dowse toasted The Society. The show and tell selection at this meeting included Chris Herten-Greaven’s three bound volumes of Punch magazine from 1911. Twenty-one members and guests braved the road construction on Sherbrooke Street to attend the August 4th meeting, which was chaired by Acting Sovereign David Dowse. Toasts (some planned, some impromptu) were proposed to the usual suspects. The quiz on The Resident Patient was won by Carol Abramson.
Vancouver — Eighteen Stormy Petrels were out on August 13th for lawn games at Sale and Orilea Martell’s home. The games included croquet, bocce and Getting Gertie’s Garter, a game where one throws hoops of different dimensions and weights at a shapely mannequin leg sticking up out of the lawn. The west coast club also met on May 3rd at Sherlock’s British Sweets, Groceries & Soccer in New Westminster. The story discussed at this meeting was the apocryphal tale The Man with the Watches. The story was roundly disliked and called formulaic and unrealistic. The club’s planned June 25th trek to Shannon Falls was switched to the closer Capilano Dam, where the traditional wreath was thrown into the water in memory of Holmes and Moriarty’s struggle on the edge of the Reichenbach. The assembled members then retreated to the dry warmth of Len and Elsa Haffenden’s home for lunch.
38 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011
OOTMAKERS’ DIARY
… it is a page from some private diary. - The Five Orange Pips
Editor’s Note: Thanks go out to Donny Zaldin and Bob Coghill for compiling this edition of Bootmakers’ Diary.
Sunday, May 15th, 2011: Movie Night
On Sunday, May 15th, just over a dozen Bootmakers arrived at Bob Coghill’s condo for a special viewing of Anthony Mann’s new film, Sherlock Holmes and the Shadow Watchers. Mr. Mann, the film’s director and lead actor arrived with actor Ilke Hincer to meet the Bootmakers and give an introduction to their film. Fresh from the world premiere that was held at Kingston’s Empire Theatre, Mr. Mann and Mr. Hincer were enthusiastic about the project and pleased to present the film to a group of Sherlockians. Mann's website (http://www.sherlockholmesadventures.ca/) describes the film this way:
Sherlock Holmes and the Shadow Watchers is a new filmic adventure of the Great Detective, produced in Kingston, Ontario (Canada). It will be available on DVD and for online download commencing May 2011, and is an authentic Holmes mystery produced with the kind permission of the Conan Doyle Estate. The cast includes Anthony Mann as Sherlock Holmes and Terry Wade as Dr. Watson ... with Richard Kerr, Ilke Hincer, Angella Scott, Rick Cairns, Michael Pontbriand, Noelle Piche and Richard Piperni (also co-producer) ... along with a supporting cast of fine Canadian talent.
The consensus of the group was that the film was quite enjoyable and the story had some clever ideas and twists. Both Mann and Hincer welcomed questions about the story, the film and the making of the film and we were all impressed with how good a film could be made with a very small budget. Several Bootmakers purchased copies of the DVD and Mann presented copies to Peggy Perdue for the ACD Collection and one to Bob Coghill for hosting the event. Anyone who would like to see the film can check with Bob or Peggy to make arrangements.
Canadian Holmes Fall 2011 39 Saturday, July 16th, 2011: The Silver Blaze Event (at Woodbine Race Course, Toronto)
Twenty-six Bootmakers and guests (Suzanne Adams, Bruce Aikin, Pat Blake, Kathy Burns, Karen Campbell, Ed Christenson, Dave Drennan, Lynn Drennan, Philip Elliott, Margot French, Dino Inglesi, Brenda Inglesi, Pat Perdue, Peggy Perdue, Renee Mactaggart, Sylvia Mowat, Dayna Nuhn, Goldie Rash, Jan Raymond, Trevor Raymond, Barbara Rusch, Dave Sanders, Christine Thomas, Stephanie Thomas, Victoria Thompson, and Donny Zaldin) attend this year’s twenty-fourth annual Bootmakers of Toronto Silver Blaze Event in the second floor Favourites Dining Room at Woodbine Race Course, Toronto. The sporting/social/culinary activity is arranged by outgoing Colonel Ross, Karen Campbell, who, after more than ten years of able stewardship, is passing the baton (back) in 2012 to our inaugural race organizer, Donny Zaldin. Bootmaker and standardbred enthusiast Victoria Thompson makes special arrangements for four Bootmakers to visit the broadcast booth of track announcer, Dan Loiselle for his exciting call of the running of the second race. Pat Blake, Lynn Drennan, Barbara Rusch, and Renee Mactaggart, chosen by random draw, form the lucky delegation. This year’s Silver Blaze Event is the 6½ furlong, $70,300 purse Allowance race number 5 of twelve 3+ year non-winner fillies and mares. Horses nos. 9, 8 and 3, Poof Too, More Miss Crissy and Endless Approval take win, place and show. Following the race, six members of our company, chosen by random draw, Suzanne Adams, Bootmaker photographer Bruce Aikin, Margot French, Dino Inglesi, Pat Perdue (dressed in Holmesian deerstalker hat and Inverness cape) and Peggy Perdue grace the winner’s circle to present the winning team of horse, owner, trainer and jockey, with an engraved trophy from the BOT of a thoroughbred with jockey at full gallop. Donny Zaldin and Barbara Rusch hold their fourteenth annual non- consecutive Silver Blaze Event (Notional) Betting Contest, which is won by long-time Bootmaker and former Bootprint, Trevor Raymond, who has recovered from a serious illness and recently celebrated the first anniversary of the rest of his life, with his lovely and loving wife Jan. The Quizzards also hold a contest with accompanying prize for finding the best Sherlockian link from the name of one of the entered horses, its programme number, jockey, owner, trainer or colours. Runner-up entries include: Archagonnakissme (a possible query by Milverton’s housemaid, Agatha of her fiancé, Escott, the plumber), Endless Approval (sought by Watson of Holmes), and Galloping d’Amour (“The Woman,” Irene Adler in her carriage en route to marry Godfrey Norton). Barbara Rusch and Dave Sanders each submit the winning entry, the horse, Flower Exchange, which calls to mind the embellishment of life of a moss-rose in “The Naval Treaty,” which Holmes muses gives us our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence. Everyone enjoys the sumptuous buffet luncheon of cold appetizers, hot entrées and sweet desserts, served over the course of the afternoon. 40 Canadian Holmes Fall 2011
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