Dr Watson Jr Rediscovers The Mystery of The Century

I found this wonderful Sherlockian article published in the Daily Telegraph in 1939, reflecting back on The Hound of the Baskervilles and the enduring quality of Doyle's work.... concluding that HOUN is "The Mystery of the Century" - not bad given that it was published across 1901-02 and that the article was written a few months before the start of WW2. Enjoy!

The Daily Telegraph (Sydney, NSW)  

Sat 3 Jun 1939 

Mr Montaigne's Bookshelf

Dr. Watson Jr. Rediscovers The Mystery Of The Century

"THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES," by Sir Arthur Cohan Doyle. (Reprint by Newnes). Dymock's. 

"DR. MORTIMER'S voice sank to a whisper as he answered, 'Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound.'"

I still rank that as the most dramatic, passage in mystery literature.

It is happily appropriate that the passage should occur in "The Hound of the Baskervilles," because I have been confirmed in my original view that this is the best of the Sherlock Holmes long stories on reading Newnes' cheap reprint of the classic this week.

Family curses are always a gratifyingly supernatural background for mystery, and this grim West Country legend of the giant hound that plucked the throats from all the Baskervllles who ventured on "the moor in those dark hours when the powers of evil are exalted," has enough horror and suspense for 10 family curses.

I myself incline to the view that in this case Holmes was rapidly approaching the zenith of his powers, and that that year (1889) marks a definite cycle in his immortal career.

In 1889, in addition to the Baskerville murder mystery, he cleared up "the little affair of the Vatican cameos" at the Pope's personal request, exposed "the atrocious conduct of Colonel Upwood in connection with the famous card scandal of the Nonpareil Club," and "defended the unfortunate Mme. Montpensier from the charge of murder which hung over her in connection with the 'death' of her stepdaughter, Mlle. Carere, the young lady who, as it will be remembered, was found six months later alive and married in New York."

Master's Portrait

Holmes himself tells Sir Henry Baskervllle, "I am not sure that, of the five hundred cases of capital importance which I have handled, there is one which cuts so deep as this one."

He also declares to Inspector Lestrade that the case is "the biggest thing for years," although his honesty compels him to recall "the analogous incidents in Grodno, Little Russia, in the year '66, and, of course, the Anderson murders in North Carolina."

The reverent student will also find in "The Hound of the Baskervilles" one of the finest full-length portraits of Holmes which Watson has given us.

There are these memorable human vignettes of The Master:

His asperity when Dr. Mortimer impiously hints that Bertillon is his superior. ("Then, sir, had you not better consult him?") 

His emotion when he discovers that the second victim of the hound is Selden, the escaped convict, and not Sir Henry. ("Holmes had uttered a cry and bent over the body. Now he was dancing and laughing and wringing my hand. Could this be my stern, self-contained, friend? These were hidden fires, indeed!")

His grim jesting when he has spread his net for the foul Stapleton. ("He burst into one of his rare fits of laughter as he turned away from the picture. I have not heard Holmes laugh often, and it has always boded ill for someone.")

His good-natured scorn for Watson's deductive powers.. ("I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your conclusions were erroneous.

When I said that you stimulated me, I meant, to be frank, that in noting your fallacies I was occasionally guided towards the truth.")

"The Hound of the Baskervilles" also contains some famous Sherlockiana:

"Eyes in the back of my head. Watson? I have at least a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me:"

"It would be a poor expert who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may possibly have read my little monograph on the subject."

"I think we'll shut that window again, Watson. It is a singular thing, but I find that a concentrated atmosphere helps a concentration of thought."

"It is not what we know, but what we can prove."

"A study of family portraits is enough to convert a man to the doctrine of reincarnation."

"The detection of type in newspapers is one of the most elementary branches of knowledge for the expert in crime, although I confess that once, when I was very young, I confused the Leeds Mercury with the Western Morning News." . . .

Reproach To Moderns

The plot of "The Hound" still shows no signs of Anno Domini; the detection is honest and prodigal; and the action is swift and dramatic throughout, from the chase of the black-bearded shadower in his cab down Regent Street to the terrific apparition of the great hound in the fog on the moor.

The subsidiary figures are all skilfully and convincingly drawn— Barrymore, the mysterious butler, who signalled with a candle at the window; his wife, who sobbed in the night; Squire Frankland, the eternal, litigant; Mrs. Laura Lyons, who wrote the letter that lured Sir Charles to his tryst with the hound of death.

All in all, I insist, "The Hound of the Baskervllles"' remains the mystery of the century, a classic that is at once a reproach and an example to most modern mystery writers.

I am not ashamed to admit that my glass of cognac shook with honest emotion as I toasted the last sentence of The Master, as typically Holmesian as his faded dressing-gown and Persian slipper of tobacco:

"And now, my dear Watson, I have a box for 'Les Huguenots.' Have you heard the De Reszkes? Might I trouble you then to be ready in half an hour and we can stop at Marcini's for a little dinner on the way."

—DR. WATSON, JUN.

Dorothy Bowers, sighted!!

I've spent quite a bit of energy putting together the information I can on the novelist Dorothy Bowers (1902-1948). I have a listing of most of the information I've managed to track down in a biography with sourcing, as well as transcribed the only short story found so far - The Spy at Chateau Bas.

In my biographical post, I note that "I have found little biographical information on Dorothy’s life, and as far as I can ascertain, no photo of Dorothy is known to exist." 

I've continued to search for answers to both where Dorothy's remains were interred (or what their fate was), and to seek out a photograph. FINALLY I've tracked down a poor quality photograph of Dorothy. It's a start. The photograph was taken around 1938, when Dorothy was 36 at the time of the publication of her first book. It makes me realize that the Hodder & Stoughton archives might hold a photo of Dorothy in their files.

Liverpool Daily Post - Wednesday 24 August 1938

Six Napoleons of Baltimore dinner - 6th September 2024

The Six Napoleons of Baltimore switched to a new format for 2024, with two meetings each year, both held at the Maryland Club. I reported on the previous meeting here. This meeting had a wonderful group of out-of-town visitors - from ten states (!), and was larger than the March meeting. It is evolving into a marque meeting for the regional Sherlockians - there's nothing so grand in DC or surrounding areas, and provides a true sense of occasion. The room itself had animal heads mounted on all four walls, a massive fireplace, and an 8 foot (at least) tall brown bear standing imposingly in one corner. The toasts were wonderful and inventive - my favorite was Shana Carters' sung tribute to Cab Calloway, who spent his formative years in Baltimore. Sadly, I do not have a recording.

The agenda shows that toasts were also made by Evy Herzog (Baltimore), Mike McSwiggin, Ira Matetsky, and Dennis Keiser. Karen Wilson did a wonderful job as Gasogene, both running the show, and facilitating a wonderful discussion of the story for the evening: The Adventure of the Creeping Man. Karen always organizes a quiz, and Shana and PJ tied for the win with 14/15. I don't even try the quizzes - recall isn't one of my strong points.

The highlight of the evening is the presentation by a postulant - a necessary step on the path to becoming a full member of the Six Napoleons. Xander Sobecki brought with him from Chicago a full set of armor that he uses for re-enactments, and described the origin of each piece of armor, considerations for wearing and fighting in armor (including how to get through airports with a 65 pound of suit of armor), what we know and don't know about military garb and practice, and where ACD's "The White Company" took liberties with history. I thought Xander ended with a nice point: were it not for Doyle, enthusiasm for medieval history entering the 20th century would not have been as strong. Xander looked fantastic - he dined and presented in armor. More on the helmet shortly.....

Finally, I presented the traditional "Sonnet for a Six Napoleons Dinner", read out at each dinner. The text (below) was written by 'Napoleon' James T. Hyslop, and published in the original Volume 2 (issue 3) of the Baker Street Journal in 1947. I wanted to look at my copy of that issue, and found that the sonnet was included as part of a report of the most recent meeting of the Six Napoleons.

And so, in the interest of being thorough, I transcribe here the report of that first Six Napoleons meeting in 1947, when the Sonnet was read for the first time. Typos are carried over from the original text.

THE SIX NAPOLEONS OF BALTIMORE

    OFFICERS: Paul S. Clarkson (Harker), Gasogene; Allen Robertson (Beppo), Tantalus; James T Hyslop (Peterson), Commissionaire. All communications should be addressed to Mr. Robertson at 3963 Greenmount Avenue, Baltimore 18, Md.

    Our meeting was held at the University Club, and all Six of the Nepoleons met at the Criterion Bar and raised the traditional toast at 6 P.M. We were honored to have as our guest on of the newly designated captains of the Maryland police, Lt. Alex L. Emerson, who gave us an interesting sidelight on the use of the bloodhound in the solution of crime.

    Richard Q. Yardley presented to the Gasogene the original of the cartoon appearing in the Sun for January 4th: his discussion of Holmes was erudite, as was the new theory on the famous tooth episode presented by Dr. John C. Heck, a neophyte on the lore who will pass the required examination.

    The Tantalus read the correspondence he had had with the Hon. J. Edgar Hoover, who was delighted with the portfolio of Scotland Yard photographs presented by Commissionaire Hyslop. Prof. James H. Fitzgerald Brewster, of Johns Hopkins University, reported that Sherlock Holmes was correct in his opinion of Monsieur Bertillon, whose testimony in the Dreyfuss case helped to cause a miscarriage of justice. Napoleon Paxton asserted definitely that Devine did not make the bust of Napoleon. It was decided to review A Scandal in Bohemia for the next assembly. The Tantalus reported that a subscription had been entered for the JOURNAL in the name of the Enoch Pratt Library of Baltimore. 

    The Napoleons submit, for the delight of the JOURNAL's readers, this "Sonnet for a 'Six Napoleons' Dinner" written by James T. Hyslop:

We have two honored guests with us tonight:

Each in our hearts reserves for them a chair.

One, tall, beak-nosed, keen-eyed and spare,

The other broad, full-faced and of a medium height-

Two men to whom the world owes much delight.

"The game's afoot" we hear the taller one declare;

Let us adjourn with that immortal pair,

To where a London gaslamp sheds a feeble light:

Let's join Inspectors Gregson and Lestrade

In paying tribute to our famous host;

Let's sample tantalus and gasogene,

Discussing crimes that tantalized the Yard,

And these two men, in mem'ry ever green:

To Holmes and Watson, gentlemen, a toast!

That Jezail bullet and early Australian Sherlockian studies

Here's an interesting item from 1901 in the Daily News from Perth Western Australia.

The location of Watson's wound has long been a source of both Sherlockian study, and Sherlockian humor. The location of the wound, and pain that Watson accorded to the wound, moved around Watson's body. MANY articles and analyses of Watson's wounds have been published, and included proposals that the bullet entered at one site, then moved through the body to another site, or exited and entered at a second site.

It would be impossible to summarize the debates and Sherlockian analyses, but there are some wonderful podcasts and posts that provide overviews and discussions of their own. Here are a couple that cover the topic well:

• Sherlockiana: Dr. Watson‘s Injuries -  https://www.fext.eu/other/sh-watson-injuries.htm 
• Episode 172 of Trifles: https://www.sherlockholmespodcast.com/2020/04/episode-172-mystery-of-watsons-second.html 
• WATSON’S WAR WOUND - https://simanaitissays.com/2017/01/24/watsons-war-wound/ 

The topic has also attracted quite a number of academic medical discussions, publications, and editorials (that might be a good topic for a future blog post).

Back to the newspaper article in 1901, by "Needle". I'd be intrigued to know if this is the first "Sherlockian" discussion of Watson's wandering wound. In this short piece in a regular column titled Points, Needle claims to have discovered a slight inconsistency. I've checked the British Newspaper Archive and couldn't 'easily' identify any article this early discussing the topic.

The Daily News (Perth, WA : 1882 - 1955) Mon 1 Apr 1901

POINTS

[By Needle]

I have discovered a slight inconsistency in two of the Sherlock Holmes stories — not at the first time of reading. In "A Study in Scarlet," the ex-army doctor writes : — "At the fatal battle of Maiwand I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet." When he is introduced to Sherlock Holmes, the latter notices that his left arm has been injured — he holds it in a stiff and unnatural manner. In "The Sign of Four," Watson writes: — "I sat nursing my wounded leg. I had had a Jezail bullet through it a short time before, and it still ached wearily at every change of the weather." Now, Watson could not have been wounded both in the shoulder and the leg before meeting Holmes, or else the latter would have noticed that he limped. He could not have been wounded by a Jezail bullet while practising as a doctor in Baker-street, London. The obvious inference is that Conan Doyle, in writing the second story, remembered the Jezail bullet but forget where it had found its entry. 

There is then a short follow-up about another story with a continuity issue:

"There is a far more striking discrepancy in a detective story by the late Hawley Smart. A man says to the Scotland Yard detective — "We have heard of your fame in these parts." Later on we find that the same man had no idea that his companion was one of the cracks of Scotland Yard."

This is definitely not the first Sherlockian article in Australian newspapers, but this one is on a contemporary recognizable topic. As for Needle, he went on to publish at least one long article on the Sherlock Holmes stories in 1906 that is an absolute delight. Needle reprises his observations on the bullet as part of his article, but also seems to catch on to several other now-classic Sherlockian discussions such as the path to the Empty House that looks across at 221B, visiting the famous street itself, and picking apart a trifle in a story (in this case "The Three Students"):

The Daily News (Perth, WA ) 

Sat 24 Nov 1906

CONCERNING SHERLOCK HOLMES.

If I were a superior person, a highly intellectual and highly-salaried critic, I should perhaps affect never to have heard of Sherlock Holmes, or, at least never to have read and approved any story to which he figures. Being a very ordinary person I confess without shame that I have in my possession everyone of the "Sherlock Holmes" stories from "A Study in Scarlet" to "The Return," and that I have read everyone at least twice. I began with either "The Boscombe Valley Mystery" or "The Five Pips," when the "Adventures" were being published serially in the flrst volume of the "Strand Magazine." Then came the second set of "Adventures," afterwards called (rather prematurely) "Memoirs." I remember distinctly buying the number in which the "Final Problem" appeared. The frontispiece showed "The Death of Sherlock Holmes" — who was falling over the cliff locked in the arms of Moriarty. I bought "A Study in 'Scarlet," "The Sign Of Four," and also the "Adventures" in book form (in order that I might read those which I had missed), and I mourned that Holmes was dead — wantonly killed, because his biographer was tired of him — and that we were never to hear any more of the famous detective. In "Tit Bits" for

December 15, 1900, there was an interesting article (by Conan Doyle) which I transferred to my scrap-book. "By the time I had finished the Memoirs," said the author, "I was absolutely determined that it would be bad policy to do any more Holmes stories. I have always noticed that the ruin of every novelist who has come up has been effected by driving him into a groove. The public gets what it likes, and insisting on getting it, makes him go on until he loses his freshness. Then the public turns round and says, "He has only one idea, and can write only one sort of story.... From that day to this I have never for an instant regretted the course I took in killing Sherlock."  And the writer seems to hedge a little: "This does not say, however, that because he is dead, I should not write about him again, if I wanted to, for there is no limit to the number of papers he has left behind, or to the reminiscences in the brain of his biographer." And it was not very many months before it was announced that, although Holmes was still dead, the

"biographer'" had consented to relate one of his earlier adventures, "The Hound of the Baskervilles," in the "Strand Magazine." It struck me, when I read this story, that there was too

much Watson, and too little Holmes. Month after month went past, and still the detective did not appear, and when he made his dramatic entry into the lonely hut at the end of one number, he had been absent for 150 pages - nearly half of the book. Having once yielded to temptation Conan Doyle was persuaded to yield again, and to discover that Holmes had not perished with Moriarty, but had lived to undergo many surprising adventures. It is rather amusing to turn back to the "Final Problem" of 12 years ago, and to read that an examination by experts leaves little doubt that a personal contest between the two men ended, as it could hardly fail to end in such a situation, in their reeling over, locked in each other's arms." It is amusing also to find the "biographer" six years afterwards telling how he "determined to bring Holmes to an end, as well as the stories": — "I was in Switzerland for the purpose of giving a lecture at the time, when I was thinking about the details of the final, story. I was taking a walking tour through the country, and I came to a waterfall. I thought if a man wanted to meet a gaudy kind of death, that was a fine romantic place for the purpose. That started the train of ideas, by which Holmes just reached that spot, and met his death there."

Was it a mistake for the author to bring Mr. Holmes to life again, or rather to prove that he was not dead? I know the orthodox answer - that it was a great mistake - that it was bad art - that the "Return" stories show a lamentable falling off, and so forth. But I am not quite sure - if it was a mistake, I am rather glad the mistake was made. Of course Holmes had no difficulty in demonstrating that Watson had blundered, as usual, and had deduced Holmes's death from an imperfect reading of the signs and traces, but I confess that the explanation of the reasons which induced Holmes to keep his secret so long, was not very convincing. This long silence on the detective's part gave him an opportunity for another of his favorite "dramatic entries," but I think we feel that the real Sherlock could not, and would not have treated his old friend in this way. "I had only one, confidant - my brother Mycroft," explains Sherlock.... "Several times during the last

three years I have taken up my pen to write to you, but always I feared lest your affectionate regard for me should tempt you to some indiscretion which would betray my secret." No, it won't quite do, but readers of fiction must be content sometimes to "make believe very much." It is the fashion to discover signs of failing power in a man's latest works, and it was obviously impossible for the thirtieth "Adventure" to have the same freshness as the first. Holmes had been imitated and burlesqued again and again. Readers were familiar with his method, of deducing surprising things from a man's trousers, or his boots, or his hat. They were familiar with his stock phrases  - "The case presents some features of interest" (in the preliminary stages) - "You know my methods— apply them" (when poor Watson was in his chronic state of bewilderment), and "Commonplace!" in reply to Watson's admiring comments on Sherlock's marvellous subtlety. And yet I think if a critic who had not read all the earlier stories were shown three "Adventures" and were offered £5 for a correct answer to the question, "Are any of these from "The Return," and if so, which ?" he would have an excellent chance of not getting the money. I have a liking tor the last but one in the series, "The Abbey Grange." I think it was originally intended to be the last — if we may believe the statement on page 369, and if so, the author was evidently bent on making a good finish. So, like a conjurer, who arranges to "fail" in one marvel, in order that he may have the opportunity of surprising his audience with something more marvellous, the author represents Holmes as returning from the Abbey Grange without having been able to upset the surprising story which had been told by the mistress, corroborated by the maid, and accepted by the official detective. And then Holmes suddenly jumps out at a suburban station, pulls Watson after him, announces his intention of testing the case once more and thus the fun begins. What has he to go upon? Nothing definite, except that of the three glasses from which the burglars were supposed to have drunk port, only one contained beeswing. From this he infers that only two glasses were used, and that the dregs were poured into the third, in order to make it appear that three had drunk. Obviously if the story of the three burglars was false in one particular, it was extremely likely to be false in all.

I am not sure that a wholly consistent biography of Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes could be extracted from these thirty-nine stories, of which the first was written in 1887, and the last

fifteen or sixteen years later. But it is curious that an obvious inconsistency should occur between the first story and the second. In "A Study in Scarlet" Watson states that, at the battle of Maiwand he, was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. In "A Sign of Four" Watson is discovered "nursing his wounded leg." "I had had a Jezail bullet through It some time before, and though it did not prevent me from walking, it ached wearily at every change in the weather." It is easy to suggest that Watson might have been wounded twice, but this explanation will not serve. Watson was present at only one battle, and was invalided home.

It is interesting to me to turn back to the first story in "The Return," and to read how Holmes and Watson "emerged into a small road, which led us into Manchester-street, and so to Blandford-street," and how they made their way into an empty house, from which they had a back view of the famous house in Baker-street, which had been "the starting-point of so many adventures." There are, I suppose, several Manchester-streets in London, but there is only one from which a Blandford-street runs at right angles into Baker-street, and it was from Manchester-street that my last letter to "The Daily News" was written last year. I don't know which is the house that the author regards as having been the residence of Sherlock Holmes, but I must have passed it many times. Just a little carping criticism in conclusion. In "The Three Students" the author tells how a member of St Luke's College in "one of our great University towns" obtained access to his tutor's rooms and copied the proofs of a paper which was to be set next day in a scholarship examination. The tutor explains to Holmes that "the first of the paper consists of a large passage of Greek translation, which the candidate has not seen. To-day the proofs of the paper arrived from the printers. The exercise consists of half a chapter of Thucydides. The proof was in three long slips." On making inquiries I find that this is wrong in several ways. If the University was Cambrldge - the next story but one is located there - I am informed that an "unseen translation paper" usually consists not of one long passage, but of about four shorter passages. However, we may let that pass. A more serious objection is that there is no half-chapter in Thucydides of the required length. I have looked at a translation of Thucydides, and I find that the chapters are more like paragraphs, and that Macaulay's Essay on Lord Bacon is longer than any "book" of Thucydides. However, let us suppose that this paper consisted of a long passage from Thucydides - not half a chapter, but two chapters at least. Why should a man who was in imminent danger of detection laboriously set to work to copy the whole paper? He would certainly have a copy of Thucydides in his possession - and he would be familiar with most of it- all that he would require would be the reference to the passage set, and this he could easily get by noting two or three of the less usual words, and looking them out in his dictionary, which would be certain to quote the passage from which, one or other of these words was taken, and to give him chapter and verse. However, it is not essential to the story that the examination paper should consist of a passage of Thucydides or that it should be of such a kind that the man

who wished to make an unfair use of it would be obliged to copy it all. It has been suggested to me that a man who had just returned from practising the high jump (as Gilchrist, the offender, had done) wouldn't be likely to have gloves with him. This point did not occur to me when I read the story, and it was not till yesterday that it struck me that, if the athlete were in flannels, he wouldn't be likely to have a lead pencil with him. But we must allow a story writer a few

improbabilities, or there will be few stories.

Who was this Sherlockian journalist named Needle? Some digging was required. Needles was the pen-name of "Points" Pain, mentioned in an article or two as a brother of the British author Barry Pain (1864-1928). There was certainly some connection between Barry Pain and Conan Doyle, for example they met at the Authors Club. 

Working to identify the final mention uncovered this article that names the elusive Sherlockian.

The Pilbarra Goldfield News (Marble Bar, WA : 1897 - 1923)  

Fri 23 Sep 1910 

Mr. A.G.O. Pain, better known as the writer of "Points" by "Needle", in the "Daily News", died on Saturday from heart failure during an operation on one of his knee-caps. [A few weeks ago, just after coming out of the Church of England Cathedral, he slipped on a flag stone and fractured a knee cap].

He appears to have studied at Cambridge prior to emigrating to Australia. His death notice states that he left behind a wife Martha Kate Pain. Indexes reveal he was Allison George Odell Pain, who was aged 52 at his death in 1910, and buried at Karrakatta Cemetery. Pain has a monument plaque in his memory, where he was a member of the Cathedral Chapter and the honorary Organist of the Church.