I will focus on the Sherlock Holmes short stories that are certainly set in 1895. This has obviously something to do with the fact that the Sherlock Christmas Special has been announced to play in that year, but also with the important event of Oscar Wilde’s trials and their repercussions, which are quite blatantly alluded to or referenced in the 1895 stories. These stories are The Solitary Cyclist (late April), The Three Students (late April/early May?), Black Peter (early July) and The Bruce-Partington Plans (November).
The first story is The Solitary Cyclist, published in 1903. The plot is such: the main villain schemes to marry a Miss Violet Smith, who unbeknownst to her will inherit a large fortune upon her uncle’s death, and eventually he forces her to marry him, but as she was certainly unwilling the marriage is void (she was gagged and the others were armed, also the priest was defrocked and thus not allowed to perform a marriage ceremony). In my opinion, this case is the only 1895 one that’s really completely genuine. The case is an “outside” one: a client appears and seeks help and advice, unlike in the other cases, where the cases are brought to Holmes by a friend, Professor Soames, a police inspector who has worked with Holmes before and whom Holmes likes, Stanley Hopkins, and Brother Mycroft. Moreover, unlike The Three Students and The Bruce-Partington Plans, it has a clear and “final” ending: Miss Smith marries her fiancee and “all’s well”, the villains being sentenced to prison terms. The Three Students and The Bruce-Partington Plans are much more “hush-up”. However, this case is of some importance because Watson drew inspiration from it for another 1895 story, in my mind. Additionally, it is the only case set in 1895 where Holmes and Watson are not in some way hiding, but that is explicable: the most important, last trial has not begun yet, and the second one is only starting.
On to The Three Students, published in 1904. I have already analysed the opening paragraphs in some depth before, this being a quotation from my general analysis:
“It was in the year ‘95 that a combination of events, into which I need not enter, caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend some weeks in one of our great University towns […] It will be obvious that any details which would help the reader to exactly identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion the incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavour in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place, or give a clue as to the people concerned.”
Or to give a clue as to what really happened. So… Explanation:
1. In the year 1895 there were the Oscar Wilde trials, which caused a great many men who were more or less openly gay to “go on holiday” for a few months.
2. Universities were supposed to be more progressive than cities. Oscar Wilde met Robbie Ross at uni.
3. The “painful scandal” Watson is talking about here is about three students who are meant to sit a Greek exam, but one of them cheats. That’s not a scandal. Everybody who has even taken Greek knows that knowing the translation beforehand is the one way to pass.
4. They had to flee from London because of the public awareness the spectacular trials had caused, went to a friend of Holmes’.
5. But of course Watson could not say it like that, so he had to invent a virtually new case.
“No, no, my dear sir; such a course is utterly impossible. When once the law is evoked it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what you can.”
Taken out of context, this quote is suggestive.
The fact that even though Holmes is clearly everything but thrilled at being anywhere but Baker Street, he is not in London anyway, is fairly obvious: “My friend’s temper had not improved since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrap-books, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man.”
This is important because 3STU is not the only case where Holmes and Watson leave London for a prolonged period of time. What are they doing in that “university town”? The given reason (research into old charters) is more than suspicious. Yet if you consider the circumstances of the Oscar Wilde trials in April and May it becomes clear that the best thing to do if the slightest rumour about you existed was to flee. And given Watson’s writing, such rumours must have circulated.
“The exercise consists of half a chapter of Thucydides.” The exam papers that are left on the professor’s desk are taken from Thucydides, probably by his most famous work on the Peloponnesian War. Thucydides was a Athenian historian who lived in the 5th century BC and is known for being an analyst and “scientific” writer – he credits humans with their actions, not the gods. Furthermore, Athens (the most “glorious” city in Greece) was his home, but he was exiled for something that was not his fault. Does this sound like someone? Holmes, maybe? Here, Watson had to invent an exam, and he chose an author who mirrors Holmes.
But what is this story actually about then, if not the exam?
““The moment I looked at my table I was aware that someone had rummaged among my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all together. Now, I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one was on the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it.””
Professor Soames, who has been harbouring two fugitives, has left some incriminating papers of his own lying around, and is now extremely anxious to recover them.
Another hint that the papers are not, in fact, exam papers can be found here: “For an instant I imagined that Bannister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. […] A large sum of money is at stake” What this sounds like is – again – blackmail…
Professor Soames refuses to call in the police, saying equivocal things such as these: “Do help me, Mr. Holmes! You see my dilemma. Either I must find the man or else the examination must be postponed until fresh papers are prepared, and since this cannot be done without explanation there will ensue a hideous scandal, which will throw a cloud not only on the college, but on the University. Above all things I desire to settle the matter quietly and discreetly.”
Of course Holmes takes the case, and starts to ask about the three strips of paper the supposed exam is printed on. “Let me see the three strips. No finger impressions — no! Well, he carried over this one first and he copied it. How long would it take him to do that, using every possible contraction? A quarter of an hour, not less. Then he tossed it down and seized the next. He was in the midst of that when your return caused him to make a very hurried retreat — VERY hurried, since he had not time to replace the papers which would tell you that he had been there.”
This makes absolutely no sense if what the student was copying was indeed Thucydides. It is completely unnecessary to copy three sheets of densely packed Greek text, the student could have copied only the first and last sentences and looked up the text in the next library, for instance, or even only memorised the chapter numbers. The fact that he needed to copy the whole text shows that he had stumbled upon something that had to be in full – probably private correspondence or suchlike.
The three possible culprits – the three students who live in the building – are now described. The third is Scottish and supposedly “wayward, dissipated, and unprincipled. He was nearly expelled over a card scandal in his first year.” Lord Alfred Douglas? Wilde’s (Scottish) lover?
Anyway, the story goes on, Holmes investigates, and at some point he starts joking with Watson: “What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get notice to quit and that I shall share your downfall — not, however, before we have solved the problem”. This is a truth veiled in a joke… The public fall from grace was a possibility.
Next morning we get some more indication that the matter concerns more than a simple scholarship: “The unfortunate tutor was certainly in a state of pitiable agitation when we found him in his chambers. […] He could hardly stand still, so great was his mental agitation, and he ran towards Holmes with two eager hands outstretched.” Slightly exaggerated for a scholarship, right? Right.
Holmes of course identifies the culprit, who fully repents and begs for forgiveness, which is granted, and he embarks to Rhodesia. This ties is nicely with the theme of people who are not “real” criminals going into exile that can be found throughout the story: the “culprit” flees.
Now comes Black Peter, also published in 1904. It starts with a few clues of exactly how Watson sees Holmes: “I have never known my friend to be in better form, both mental and physical, than in the year ‘95.” and “Holmes, however, like all great artists, lived for his art’s sake” (come on, sound even more like Oscar Wilde – oh, not possible, I understand…). He also calls the year “memorable”, which it must have been – Holmes and Watson spent a nice part of it most purposefully not in London, i.e. hiding somewhere.
The story is set in early July. Just as a reminder, Wilde lost his third trial against the Crown on May 25, and everybody involved who had not made his way to the country or continent yet or had returned like Holmes and Watson, did so then. Initially, Watson is at home in Baker Street, but Holmes is not: “my friend had been absent so often and so long from our lodgings”, which implies that even though Holmes has to be in London for some reasons, he does his best in order not to be available or even findable.
In itself the story is rather unremarkable, although it does contain blackmail, which is always a red blaring alert: the murderer kills his “victim” after said “victim” had assaulted him, but the murderer had only been there in the first place because he though that Black Peter “could afford to pay me well for keeping my mouth shut.” Now, this has probably no bearing on the story whatsoever, but I still think it is interesting to mention that these events the murderer is meant not to mention happened on a ship. In Victorian times, sea-life and especially the London docks had a certain…unsavoury reputation: mostly because they were the place you had most choice in rent boys.
The whole thing ends with this line from Holmes: “If you want me for the trial, my address and that of Watson will be somewhere in Norway – I’ll send particulars later.” Apart from the pun on the trial, this mostly shows that Holmes is taking the chance of leaving the country, apparently “for a case”, for a very long time – he had virtually no case-connected reason to go to Norway (he could have sent wires to clear up the loose strands, as he always does, and anyway Norway is not important for the case), but Norway is far enough from London to be safe, is it not? To put it in a nutshell, the case begins with Holmes hiding and ends with Holmes and Watson leaving the country on a trip that will mean that they will not be traceable for a while – Holmes’s detective friend (and he does like Hopkins) only gets a “promise for later”.
The Bruce-Partington Plans is the last story that is “officially” set in 1895. It was published in 1908.
Watson begins the narrative with a statement of the date: “in the third week of November, in the year 1895”, and goes on to clarify that he and Holmes have not left the flat for four days, asserting that this happened because of the “dense yellow fog”. Translation: it has been six months since Oscar Wilde’s trials, the waters have mostly calmed down, but it would still be unwise to be too noticeable to the outside world, and Holmes and Watson are hiding. Indeed, so much so that only Jupiter leaving his orbit (i.e. Brother Mycroft) can drag them out of Baker Street. This impression is reinforced by the association of the colour yellow with caution (http://www.colormatters.com/the-meanings-of-colors/yellow) – they simply cannot risk being overly visible, but are in Baker Street because everything else (given Holmes’s famous habits) would attract even more attention.
Because of the mental stagnation following from this “exile”, Holmes is bored and much annoyed although Watson attempts to interest him in a few cases mentioned on the papers, and yet again we see Holmes regretfully speculating about his possible life as a criminal himself: “Holmes snorted his contempt. “This great and sombre stage is set for something more worthy than that,” said he. “It is fortunate for this community that I am not a criminal.”” This is significant because it proves yet again that Holmes would not have any problem with being one and openly flouting the law. Only Watson’s moral integrity keeps him from that side.
Holmes then gets a telegram from Mycroft, and it is again stressed that Mycroft is very strongly connected with the Diogenes Club. Now, there has been much speculation whether the canon Diogenes Club is not, in fact, a gentlemen’s club. Sherlock’s stopping to go there regularly upon meeting the doctor points in that direction, but this is not the place for this discussion (The Greek Interpreter is much more focused on the Diogenes).
The telegram runs like this: “Must see you over Cadogan West. Coming at once. – Mycroft.” The first sentence is of extreme importance. It does not sound like Cadogan West was a name, more like code for something. But what could it mean? It took me a while to decipher it, but reading up Oscar Wilde’s trials (again) helped me along. In the course of the trials he was arrested while he was staying at the Cadogan Hotel, which was located in the West of London. This is huge because it clearly links the case, which is brought in by a person capable of manipulating the public order, with the scandal surrounding Wilde. Message: “we are not done yet, some things still have to be tidied up”. Here, it might also be interesting to note that the government originally wanted to hush the whole scandal surrounding him up, and not give him a prison sentence at all, but in the end the government had no choice but to accept the impending sentence because the public was set against Wilde very strongly.
There are a few references to discretion in the following paragraphs (“one has to be discreet”), and another emphasis on the fact that Mycroft must have an extremely valid reason for coming to Sherlock (probably because it is too delicate a matter for Mycroft): “Jupiter is descending to-day. What on earth can it mean?” (Holmes). He then continues wondering: “Who is Cadogan West, and what is he to Mycroft?” Holmes probably assumes Cadogan West is code for a person of some importance to Mycroft. Could Mycroft himself be in danger of getting tied up in a scandal?
Maybe not, but guess what this young man is believed to have done? He has stolen some secret papers from the army (can be read as “Mycroft” - even Holmes clearly says this: “Government employ. Behold the link with Brother Mycroft!”), ten pages in total, but when ends up with his head smashed in on the tram tracks, and only seven sheets in his pocket, which leaves three sheets of potentially dangerous content…somewhere Mycroft has no access to. So Mycroft needs Sherlock to bring those papers back. The claim that these ten sheets of paper are technical plans is nonsensical: the plans are supposed to enable the holder to build a Bruce-Partington submarine, which makes no sense at all given the technicality of a submarine. No, this is ridiculous and Mofftisson know it: the Bruce-Partington programme turn out to be completely inconsequential in S1E3. The only thing that this tells us is that somebody needed the original copies to achieve a certain goal. Well…
Now comes another clue: Cadogan West is engaged to a Miss Violet Westbury. This is the second Violet in a 1895 case, and as The Solitary Cyclist was published before The Bruce-Partington Plans, it can only be deduced that Watson recycled a name, hinting at the fact that most of this story is heavily…edited.
A few clues about the importance of the case and the nature of the “papers” follow, but it get really interesting only when the next names are mentioned: the clerk who had the keys to the safe is called Sidney Johnson. It must be remembered that Watson chooses his names with much care, and this name can be taken apart quite nicely: “Sidney” could very well refer to the Sidney Sussex College in Cambridge, which Dorothy L Sayers suggests as Holmes’s college (where, incidentally, he met Victor Trevor, who has been argued was Holmes’s first love interest), while “Johnson” may allude to the Lionel Johnson who introduced Oscar Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas (Bosie). (OK, this is a long shot. But.)
Holmes and Watson have to go out an investigate, even though the thick yellow fog remains, and find that a man responsible for the safety of the papers has died of broken heart, apparently: ““It was this horrible scandal,” said he. “My brother, Sir James, was a man of very sensitive honour, and he could not survive such an affair. […]” Taken out of context, this statement is so equivocal…
Watson is sent back home by Holmes, which gives birth to a few rather sweet sentences:
“I will do nothing serious without my trusted comrade and biographer at my elbow.”
“All the long November evening I waited, filled with impatience for his return.”
““I don’t like it, Holmes.“”
“My dear fellow, you shall keep watch in the street. I’ll do the criminal part. It’s not a time to stick at trifles. Think of Mycroft’s note, of the Admiralty, the Cabinet, the exalted person who waits for news. We are bound to go.”
My answer was to rise from the table.
“You are right, Holmes. We are bound to go.”
He sprang up and shook me by the hand.
“I knew you would not shrink at the last,” said he, and for a moment I saw something in his eyes which was nearer to tenderness than I had ever seen. The next instant he was his masterful, practical self once more.
“It is nearly half a mile, but there is no hurry. Let us walk,” said he. “Don’t drop the instruments, I beg. Your arrest as a suspicious character would be a most unfortunate complication.””
Holmes is actually joking about Watson’s “un-virtues” again…
In the spy’s flat they have just broken into they find the spy’s correspondence with a certain Pierrot, who is the one who stole the papers. Remember what I said about names; a poem published by Olive Custance, who married Lord Alfred Douglas in 1902, is called “Pierrot”.
Lestrade, who is clearly in on everything Holmes does, puns: “But some of these days you’ll go too far, and you’ll find yourself and your friend in trouble.”
The story ends with the whole spy part of the murder (obviously) hushed up, and the man who stole the papers – although partly redeemed by helping Holmes to get them back – dies after two years in prison. Wait. Who else’s death was directly caused by a prison sentence of two years? Oh, yes, Oscar’s.
Quite a lot about one scandal in four stories – makes you wonder why exactly Sir ACD did that…
Oh, Mofftisson, please include some of this in the Christmas Special!
dededos
dailybridgerton
baratheonpilled
kianamaiart
