Without My Boswell: Five Early Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (From the Dispatch Box of John H Watson, MD)

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Without My Boswell: Five Early Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (From the Dispatch Box of John H Watson, MD) Page 11

by Hugh Ashton


  “ Lestrade discharged Ricoletti, whom I never saw again. I heard that he had taken his own life out of despair at the events that had taken place around him. At any event, his clothes were found on the Embankment early one morning, and it was assumed he had drowned himself in the Thames.”

  “ A sad tale, then,” I said to my friend. “ You saved a man from the gallows, where he would undoubtedly have ended had it not been for you, and yet he took his own life.”

  “ That is so, Watson. Indeed, when I heard of his supposed death, I very nearly gave up the profession I had chosen for myself. What use was I to Society, I asked myself, if all I could achieve was a result of this kind ? It took several other cases before I could fully persuade myself that my chosen path was in truth of value to others.” Sherlock Holmes sat silently in thought for a full five minutes, and suddenly brightened. “ But come, less of this melancholy talk. Let us amuse ourselves by considering in advance the menu of our first meal in the land of the gastronome.”

  The Adventure Of The Two Bottles

  “I could not help but remark that the children ran to her arms as readily as they did to those of their aunt, and her attitude towards them was all that any observer of the domestic scene could wish to encounter.”

  Editor’s Notes

  As Watson notes in The Sign of the Four, Holmes made men- tion of this case in connection with Miss Mary Morstan, giving some details. In “ The Musgrave Ritual”, he likewise talks about some early cases, and mentions that “during my last years at the university there was a good deal of talk there about myself and my methods”. It seems that the affair of the Gloria Scott was not the only case which the young Holmes handled in his student days, but for some reason, Watson chose not to pass this account on to his agent, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

  Even so, the case is of considerable interest. It shows the way in which the younger Holmes developed his powers and his techniques of deduction. It also shows a young man more than a little over- powered by the unfamiliar proximity of an attractive woman – a state which we cannot imagine as being one that was often as- sumed by the mature Holmes. Perhaps it is this last that led Wat- son to keep it hidden in the dispatch-box. He gave it no title, so I have taken the liberty of naming it “The Adventure of the Two Bottles”.

  -o-

  I have frequently mentioned in my accounts of the adventures of Mr. Sherlock Holmes that he was reticent in the extreme about his early life. From time to time he would drop hints about adventures and cases before my acquaintance with him, and I have recounted the details of some of them as he told them to me.

  I remember one occasion, though on which he remarked that “the most winning woman I ever knew was hanged for poisoning three little children for their insurance-money”. Since it was rare for him to use such terms as “winning” in connection with the fair sex, this remark caused some sparks of curiosity to smoulder within my breast. At that time, they did little more than smoulder, as to be sure, at that time thoughts of my dear Mary occupied my mind to the exclusion of little else save the immediate solution of the case which occupied Sherlock Holmes and myself. However, these words of his remained in my mind for some years and one day, on our return from a case in the country – this was the case at King’s Pyland involving the race- horse Silver Blaze – I brought up the subject. We were sitting alone in our first-class compartment, and the wild countryside of Dartmoor had long since been left behind. I had foolishly neglected to procure any reading matter at the station, and Holmes likewise appeared to be somewhat at a loss for mental stimulation, as was frequently the case following the successful resolution of a problem.

  “ ‘ Pon my soul, Watson, I would never have expected you to remember that remark of mine that I tossed off so casually so long ago,” he exclaimed in answer to my query. “ Bravo, my dear chap, bravo indeed. I take it you are all agog to hear the story ? ”

  I readily assented, and Holmes began to tell his tale. “ It was while I was a student at University*. I had already begun to develop my powers of observation and the faculty of reasoning and drawing deductions from my observations, as I think I have mentioned to you before now. It made of me, as you may well imagine, somewhat of a curiosity among my fellows, and they were continually setting little tests for me, making wagers among themselves as to whether I could solve the problems they set before me.

  * Editor’s note : Watson never gives the name of the university that Holmes attended. We may be certain that he knew, but for some reason declined to acquaint his readers with the knowledge. My personal opinion is that Holmes attended Trinity College, Dublin, and my reasons are given in a short paper entitled “ Was Sherlock Holmes a Catholic ? ” published in the Baker Street Journal (Vol. 63, No.2, Summer 2013)

  “ In this way, I gained much knowledge and practice through constant and varied exercise of my talents, which would otherwise have cost me many years of everyday experience. I may say with all due modesty that the odds laid against me – that is to say, against my failure to deliver a satisfactory solution – lengthened by the month.

  On one day, I was studying, when there was a knock on the door of my rooms, and a student of the same year as I entered. O’Donnell, for that was his name, had a worried expression on his face, and I begged him to sit and com- pose himself before he spoke. He obeyed, and sat with his head in his hands for a good ten minutes before he raised his face and looked me in the eye.”

  “ You were more patient than I at that age,” I laughed. “ Why, I cannot imagine sitting in silence with a fellow-student of mine for more than a minute or two at the most.”

  “ Nonetheless, as I have remarked in the past, Watson, you now have now developed the great gift of silence and calm about you, which is so often a balm to a spirit such as mine. At the time I am describing, I was naturally – nay, I am still – an active restless soul. I was endeavouring to discipline myself into habits of peace and tranquillity, especially when confronted with those in a state of agitation. I find that this often inspires confidence, and encourages my supplicants to speak more freely than would otherwise be the case. After our long unspoken communion, if I may put it in those terms, O’Donnell spoke to me.

  “ ‘ Holmes, the whole College is well aware of your abilities in that strange field you have named as deduction. My question to you now is whether you are as discreet as you are astute.’”

  “ What a singularly offensive question ! ” I exclaimed. “ I wonder you did not send him away immediately.”

  “ Not as offensive as you might imagine,” replied Holmes. “ I confess to having made somewhat of a spectacle of myself in the College, in the hope that this would bring forth further challenges on which I might sharpen my wits, and I dare say that I had something of a reputation as a braggart. However, I had determined that were to exercise these talents for the benefit of others, I would do so with discretion, and would follow a code of conduct similar to that of a lawyer, or a doctor. I therefore provided O’Donnell with the assurance that he required.

  “ He thanked me, and began his tale. ‘ It is my stepmother,’ he told me. ‘ My father has recently married again, following the death of my mother some two years ago. I have three younger siblings, two sisters and a brother, much younger than myself, aged eight, seven and five. Recently, my father’s new wife, who is only a little older than I, seems to have set herself up against my aunt, my mother’s sister.’

  “ ‘ In what way has she set herself up ? ’ I asked.

  “ ‘ One example I can give you, which occurred only a few days ago when I returned to my father’s home in County Clare. My sisters and brother were in the nursery. I happened to come out of my room into the passage that leads to the nursery, just as my aunt was passing along on her way to the children. I watched as she knocked on the nursery door, which opened, and to my surprise I saw my stepmother, rather than the nursery-maid I had expected, framed in the entrance. She and my aunt exchanged words in low voices which I was unable to hear
clearly, and was unable to make out any words spoken. What happened next utterly astonished me. My stepmother pushed vigorously with both hands against my aunt’s chest, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground.

  “ ‘ I was in two minds as to whether to come to her res- cue, and thereby face my stepmother’s possible wrath, or whether to ignore the whole incident. Discretion formed the better part of valour, and I quietly closed the door of my room and determined to forget the incident.

  “ ‘ As you can imagine, though, it was hard for me to forget what I had seen, and on my return to College, I determined to seek advice. You, Holmes, must help me to find out what is going on in that house.’

  “ ‘ Very well,’ I told him. ‘ But you must answer a few questions for me. I have as yet insufficient data on which I can base any kind of assumptions, let alone reach conclusions. Firstly, how old is your aunt ? The same age as your stepmother ? ’ You may remark here, Watson, how I was slowly learning the business of collecting the facts of the case before attempting to bring reason to bear.”

  “ I had noted that,” I smiled.

  “ In any event, I elicited the following : the new Mrs. O’Donnell was approximately the same age as my friend, perhaps one or two years older, but no more than that, while Miss O’Donnell, the older sister of his father, was some twenty-five years older. She lodged with her brother and his family, having never married, and in the interval between my friend’s mother’s death and his father’s remarriage had charge of the children, including my friend.

  “ ‘ And the relations between her and the children ? ’ I asked him.

  “ ‘ Excellent,’ he replied without hesitation. ‘ I confess that as a younger man on the verge of maturity (as I saw myself two years ago), I had those disagreements and fallings-out that are common between generations, but she was kindness itself, and any supposed curbs on my freedom were made from a position of concern for my well-being. As for my younger brother and sisters, they quite frankly adored her. She always seemed to have time and a kind word for them.’

  “ ‘ And your stepmother ? ’ I asked. ‘ Is she the wicked stepmother of legend ? ’

  “ ‘ By no means,’ he said, smiling. ‘ She loves those children as if they were her own. Indeed, I may safely say that she spends more time with them, and appears more deeply attached to them, than my mother when she was alive, if it does not appear too disrespectful to her memory to say so. She was an invalid for the last few years of her life, her constitution having been damaged by her last confinement, and was bed-ridden for much of the time.’

  “ ‘ And at that time, your aunt assumed her place in the children’s to a greater or less degree ? ’

  “ ‘ That is so.’

  “ ‘ Then,’ I told him, with all the pomposity and self-assurance of an over-confident young man, ‘ the reason for the altercation that you witnessed is simple. It is jealousy, and the two women battle, as women do, for the affection of the children.’ I see you smiling, Watson, at my glib and overly simple explanation.”

  “ I apologise, Holmes.”

  “ No need, my dear fellow. Indeed, I smile myself at the callow and over-serious young man that I was then. My friend was of the same opinion as you, and smiled sadly. ‘ If it were that simple a matter, Holmes, I would not have consulted you on the matter. There is much more to this than I have told you. The incident I have just described is but one in a series of somewhat distressing events that have left me sorely perplexed. Only three weeks ago, my sisters and my brother fell ill. Our family physician was unable to ascribe any definite cause to the malady, but gave it as his opinion that the bad air from the nearby bog had caused some sort of weakness in the children’s lungs. Though this seemed unlikely to me, I held my peace – I am no expert in medical matters, after all. What was singular, though, was the relationship between my aunt and my stepmother. My aunt devoted herself to the care of the children for three consecutive days and nights, and my stepmother never entered the nursery all that time. Only following specific requests from my father did she provide assistance to my brother and sisters, by which time my aunt was in a state of almost total collapse from exhaustion. I am sadly disturbed that my stepmother was not willing to assist my aunt in the nursing duties, given that she claims to be devoted to the children.’

  “ ‘ Then what you described earlier is doubtless no more than a matter of retaliation on your stepmother’s part for what she perceives as a slight and a dereliction of duty,’ I retorted. ‘ My original thesis still stands. There is no more to this than a struggle over the children’s affection.’

  “ ‘ Be that as it may,’ he replied. ‘ I came with an invitation to spend a few days as a guest with us, so that you may see for yourself the state of affairs, and to observe the characters of the principals.’

  “ ‘ Very well,’ I told him, nothing loath to this proposal. The study on which I was engaged was not to my taste, and there was little or no urgency involved. We agreed a date on which I should visit Dunsany House, the family home.”

  I smiled to myself at Holmes’ description of his academic labours, knowing as I did his somewhat extraordinary depth of understanding in various fields of human study, coupled with what I can only describe as an abysmal lack of knowledge in so many others, as I have described elsewhere.

  “ Accordingly,” Holmes continued, “ we set out on the appointed day. As always in that part of the world, the weather was grey and damp, and it was a pair of cold, rather wet, and somewhat dejected young men who rang the bell at the front door of Dunsany House†.

  † Editor’s note : This mention of the weather, and the fact that no mention is made of a sea voyage to a location in Ireland adds further support to my belief that Sherlock Holmes’ university education took place at Trinity College, Dublin.

  “ Once inside, we were treated to a warm welcome. It was obvious that whatever the relations between my friend’s aunt and his stepmother, an enviably close feeling existed between the other members of the family. The warmth with which the son was received was extended to his guest, and before long I almost felt myself to be one of the family, dressed in dry clothes, and taking my ease before a roaring fire, a glass of the local whiskey beside me.

  “ The young children were charming young things – You wished to say something, Watson ? ”

  “ It is nothing, Holmes. It is simply that it is the first time I have ever heard you describe young children as being ‘ charming’.”

  “ I am not quite the inhuman calculating machine that on occasion you have accused me of being,” he said, with a smile. “ Though as you are well aware, marriage and a family are not for me, it does not mean that I am unable to appreciate those of others, and it was a positive pleasure to be in what appeared to be such a congenial family atmosphere. It was hard for me to reconcile what I had been told by O’Donnell with what I was experiencing.”

  “ And what did you observe about the aunt and the step- mother ? ” I could not help but ask.

  “ All in good time, Watson. Let me first describe the other principals in the case. You see,” and his eyes twinkled, “ I am not averse to adopting some of the dramatic methods that you adopt when you recount our little adventures. My fellow-student first, Kevin O’Donnell. A pleas- ant enough fellow, and we knew each other slightly from a common interest in fencing. My weapon is the foil, as you know, and his was the sabre, so we rarely faced each other on the piste, but we were on more than merely nodding terms. His father was typical of his class – a man of more heart than brain, I would have to say, but conscious of the duties that were incumbent upon one of his estate, and mindful of his tenants’ needs.

  “ The children I just described as being charming, and that word is one which fits them well. They were almost unnaturally quiet during the time in the room with us, a state which I ascribed to the unknown illness that they had recently suffered. In my experience, children of that age typically exhibit more curiosity, and are of a more boisterous nat
ure than were these. However, they all, with a solemnity that was almost comical, approached me and made a bow or a curtsey, according to sex, and introduced themselves. Daisy, the eldest, with an enchanting little smile, Mary, the next, was grave and sober in her introduction, as was Dermot, the little boy.

  And now to the two principals in the case, as I had already begun to think of them. First, the aunt. She was most unprepossessing in appearance, being afflicted with a severe torticollis, or wryneck, and also with a squint. However, once these disabilities had been overlooked, there was nothing but kindness in the face, and also in the words and voice with which she welcomed me as a friend of her nephew. It was clear, that as O’Donnell had told me, she was adored by the children. However, their affections were obviously divided. The stepmother struck me at first glance as being little better than some of the women one sees around Piccadilly of an evening. Young, as I had been told, and undeniably possessed of a particular form of attractiveness, she was dressed in a provocative fashion that left few of her charms to the imagination. She formed a striking contrast to the aunt, who was clad in a sombre and sober style. I lack your skill in the description of female attire, Watson, so I will content myself with this meagre account.

  “ Even before she had opened her mouth, I confess that I had prejudged the woman as a vulgar fortune-hunter. Her first words of welcome to me acted to dispel that impression. The voice was low and cultured, and the words were carefully chosen to put me at my ease. You must remember that my hostess was a mere two or three years older than I, and my experience with the female sex to that date had been largely confined to the members of my family. In any event, it was a novel, thrilling, and somewhat unnerving experience for me to be confronted by this apparition. I confess to not being totally unmoved by her attentions, and by the way that she placed herself close to me when she addressed me. My unease was further accentuated by her heady perfume which swam in my nostrils.

 

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