Sherlock Holmes Edwardian Parodies and Pastiches II
Page 1
Welcome to 223B Baker Street
The debut of Sherlock Holmes in the pages of The Strand magazine introduced one of fiction’s most memorable heroes. Arthur Conan Doyle’s spellbinding tales of mystery and detection and Holmes’ deep friendship with Dr. Watson touched the hearts of fans worldwide, inspiring imitations, parodies, songs, art, even erotica, that continue to be produced and avidly enjoyed today.
Sherlock Holmes Edwardian Parodies and Pastiches II: 1905-1909 collects 40 pieces published during the middle phase of Conan Doyle’s life. Some were written by schoolboys, reporters, doctors, and other amateurs, but many professional writers turned out stories, such as “Banjo” Paterson, Max Beerbohm, Lincoln Steffens, Jacques Futrelle, Maurice Leblanc, and “Charlie Chan” creator Earl Derr Biggers.
We’ve also included the stories’ original art and over 270 footnotes identifying obscure words, historical figures, and events that readers were familiar with then but are forgotten today.
Peschel Press’ 223B Casebook Series—named because they’re “next door” to the original stories—is dedicated to publishing the fanfiction created by amateur and professional writers during Conan Doyle’s lifetime.
Edited By Bill Peschel
Peschel Press ~ Hershey, Pa.
Table of Contents
Cover
Welcome to 223B Baker Street
Title Page
Introduction
How the Book Was Organized
Acknowledgements
1905
Arthur Conan Doyle’s Life to Date
The Unmasking of Sherlock Holmes / Arthur Chapman
The Last of Sherlock Holmes / A.B. “Banjo” Paterson
Sherlock Holmes’ Daughter / H.H. Ballard
At the St. James’s Theatre / Max Beerbohm
Mr. Dooley Discusses College Athletics / Earl Derr Biggers
The Mystery of the Missing Man / Anonymous
The Return of Padlock Bones / “Not by Conan A. Doyle, Sir.”
The Questionable Parentage of Basil Grant / “R. Bostoun Cromer” (D.K. Broster and M. Croom Brown)
The Adventure of the Society Dame / Nathan M. Adams
The Succored Beauty / William B. Kahn
The Great Suit Case Mystery / Jacques Futrelle
Moriarty’s Return / T. Arnold Johnston
The Missing Golf Balls / Wex Jones
The Humility of Holmes / Frank Richardson
Sherlock Holmes / Harry Graham
The Adventure of the Diamond Necklace / George F. Forrest
The Land of the Wonderful Co / Walter Kayess
1906
Arthur Conan Doyle’s Life to Date
Sherlock Holmes Umpires Baseball / Anonymous
A Hitherto Unrecorded Conversation Between Dr. Watson and Mr. Herlock Sholmes / S.T. Ewart
Lord Sheffield’s Mascot: An Australian Adventure of Sherlock Holmes / A.R.B.
The Adventure of the Dorrington Ruby Seal / John Kendrick Bangs
The Asbestos Society of Sinners / Lawrence Daniel Fogg
1907
Arthur Conan Doyle’s Life to Date
A Sherlock Holmes Understudy / Samuel Hopkins Adams
Sheerluck Jones, or The Encyclopaedia Britannica / E.S. Blair
How Sherlock Holmes Caught Raffles / Maurice Smiley
Sherlock Holmes, Witness / Donald R. Richberg
Hurlock Shoams—One of His Adventures / “Sir Arthur Cannon Ball”
A Notable Interlude / Bernard E.J. Capes
Sherlock Holmes in Russia / Maurice Baring
The Great Detective Who Unearthed Things / Frank E. Kellogg
1908
Arthur Conan Doyle’s Life to Date
A Pragmatic Enigma / “A. Conan Watson, M.D.” (John Kendrick Bangs)
By His Left Eyelashes / Anonymous
Mickey Sweeney, Detective of Detectives / Lincoln Steffens
Ballade of Baker Street / Carolyn Wells
By a Hair / Jean Giraudoux
Sherlock Holmes in Perth: The Case of the Straw-Street Boarding-House / “Watson’s Under-study”
The Weirdly Thrilling Adventure of the Lost Bathing Suit / L.C. Hopkins
Holmlock Shears Opens Hostilities / Maurice Leblanc
1909
Arthur Conan Doyle’s Life to Date
Mr. Sherlock Holmes in the Case of the Drugged Golfers / Bertram Atkey
The Coming Back of Shedlock Combs / “Woctor Dotson”
When I Grow Up / W.W. Denslow
Bibliography
Footnotes
About the Editor
Copyright Page
Introduction
Welcome back to the latest volume of the 223B Casebook series. This time, our time machine lands us in the second half of the Edwardian era, that in-between period when the shadows from the Victorian era were fading, replaced with the modernity that will bloom after World War I.
Conan Doyle was transitioning as well. He had finished his latest collection of Holmes stories that would be published as The Return of Sherlock Holmes. Over the next 25 years, he’ll write the last 20 stories and The Valley of Fear. During the period covered by this volume, he’ll mourn the passing of his wife and celebrate his new marriage and family, engage in public causes as varied as championing the innocence of convicted men and testifying for daylight saving time, and even get in a little writing.
While his creator stayed home, Holmes continued to roam the world. In this volume, we’ll see him in Boston solving a gruesome murder case while it was still being investigated (“The Great Suit Case Mystery”), on a baseball field in Seattle (“Sherlock Holmes Umpires Baseball”), in Russia searching for a stolen score pad (“Sherlock Holmes in Russia”), and in Paris discerning the meaning of a blonde hair on a friend’s coat (“By a Hair”) and meeting one of his greatest adversaries (“Holmlock Shears Opens Hostilities”). He’ll be portrayed by writers as varied as humorist John Kendrick Bangs, muckraker Lincoln Steffens, drama critic Max Beerbohm, and Australian journalist “Banjo” Paterson.
But no matter where he is and in whose hands, he remained indisputably Holmes.
Bill Peschel
Hershey, Pa.
Jan. 4, 2016
How the Book Was Organized
The 223B Casebook Series had two goals: To reprint the majority of the parodies and pastiches published in Conan Doyle’s lifetime, especially rare and newly discovered stories, and collections on a subject such as The Early Punch Parodies of Sherlock Holmes.
The stories appear in the order in which readers of the time would have seen them. This way, readers can see how writers changed their perception of Sherlock as the canonical stories were published. Stories for which dates could not be found, such as those published in books, were moved to the end of the year.
Each chapter begins with a description of Conan Doyle’s activities that year. I tried to keep the essays self-contained, but some events, such as Conan Doyle’s longtime relationship with Jean Leckie, span years and will be covered as complete as possible without falling into the boredom of repetition.
The stories were reprinted as accurately as possible. No attempt was made to standardize British and American spelling. Some words have undergone changes over the years—“Shakespere” instead of “Shakespeare” and “to-morrow” for “tomorrow”—they were left alone. Obvious mistakes of spelling and grammar were silently corrected and paragraphs were broken up to aid readability.
Acknowledgements
Every effort was made to determine the copyright status of these pieces and obtain permission to publish from the rightful copyright ho
lders. If I have made a mistake, please contact me so that I may rectify the error.
Many people helped make this series more and better than I could have done alone. Research assistant Scott Harkless provided several rare and critical stories. Denise Phillips at the Hershey Public Library worked hard to acquire the books and articles I asked for. Peter Blau generously shared the fruits of his researches. Charles Press provided me with a shopping list from his Parodies and Pastiches Buzzing ‘Round Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and generously filled in the gaps with extremely rare items from his researches.
Then there are the writers whose books pointed the way: Bill Blackbeard for Sherlock Holmes in America; Frederic Dannay and Manfred Lee (“Ellery Queen”) for their ill-fated The Misadventures of Sherlock Holmes; Philip K. Jones for his massive (10,000 entries!) database of Sherlockian pastiches, parodies and related fiction; John Gibson and Richard Lancelyn Green for My Evening With Sherlock Holmes and The Uncollected Sherlock Holmes; Paul D. Herbert for The Sincerest Form of Flattery; Peter Ridgway Watt and Joseph Green for The Alternative Sherlock Holmes: Pastiches, Parodies and Copies; The Sciolist Press, Donald K. Pollock, and the other editors behind The Baker Street Miscellanea.
By digitizing their nation’s newspapers and making them searchable, The National Library of Australia enabled me to find previously unknown parodies and research their local references so we can appreciate what was going on in New South Wales, Mudgee, and Perth.
The Baker Street Irregulars receives my particular thanks for their permission to publish Kai-Ho Mah’s translation of “By A Hair.”
In addition, two readers stepped forward to contribute stories that they discovered: Ian Schoenherr for “Sherlock Holmes, Witness”; and Jeff Katz for providing “Mr. Dooley Discusses College Athletics,” “Mickey Sweeney, Detective of Detectives,” and “The Coming Back of Shedlock Combs.” My gratitude to them is boundless and joyous.
Finally, my gratitude and love to my wife, Teresa, who unsheathed her red pen and decorated the manuscript with corrections, advice, and suggestions.
Got parody? If you have an uncollected Sherlock Holmes story that was published between 1888 and 1930, please let me know the title and author. If I don’t have it and can use it, you’ll earn a free trade paperback of the book it’ll appear in plus an acknowledgement inside! Email me at peschel@peschelpress.com or write to Peschel Press, P.O. Box 132, Hershey, PA 17033-0132.
Get the newsletter: If you want to learn more about my books, my researches and the media I eat, sign up for the Peschel Press newsletter. Every month, you’ll get a chatty letter about what we’re publishing plus a glimpse behind the scenes at a growing publishing house. Visit either www.planetpeschel.com or www.peschelpress.com and look for the sign-up box.
1905
Illustration for magazine article on Conan Doyle’s career, 1905.
“I am tired of Sherlock Holmes,” Arthur Conan Doyle told an interviewer, and he had good reason. He had killed his creation in 1893, but in the last few years recast his stories for the stage when he needed money, wrote a backdated novella, and just finished 13 stories that resurrected him from a watery grave. The money was fabulous; the criticism that the stories were not up to snuff, from the public and his editor at The Strand, was not.
In the meantime, Conan Doyle’s life revolved around sports, socializing, family (daughter Mary was 17 and son Kingsley 13) and concern for his wife’s slowly declining health. It had been 12 years since Louise had been diagnosed with tuberculosis. To restore her health, he had taken her for long stays to Switzerland and Egypt and built for her a home in Hindhead. Her early death was inevitable, and he resolved not to cause her any discomfort. This included keeping from her the knowledge of his platonic relationship with Jean Leckie, now entering its eighth year. But the strain of keeping up appearances would throw him into deep depressions.
The cure for that, he knew, was activity. He had agreed to run for Parliament again, this time for a seat representing Scotland’s Border Burghs. This meant frequent visits during the year to the three towns of Galashiels, Selkirk, and Hawick. He made five trips in all, campaigning against free trade outside the Empire before raucous crowds that delighted in baiting him. He grew skilled in countering, he wrote in his memoirs, “senseless trick questions from mischievous and irresponsible persons.” When one heckler asked how he could believe in punishing nations with high tariffs and the Sermon on the Mount, Conan Doyle shot back, “Have you sold all and given to the poor?” The resulting laughter at the man, notorious for his miserly ways, drove him from the hall. In the meantime, the incumbent refused to campaign, leaving it to his surrogates, further frustrating Conan Doyle.
One example of Conan Doyle’s energy and range of interests can be found in his schedule for April. He started the month campaigning in the Border Burghs and paused in Edinburgh to accept an honorary Doctor of Laws degree from his alma mater. Returning to Hindhead, he won a road trial in his Wolseley. Four days later, he joined his fellow members of the Crimes Club to tour Jack the Ripper sites in London’s Whitechapel area.
During the summer, Conan Doyle returned to 14th century England to work on Sir Nigel, the prequel to The White Company. He wrote quickly, finishing in November, a month before the opening chapters appeared in The Strand. His work was interrupted briefly in August when he appeared in a Kent courtroom. He had been caught speeding in Folkestone—26 mph, which one newspaper termed “motor scorching”—and was fined £10 plus 9 shillings court costs. What most annoyed Conan Doyle was not the fine, but the judge’s scolding that “unless I were mulct [fined] I would no doubt kill several people—I, who have never hurt nor frightened a soul in three years’ constant driving.” He must have temporarily forgot Innes, who was thrown from the car when he crashed into the Undershaw gatepost, and the Ma’am, who was with him when he struck a cartload of turnips.
The year ended with shadows gathering around the family. In October, he visited Westminster Abbey for the funeral for Sir Henry Irving. The actor-manager had created Conan Doyle’s first stage success with his one-act play Waterloo. Then on Christmas Day, Louise’s mother died at 79. She bore her loss calmly, a family member wrote, because she “accepted God’s will so completely that it gave her a certain soft radiance, and an ability to smile where others might have cried.” By this time, she was weak, able to go out but could only speak in a whisper. The end was near.
Publications: The Return of Sherlock Holmes (Feb.); Other: The Fiscal Question (April).
The Unmasking of Sherlock Holmes
Arthur Chapman
“So please grip this fact with your cerebral tentacle, / The doll and its maker are never identical.” So wrote Arthur Conan Doyle in 1912 in a poetic rebuttal to a critic’s accusations that he borrowed heavily from Poe only to have Holmes dismiss his detective-hero Dupin as “very inferior.”
We know that Doyle admired Poe, because he admitted it regularly and in public. To an American reporter’s question about whether he had been influenced by Poe he replied, “immensely!” He wrote later: “If every man who receives a cheque for a story which owes its springs to Poe were to pay a tithe to a monument for the master; he would have a pyramid as big as that of Cheops.”
Nevertheless, those who could not distinguish between the theft of words—the definition of plagiarism—and using other’s works as a springboard for new works were fond of bashing Holmes, such as this example from the February issue of The Critic. Arthur Chapman (1873-1935) was a newspaper columnist and cowboy poet whose most notable work is Out Where the West Begins.
In all my career as Boswell to the Johnson of Sherlock Holmes, I have seen the great detective agitated only once. We had been quietly smoking and talking over the theory of thumbprints, when the landlady brought in a little square of pasteboard at which Holmes glanced casually and then let drop on the floor. I picked up the card, and as I did so I saw that Holmes was trembling, evidently too agitated either to tell the landlady to show the visitor in
or to send him away. On the card I read the name:
Monsieur C. Auguste Dupin,
Paris.
While I was wondering what there could be in that name to strike terror to the heart of Sherlock Holmes, M. Dupin himself entered the room. He was a young man, slight of build and unmistakably French of feature. He bowed as he stood in the doorway, but I observed that Sherlock Holmes was too amazed or too frightened to return the bow. My idol stood in the middle of the room, looking at the little Frenchman on the threshold as if M. Dupin had been a ghost. Finally, pulling himself together with an effort, Sherlock Holmes motioned the visitor to a seat, and, as M. Dupin sunk into the chair, my friend tumbled into another and wiped his brow feverishly.
“Pardon my unceremonious entrance, Mr. Holmes,” said the visitor, drawing out a meerschaum pipe, filling it, and then smoking in long, deliberate puffs. “I was afraid, however, that you would not care to see me, so I came in before you had an opportunity of telling your landlady to send me away.”
To my surprise Sherlock Holmes did not annihilate the man with one of those keen, searching glances for which he has become famous in literature and the drama. Instead he continued to mop his brow and finally mumbled, weakly:
“But—but—I thought y-y-you were dead, M. Dupin.”
“And people thought you were dead, too, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said the visitor, in his high, deliberate voice. “But if you can be brought to life after being hurled from a cliff in the Alps, why can’t I come out of a respectable grave just to have a chat with you? You know my originator, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe, was very fond of bringing people out of their graves.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll admit that I have read that fellow, Poe,” said Sherlock Holmes testily. “Clever writer in some things. Some of his detective stories about you are not half bad, either.”