Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, Volume 7

by Marvin Kaye

  Earlier still, and still popular today, were the adventures of Thomas Carnacki chronicled in Carnacki the Ghost Finder by William Hope Hodgson. Six stories appeared from 1910 to 1912 and were published as a book in 1913. In 1947, August Derleth published an expanded version, containing three additional stories, under his Mycroft and Moran imprint.

  The Carnacki stories, like much of Hodgson’s fiction, anticipated the ideas of H.P.Lovecraft by applying a scientific basis to supernatural events. They also perhaps influenced the Jules de Grandin stories in this sense. Thus Carnacki had to battle entities that came from outside of our normal time and space. He always carried a gun, a camera, and a clever device of his own invention called an electric pentacle. In each story, Carnacki would invite his four friends, Jessop, Arkwright, Taylor, and the viewpoint character, Dodgson, to his home and tell them of his latest adventure. At the end they would question him on various points and he would explain the case, often in terms of a quasi-scientific occult lore of Hodgson’s own invention. Thus he speaks of manifestations of such things as aeiirii and saiitii phenomema referred to in a Necronomicon-like book called the Sigsand Manuscript.

  Carnacki is occasionally credited as the being first psychic detective, but he was not. However, Carnacki, of all the psychic detectives, seems to have developed a following in more recent years. There was a BBC adaptation of one of the stories “The Horse of the Invisible” in the 70’s starring Donald Pleasance as part of their The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes series; the only supernatural entry. More recently, there have been Carnacki pastiches by other writers. A collection of them by A. F. Kidd and Rick Kennett was published by Ashtree Press: 472 Cheyne Walk—Carnacki: the Untold Stories (2002) Carnacki also appears as a character in The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. According to John Clute’s Encyclopedia of Fantasy (1997), the Carnacki stories were published by Eveleigh Nash to fill the niche left when Algernon Blackwood left off writing his John Silence stories. Carnacki’s predecessor, John Silence: Physician Extraordinary (1908), by Blackwood is also sometimes credited as the first psychic detective. While not the first, he is certainly the first well-known one.

  According to S.T. Joshi’s introduction to the 1997 edition, the book was given a massive promotion at the time with the slogan “John Silence—the most mysterious character of modern fiction,” and became a bestseller.

  The book was originally intended to be a collection of five unrelated tales, but Blackwood was requested by the publisher to tie them all together with a single protagonist, The tales involve supernatural problems explained in terms of what today might be called paranormal activity. His stories are generally narrated by his associate, Mr. Hubbard. Blackwood, like Dion Fortune and Sax Rohmer, was a member of the Order of the Golden Dawn.

  II

  As for the literary roots of the psychic detective, some authors cite Dr, Martin Hesselius, a character created by J. Sheridan Lefanu. as the first such character.

  Hesselius was probably inspired by an earlier series of stories by Samuel Warren, that ran in Blackwood’s Magazine (1831-1837) published in book form as Passages from the Diary of a Late Physician (1831). Warren’s book is a collection of short stories representing cases of the eponymous and anonymous physician. These stories for the most part do not concentrate on the supernatural and are more concerned with morality than horror. But they are likely the inspiration for Dr. Hesselius who is more of a prototype than an actual occult detective. He appears in the framework of LeFanu’s book, In a Glass Darkly (1872), to tie together the stories. The conceit is that the stories comprising the volume have been found among his papers after his death. Hesselius appears as a character in only one of the five stories in the collection, which also includes such classic tales as “Carmilla” and “Mr. Justice Harbottle.” He appears as a character only in the first story, “Green Tea.” in which a clergyman is haunted by a spectral monkey. It should be noted that the clergymen does not seek Hesselius out in his professional capacity as a doctor, They meet informally and Hesselius becomes interested in his case.

  Researcher Gary W. Crawford has pointed out the resemblance between that story and the story “The Spectral Dog” in Warren’s book. (LeFanu Studies 1:1 May 2006) In both stories the protagonist is a clergyman who is haunted by a phantom animal that follows him into a public conveyance. In Warren’s story, the dog is supposed to be a hallucination caused by unknown medical reasons, not a supernatural manifestation, whereas LeFanu’s monkey is a manifestation of evil.

  Other authors have cited Dr. Abraham van Helsing from Dracula (1897) as the first psychic detective. Like Hesselius, he is a physician with a knowledge of the occult, and like Hesselius he appears in only one story. He is called in to see Lucy Westerna because he is a physician and she is suffering from a mysterious illness which Dr. Seward cannot cope with alone. He is not called, at least initially, because of his knowledge of the occult.

  So neither Hesselius nor Van Helsing are series characters and neither are really detectives.

  The appearance of Sherlock Holmes, starting in 1887 in Beeton’s Christmas Annual, was enormously influential and created a mold for other writers to follow. There were no supernatural elements in any of the stories: Holmes once famously said “No ghosts need apply,” but many of the writers who followed in Doyle’s footsteps had no such reservations.

  L.T. Meade (Elizabeth Thomasina Meade Smith (1854—1914), created two series of Holmes-like detective stories. One series, written in collaboration with Clifford Halifax, Stories from the Diary of a Doctor (1894 & 1896) follows the investigations of a physican who deals with unusual cases, and finds natural explanations. The other series was written in collaboration with Robert Eustace, A Master of Mysteries (1898), which follows John Bell, another investigator who exposes apparent supernatural cases as hoaxes.

  All of these books may be seen as steps toward what we now think of as the psychic detective.

  However, the first example of a true psychic detective is Flaxman Low, created by Hesketh and Kate Prichard. Low is not a physician, but an expert on the occult and is the protagonist of a series of stories in which he is requested to investigate hauntings and other supernatural or apparently supernatural manifestations. It is here that a melding occurs between the horror story and the detective story.

  Although they represent a pioneering effort, these stories are not as well known as the later series influenced by them such as the John Silence and Carnacki stories. Lovecraft doesn’t mention them in his “Supernatural Horror in Literature,” and S.T. Joshi doesn’t mention them in his introduction to John Silence. Low is also not mentioned in Queen’s Quorum: A History of the Detective-Crime Short Story As Revealed by the 100 Most Important Books Published in this Field Since 1845–1951, although the Prichard’s non-supernatural sleuth character, November Joe, is and Thomas Carnacki is incorrectly listed as the first supernatural detective.

  Flaxman Low first appeared in a series of six stories in Pearson’s Magazine in 1898 followed by a second series of six in 1899. Each one ran under the heading “Real Ghost Stories” accompanied by a photograph of the haunted house in question. Each one was titled “The Story of [insert name of home].” All twelve stories were later collected as Ghosts: The Experiences of Flaxman Low (1899).

  Low is a student of what is termed in the stories “psychology,” although today we would call it parapsychology, and he has devoted a good deal of his life to studies of occult phenomena. It could be argued that the authors took the idea of an occult researcher such as Dr. Hesselius and recast it using the Holmes stories as a mold or template. Going L.T. Meade one better, most of these stories are genuinely supernatural.

  In the name of verisimilitude, the book is prefaced with an excerpt from a letter, addressed by Low, himself, to the authors in which he explains that he is the first in his field of inquiry to depart from the old conventional methods and to approach supernatural problems along the lines of natural law. He gives them freedom to write about his
adventures and asks only that his name be disguised.

  Flaxman Low is described as having a high forehead, long neck, and thin mustache.

  In the course of his investigations he does more than observe and deduce. On several occasions he risks his life in nearly fatal struggles with supernatural or biological entities

  The stories follow a pattern similar to those of Sherlock Holmes. In a typical story, Low is called upon to investigate a haunting. After his arrival he questions his client and listens as the client describes the strange phenomena that have been occurring. Low then proceeds to investigate the matter firsthand and makes his own observations.

  Finally he puts the apparently disparate clues together and explains the nature of the haunting. In some stories he solves the case by ending the haunting, and in others, he merely leaves things be. Over the course of the dozen stories, he deals with such occult manifestations as ghosts, vampires, and elementals, finding very unusual and deceptive clues to investigate. Just to keep things interesting, a couple of the stories have non-occult explanations. One involves a deadly form of plant life and another a dangerous form of fungus. One story turns out to be a case of homicide by a murderer with a rare type of poison. In the final two stories he crosses paths with the Moriarity of the series, a Dr. Kalmarkan, an occultist with an evil bent.

  There is no Watson character, but that role is often filled by the clients who listen with amazement as Low ties the clues together into a coherent solution.

  When the stories originally appeared in Pearson’s Magazine, they were bylined E. & H. Heron. When they appeared in book form a short time later in 1899 the pseudonyms were dropped and the real names of the authors, Hesketh and Kate Prichard, were credited.

  Hesketh Vernon Hesketh-Prichard (1876-1922) was an adventurer, big game hunter, cricketeer, and writer of travel books, among other things. He stood six foot four, or six foot six, depending on which source you consult, but in either case, he was a large man. Among his friends he counted J.M. Barrie and, significantly, Arthur Conan Doyle.

  His sometime collaborator, Kate Prichard, was not his wife, but his mother, and according to Jack Adrian, who wrote the introduction to the Ashtree Press edition of The Experiences of Flaxman Low (2003), he did most of the writing and Kate added a final polish to the stories.

  Hesketh Prichard died at the age of 45 of endocarditis most probably resulting from rheumatic fever.

  The Flaxman Low stories were not their most popular or well-known stories by any means. The team’s most popular creation was a series of stories and novels about Don Q, an aristocratic and anti-heroic Spanish criminal who specialized in kidnapping.

  Hesketh alone wrote the November Joe series, which featured a detective of the backwoods who solved crimes in a Holmesian fashion, but from such clues as would be found in a rustic environment like broken twigs and muddy footprints.

  But the stories remain obscure today. For all that they are atmospheric and have imaginative hauntings and clever solutions, Low himself remains a bit of a cipher. He is never really developed as a character. Jack Adrian speculates that the stories did not become well-known for another reason as well—the authors’s attempts at verisimilitude may have been too effective, and readers may have mistakenly thought they were actual accounts rather than fictional narratives.

  But if not their most popular character, Low may have ultimately been their most influential one.

  In the wake of the Low stories, there were imitators, including The Ghost Hunters (1905-1906) by Allen Upward and True Ghost Stories (1907) by Jessie Adelaide Middleton.

  These have fallen into complete obscurity. But the previously mentioned John Silence: Physician Extraordinary by Algernon Blackwood has become a classic in the genre. Silence, like Hesselius, is a physician, but like Low and his imitators, is a protagonist who as H.P. Lovecraft put it, “runs a triumphant course” through the series of stories. Like Low, he has a deep knowledge of the occult and has been termed a supernatural Sherlock Holmes.

  And it was Low by way of Silence who ultimately paved the way for a genre that is still with us today.

  CARTOON, by Andrew Toos

  THE DEAD HOUSE, by Bruce Kilstein

  My longtime friend, colleague and confidant, Dr John H Watson, has been both my chronicler and steadfast champion in his accounts of my, or I should say our, investigations into matters of crime and intrigue. I fear that his versions of events perhaps overstate my abilities and accomplishments to the reading public. I have, however, been remiss in paying him the proper tribute he has ably earned as my assistant. Many are the times that he has proved essential in the successful prosecution of an investigation. I pause here, years later, to relate my dear friend’s role in the events concerning Captain Sidney Emmet-Jones.

  It was spring of 18__ and Watson and I struggled to fend off the torpor of inactivity brought about by the seasonal rains that confined our bodies to our digs at 221B Baker Street and the lack of any stimulating work to unfetter our minds. Watson made the occasional trip to his surgery to tend to the odd patient while I tried to busy myself in the preparation of a monograph concerning the fascinating new science of fingerprinting. The theory being that the ridges and whorls on the pads of each person’s fingers are unique, I set about the task of attempting a system of classification unique to the criminal class. I soon wearied of the painstaking process and turned my attentions from the magnifying lens to the chemistry bench, for the purposes of maintaining a keen edge of observational power, to distill the essence of Erythroxylon truxillense in preparation of a seven percent solution.

  Watson had just come in from the rain followed by the angry shouts of our housekeeper admonishing him for tracking mud into the vestibule. “No sign of this bloody weather easing up, Holmes,” he said.

  I grunted little reply, too absorbed in my task.

  He approached and began his usual litany of disapproval of my present endeavour. I was spared the lecture and subsequent argument when something at the window diverted my attention. “Watson,” I interrupted, “what do you make of that woman getting out of the coach?”

  He approached the window and after a moment’s contemplation stated, “Hard to say, Holmes, as she is obscured by the umbrella. I should guess her to be of some advanced age, as she requires the aide of a cane and the assistance of her driver. Other than that, I cannot hazard much else. You, no doubt, would deduce much more from this scene.”

  “Quite,” I replied. “Observe her awkward way of coordinating the use of both umbrella and walking stick, which suggests a recent injury rather than a long term infirmity. Her dress is mourning, which would hint at a recent loss, but note the stylish cut of her robe even in time of bereavement. This is a younger woman of some means as we see that she has the best clothing, servants and a handsome coach and four. Note how her servants are attentive, but she graciously hesitates in accepting their assistance. This would suggest that those in her employ like her. A kind woman, I should think. Moreover she is left-handed as she favours the left for support of the body by the cane, has been feeling weak and eaten little the past few days, evidenced by the pallour of her cheek and slight tremour and hesitancy of her progress. She has, no doubt, suffered some recent shock and visits us for some assistance with a problem. We add the sum of these trifling observations with the obituary section of today’s Times and we must necessarily conclude that we are about to be visited by the widow of the late Captain Emmet-Jones.”

  “Astounding, Holmes!” Watson cried as we watched the subject of our deductions exit her ride and make her way to our door. “How do you do it?”

  I took pause, relishing the moment of anticipation before some matter of particular challenge and welcomed any chance to dispel the insidious boredom. “Elementary, my dear fellow.” I referred Watson to the brief account describing the strange death of Captain Sidney Emmet-Jones in the morning Times and rang for my housekeeper. She appeared immediately, apparently already on her way to my rooms to comp
lain about my partner’s effluvia in the foyer. I stopped her with a “Yes, of course we will be more careful, Mrs Hudson, but presently we are about to receive a very distraught young widow who deserves our hospitality. Please prepare tea and brandy and show her to our study immediately.” With the ring of the doorbell she was off to her task with no more mention of the Doctor’s indiscretion.

  “What do you make of this, Holmes?” Watson asked, turning from the paper.

  “We shall soon learn more details, but I suspect foul doings. We must tread lightly.”

  Barely had we time to stoke the fire and made a token attempt to make our surroundings presentable, each silently acknowledging Mrs Hudson’s observation that we ought to be tidier, when she returned to announce the subject of our speculation.

  “Are you Mr Sherlock Holmes?” asked the young lady, rather timidly.

  “At your service. Allow me to introduce my colleague, Dr Watson. Watson, Mrs Emmet-Jones.”

  “How is it you already know my name?” the woman gasped in surprise. “Have we previously made acquaintance?”

  “No, my dear, but had we, the pleasure would indeed have been mine. I surmised your identity after reading the account in the morning paper. But you are cold. Won’t you take a seat by the warm fire and partake of a refreshment?” Watson helped her to a chair and poured her a restorative draught, which she willingly accepted, while I filled a fresh pipe.

  After she had time to settle, I said, “Pray, tell us your concerns. Leave nothing out. You may speak freely before Dr Watson.”

  “Thank you, Mr Holmes. The police do not seem to be of much help and I have no one else to whom I can turn for advice in this matter. The papers did not tell half the story.” She paused and sipped her drink. Staring at the fire, she continued. “I had been wed to my husband just six months after his return from military service in South Africa. He having no relations, we came to live with my father at Dunmore, our family estate in Surrey. At all times he seemed in the most robust of health. He had no immediate complaints of illness in the time just prior to the day we found him on the floor of his study. As you can imagine, we were all quite shocked. Hardly had we time to grasp the sudden gravity of the situation, when the Doctor arrived and pronounced the situation contagious and ordered an immediate internment. Something about a fever brought from Africa. We were naturally confused, but of course agreed.”