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When he entered his second year at Hodder he settled into the rigorous academic routine, but to his delight the ‘rough boy’ from Edinburgh also began to excel in sports. ‘I could hold my own both in brain and in strength with my comrades,’ he later recalled. Cricket became a consuming passion for the rest of his life, and he played many other sports also. Although he felt the separation from his family keenly, he was grateful for the encouragement he received from some of his masters. ‘I was fortunate,’ he recalled, ‘to get under the care of a kindly principal, one Father Cassidy, who was more human than Jesuits usually are.’
As Christmas approached at the end of 1868 he was among the boys who remained at school under the staff’s care. Why is not spelled out, though he was not the only boy to spend Christmas holidays at school, and it was most likely due to the expense of travel. He wrote home eagerly anticipating a package of food that would sustain him through the several holiday weeks. His first communion in May was a landmark.
to Mary Doyle HODDER HOUSE, DECEMBER 13, 1868
I did very well this term I was Distinguished and any boy that gets Distinguished 3 times during the year gets what is called the good-day they can do what they like they fish they hunt they bath they go walks they do what they like for a prize I have got these marks 55 for arithmetic I am not sure what I got for the examen but I think I got about 100 For compositions 359 for this term so that im in a pretty fair way for a prize I send you my compositions just to let you see how Im getting on at christmas we get into company’s of 3 or 5 and each boy gives a little of his christmas box to his neighbour and the neighbour gives him a bit of his I have got three in my company Remember mama to send my box to red Lions inn* on the twenty third I hope tots is getting on nicely and has Coney got her first tooth that tooth seems to be asleep because it never comes however I hope it will come by christmas day
to Mary Doyle HODDER HOUSE, MAY 30, 1869
I am glad to say that I have made my first communion Oh mama I cannot express the joy that I felt on the happy day to receive my creator into my breast I shall never though I live a 100 years I shall never forget that day.
‘Three cheers for the holidays,’ he scribbled at the end of a note dated August 1st about packing up at the end of the school year. Following his annual summer holiday at home, he returned in September 1869 to begin his studies in the ‘grand medieval dwelling-house’ of Stonyhurst College. ‘It was the usual public school routine of Euclid, algebra and the classics,’ he later said, ‘taught in the usual way, which is calculated to leave a lasting abhorrence of these subjects.’ In letters home, however, he concealed any distaste he felt for his studies, and appeared determined to succeed.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, SEPTEMBER 19, 1869
I have arrived all safe—I suppose my luggage is safe and sound at stonyhurst We got our books yesterday, we have got The history of Caesar for Latin translation and parsing, a greek grammer, poetry, Latin Grammer, a french author, Catechism, English history, and other books my love to Papa and the brats has Lottie cryed at all after me
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, NOVEMBER 14, 1869
I have bad news to tell you two poor boys have died at stonyhurst within the last 3 weeks from getting croup, to my great delight 50 new books have been bought for the library, we go to communion every second sunday I went this morning. I am in the 1st class arithmetic and am learning geometry & fractions my love to the chicks and to papa.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST
I have just received your letter. I got the tea & coffee all right. I am greatly in need of envelopes, all were spoilt by the jam except 2 or 3 middle ones.
I am in the lybrary. the book I am reading at present is Story of Arthur and the Knights of the round table.
Arthurian legend, with valiant knights and heroic deeds against grim opponents, made a profound impression on the young boy, who had already heard tales of chivalry, often in French, from his mother. For the future author of The White Company, Sir Nigel, and other historical romances, the story of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table proved to be a touchstone, not only for its sense of epic history, but also for the code of chivalry it expressed, as guidance for his own personal conduct.
As Christmas rolled around once again, however, Conan Doyle, still ten years old, found himself more concerned with winter sports like iceskating, and with the contents of his annual holiday box from home.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, NOVEMBER 21, 1869
I hope you are quite well I am as well as I ever was I send you a picture Mr Cassidy gave me for knowing my Greek Grammer. in that old box I would like 1 plum-pudding 1 chicken & german sausage 1 piece of tongue. 1 doz oranges 1 half doz apples 1 plum cake 1 shortbread cake, a packet of butterscotch and as a novelty a few sticks of Gundy and 1 quill pen some paper and some sweets & some liquorice, send it to red lion.
to Charles Doyle STONYHURST, JANUARY 7, 1870
Dearest Papa
I hope you and the cats have had a merry Xmas and a happy new year, I am sure I have had a jolly one. You would have your heart’s content of skating if you were here we have 6 hours skating before dinner and 4 after it here on holidays which come every week. I hope you will have a lot. we had skating by torchlight at midnight last week, and one of the Fathers nearly put out his eye by falling on another’s skates. I am getting on very well at Schools & will I think get a prize.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, JANUARY 30, 1870
We were out skating yesterday, I got 48 tumbles, which would have broken anybodys head except a schoolboys; we are to go again this evening. If you have any more stamps, send them; dont tire yourself by writing too often.
The durability of Conan Doyle’s skull would be tested many more times as his passion for skating and other sports grew. Meanwhile, though he remained upbeat in his letters home, he began to find school dreary and monotonous. ‘The life was Spartan,’ he later wrote. ‘Dry bread and hot well-watered milk was our frugal breakfast. There was a ‘joint’ and twice a week a pudding for dinner. Then there was an odd snack called ‘bread and beer’ in the afternoon, a bit of dry bread and the most extraordinary drink, which was brown but had no other characteristic of beer. Finally there was hot milk again, bread, butter, and often potatoes for supper. We were all very healthy on this régime, with fish on Fridays. Everything in every way was plain to the verge of austerity.’
Against this backdrop, Father Cassidy’s little acts of kindness toward the boys like the one mentioned below gave Conan Doyle a lasting sense of gratitude toward him that he expressed in letters late in the priest’s life.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, MARCH 6, 1870
The extraordinary examen was on Friday, so now all the 2nd term examens are done Mr Cassidy scattered a whole lot of Chocolate among us a few nights ago. I am getting on pretty well. I find the greek the hardest lesson.
There is an hour & a half walk on monday
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, MARCH 20, 1870
Cricket began yesterday; I am in the 1st match, and am in the middle of a match, the 4 best against the rest. I have not much news; a father named Father postleskite is dying. I am getting on nicely. I am horridly tired, so good by
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST
I have just received another letter from Tottie. I hope you enjoy yourself in the country, you will be further from the Pentlands than before, for if. I am not mistaken there was no road that way. Has Papa to walk in to office every day if so I pity him. I must now stop & ask you to write soon to your ever loving son
Tired as he was, Conan Doyle could not help but notice that letters from Edinburgh conveyed a sense that all was not well at home. Charles Doyle’s behaviour was becoming increasingly erratic as he succumbed to alcoholism, and the income from his surveyor’s post was no longer reliable. ‘His thoughts were always in the clouds and he had no appreciation of the realities of life,’ Conan Doyle remarked in Memories and Adventures without discussing his father’s problems directly in pu
blic. It was left to Mary Doyle to cope with what he called ‘the realities of life’, particularly the raising of the large family. She did so, including changing addresses in Edinburgh at least six times before young Conan Doyle reached the age of eleven, in a search for more affordable quarters.
In London, where the prosperous Doyles lived, he had a number of aunts, but the ‘Auntie’ referred to in the next letter was probably Annette, his father’s sister, who never married and so took a special interest in the boy, eleven years old now.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, AUTUMN 1870
I received a nice kind note from Auntie today, they are all well in London, she says you are the best correspondent she ever saw. she sent a little ornamented card with the names of some Marquise’s ancestors, she praises Tots up to the skies.
I am very happy now, but I miss Cony’s laugh sometimes I hope you are all more or less well.
I am taking care of my clothes. that big coat is grand. I always wear it now as the weather is chilly, and it never gets dirty, every dirt flies off it. I am so glad I brought the sardines and jam it is so pleasant after a hard day’s study to sit down to sardines & tea I like having tea & coffee awfully. I keep a diary I am continually using my chalks, they are jolly
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST
we had a dreadfully long walk about a week ago, 25 miles, really I am quite in earnest, 25 miles and such a walk—across rivers, and ditches & hedges—we went nearly up to the top of Pendle. we were awfully tired, and had to change all our clothes on coming in. we had to wade in water above our knees often, and once we crossed a very rapid stream about a yard deep & 5 yards wide by getting from the branches at one side of the stream on to the top of a tree on the other side. Guibara who is small, gave up after walking 15 miles but I and a lot of fellows made a litter out of some branches and carried him about 2 miles till luckily a small dog cart passed us, and we put him into it & he drove off to Stonyhurst.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, OCTOBER 31, 1870
I have just been telling some of the fellows the grey man of the forest which you told me several years ago.* The compositions are next Monday. I am composing poetry in a large theme book. I copy a part of 1 of the pieces
A STUDENTS DREAM
1
The Student he lay on his narrow bed he dreamt not of the morrow confused thoughts they filled his head and he dreamt of his home with sorrow
2
The Student he lay on his narrow bed all round dark was the night the stars they twinkled above his head and the moon it shone quite bright
3
He thought of the birch’s stinging stroke and he thought with fear on the morrow he wriggled and tumbled and nearly awoke and again he sighed with sorrow
His letters do not tell how much Stonyhurst employed corporal punishment to enforce order and discipline. He received more than his share, for he was long deemed an insubordinate, rebellious boy by his schoolmasters, but he seems never to have described punishments in letters home (which may have been read by school authorities before being posted). Only this poem, and a later comment about overcoming the sulkiness and ill temper his masters had charged him with, allude meaningfully to what he described in Memories and Adventures:
Corporal punishment was severe, and I can speak with feeling as I think few, if any, boys of my time endured more of it. It was of a peculiar nature, imported also, I fancy, from Holland. The instrument was a piece of india-rubber of the size and shape of a thick boot sole. This was called a ‘Tolley’—why, no one has explained, unless it is a Latin pun on what we had to bear. One blow of this instrument, delivered with intent, would cause the palm of the hand to swell up and change colour. When I say that the usual punishment of the larger boys was nine on each hand, and that nine on one hand was the absolute minimum, it will be understood that it was a severe ordeal, and that the sufferer could not, as a rule, turn the handle of the door to get out of the room in which he had suffered. To take twice nine upon a cold day was about the extremity of human endurance.
The budding poet soon found uses for his talents. He began to be aware of ‘some literary streak’ setting him apart from others. ‘There was my debut as a storyteller,’ he later told an interviewer: ‘On a wet half-holiday I have been elevated onto a desk, and with an audience of little boys all squatting on the floor, with their chins upon their hands, I have talked myself husky over the misfortunes of my heroes. Week in and week out those unhappy men have battled and striven and groaned for the amusement of that little circle.’ Even at his tender age he expected payment for his efforts. ‘I was bribed with pastry,’ he recalled. ‘Sometimes, too, I would stop dead in the very thrill of a crisis, and could only be set a-going again by apples. When I had got so far as ‘With his left hand in her glossy locks, he was waving the blood-stained knife above her head, when—’I knew that I had my audience in my power.’
As it happened, the young storyteller was introduced about now to Sir Walter Scott, a writer who would inspire even greater flights of fancy.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, NOVEMBER 25, 1870
Your letter has just come I beg of you not to take any trouble doing stockings for me, and I assure you I am quite well. I was in the infirmary yesterday but it was only because I threw up from the heat of the chapel. I have had a good rest and Ann brought me Ivanhoe to read, and now I feel jolly.* I will try and write longer letters now.
Many hurrahs for the stamps some of which I had not got and for 5 of which a fellow gave me a rare Austria, Brunswick Normandy Germany and Sweden. I am glad to hear that the canaries and their 2 little owners are very well. One of the boys in our school got a fit and nearly died this morning but he is recovering now & little Guibara would have died of the croup only that it was found out that he had it I am enjoying myself very much and often look forward to Xmas.
PS My number is 31 like last year.
‘Pray continue, Watson. I find your narrative most arresting. Did you personally examine this ticket? You did not, perchance, take the number?’
‘It so happens that I did,’ I answered with some pride. ‘It chanced to be my old school number, thirty-one, and so is stuck in my head.’
—‘The Adventure of the Retired Colourman’
Many little details of his early years ‘stuck in his head’ and came out in his writings.
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, NOVEMBER 29, 1870
My sickness is all gone except a slight headache, today is a half holiday but I think, and I suppose you will agree with me, that it would be best to remain quiet. I am amusing myself indoors very much however by drawing and reading and pasting in stamps, I like collecting awfully.
There is a great shindy going on, half Stonyhurst says that England has declared war with Prussia—the other section say England declared for peace, which is true?
News of the Franco-Prussian War breaking out in July 1870 was so momentous that it ‘made a ripple even in our secluded backwater’. He took France’s side, while he and his schoolmates waited eagerly to see if Britain would be drawn into the conflict. The school fostered great respect for the military: many students went on to serve in Britain’s armed forces, and to distinguish themselves in combat, with Conan Doyle later noting an unusually large number of Stonyhurst boys receiving the Victoria Cross and the Distinguished Service Order. ‘In spite of a large infusion of foreigners and some disaffected Irish, we were a patriotic crowd,’ he recalled, ‘and our little pulse beat time with the heart of the nation.’
to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, DECEMBER 6, 1870
Please excuse me for not writing till now, and now writing such a beastly scrawl. I am as happy as could be, and I hope you are also. I have been thinking of anything I wanted in particular and I think that a box of those coloured paper colours would be jolly for nobody here has any.
I am so sorry for poor old France which, though I dont hear very much war news, still is I hear getting beaten. the most frightful prophecies are going about, about her I hope t
hey are all lies. today is a half holyday and I think we will have a football match, we have just finished dinner, we have rare weather we have not had snow or ice for about a month. I have just received your letter I think that it would be no use to send me the cloister and the hearth for it might get spoiled and it is rather expensive.* we had a 10 mile walk today and caught a dear little shrew mouse. I am very sorry to say that poor Mr Cassidy has taken a fit of spitting blood but he is getting better. I like Mr Splaine awfully, his father died a few weeks ago
I must now say goodbye for I am trespassing on my study time. I never was better in my life, so dont alarm yourself
Father Cyprian Splaine was the second of three Stonyhurst masters singled out in young Arthur’s letters home. Splaine catered to some of the schoolboy tastes influencing Conan Doyle’s literary directions in adulthood, but his personality—timorous and prone to outbreaks of tears—proved not very empathetic with the vigorous athletic youngster, and in a later letter, Conan Doyle sounds greatly relieved when his next form-master, Father Reginald Colley (then a young man still in his twenties), arrived on the scene.