by June Thomson
Against this theory it could be argued that the nature of the material demanded this less intimate approach, as many of the events in the Mazarin Stone case occurred when Watson was absent from the scene. Watson was himself aware of the potential difficulties of such a situation. As he states in ‘The Problem of Thor Bridge’, some of the unrecorded cases of which he had kept notes could only be told as if by a third person as he was ‘either not present or played so small a part in them’ to make the use of the first person viable. However, this had not prevented him in the past from invariably writing in the first person, relying on Holmes to narrate in the form of direct speech those events which Watson himself had not witnessed. Good examples of the use of this technique are seen in ‘The Adventure of the Gloria Scott’ and ‘The Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual’, both accounts of cases which occurred before Watson met Holmes and in both of which almost the entire narratives are given by Holmes through direct speech.
There is evidence within the account of the Mazarin Stone case to support this theory of a cooling off between the two men due to Watson’s second marriage. Watson has quite clearly not been inside the Baker Street rooms for some considerable time. It has, in fact, been so long that he looks about the room, familiarising himself again with such well-known objects as Holmes’ violin case and chemistry bench. He has not seen anything of Holmes either, for he has to ask Billy the page-boy about Holmes’ state of health, evidence that Holmes has not visited Watson in Queen Anne Street. There is an edginess, too, about their conversation, at least at the beginning of their meeting for, although Holmes expresses pleasure at seeing Watson again in his ‘old quarters’, he goes on to add, as he indicates the gasogene, that he hopes alcohol is permitted and that Watson has not learnt to despise his, Holmes’, pipe and ‘lamentable tobacco’, remarks which I take to be a sardonic comment on the possible influence of the second Mrs Watson on her husband’s tastes and habits in the intervening months since the two men had met.
Nevertheless, after this initial sarcasm, Holmes quickly relents and the conversation between the two men soon assumes its former, easy familiarity with Holmes teasing Watson and referring to him as ‘my old friend’, although there is a valedictory ring to one of his later comments. When Watson declares that he cannot leave Holmes alone with Sam Merton, a dangerous and desperate man, Holmes replies, ‘Yes, you can, Watson. And you will, for you have never failed to play the game. I am sure you will play it to the end.’
At that period, the acknowledgement that someone had ‘played the game’ was one of the highest compliments one Englishman could pay to another. In praising Watson in this manner, Holmes seems to be looking back over his shoulder, as it were, at Watson’s role in their relationship and, while endorsing Watson’s outstanding qualities as a friend, is also signalling that the time for parting has almost come.
And yet, despite this resumption of their relationship, some lingering reserve remains. It is still evident, I believe, as late as September 1903 at the time of the Creeping Man inquiry, in his account of which Watson admits outright that ‘the relations between us in those latter days were peculiar’. Watson goes on to explain that Holmes had come to regard him as a habit or an institution, like his violin and his shag tobacco. Although Watson had his uses, Holmes was nevertheless exasperated by a ‘certain methodical slowness in my mentality’ which served to ‘make his own flamelike intuitions and impressions flash up the more vividly and swiftly’. ‘Such’, Watson adds with a touch of sadness, ‘was my humble role in our alliance.’ There is a similar quality of valediction about these remarks, particularly the last one, as if Watson is also standing back from his relationship with Holmes and seeing it clearly for the first time.
But if Holmes was exasperated by Watson’s slowness of mentality, Watson, too, was annoyed at times by Holmes’ behaviour to an extent which he has not expressed in quite so critical a manner since the early days of 1881–9 when they had first shared the Baker Street lodgings. It was caused by the demands Holmes was making on his time.
His new practice in Queen Anne Street was ‘not inconsiderable’, as he himself describes it. It was also in a fashionable part of the West End and in the heart of London’s most exclusive medical district, centred on Harley Street where all the best and most expensive specialists had their consulting rooms. Holmes’ own physician, Dr Moore Agar, had his practice in Harley Street. Situated not far from Portland Place and within walking distance of Regent’s Park and the gardens of Cavendish Square, Queen Anne Street, which crosses Harley Street, remains much as Watson knew it at the turn of the century, apart from some modern redevelopment. Architecturally, it is more interesting than Baker Street. The tall houses of four or more storeys with their narrow basements are built in a variety of styles, from the classic simplicity of the eighteenth century with its preference for plain brick or half-stuccoed façades and simple sash windows, to a more exuberant taste for decorated bays, mansard roofs and imposing balustrades.
This third practice must have cost Watson more than the rundown one in Paddington or the smaller one in Kensington, and it is a minor mystery, given his mishandling of his personal finances and his weakness for betting on horses, how he managed to afford it. Grace Dunbar, with dependants relying on her for support, cannot have contributed much from just her governess’s salary, unless Gibson presented her with a cheque when she left his employment as compensation for all she had suffered through his conduct. Watson had, of course, the capital from the sale of the Kensington practice as well as his fees as an author, which he may have augmented by a lucky win at the races or shrewd investment in stocks and shares. However he managed it financially, the move to Queen Anne Street was a step up the professional ladder and there is every sign that, as a newly-married man, Watson threw himself as enthusiastically into making this practice a success as he had at Paddington when he and Mary had first set up home together.
He was certainly kept busy. After he has given medical treatment to Baron Gruner in the Illustrious Client case, Watson has to hurry away as he is ‘overdue’, presumably for one of his own patients. These professional commitments made him less tolerant of the demands Holmes made on his time. Summoned to Baker Street by one of Holmes’ ‘laconic messages’ at the beginning of the Creeping Man inquiry, Watson was disappointed to discover that the apparent purpose behind the request for his presence was to discuss dogs, about which Holmes was thinking of writing a monograph. ‘Was it for so trivial a question as this that I had been summoned from my work?’ Watson asks himself, not without justification. Although amusing, the contents of Holmes’ message, ‘Come at once if convenient – if inconvenient come all the same’, sound peremptory and also show scant regard for Watson’s professional duties.
Watson expresses a similar impatience during the Creeping Man inquiry, in which Holmes expects him to spend several days at one of the university towns, helping him to investigate Professor Presbury’s strange behaviour. It was, Watson points out, ‘an easy task on the part of Holmes, who had no roots to pull up, but one which involved frantic planning and hurrying on my part, as my practice was by this time not inconsiderable.’ Holmes’ thoughtlessness is inexcusable, as he was perfectly well aware of Watson’s professional commitments. In ‘The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone’, he remarks that Watson bears ‘every sign of a busy medical man, with calls on him every hour.’
And yet, despite these occasions when Watson’s tolerance was sorely tried, he still remained a loyal and caring friend. When he heard of the murderous attack on Holmes during the Illustrious Client case, a ‘pang of horror’ passed through his ‘very soul’ and, for the next six days, he visited Holmes regularly. He was also willing to spend a great deal of time learning about Chinese ceramics at Holmes’ request, even though Holmes, with his love of secrecy, failed to tell him to what purpose this acquired knowledge would be put. ‘By long experience I had learnt the wisdom of obedience,’ Watson remarks resignedly as he sets off to borrow a book
on the subject from the London Library in St James’s Square where, incidentally, the sub-librarian, Lomax, is a friend of his.
To return to the subject of Watson’s marriage, I believe that, given the evidence set out above, we can, by making reasonable assumptions, chart out the events leading up to this event. Having met Grace Dunbar again after the end of the Thor Bridge inquiry, Watson continued to meet her clandestinely, keeping all knowledge of their developing relationship secret from Holmes. At some time between June and September 1902, they agreed to marry but Watson, knowing what Holmes’ reaction would be, decided to approach this delicate matter circumspectly. His first action, therefore, was to move out of Baker Street into his own apartment in Queen Anne Street and to resume his medical career. It is not known what excuse he gave to Holmes. It may have been financial; he needed the money. Or he may simply have expressed a desire to return to active practice as a GP.
Although Holmes cannot have been pleased with Watson’s decision, he apparently took it philosophically. As we have seen, there is no indication of any break in their relationship during the Illustrious Client case. The rift came not long before January 1903 when Grace Dunbar and Watson married, probably quietly in a registry office,* and Holmes realised the full extent of Watson’s so-called desertion. In fact, they did not see one another again until June 1903, after which, as has already been observed, there still remained a certain reserve between them.
In setting out the suggested chronology of the cases belonging to this period, I have inserted in italics this other information regarding Watson’s second marriage and its effect on his relationship with Holmes in order that this pattern of events is made quite clear. Readers are again referred to Appendix One for an explanation of the dating of some of the cases and an analysis of the crimes involved. Some of these cases have already been set out in the chronology in Chapter Fourteen. Because of their relevance to the events described above, I have repeated them here.
Date Case First publication
October* 1901? Thor Bridge February–March 1922
Watson meets Grace Dunbar
May* 1902? Shoscombe Old Place April 1927
June 1902* Three Garridebs January 1925
Between June and September Watson moves to Queen Anne Street and resumes his medical career
September 1902* Illustrious Client
February–March 1925
December 1902 or early January 1903 Watson marries Grace Dunbar
January 1903* Blanched Soldier November 1926
Told by Holmes.
Reference to Watson’s marriage.
Rift between Holmes and Watson.
June 1903? Mazarin Stone October 1921
Told in the 3rd person.
Relationship between Holmes and Watson resumed.
July 1903*
Three Gables October 1926
September 1903* Creeping Man March 1923
It should be pointed out that several commentators, among them D. Martin Dakin, have questioned the authenticity of some of these accounts. As readers may see from the chronology, all the dates of first publication belong to a much later period, 1921 to 1926, and for this reason I propose dealing with this contentious subject in the epilogue, which covers that stage in Holmes’ and Watson’s lives, although one aspect of it relating to ‘The Adventure of the Three Gables’ must be examined now, as it has a direct bearing on Holmes’ state of mind at this particular time.
This account has evoked much criticism largely because of the racist attitude Holmes shows towards Stevie Dixon, the Negro boxer. Two of his remarks are especially offensive: ‘I shan’t ask you to sit down for I don’t like the smell of you’ and his retort, as he reaches into his pocket, that he is looking not for his gun but for his scent bottle. Holmes has not shown such overt racism before. In fact, in the Yellow Face inquiry, he treats Mrs Munro’s little half-caste daughter, the product of her marriage in America with John Hebron, a Negro, with sympathy and makes no disparaging comment either about the child or Mrs Munro’s first husband. Nor does he remark on Daulat Ras, the Indian undergraduate, in the Three Students inquiry. However, Holmes was a product of his age and it should be pointed out that the Victorians tended to regard uneducated people of non-white races as uncivilised.
It should also be pointed out that Stevie Dixon is a thoroughly unpleasant character, a ‘bruiser’ whom Holmes suspects of killing a young man called Perkins outside the Holborn Bar. In dealing with any violent or brutal men, as for example Neil Gibson in the Thor Bridge case or Dr Roylott in the Speckled Band inquiry, both of them white, Holmes shows no compunction in expressing his dislike of them. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that, until the Three Gables case, Holmes had never before shown his contempt for another human being in quite so blatant a manner. The remarks are unworthy of him.
If it is any defence, which I doubt, it should be added that Holmes had an ‘abnormally acute set of senses’, to quote his own words in ‘The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier’, and his sense of smell was quite clearly offended by Dixon’s lack of personal freshness, although this does not excuse his sneering references to it.
Another reason for Holmes’ exceptional rudeness may be attributed to his mental health at this particular period. He was showing definite signs of stress, brought on by many years of over-work and almost certainly exacerbated by Watson’s departure from Baker Street and his second marriage. Watson himself describes the ‘gap of loneliness and isolation which surrounded the saturnine figure of the great detective’. In that loneliness, Holmes had reverted to using drugs again, as Watson reports in ‘The Adventure of the Creeping Man’, in which he refers obliquely to ‘less excusable habits’ in which his old friend was indulging. He was also not eating properly and had lost weight to such an extent that Billy, the page-boy, was anxious about his health. It is clear that Holmes was close to another breakdown.
There are signs, too, that he was becoming more eccentric in his behaviour. In the Mazarin Stone inquiry, having recovered the stolen gem, Holmes slips it into Lord Cantlemere’s pocket, much to that elderly peer’s bewilderment. Holmes tries to pass off this bizarre behaviour as an ‘impish’ example of his love of practical jokes. But Lord Cantlemere is much nearer the truth in describing it as ‘perverted’. He seldom laughed either, as Watson, or rather the anonymous narrator, remarks in his account of the same case, and his periods of abstraction were becoming more extreme. Having summoned Watson to Baker Street at the beginning of the Creeping Man inquiry, Holmes sits huddled silently in his armchair for half an hour as he ponders over the problems of the case, quite oblivious of Watson’s presence in the room.
It is therefore not surprising, even if it is still inexcusable, that given the stress Holmes was under and these signs of growing eccentricity, those quirks of personality which had always been apparent, such as his outspokenness and his disregard for other people’s feelings, should be accentuated to such a degree that his behaviour became at times socially unacceptable.
His work was also suffering. In the Creeping Man inquiry, Holmes castigates himself for missing vital clues which would have led to an earlier solution of the case. In fact, only a few weeks* after this investigation, which occurred in September 1903 and which Watson reports was one of the last cases Holmes was to undertake, Holmes decided to retire. ‘It is surely time that I disappeared into the little farm of my dreams,’ he tells Watson.
Holmes, whose sense of the dramatic was one of the strongest features of his personality, knew when to quit the stage, although this was not to be his final curtain call.
* Holmes also made use of the services of Shinwell Johnson, a.k.a. Porky Shinwell, a former criminal, who, Watson reports in ‘The Adventure of the Illustrious Client’, had since the ‘first years of the century’, i.e. the early part of the 1900s, acted as Holmes’ underworld agent, passing on valuable information about criminal activities. Holmes also had another useful contact, Langdale Pike, who was his ‘human book of refere
nce upon all matters of social scandal’.
* Mr Hilton Cubitt married his American bride, Elsie Patrick, at a registry office ceremony. See ‘The Adventure of the Dancing Men’.
* See Chapter Sixteen for the theory regarding the date of Holmes’ retirement.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SUSSEX AND QUEEN ANNE STREET
October 1903–July 1907
‘… since he [Holmes] has definitely retired from London to Sussex and betaken himself to study and bee-farming on the Sussex Downs, notoriety has become hateful to him …’
Watson: ‘The Adventure of the Second Stain’
Although the precise date of Holmes’ retirement from active practice is unknown, we have already established that it was not long after September 1903, the date of the Creeping Man case. I suggest it took place in early October, a theory which will be explained in detail later in the chapter when the publication dates of some of Watson’s accounts are more fully examined.