Baker Street Confidential: Trollheart's Most Singular Sherlock Holmes Journal

[Trollheart]

Title: "The Naval Treaty"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 23rd Holmes short story; 11th in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes; 25th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Watson's house; Baker Street; Waterloo; Briarbrae, Woking, Surrey (in the telling: Charles Street; Ivy Lane, Brixton); Scotland Yard; Downing Street
Date: May 23
The crime or the mystery: The theft of an important naval treaty document
The time (if given): 9:45 pm


The Players
The client: Percy Phelps, a clerk in the Foreign Office
The victim(s): Percy Phelps (and by extension the Foreign Office and by further extension England)
The accused or suspected: None
The arrested: Possibly Joseph Harrison, possibly nobody
The investigating officer(s): Mr. Forbes
The advocate(s): Watson; Annie Harrison, Percy's fiancee
The real culprit(s): Joseph Harrison
Others: Lord Holdhurst, Foreign Secretary and uncle to Percy Phelps; Mr. Tangey, the commissionaire; Mrs. Tangey, his wife; Unnamed police constable; Dr. Ferrier

The clues: A bell ringing in an empty office; an attempted break-in in Briarbrae
The red herring(s): The precipitous departure of the commissionaire's wife from the Foreign Office building and his attempts to dissuade Phelps from following her; an apparently broken fence
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: After the attempted break-in, Holmes realises it is Joseph Harrison trying to retrieve the treaty from where he has hidden it
The result: The treaty is recovered and returned to Phelps

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

Before the case

Watson receives a letter from an old schoolfriend, asking for his help and that of Holmes, though he does not describe his issue, asking them both to come visit him. Watson seeks out Holmes (he has been married for a few months now and so no longer resides at Baker Street) who is in the final stages of solving another small mystery, which he finishes and then turns to the letter Watson has brought him, agreeing that they should indeed take the case.

Synopsis:

Percy Phelps tells Holmes and Watson that he had been instructed to copy out an important naval treaty by his boss, the Foreign Secretary (also his uncle) and it has been stolen. He had (rather foolishly) left it on his desk when he went to get coffee, and while downstairs heard a bell ring up in his office, where only he had been. Rushing back up, he found the original gone. After a false chase after the wife of the commissionaire, who had seemed to be acting suspiciously, he was unable to recover the paper, and promptly fell into a "brain fever", in which he has been for the last nine weeks, hence his delay in writing to Watson. After grilling him on the layout of his office and establishing what facts he can, Holmes goes back to London with Watson.

They then go to see Forbes, the detective who is in charge of the case. Mostly though he has a whole lot of nothing, having confirmed Mrs. Tangey's alibi for her strange behaviour and also ascertained the family have no money worries. On their return to Woking the next day they are told that there was an attempted break in; Phelps awoke to find someone trying his window, but when he challenged the man he ran off. After a quick search around the grounds, Holmes returns to the house and asks Annie to remain in the room she is in all day; she is not to move from there for any reason, and at night she must lock the door and keep the key. Meanwhile, Phelps will, he says, return with him and Watson to London. Her brother seems anxious she leave the room, but having promised Holmes she pleads a headache and refuses.

However, instead of returning to London, Holmes remains behind, mystifying both Phelps and Watson, and returns in the morning. Deciding to play a little trick on Phelps, he hides the recovered treaty under a covered serving platter, and when he asks the man to lift the lid Phelps is beside himself with joy. Holmes then goes on to outline the events which transpired after he left them, and which led to his success in getting the naval treaty restored. Having visited the little village of Ripley, he tells them, and stocked up on some food, he returned to the house. On arriving he spied on Annie and noted she had done exactly as he instructed her, locking the room when she left and taking the key. Then he settled down in the bushes to wait.

He had a while to wait: another three hours and more before Joseph Harrison appeared again at the window, broke in and recovered the treaty from where he had hidden it under the floorboards. As he left, Holmes apprehended him, though the man gave him a good fight. After the miscreant had fled, Holmes wired his details to Forbes and returned to London with the treaty. He does mention that should Harrison get away it might not be the worst possible outcome, as it will save the government from a scandal. If it's revealed that an important naval treaty was left where anyone could see it, and that it was robbed, it will be very embarrassing for the Prime Minister, the Foreign Office and everyone concerned.

As to how he caught Joseph Harrison, Holmes explains that he had first suspected the brother-in-law when Phelps noted that he had been trying to finish the copying of the treaty in order to accompany Joseph home, and so he would have had to call for Phelps, and was familiar with the layout of the office. Next, when someone tried to break into the bedroom - which had been Joseph's until he was turned out when Phelps took ill - it was obvious to Holmes that Joseph had hidden the treaty there, especially as the attempt came the first night Annie was not there looking after her fiance. When the news of Joseph's financial woes came to light - he had invested heavily and lost heavily in stocks - Holmes knew he had his man.

As for the bell ringing, he conjectures that when Joseph went to see Phelps originally he had had no base intentions, and so rang the bell when he did not find his brother-in-law there. Only then did he see the treaty, and, in a crime of opportunity, took it in order to sell it to the highest bidder.

After the case

Nothing really. The case, as such, ends with Holmes' clever and theatrical reveal, and the rest of the story is taken up with his explanation as to how he caught the thief.

How the case is solved:

See second-last paragraph of the synopsis

Comments:

Again I'm afraid I find the whole point of this story ludicrous. If I was given a valuable document - valuable not only for my own career but for the security of my country, as he well knows it is - I would never leave it unattended in my office, of all reasons, to get a cup of coffee! At worst, I'd shout down the stairs or send someone (or do without it) but surely Phelps could have either taken the treaty with him or at least locked it in a secure drawer? The cavalier attitude with which he abandons this most important piece of paper could, perhaps, be partially blamed on his tiredness, but even so, it's monumentally stupid. Surely he would make every effort to ensure it was never out of his sight? Yet we're supposed to believe he leaves it, in an unlocked office (I don't know if he has the key, but if he's the last one there you'd imagine he does) and heads downstairs for a brew! As if.

Not only that, but Holmes' dismissive hope that Harrison gets away and so saves the government from having to deal with a scandal ignores the fact that the man is a traitor, ready to sell his country out for money. Surely, in those volatile times, with the death penalty still in full force, they would want to catch and punish him, even if the details had to be hushed up and the trial took place in a sort of star chamber? Letting him get away with what could be potentially an act that could lead to war seems short-sighted and self-serving, and not the sort of forbearance and leniency one would expect from Her Majesty's government at this time of strained relationships and fracturing alliances.

There's also no mention made of how this revelation about her brother affects Annie, as she is utterly dispensed with once she has served her purpose in preventing Joseph from gaining entrance to the room before Holmes is ready to take him. The explanation - indeed, the handing over of the treaty - is all accomplished in Baker  Street, and she is not there. Does she even know her brother is a thief and a traitor? No mention is made of her again; Phelps doesn't even make reference to her, so happy is he to have his reputation saved.

Oh, and what's in a name? Isn't Annie Harrison just two letters removed from the mysterious and never explained Annie Morrison from "The Reigate Puzzle"?

Character Study

Joseph Harrison: A man with few morals, he fancies himself something of an expert on the stock market but loses everything, and as a result is in deep debt. When his sister becomes engaged to a young man at the Foreign Office, he takes the  chance fate throws in his path and robs the naval treaty. He does not consider how this will affect his sister or her husband-to-be. He does not, it would seem, even think about the consequences of betraying his country. He's all about the money. He's also a violent man, as he takes a swing at Holmes with a knife.

Percy Phelps: A nervous, highly-strung man who, when he realises the treaty has been stolen, falls into a swoon ("brain fever") and is ill for several weeks before he can call in Watson and Holmes. He surely realises that if his career is done due to his misfortune (a stupid mistake, I call it - see above under "Comments") then he may no longer be the match for Annie Harrison that he thought he would. A disgraced clerk, fired from his position at the Foreign Office, perhaps inadvertently responsible for his nation being dragged into war, is not quite the prospect a young girl dreams of. Not that she would care, but you'd have to imagine her family would have something to say about it. In fact, if he had not been caught, perhaps Joseph, as her elder brother, would have been the one to twist the knife further and tear the two of them apart, telling Annie she could not ally herself with a man involved in such a scandal. Wouldn't that have been ironic?

Character UN-Study:

I feel that this may be needed in order to explore those characters who should be more than they are, and in this first case I focus on Annie Harrison. She is crucial to the story - without a) her marrying Phelps her brother would never have come into contact with him and therefore never have had temptation thrust in his path; b) her tossing her brother out of his room and taking it over in order to minister to her fiance and c) her obeying Holmes' instructions and keeping Joseph from entering the bedroom, the case could not even have come about never mind be solved. Yet she is barely sketched in: "a good sort" Holmes calls her, and "a girl of strong character", but other than some vague information about her parents we're told little else about her. I think she has a bigger role to play in the story than Doyle allows for, and he has shortchanged his character here in my view. It is, however, sadly typical of the way most if not all females are treated by the author: they're either a means to an end or they're in the way as very peripheral characters.

Let's then look at Mrs. Tangey: there's a sense of perhaps misogyny or just classism about Holmes' almost disappointment that the commissionaire's wife is innocent when he shrugs "she seems to have an answer for everything." Well yes she does, because she's not guilty or involved in this in any way, but the detective seems to feel that she could be, or even should be. Her flight fits in with his original theory, and he seems annoyed that it has come to nothing. Leave aside the fact that the woman is innocent: I feel the underlying sentiment here - and I hope not, but it does seem to me to be the case - is, she's common and needs money so it must have been her. If this is so, then again Doyle does poor service indeed to yet another female character.

Better than you

In this case Forbes, the investigating officer, is nothing more than a two-dimensional caricature of a policeman really. Unlike Lestrade or even Gregson, we're told very little about him, other than that he is a "foxy little man", and has quite the wrong idea about Holmes' methods, believing the detective takes praise for the work of others, when it is in fact the reverse, as we know. Holmes then basically does all his work for him and lets him know where Harrison can be found, but feel Forbes is unlikely to even be up to the simple task of taking the thief. To be fair, Forbes does eliminate Tangey and his wife from his suspect list, but other than one other clerk who was there in the office at the time, but who left early, he has no other suspects and has basically given up the case, so Holmes' solving it must really rankle in one way, and certainly shows him up as a very poor specimen of Scotland Yard indeed.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Watson gets a letter from a friend of his who works at the Foreign Office. The man has had an important document stolen, and despite several leads it has not turned up. Holmes tricks his brother-in-law, Joseph Harrison, into revealing where he has hidden it and then retrieves it, saving the reputation of Watson's friend, and saving his country from a potential war.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 9

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 118

Famous Firsts

Satisfied Customer(s)? Very much so; Phelp's reputation - and job - are saved and England too is saved from a possible war.

Self-referentials "The Speckled Band"

Legal outcome (if any): Unsure; Holmes passes the details of Joseph Harrison to the police, but we're not told if he is apprehended, and even if he is, the government probably want to hush the whole thing up.

[Trollheart]

Title: "The Final Problem"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 24th Holmes short story; 12th and final  in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes; 26th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Watson's surgery and home; (in Holmes' telling: Bentinck Street; Welbeck Street, Marylebone Lane; Vere Street; Pall Mall); Mortimer Street; Lowther Arcade; Victoria Station; Canterbury; Newhaven; Dieppe; Brussels; Strasbourg; Interlaken; Meiringen; Reichenbach Falls
Date: April 24 1891
The crime or the mystery: Actually no mystery; the crime is the murder of Holmes *+*
The time (if given): evening


The Players
The client: None
The victim(s): Sherlock Holmes *+*
The accused or suspected: Professor Moriarty
The arrested: None (initially)
The investigating officer(s): n/a
The advocate(s): n/a
The real culprit(s): Professor Moriarty *+*
Others: Mycroft Holmes, in a very peripheral supporting role as a coachman; Peter Steiler the elder, owner of the Englischer Hof

*+* = But see "The Return of Sherlock Holmes"

The clues: n/a
The red herring(s): n/a
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: Italian priest
The breakthrough: n/a
The result: Death of Holmes *+* and of Moriarty


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case: None; for once, Holmes is more in fear of his life than interested in making clever observations.

Before the case

Again, this story takes place after Watson has married and so he is not lodging with Holmes. In fact, he says at the beginning that the number of cases the great detective has engaged his assistance on has been steadily decreasing, but one day in April Holmes appears at his door, flustered and wary, talking of air-guns. He tells Watson about Professor Moriarty, a criminal genius who controls all the gangs, all the robberies, all the schemes of the London underworld. Watson has never heard of the man, which is not surprising, as Doyle merely invented him for this story, despite the fact that he has gone down in Sherlockian mythology as the man's constant nemesis.

Through many efforts and over many months Holmes has managed to trap all the criminals, and there is a huge trial to take place when the police move in three days. However today Moriarty came to see him and threatened his life if he did not stop his endeavours. True to his word, the Professor sent many agents against him, all of which Holmes has eluded. But he knows his luck cannot last forever, and asks Watson to come to Europe with him. His friend agrees, and essentially here the case begins, such as it is.

Synopsis:

Having made it to the train station the next morning, Watson is aghast to see no sign of Holmes. However the wily detective has of course come in disguise, this time as an Italian priest, and only barely in time to fool Moriarty, who is already in pursuit. Having narrowly avoided the master criminal, Holmes and Watson make their way across Europe until they arrive at the small Swiss town of Meiringen. Here Holmes learns that, despite his best efforts, though all of his gang and confederates have been taken by the police, Moriarty has escaped. He suggests Watson return to England, as it is now too dangerous to be in his company, but his friend of course pours scorn on such an idea. He will remain with him to the last.

On leaving the hotel there, and on the way to see the grand sight of the Reichenbach Falls, Watson is called back to the hotel to look after an English woman who has taken a turn. Arriving back at the hotel he is aghast to find the call has been a ruse, and by the time he gets back to where he left Holmes, his old friend is gone. A note left under a rock at the edge of the falls explains that Moriarty has, as Holmes had expected, caught up with them, and that the two were to meet in single combat above the Falls. The professor has given Holmes leave to write a farewell letter to Watson. The doctor can only surmise that both men have fallen to their deaths, as there is no sign of either.

After the case

The end of the case brings us back to the beginning, when Watson was writing with a heavy heart about the loss of his friend. It is three years later, and still he has not had the courage or desire to put the events of Sherlock Holmes' final case *+* into words. However, as a relative of Moriarty now seeks to clear his name and slanders Holmes, Watson has felt it incumbent upon him to detail the true story. His account ends by describing Holmes as "the best and wisest man whom I have ever known."

How the case is solved: n/a

Comments:

As everyone and his mother knows, this was originally intended to be the last Sherlock Holmes story. Doyle, feeling constricted by the almost Frankenstein monster he had created, and feeling the character was taking him over and not allowing him to concentrate on other works, had decided to finally kill off his greatest creation. But he had reckoned without his - or rather, we should say, Sherlock Holmes' - adoring public, and there was a huge outcry and a demand to bring back the master detective, which he was eventually forced to do. There are good points in this, and bad. The good is that this "final" story was written before his accepted tour-de-force classic, everyone's favourite and the most popular and most-filmed of his stories, "The Hound of the Baskervilles", so had he been allowed to kill off Holmes we would never have had this wonderful tale. The bad is that, being forced to resurrect Holmes takes much of the impact of his "death" away after you've read this.

Although Doyle had no intention of bringing him back, and although I must admit the way he comes back and the effect it has on the mourning Watson is superb and very moving, this could have served as a fitting end for the detective. Wrapped in the arms of his nemesis (although only introduced here, which is a pity, as it again robs Moriarty of some of his impact), plunging into the cold unforgiving waters and the sharp jagged rocks of the Reichenbach Falls (what an appropriate word!), far from home, content to give his life so that Moriarty be defeated, it stands - or would have - as the ultimate gesture of sacrifice, the triumphant victory of justice over crime, of good over evil, of right over wrong. And in that plunge, their shared death, as it was to have been, Holmes melds the two halves of him together, in effect grappling with his darker self and defeating it, though at the cost of his own life.

Nobody can blame Doyle for the lessening of the effect of the story, since it was not a cheap ploy to sell books or bump up flagging interest. He really did intend to kill Holmes off, but for once the character determined his own destiny, and forced the author to bring him back to life. In some ways, it would have been a thankless death for Holmes. One would think that when he died, his coffin should have been paraded through the streets of London, flanked by an honour guard of police, with tens or even hundreds of lining the way, bidding farewell to the man who had made their city a safer place. To die, alone, in a foreign country, his body never even recovered for burial, would, in retrospect, have been a poor ending for such a towering figure of literature. So perhaps it's as well Doyle's plans were thwarted, and public opinion won in the end.

I echo again my annoyance though that Moriarty was only introduced here - and I think features in one other story - yet has gone down in history as Holmes' eternal arch enemy. It's like he was specially crafted to allow the great detective's death to mean something, but personally I feel it would have meant more had we been following the struggle between the two over a number of stories. For me, Moriarty is - and I'm sure almost everyone will disagree with me here, but I'm used to that - a lazy plot device and an agency to kill off Holmes. Who else, after all, could be expected to have bested the great sleuth? Perhaps Irene Adler? We never hear from her again. The trouble, here, with Doyle is that Holmes defeats all his adversaries and leaves few if any to seek revenge. So one had to be manufactured that would be his equal.

As we will discuss below, Moriarty is of course another side of Holmes, the dark side, so to speak - Darth Vader to his Obi-Wan Kenobi - a chilling vision of what Holmes might have become had he, as many a Scotland Yard detective remarked on occasion, turned to committing crime instead of combatting it. Doyle shows us, through Moriarty, what this "dark Holmes" might have been like, and even the master detective himself, though he abhors Moriarty, holds a grudging respect for him, and realises how alike the two are.

Was there another reason for "killing off" his hero outside of England, I wonder? Can it be that Doyle did not want the soil of his own country tainted with the blood of Holmes, essentially responsible for his death? Was he afraid that if the story had been set in England (this is one of only very few that are not, at least, not entirely) the site of Holmes' death might become some sort of shrine, a place people might visit? It had already become clear that many of his readers were unaware of, or refused to accept that there was any difference between the character and reality: Doyle regularly received letters addressed not to him but to Sherlock Holmes. Is it stretching it too far to think there might have been those who would have believed he had been literally - rather than literarily - killed, and who might want to visit the place he fell? In transferring the action, at least for his planned death, to Switzerland, was Doyle abrogating responsibility for the end of the master detective from England and pushing it onto "foreigners"? Is this one of the greatest acts of literary xenophobism in history? Or am I, as usual, talking bollocks? As the man from the Carlsberg ads says, probably.

The true effect of Holmes' "death" on his greatest friend and partner is not really seen until Doyle brings him back in "The Empty House", and we learn more of how Watson has coped with years of being without his best friend, and expecting never to see him again. Here, there isn't really that much said, possibly because Doyle didn't wish to overstate the case in the persona of the doctor, thereby giving rise to the feelings of anger and the demand for his resurrection that, well, happened anyway. He probably hoped he could lock this room for one final time and pocket the key. However, he of all people should know that it takes more than a lock to keep Sherlock Holmes out - or in - and a locked-room mystery is just the sort of thing the world's only consulting detective needs to bring him back to life.

Character Study

Professor Moriarty: There can be only one character study here, and while he has gone down as the nemesis of Sherlock Holmes, up to now we have known absolutely nothing of this man. Holmes tells us that is because the professor is so clever, but in reality it's because Doyle has just invented him for this story. Talk about a character having such a brief existence yet outliving his own mortal life and becoming all but immortal! Moriarty is a brilliant man, very much the equal of Holmes, and the master detective fears that if anyone can best him, it is the professor. With a sharp, analytical mind but the traits of the master criminal, Moriarty is able to use the kind of intelligence and strategy Holmes employs to help solve crimes to instead commit them, or assist in their commission.

He is said to have a professorial look about him, a rather older man, but is as vicious as a snake, and when everything else fails he is ready to get his hands dirty by taking Holmes on physically, all intellectual fencing dispensed with as the two men literally grapple at the precipice and fall over together. *+* Like Holmes, he seems to have a sneaking admiration for his adversary, even trying to convince him to drop his case, saying he will be sorry if he has to be the agency of his death, but that his reluctance will not stop him doing what must be done. He retains enough of his gentlemanly upbringing to allow Holmes to write a farewell note to Watson, and does not, it seems, for a moment consider that his enemy will either take the opportunity to escape, or try to leave any clue for Watson, though he does tell him where the final evidence to convict the gang may be found, discharging his last responsibility to Scotland Yard.

Here, to be fair, though he is the main antagonist of the story, we don't really learn all that much about him. Like a baby who has suddenly grown to full adulthood, he is presented as a fait accompli, the "spider in the web" who directs all of London's crimes, and to I suppose his credit Doyle doesn't make too much of an issue inserting him retrospectively into his previous stories, except as a vague, shadowy figure. Later adaptations on radio, TV and in movies would elevate the man to the status of an arch-villain, adding him to rewritten versions of the old stories and casting him in starring roles in new ones. It would be as if he was always there, and I myself was surprised to find, the first time, how very little he figures in the original writings of Arthur Conan Doyle. In a way, it's probably a pity he wasn't allowed to survive too, and go on to menace Holmes in his newly resurrected life. Bit of a waste, really, I feel.

Better than you Not this time.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After he has arranged for all of the criminal gang led by Professor Moriarty to be taken by the police, Holmes has to flee to Switzerland, under threat of death from the professor, who is as good as his word. Following him and Watson, Moriarty manages to get the doctor and Holmes separated, and when Watson returns to the Reichenbach Falls, where he had left his friend, Holmes is gone. A note explains that he has a battle to fight with Moriarty, and it is clear from the result that both men perished.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 1 (Although hundreds, perhaps thousands of Moriarty's network of criminals are taken, tehre are no details and anyway the main "big fish" he was after was Moriarty, who, ironically, he has to take with him *+* into oblivion)
Running total: 10

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1 (Moriarty; obviously I don't include Holmes himself)
Indirect: 0
Incidental : 0
Historical: 0
Total: 1
Running total: 119

Famous Firsts First appearance of Professor Moriarty, first time Holmes is seen to fail *+*

Satisfied Customer(s)? Hardly; Holmes is killed *+* though he does achieve his objective

Self-referentials "A Study in Scarlet", "The Naval Treaty" ("The Second Stain" is also mentioned, but since it is a later story, and since what's described here is not that story at all,  I don't include it)

Legal outcome (if any): Moriarty's gang arrested and Moriarty himself, though he escapes, is killed when he and Holmes plunge into the Reichenbach Falls *+*

[Trollheart]

Title: The Hound of the Baskervilles
Year first published:  1902
Type: Novel
Chronology: 3rd Holmes novel; 27th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Oxford Street; Regent Street; Northumberland Hotel; Baskerville Hall, Dartmoor - Baskerville Hall, The Great Grimpen Mire, Train Station, Coombe Tracey, The Moors
Date: 1899
The crime or the mystery: The death of Sir Charles Baskerville and the threat to the life of his successor and heir, Sir Henry.
The time (if given): Morning


The Players
The client: Dr. James Mortimer, a country surgeon
The victim(s): Sir Charles (and by extension, the threat to Sir Henry) Baskerville
The accused or suspected: None (Barrymore is suspected of something, but it turns out to be, not quite innocent, but a species of red herring)
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Lestrade
The advocate(s): Dr. Mortimer
The real culprit(s): Jack Stapleton, the naturalist
Others: John Barrymore, butler to Sir Henry; Mrs. Eliza Barrymore, his wife; Mr. Frankland, a crotchety old man fond of taking lawsuits against everyone; Miss Beryl Stapleton, originally introduced as the naturalist's sister but found later to be his wife; Cartwright, a messenger boy put into Holmes' service; Seldon, an escaped criminal and brother to Mrs. Barrymore

The clues: One of Sir Henry's boots, then the other, going missing; a note warning him to stay away from the moors; a strange man following Sir Henry and Dr. Mortimer, and giving his name as Sherlock Holmes; a portrait of Sir Hugh Baskerville;
The red herring(s): Barrymore's odd behaviour at the window of Baskerville Hall; the sound of his wife crying; the possibility of his being the one following Mortimer and Sir Henry in the cab on the London streets
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: When Holmes realises who Stapleton really is
The result: Sir Henry is saved - barely - the Hound shot and Stapleton is most likely killed when he vanishes into the Great Grimpen Mire.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

After perhaps rather cruelly putting Watson through his paces, asking him to deduce what he can from the walking stick left behind by Dr. Mortimer - whom they have not yet met - Holmes proceeds to demolish most of his friend's assertions, which seems really more an exercise in ego and a somewhat disturbing humiliation of his friend.

He also correctly dates the parchment Dr. Mortimer carries. Later he is able to tell that Watson has spent the day at his club.

Before the case

Holmes and Watson discuss the walking stick left in their apartments, the former trying to have the latter work out who it belongs to by using the methods of deduction the master detective has so often used. When Dr. Mortimer appears, or rather, returns, he tells them of the death of Sir Charles Baskerville of Baskerville Hall in Dartmoor, and of the imminent arrival of his heir, Sir Henry, and his fear for the young lord's life. He reads an account of an ancient legend which holds that a great beast, a huge dog, roams the moors and is attached to the doom of the Baskerville family, following the evil events of one night in the time of the English Civil War (1642 - 1651), when Sir Hugh Baskerville caused the untimely death of a girl after having abducted her. It is said that a huge hound ripped out his throat, and that ever since, the family has been under its curse.

Although Holmes scoffs at such notions, being the man of science that he is, he cannot deny that Sir Charles is dead, and that Dr. Mortimer seems to believe foul play was involved, having noted, before they were washed away, the footprints of a giant dog beside the corpse of Sir Charles. . With the arrival of Sir Henry in the country, Holmes agrees to see the heir to the Baskerville dynasty, and see what he can do.

Synopsis:

Sir Henry arrives the next morning - having reached London the previous morning - with Dr. Mortimer, and presenting a note that was delivered to his hotel, warning him not to come to Dartmoor as his life may be in danger. Holmes is quickly able to locate the newspaper from which the words have been cut, and notes other peculiarities about the missive. Sir Henry is mystified enough that someone should know he was staying at that particular hotel, never mind try to warn him off. Holmes cannot answer that, but as they remind Sir Henry of the legend of the Baskerville hound, Holmes tells him of the curious sightings of such a hound prior to his uncle's death, and about Dr. Mortimer's suspicions (which at this point are not his own). Sir Henry then tells them that one of his new boots has gone missing, and Holmes seems to think this may be important.

After they have made arrangements to visit Sir Henry for dinner, Holmes and Watson follow them out into the street at a distance, and note a cab following their friends, out of which leers a man with a thick black beard. On catching sight of Holmes though he has the cabby speed off. At lunch Sir Henry is beside himself: another boot has gone missing, and he is furious. They discuss the estate of the Baskervilles, which comes close to a million pounds, and Holmes notes that men would do much for such a sum. But there is no clear suspect, and before they leave Sir Henry unexpectedly finds his old boot, the second one taken, though nobody in the hotel seems to know how it was returned, or where it was found. Holmes asks Watson to accompany Sir Henry and Dr. Mortimer to Dartmoor, and they plan to leave at the weekend.

That evening Holmes has a reply to his advertisement about the cab that shadowed Dr. Mortimer and Sir Henry, and the driver tells him, completely to his surprise, that the man's name was Sherlock Holmes! The next day he sees Watson and Sir Henry and Dr. Mortimer off on the train. Arriving at Dartmoor the three find that there is a manhunt in progress for an escaped murderer called Selden, and when they get to Baskerville Hall the dark mood this news has thrown them into - coupled with the grey bleakness of the moors - is not lifted, as it is a sombre, unwelcoming and dreary place. During the night, Watson swears he hears a woman's sobbing, but nobody else seems to have heard it. However, life with Sherlock Holmes has not left the doctor unobservant, and he notes red rings around Mrs. Barrymore's eyes the next morning, though her husband denies she was crying.

The next morning Watson, seeing that Sir Henry has correspondence to answer, sets out across the moors alone, and meets Stapleton, the local naturalist, who shows him the Great Grimpen Mire, a swampy, marshy bogland where it is death to tread. He invites him to his house to meet his sister, but just then they hear a horrible moaning sound coming from the direction of the Mire. Stapleton dismisses it, but Watson can't help but be reminded of the legend of the Hound. Stapleton also points out the structures left behind by neolithic man, large stone houses, the only remnant of our ancient forefathers. When he goes off in pursuit of an insect, leaving Watson alone, the doctor is approached by his sister, who mistakes him for Sir Henry, and admonishes him for not heeding her note. At least now they know who sent it! But Watson quickly points out her mistake, and Miss Stapleton, though embarrassed, tries to impress upon the doctor the urgent need for him to convince his companion to return to London.

With the confusion sorted out after her brother rejoins them, they travel on to the Stapleton house, where Watson learns the man was a teacher once, but that an epidemic broke out and three of the children in his care died, and he gave it up, moving south with his sister. Inevitably, of course, Sir Henry falls for Beryl, which seems to really anger Stapleton, something which mystifies Watson. Would not her brother want her to be happy, and to make such a prestigious and advantageous match? But he seems to go out of his way to keep them separate, and does not wish them well. Watson is also introduced to Mr. Frankland, a somewhat interfering old busybody who likes to litigate for the sheer fun of it.

As recompense for a perceived slight against him, Sir Henry gives Barrymore some of his old suits. This seems a trivial point, but must be mentioned as Doyle uses this piece of throwaway information to great effect later, in a rather masterful piece of plot writing and wrong-footing of the reader. Barrymore himself falls under suspicion when he is seen signalling to someone out on the moor with a candle, and Sir Henry and Watson surmise that for some reason he is in contact with Selden, the escaped murderer. They go out after him but he escapes. While out there two interesting things happen: Watson sees the figure of a man standing on a hill, motionless, as if watching them, and the baying sound echoes across the moor again, hurrying them both home. When Barrymore refuses to admit what his connection is to the criminal, Sir Henry dismisses him angrily, but Barrymore's wife comes clean and says that Selden is her brother, and that her husband was only acting on her behalf. Annoyed, but relenting now, Sir Henry rescinds the dismissal. In return, and as thanks for their promise not to give his wife's brother up to the police, Barrymore tells them of a letter Sir Charles had received just prior to his death, signed with the initials L.L. He does not know who this is, but it seems clear, from the letter, which begged him to meet this person, that it was she (the letter makes it plain it was written by a woman) upon whom Sir Charles was waiting the night of his death. So if they can find out who L.L. is, they might be a step closer to solving the mystery.

Luckily, Dr. Mortimer knows of a lady called Laura Lyons, who is in fact the daughter of Frankland, he who likes to sue everyone. He tells Watson that her father cut her off because she married without his consent (and her husband deserted her) and that she lives on a pittance in a place called Coombe Tracey. Surely she is the L.L. who wrote the letter to Sir Charles? On visiting her, Watson finds this indeed to be the case: persecuted by her husband, against whom she has taken divorce proceedings, and with little money, she had hoped Sir Charles would help her but at the last moment had not kept  the appointment because she received help from another quarter. The next day, of course, she read of the death of Sir Charles. Leaving her with some facts but not all - and in some cases, more new questions - Watson goes in search of the strange man he saw that night out on the moor, and, having been advised by Barrymore, through his contact with Selden,  that he is known to be staying at one of the ancient stone huts, it is for here he heads.

When he gets there the hut is empty but there are signs of habitation. He waits for its occupant and is awestruck to find that it is in fact Holmes, who has come down secretly to Dartmoor without telling him. Reunited, the two form a plan and share information. Holmes tells Watson that Laura Lyons' mysterious benefactor is most likely Stapleton, for the two are intimately involved, and he also reveals that Beryl is not his sister but his wife. Just then they hear a horrible scream,and the cry of the hound,  and run to find a body lying on the ground. The man's neck is broken, he having fallen from the cliff, and Holmes moans that it is Sir Henry, but it turns out to be Selden, wearing the clothes Barrymore had procured from the baronet (see? I told you. What a wonderful piece of writing!). They are joined by Stapleton, who seems disappointed when he realises that the body is not that of Sir Henry, and both Holmes and Watson know this is their man but cannot prove it yet. Holmes says he needs another day or two to come up with the evidence, and asks Watson to carefully guard Sir Henry during that time. Holmes pretends aloud that he is going back to London in the morning.

When they rejoin Sir Henry Holmes notices the resemblance in the portrait of Hugo Baskerville to Stapleton, and now it's obvious the man is an heir to the property, and why he wants to kill Sir Henry. Concocting a plan, Holmes asks Sir Henry to accept the invitation to dinner he has received from Stapleton the next evening, but again pushes the fiction that he - and Watson, this time - are returning to London. He instructs the baronet to walk home across the moors, which surprises Sir Henry, as he has been counselled - by Holmes, indeed - not to do this under any circumstances. But he trusts the detective and agrees to follow his instructions. Holmes of course does not go back but instead to Coombe Tracey, where he and Watson interview Laura Lyons again, laying out Stapleton's duplicity - she has been unaware he is already married, and had planned to be his wife - and securing her help. She tells them that it was Stapleton who suggested she write to Sir Charles, then dissuaded her from keeping the appointment. Holmes says she is lucky to be alive.

He has sent for Lestrade, who arrives by the afternoon train, and they set their plans. They wait outside Stapleton's house that night until they see Sir Henry leave, then follow him as he is attacked by the hound, which Holmes and Watson both shoot dead. It turns out to be some gigantic hybrid of bloodhound and mastiff, and has been painted with phosphorus to give it a more supernatural, devilish look. Returning to the house to search for Stapleton, they find his wife tied up and badly beaten, the naturalist fled. It is accepted that he ran into the Great Grimpen Mire, as he is never seen alive again.

After the case

In the final chapter Holmes lays out a full explanation for what transpired, mostly centring on Stapleton's desire to gain the Baskerville inheritance. He was, the detective tells Watson as they discuss the case back in Baker Street some weeks later, the son of one of the other heirs, dead and believed never to have married, though he did. His wife he had met in South America, where he had been born, and while he may once have loved her, she was more his tool than anything else. He also used Laura Lyons, and the legend of the Hound to his advantage.

Sir Henry, distraught at how he has been played by Beryl Stapleton (in reality, one supposes, Beryl Baskerville) leaves to travel the world with Dr. Mortimer, hoping to regain his health - he slipped into a fever, both from the attack by the Hound and due to Beryl's betrayal of him - and his happiness. Nothing is mentioned of what happens to Beryl, an accomplice but perhaps an unwilling one, nor indeed Laura Lyons. Lestrade's presence has been all but unnecessary, as he's barely mentioned and figures little, even in the short part of the story in which he takes part.

[Trollheart]

How the case is solved:

Given this is a novel, and that Holmes' encapsulation of the case takes up the final chapter, I'm going to cheat and reproduce it here:

(Note: apologies for the poor justification; it's how it pasted in)

"The whole course of events," said Holmes, "from the point of view of
the man who called himself Stapleton was simple and direct, although to
us, who had no means in the beginning of knowing the motives of his
actions and could only learn part of the facts, it all appeared exceedingly
complex. I have had the advantage of two conversations with Mrs.
Stapleton, and the case has now been so entirely cleared up that I am not
aware that there is anything which has remained a secret to us. You will
find a few notes upon the matter under the heading B in my indexed list
of cases."
"Perhaps you would kindly give me a sketch of the course of events
from memory."
"Certainly, though I cannot guarantee that I carry all the facts in my
mind. Intense mental concentration has a curious way of blotting out what
has passed. The barrister who has his case at his fingers' ends and is able
to argue with an expert upon his own subject finds that a week or two of
the courts will drive it all out of his head once more. So each of my cases
displaces the last, and Mlle. Carere has blurred my recollection of
Baskerville Hall. To-morrow some other little problem may be submitted
to my notice which will in turn dispossess the fair French lady and the
infamous Upwood. So far as the case of the hound goes, however, I will
give you the course of events as nearly as I can, and you will suggest
anything which I may have forgotten.
"My inquiries show beyond all question that the family portrait did not
lie, and that this fellow was indeed a Baskerville. He was a son of that
Rodger Baskerville, the younger brother of Sir Charles, who fled with a
sinister reputation to South America, where he was said to have died
unmarried. He did, as a matter of fact, marry, and had one child, this
fellow, whose real name is the same as his father's. He married Beryl
Garcia, one of the beauties of Costa Rica, and, having purloined a
considerable sum of public money, he changed his name to Vandeleur
[762] and fled to England, where he established a school in the east of
Yorkshire. His reason for attempting this special line of business was that
he had struck up an acquaintance with a consumptive tutor upon the
voyage home, and that he had used this man's ability to make the
undertaking a success. Fraser, the tutor, died, however, and the school
which had begun well sank from disrepute into infamy. The Vandeleurs
found it convenient to change their name to Stapleton, and he brought the
remains of his fortune, his schemes for the future, and his taste for
entomology to the south of England. I learn at the British Museum that he
was a recognized authority upon the subject, and that the name of
Vandeleur has been permanently attached to a certain moth which he had,
in his Yorkshire days, been the first to describe.
"We now come to that portion of his life which has proved to be of
such intense interest to us. The fellow had evidently made inquiry and
found that only two lives intervened between him and a valuable estate.
When he went to Devonshire his plans were, I believe, exceedingly hazy,
but that he meant mischief from the first is evident from the way in which
he took his wife with him in the character of his sister. The idea of using
her as a decoy was clearly already in his mind, though he may not have
been certain how the details of his plot were to be arranged. He meant in
the end to have the estate, and he was ready to use any tool or run any risk
for that end. His first act was to establish himself as near to his ancestral
home as he could, and his second was to cultivate a friendship with Sir
Charles Baskerville and with the neighbours.
"The baronet himself told him about the family hound, and so prepared
the way for his own death. Stapleton, as I will continue to call him, knew
that the old man's heart was weak and that a shock would kill him. So
much he had learned from Dr. Mortimer. He had heard also that Sir
Charles was superstitious and had taken this grim legend very seriously.
His ingenious mind instantly suggested a way by which the baronet could
be done to death, and yet it would be hardly possible to bring home the
guilt to the real murderer.
"Having conceived the idea he proceeded to carry it out with
considerable finesse. An ordinary schemer would have been content to
work with a savage hound. The use of artificial means to make the
creature diabolical was a flash of genius upon his part. The dog he bought
in London from Ross and Mangles, the dealers in Fulham Road. It was
the strongest and most savage in their possession. He brought it down by
the North Devon line and walked a great distance over the moor so as to
get it home without exciting any remarks. He had already on his insect
hunts learned to penetrate the Grimpen Mire, and so had found a safe
hiding-place for the creature. Here he kennelled it and waited his chance.
"But it was some time coming. The old gentleman could not be
decoyed outside of his grounds at night. Several times Stapleton lurked
about with his hound, but without avail. It was during these fruitless
quests that he, or rather his ally, was seen by peasants, and that the legend
of the demon dog received a new confirmation. He had hoped that his
wife might lure Sir Charles to his ruin, but here she proved unexpectedly
independent. She would not endeavour to entangle the old gentleman in a
sentimental attachment which might deliver him over to his enemy.
Threats and even, I am sorry to say, blows refused to move her. She
would have nothing to do with it, and for a time Stapleton was at a
deadlock.
"He found a way out of his difficulties through the chance that Sir
Charles, who had conceived a friendship for him, made him the minister
of his charity in the case of this unfortunate woman, Mrs. Laura Lyons.
By representing himself [763] as a single man he acquired complete
influence over her, and he gave her to understand that in the event of her
obtaining a divorce from her husband he would marry her. His plans were
suddenly brought to a head by his knowledge that Sir Charles was about
to leave the Hall on the advice of Dr. Mortimer, with whose opinion he
himself pretended to coincide. He must act at once, or his victim might
get beyond his power. He therefore put pressure upon Mrs. Lyons to write
this letter, imploring the old man to give her an interview on the evening
before his departure for London. He then, by a specious argument,
prevented her from going, and so had the chance for which he had waited.
"Driving back in the evening from Coombe Tracey he was in time to
get his hound, to treat it with his infernal paint, and to bring the beast
round to the gate at which he had reason to expect that he would find the
old gentleman waiting. The dog, incited by its master, sprang over the
wicket-gate and pursued the unfortunate baronet, who fled screaming
down the yew alley. In that gloomy tunnel it must indeed have been a
dreadful sight to see that huge black creature, with its flaming jaws and
blazing eyes, bounding after its victim. He fell dead at the end of the alley
from heart disease and terror. The hound had kept upon the grassy border
while the baronet had run down the path, so that no track but the man's
was visible. On seeing him lying still the creature had probably
approached to sniff at him, but finding him dead had turned away again. It
was then that it left the print which was actually observed by Dr.
Mortimer. The hound was called off and hurried away to its lair in the
Grimpen Mire, and a mystery was left which puzzled the authorities,
alarmed the countryside, and finally brought the case within the scope of
our observation.
"So much for the death of Sir Charles Baskerville. You perceive the
devilish cunning of it, for really it would be almost impossible to make a
case against the real murderer. His only accomplice was one who could
never give him away, and the grotesque, inconceivable nature of the
device only served to make it more effective. Both of the women
concerned in the case, Mrs. Stapleton and Mrs. Laura Lyons, were left
with a strong suspicion against Stapleton. Mrs. Stapleton knew that he
had designs upon the old man, and also of the existence of the hound.
Mrs. Lyons knew neither of these things, but had been impressed by the
death occurring at the time of an uncancelled appointment which was
only known to him. However, both of them were under his influence, and
he had nothing to fear from them. The first half of his task was
successfully accomplished, but the more difficult still remained.
"It is possible that Stapleton did not know of the existence of an heir in
Canada. In any case he would very soon learn it from his friend Dr.
Mortimer, and he was told by the latter all details about the arrival of
Henry Baskerville. Stapleton's first idea was that this young stranger from
Canada might possibly be done to death in London without coming down
to Devonshire at all. He distrusted his wife ever since she had refused to
help him in laying a trap for the old man, and he dared not leave her long
out of his sight for fear he should lose his influence over her. It was for
this reason that he took her to London with him. They lodged, I find, at
the Mexborough Private Hotel, in Craven Street, which was actually one
of those called upon by my agent in search of evidence. Here he kept his
wife imprisoned in her room while he, disguised in a beard, followed Dr.
Mortimer to Baker Street and afterwards to the station and to the
Northumberland Hotel. His wife had some inkling of his plans; but she
had such a fear of her husband–a fear founded upon brutal ill-treatment
–that she dare not write to warn the man [764] whom she knew to be in
danger. If the letter should fall into Stapleton's hands her own life would
not be safe. Eventually, as we know, she adopted the expedient of cutting
out the words which would form the message, and addressing the letter in
a disguised hand. It reached the baronet, and gave him the first warning of
his danger.
"It was very essential for Stapleton to get some article of Sir Henry's
attire so that, in case he was driven to use the dog, he might always have
the means of setting him upon his track. With characteristic promptness
and audacity he set about this at once, and we cannot doubt that the boots
or chamber-maid of the hotel was well bribed to help him in his design.
By chance, however, the first boot which was procured for him was a new
one and, therefore, useless for his purpose. He then had it returned and
obtained another–a most instructive incident, since it proved conclusively
to my mind that we were dealing with a real hound, as no other
supposition could explain this anxiety to obtain an old boot and this
indifference to a new one. The more outré and grotesque an incident is
the more carefully it deserves to be examined, and the very point which
appears to complicate a case is, when duly considered and scientifically
handled, the one which is most likely to elucidate it.
"Then we had the visit from our friends next morning, shadowed
always by Stapleton in the cab. From his knowledge of our rooms and of
my appearance, as well as from his general conduct, I am inclined to think
that Stapleton's career of crime has been by no means limited to this
single Baskerville affair. It is suggestive that during the last three years
there have been four considerable burglaries in the west country, for none
of which was any criminal ever arrested. The last of these, at Folkestone
Court, in May, was remarkable for the cold-blooded pistolling of the
page, who surprised the masked and solitary burglar. I cannot doubt that
Stapleton recruited his waning resources in this fashion, and that for years
he has been a desperate and dangerous man.
"We had an example of his readiness of resource that morning when he
got away from us so successfully, and also of his audacity in sending back
my own name to me through the cabman. From that moment he
understood that I had taken over the case in London, and that therefore
there was no chance for him there. He returned to Dartmoor and awaited
the arrival of the baronet."

[Trollheart]

"One moment!" said I. "You have, no doubt, described the sequence of
events correctly, but there is one point which you have left unexplained.
What became of the hound when its master was in London?"
"I have given some attention to this matter and it is undoubtedly of
importance. There can be no question that Stapleton had a confidant,
though it is unlikely that he ever placed himself in his power by sharing
all his plans with him. There was an old manservant at Merripit House,
whose name was Anthony. His connection with the Stapletons can be
traced for several years, as far back as the school-mastering days, so that
he must have been aware that his master and mistress were really husband
and wife. This man has disappeared and has escaped from the country. It
is suggestive that Anthony is not a common name in England, while
Antonio is so in all Spanish or Spanish-American countries. The man, like
Mrs. Stapleton herself, spoke good English, but with a curious lisping
accent. I have myself seen this old man cross the Grimpen Mire by the
path which Stapleton had marked out. It is very probable, therefore, that
in the absence of his master it was he who cared for the hound, though he
may never have known the purpose for which the beast was used.
[765] "The Stapletons then went down to Devonshire, whither they were
soon followed by Sir Henry and you. One word now as to how I stood
myself at that time. It may possibly recur to your memory that when I
examined the paper upon which the printed words were fastened I made a
close inspection for the water-mark. In doing so I held it within a few
inches of my eyes, and was conscious of a faint smell of the scent known
as white jessamine. There are seventy-five perfumes, which it is very
necessary that a criminal expert should be able to distinguish from each
other, and cases have more than once within my own experience
depended upon their prompt recognition. The scent suggested the
presence of a lady, and already my thoughts began to turn towards the
Stapletons. Thus I had made certain of the hound, and had guessed at the
criminal before ever we went to the west country.
"It was my game to watch Stapleton. It was evident, however, that I
could not do this if I were with you, since he would be keenly on his
guard. I deceived everybody, therefore, yourself included, and I came
down secretly when I was supposed to be in London. My hardships were
not so great as you imagined, though such trifling details must never
interfere with the investigation of a case. I stayed for the most part at
Coombe Tracey, and only used the hut upon the moor when it was
necessary to be near the scene of action. Cartwright had come down with
me, and in his disguise as a country boy he was of great assistance to me.
I was dependent upon him for food and clean linen. When I was watching
Stapleton, Cartwright was frequently watching you, so that I was able to
keep my hand upon all the strings.
"I have already told you that your reports reached me rapidly, being
forwarded instantly from Baker Street to Coombe Tracey. They were of
great service to me, and especially that one incidentally truthful piece of
biography of Stapleton's. I was able to establish the identity of the man
and the woman and knew at last exactly how I stood. The case had been
considerably complicated through the incident of the escaped convict and
the relations between him and the Barrymores. This also you cleared up in
a very effective way, though I had already come to the same conclusions
from my own observations.
"By the time that you discovered me upon the moor I had a complete
knowledge of the whole business, but I had not a case which could go to a
jury. Even Stapleton's attempt upon Sir Henry that night which ended in
the death of the unfortunate convict did not help us much in proving
murder against our man. There seemed to be no alternative but to catch
him red-handed, and to do so we had to use Sir Henry, alone and
apparently unprotected, as a bait. We did so, and at the cost of a severe
shock to our client we succeeded in completing our case and driving
Stapleton to his destruction. That Sir Henry should have been exposed to
this is, I must confess, a reproach to my management of the case, but we
had no means of foreseeing the terrible and paralyzing spectacle which
the beast presented, nor could we predict the fog which enabled him to
burst upon us at such short notice. We succeeded in our object at a cost
which both the specialist and Dr. Mortimer assure me will be a temporary
one. A long journey may enable our friend to recover not only from his
shattered nerves but also from his wounded feelings. His love for the lady
was deep and sincere, and to him the saddest part of all this black
business was that he should have been deceived by her.
"It only remains to indicate the part which she had played throughout.
There can be no doubt that Stapleton exercised an influence over her
which may have been love or may have been fear, or very possibly both,
since they are by no means [766] incompatible emotions. It was, at least,
absolutely effective. At his command she consented to pass as his sister,
though he found the limits of his power over her when he endeavoured to
make her the direct accessory to murder. She was ready to warn Sir Henry
so far as she could without implicating her husband, and again and again
she tried to do so. Stapleton himself seems to have been capable of
jealousy, and when he saw the baronet paying court to the lady, even
though it was part of his own plan, still he could not help interrupting
with a passionate outburst which revealed the fiery soul which his self-
contained manner so cleverly concealed. By encouraging the intimacy he
made it certain that Sir Henry would frequently come to Merripit House
and that he would sooner or later get the opportunity which he desired.
On the day of the crisis, however, his wife turned suddenly against him.
She had learned something of the death of the convict, and she knew that
the hound was being kept in the out-house on the evening that Sir Henry
was coming to dinner. She taxed her husband with his intended crime,
and a furious scene followed in which he showed her for the first time
that she had a rival in his love. Her fidelity turned in an instant to bitter
hatred, and he saw that she would betray him. He tied her up, therefore,
that she might have no chance of warning Sir Henry, and he hoped, no
doubt, that when the whole countryside put down the baronet's death to
the curse of his family, as they certainly would do, he could win his wife
back to accept an accomplished fact and to keep silent upon what she
knew. In this I fancy that in any case he made a miscalculation, and that,
if we had not been there, his doom would none the less have been sealed.
A woman of Spanish blood does not condone such an injury so lightly.
And now, my dear Watson, without referring to my notes, I cannot give
you a more detailed account of this curious case. I do not know that
anything essential has been left unexplained."
"He could not hope to frighten Sir Henry to death as he had done the
old uncle with his bogie hound."
"The beast was savage and half-starved. If its appearance did not
frighten its victim to death, at least it would paralyze the resistance which
might be offered."

[Trollheart]

Comments:

I still find it amazing that this, the most famous and best-loved of Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, might never have been written. Had he succeeded in killing off his detective and not evoked a furious backlash from his public, had Holmes been allowed to lay forever at the bottom of the Reichenbach Falls, Doyle would have left it at that and moved on to other things. Not only would we not have had this story, but it, and other classics such as "The Six Napoleons", "The Abbey Grange", "The Dancing Men", "The Dying Detective" and "The Devil's Foot" would have been left crushed and broken and unborn next to the mangled corpse of the world's greatest and only consulting detective. It could in no way be said that Doyle's return to writing  Holmes stories - even if technically it was a forced one - was a mistake. Some of his best work, including this and his final novel, The Valley of Fear, only came about because of his public's voracious appetite for the detective's adventures and their refusal to let him stay dead. Quite remarkable, and I think also unique in the annals of literary fiction.

As for the story itself, well what can I say that has not already been written about this classic? It has everything: intrigue, murder, mystery, a scary bleak setting, avarice, a legacy, a curse, stalking, romance (of a sort) and it's also one of the few in which Watson gets the most page time, as it were. The mystery is lovingly crafted by Doyle, tantalising little scraps of information - Holmes' favourite "trifles" - dropped like breadcrumbs along the trail, looking as if they're of no real interest until finally the master weaver pulls - to use his character's own phrase - the threads together and we see the full design. It is, quite simply, a masterclass in detective fiction, and if no other story gave him the right to be one of, if not the world's greatest writer of mysteries, this one does. It's all but perfect.

Usually I can find, again to use Holmes' word, a thread to pull at, something that doesn't quite fit or seems wrong, but not this time. Everything slots together beautifully, and there really are no loose ends left to be tied up. Even the disappearance of Stapleton into the Great Grimpen Mire is ironic, as the place which has taken so many lives of the unwary, and which he has foolishly treated as his own domain, turns against him at the last and swallows him up, is appropriate. It's more realistic and more poetic than the man being arrested and tried, or even shot while trying to escape or something. Like every other piece of the story, it clicks into place perfectly, leaving not a rough edge to be seen.

Again, we can say the women are badly treated, and all three presented as, shall we say, negative characters: Mrs. Barrymore willingly flouts the law by helping her brother, knowing the police are looking for him and, further, knowing him to be a desperate man and a murderer, while Mrs. Stapleton, though she baulks at tricking Sir Charles and placing his life in danger, and lives mostly in fear of her husband, nevertheless helps him in his schemes, though there is some small redemption in her attempt to warn Sir Henry. As for Laura Lyons, she is the classic fallen woman. Abandoned by her feckless husband but still tied to him through Victorian law, she falls prey to Stapleton and is entirely taken in by him, also aiding him in his schemes. While none of these women could conceivably be described as being evil, they are none of them examples of "proper" English women, and so our old friend misogyny raises its nasty head again.

The Hound of the Baskervilles was of course a huge success, a triumphant return for Holmes (even if it is set before his so-called death at the Reichenbach Falls) and led to two more collections of stories featuring the famous detective, until Doyle was finally able to, if not kill him off, retire him gracefully, allowing him to aid in the war effort and serve his country one more time. If nothing else, the novel proves that the public were right, that Doyle had more Holmes in him, so to speak, and that the great detective's story was far from finished.

Like another famous nineteenth century story set on the moors, you can almost feel the cold, the bleak atmosphere surrounding the entire area, the desolate barren plains of grass and smell the stink as the marsh gas pops over by the Great Grimpen Mire. But whereas Emily Bronte was more concerned with romance in her classic, here there's little of that. In fact, what there is seems to me more a case of what Eddie Hitler once described in the series Bottom as "something for the birds". It comes across to me as a perhaps cynical ploy to try to pull in the female readers, and perhaps even trying to exploit the new female readership garnered by writers like Bronte and Austen. It certainly seems to me that, again, the story would have lost little if anything had Sir Henry not fallen in love, and in the end, what good does it do him?

The writing is first class, without question, and the descriptions given by Doyle through Watson of the moors are cleverly enhanced by the usage of the old neolithic huts, which almost makes the reader feel they've been transported back in time, to a much more wild era, when man was barely making his mark and everyone was an enemy. To put it in more modern parlance, it feels like you're on the moon, nor the moors of Devonshire. The story has a real cloud hanging over it from beginning to end: opening with an unexplained death/murder, going through another attempt at engineering murder and ending with a man almost driven insane and losing his lover, even if he retains his inheritance and, more importantly, his life. It's not, really, a book with any sort of happy ending. It ends not so much in triumph as in bleak success, and over everything frowns the dark, unforgiving uncharted expanse of the wild moors.

There's an echo of both the old and the new Doyle here, as Holmes remarks about the as-yet-masked (or even suspected) Stapleton, that he is "a foe more worthy of our steel than any we have faced," very similar to how he describes Moriarty in what was intended to be his last ever case. I can't help thinking Doyle is trying to re-evoke the memory of the professor and perhaps remind people how they arrived here - even though, at the time the novel is set, he has yet to meet, or perhaps even be aware of the presence of, the crime lord of London.

It's also curious to me, and a little endearing, that Holmes uses the pronoun "we" and "our" rather than "my" and "I". Up to now, if I recall correctly, he has been prone to regard all the cases as his, the reasoning and deduction being his of course, and Watson as something of a chronicler and occasional assistant - though he has more than once praised him as his ally and partner. Nevertheless, while some of his cases may be seen by him to be shared with his friend, generally, up to now, they've been considered as his, and this then is the first where he really acknowledges that Watson is not just accompanying and helping him, but taking an active part in the case. This is perhaps also shown when he entrusts both the safety of Sir Henry and the gathering of information - mostly - to Watson, whereas before he would have to have been making enquiries himself, and would likely have trusted nobody else to ensure the baronet's safety.

Is it fair to say The Hound of the Baskervilles is the pinnacle of Doyle's Holmes stories? I think it is. It's certainly his best, and his best-loved and best-known, though to call what follows filler or extraneous would be a grievous mistake, as some of his best work occurs after this, including the next - and last - powerful novel, The Valley of Fear. Does Doyle write like a man who has been forced to resurrect his most famous character, and produce these stories under duress? Not at all: in fact, whatever the truth of it may be, I personally feel that he may have ended up being grateful to his pushy public for insisting he bring Holmes back from the dead, as it inspired him to write so many more great stories. For probably the only time in literary history, I feel an author owes a great debt of gratitude to his readers for going against his will and ensuring that his most enduring character sleuth on for many years.

Perhaps, just perhaps, showing a slight weariness on Doyle's part at having to write a whole novel about the character he wanted dead, the opening scene, in which Holmes tasks Watson with gleaning all he can from Dr. Mortimer's walking-stick, which he has left behind, is an almost carbon copy of the pipe left behind by Grant Munro in "The Yellow Face", and has echoes too in the hat Holmes is studying in "The Blue Carbuncle." In both "The Yellow Face" and this novel, the client has arrived while Holmes and Watson have been out, and has impatiently left, vowing to return.

Character Study

For a novel, this has not a huge cast of characters, but the ones who are there are mostly supporting ones without much to say about them. In this I include the Barrymores, John and Eliza, who function mostly as a device to wrong-foot the reader, their concern being Selden the criminal, although the husband does put Watson on to the answer to the riddle of who "L.L." is. Mrs. Stapleton, despite being for a time a love interest for Sir Henry, and initially the one who tries to warn him against coming to the moors, is equally dispensable. Her part in the story has little real effect on it, and while we do get some of her history - she was a teacher with her husband at a school which closed, and though represented as his sister is in fact his wife - there's not much to tell.

Frankland is absolutely useless in the story, other than as a way to explain Laura Lyons' predicament, but she could have been the daughter of any man who cut her off angrily for marrying without his permission. Frankland's cantankerous nature and his desire to sue everyone in sight for no reason honestly annoys me; he adds nothing to the story and it would have survived quite well without him. Dr. Mortimer, despite being the one to bring the case to Holmes, does little either, and his obsession with skulls is frankly as annoying and pointless as is Frankland's preoccupation with the courts. It has no bearing at all upon the story, and does make me wonder if Doyle was intentionally padding it out for some reason. A letter from Mortimer, asking Holmes to investigate, would have done just as well and as I say, the story would be no worse without his presence.

Which really leaves us with only two, the main protagonist and antagonist, or to put it more basically, the killer and his target, both of whom I'll discuss now.

Sir Henry Baskerville: A man who has grown up most of his adult life in the far reaches of Canada, he's not quite the sort you'd expect for a country squire, or baronet. He scoffs at the legend, is quick to anger when things don't go his way, and falls for Beryl Stapleton perhaps too easily. She is, after all, the only young woman in the vicinity, so perhaps their coming together is a little contrived. Yet for all that, he's pretty quick to succumb to a fever when the Hound attacks him. I mean, yes it looked scary and for a moment he may have wondered if the legend was based in truth, but surely he's faced bigger and nastier animals in Canada? He kind of turns into something of a wuss by the end, travelling the world with the doctor to forget his troubles and recover. I have a problem with that: for one thing, the whole idea of his coming to Baskerville Hall was to help the area, now he's going off around the globe (surely a journey of a year if not more?) and leaving it in whose care? That of Barrymore? Perhaps there are some loose ends after all.

Jack Stapleton AKA Rodger Baskerville: A man of devious ways and a long criminal past, he comes from dark stock, the son of one of the disgraced Baskerville heirs, also called Rodger, who fled England and made his way to South America. Jack (as we will call him) married and came back to England, changed his name to Vandeleur, worked as a teacher until an epidemic put paid to that, changed his name again and came to the moors, where he sets about trying to claim the inheritance that isn't his by right. If he was ever in love with his wife, he soon fell out of love with her, beating and dominating her to make her party to his schemes. Despite all this, he is a celebrated naturalist, and as a result is very familiar with the Grimpen Mire, perhaps the only man who could walk there in safety.

Evidently a man who is not averse to using women, he moves on to Laura Lyons, seeing in her someone who can help further his plans to get rid of Sir Charles Baskerville, and in order to trick her into thinking he is single and so can marry her when her divorce is granted, he pretends his wife is his sister. It's quite a scheme he concocts with the dog and the paint, but as a naturalist perhaps not that fantastic. Being a Baskerville, even one in hiding, he of course knows about the legend of the curse, and uses it to his advantage. When his plans fall apart he  returns to the place which has been his shelter so many times, but this time his luck runs out as the fog makes it impossible for him to see where he is going, and presumably he falls into the marsh.

Better than you

There's no real involvement of the police at all. Holmes does call Lestrade  down, but to be honest he does little else than watch and then pretty much cowers on the ground while Holmes and Watson deal with the Hound. He's involved in the rescue of Mrs. Stapleton but after that he fades from the story, so really he might as well not have been there.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Using the ancient family legend of a huge hound that pursues members of the Baskerville family of Dartmoor, one of the heirs to the estate - unknown to be so at the time - engineers the death of the current baronet and attempts to kill his successor. He is foiled by Holmes and Watson, who discover his deadly trick and shoot his dog dead. He vanishes into the Dartmoor swamp, never to be seen again.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 10

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1 (Stapleton)
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 1 (Selden)
Historical: 1 (Sir Charles Baskerville)
Total: 3
Running total: 113

Famous Firsts

The first story written by Doyle since he tried to kill off Holmes; the first Holmes story to focus so much on Dr. Watson

Satisfied Customer(s)? Yes, if you consider your life being saved and your ancient family curse being laid to rest forever.

Self-referentials

Legal outcome (if any): Not entirely sure; is Mrs. Stapleton arrested?