by Barry Cryer
1906
10 March
The Baker Street and Waterloo Railway opened today. Billy went but I didn’t. Instead I sat in the kitchen and watched the crockery rattle. It was either the Railway, or Prof. C. is assaulting another member of the press upstairs.
26 June
A Mr Sessions from the Daily Mail visited the professor today. I don’t think he even made it into the room before Prof. C. went for him and threw him down the stairs. I thought Mr H. was the very worst tenant in London. I think we have a challenger.
24 November
Billy and Annie were married today. If I had a son, I could not have wanted a more perfect day for his wedding. Bright sun and the most colourful flowers. Annie wore her mother’s veil and looked pretty as a picture. I half expected Mr H. and the doctor to turn up but it was not to be.
D. L. sent a telegram to celebrate the nuptials and I finally gave them their gift. Their copy of the lease for 221b.
POST OFFICE TELEGRAM
Received at:
Oxford Street Exchange, 23 November
Congratulations William and Ann. Always said you two would make a good match. Like me and Clara. Wait till you meet your new cousin! There is always a nest here for you lovebirds. Write soon. Uncle D. L., Manitoba
Another street scene. The woman in the centre is holding her baby as well as some washing that she would’ve taken in from one of her clients. This was a common practice among the working classes, alleviating their poverty.66 The man on the right is smiling, maybe at the sight of the woman on the left or perhaps at some private thought he is currently entertaining. The child is wearing the obligatory scarf – infant mortality due to hypothermia was rife at the time. As to the woman on the left, she appears to looking at something out of the picture. So with the best will in the world, I cannot help you there. Please notch it up as one of my few failures. If you’d be so kind! On the top of the picture there appears to be a security camera, but I think we can dismiss that supposition for obvious reasons.67
66 ‘Washington’ – a place name that derived from ‘Washing’ and ‘Tun’, the latter being a barrel in which washing was kept. Other synonyms being ‘Cask’ and ‘Firkin’ (not much used these days due to misunderstandings!).
67 The bucket has no handle – limiting its practicality one would think.
1907
23 January
I ventured to the Holborn Empire today. I tend to go out most days, now that Billy and Annie can take care of things. My rooms are not what they were since Mr H. and the doctor moved out. It is Hannah’s birthday next month and she is such a fan of Mr George Robey that I thought I would buy some tickets. Well, I had got no further than Oxford Street when a woman I recognised from the Tivoli (she knew the Two Bobs when there was only one of them) thrust a leaflet into my hand.
A little further down the street, I was given another leaflet.
Well, I didn’t even know there was a strike. What is the world coming to? Mr Gibbons’ shows are always such a jolly affair, it’s a shame to see them stopped in this way. I wonder if Bella Lomax has joined the picket line? They’d certainly not get through.
24 January
Hannah told me all about the strike. Mrs Turner’s daughter sometimes works at the Tivoli and apparently when Mr Gibbons asked Little Tich to defy the strike, he said that he was too busy learning a new cornet solo and could not tear himself away. Miss Turner then told Hannah that Marie Lloyd’s advice was to send for Wagstaff and Williams: The Yodelling Vicars. She said they could empty any theatre. Hannah saw them at Hawkins’ Music Hall once and said an old woman was trampled in the rush for the exits.
1910
7 May
As I sat at breakfast today, Martha brought me in the Morning Post. Lined with black, the inside pages revealed the King was dead.
I can remember only ever twice before having had such a shock. The day they told me about you, Arthur, and the day Mr Mycroft Holmes told me about Mr H. disappearing.
Martha told me that the King only had a bronchitis attack the day before. How quickly these things happen. It made me think of Hannah, who is not very well at the moment and who I must visit in the morning.
8 May
Almost everyone I see is dressed in black today, just as it was for the Queen’s funeral. We thought she was going to live forever and now the King has left us too. I do believe he did some good, though, and was a tonic for the nation. If he did some of the things that people say he did, well, that’s none of our business. He made us all smile and that is the important thing.
17 May
The King is now in Westminster Hall. When I visited Hannah today, I told her that Lillie Langtry and Sarah Bernhardt might be at the funeral and wondered what Queen Alexandra might think. Hannah said that Alexandra was probably just delighted to know where her husband was for a change. I think Hannah must be feeling better.
19 May
Billy and Annie returned from Westminster Hall this afternoon. I could not believe how long they had been away, but Billy told me half the world was there. Annie said that the other half will be at the funeral tomorrow. The coffin had beautiful wreaths on it but Annie was most excited by the crown, the garter, the orb and the sceptre that sat on top. They say it was hard work and the nation’s burden that killed him. Hannah said it was something else that killed him yesterday and I don’t mind how well she is feeling, there is no call for that.
20 May
I felt strong enough to join Billy, Annie and Martha in honouring our King today. What a spectacle it was. London was filled with hundreds of people who had been waiting since it was dark to get their place on the street. By the time we had taken a position near Whitehall, it was near ten o’clock and the procession was nearly with us. I was able to see the coffin with eight horses in front, covered with a Union Jack and the crown and regalia that Billy and Annie mentioned. This was followed by the King’s horse with nobody riding – just his boots in the stirrups. I thought this rather sad until the King’s little dog Caesar came along, led by a Highlander. I do not care much for dogs, but there was this little thing frisking and yapping at the crowd so much that Billy and I began to laugh at the silliness of it all. Then came King George, the Kaiser, the Duke of Connaught and seven other Kings that I did not know the names of.68 Martha thought that the Kaiser looked rather pompous as the crowd cheered Caesar, with Billy joking that they must have got their names mixed up in the processional order. As we walked home, I could not help spare a thought for dear old Queen Alexandra who had to sit in her coach and watch it all, one slow step at a time.
Eureka! This is Hannah Brayley in an uncharacteristically serious pose (or do we detect the hint of a playful smile?) at the door of her residence. With her skittish behaviour, she seemed to act as a catalyst for Mrs Hudson – a practising catalyst you might say! The echoes of the laughter she provoked resound through the years. Mrs Brayley subsequently lost a leg in an accident but, undeterred, regaled customers with her impression of the newly infamous Long John Silver, complete with crutch and parrot. I venture to think that she was the Ann Widdecombe of her day!
And with our final picture I bid adieu to you dear reader, and embark upon the next exciting leg of the Philpott adventure, where my motto is – wherever the wind may take you, just float along and enjoy the view.
Oliver Philpott
Crawley, 2011
NOTE
This book is now dedicated to our researcher, Oliver Philpott, who, after completing his duties was reported missing. Details of his disappearance are unclear, though it is believed that in the course of researching The Effect of the Eighteenth-Century Whaling Industry on the Development of the Corset 1707–1821, his work took him to the Arctic. His empty kayak was last seen drifting among ice floes off Greenland.
‘Oliver Philpott? A constant visitor.’
Sir Hadlee Caincross, Chairman of the National Archives, Kew.
Oliver Philpott 1963–2012
68 The procession did in fact include Kaiser Wilhelm II, Emperor of Germany, who barely a decade later was disgraced and living in exile in Holland, and George I, King of the Hellenes, who was assassinated in 1913 by a drunken vagrant whilst walking in Thessaloniki. His son, Constantine, Duke of Sparta, was also at the funeral and succeeded George, but was exiled twice before dying prematurely. It is interesting to note here that Constantine’s successor, Alexander, died in 1920 after monkeys attacked his dog and, while defending his animal, he received a bite that turned to septicaemia. Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was there – as any schoolboy or schoolgirl (even these days) might be able to tell you, he was assassinated in 1914, an incident that occurred in the proverbial powder keg that was the Balkans of the time and directly contributed to the start of the First World War. This, of course, was a conflict that accounted for the deaths of nearly 9 million people. Prince Michael Romanov was also at Edward VII’s funeral, and he would be murdered along with his family at the hands of the Bolsheviks during the Russian Revolution. Albert, King of Belgium, Alfonso, King of Spain, and Manuel, King of Portugal along with the aforementioned Constantine were all exiled. Ferdinand, King of Bulgaria merely abdicated.
V
The east wind comes 1912–14
1912
17 September
Martha received a letter today from Mr H., no less. I cannot quite believe it but she tells me a position has become available with a Mr Von Bork in Harwich and that Mr H. has personally put her name forward. How did he know that we had an elderly aunt who lived in the town?
I had not for one minute expected Martha to do anything other than stay at 221b for the rest of her days, but it seems she is going to meet Mr H. at Claridge’s to discuss the post.
I do wish he would visit.
19 September
Martha has been my maid here from the very beginning, so a very important person is leaving us. I am rather upset with Mr Holmes, I have to say, but I suppose every bird must fly one day.
The strange thing is that ever since seeing the Kaiser at the King’s funeral, she’s thought all Germans to be rummy old coves. I hope he will pay her more than I did.
1914
30 July
Billy and Annie signed the lease this morning and we had something of a party to celebrate our exchange. I feel very sure that 221b is now in good hands. Much leg twisting in the kitchen and I had to lie down for the remainder of the day.
31 July
A fearful headache this morning. It felt best if I gained some air to clear my thoughts. Besides, Billy and Annie will want to get started on their new life without me cluttering their feet. I took the omnibus to the Strand and decided to take a walk along the Thames. I would have ventured to Clerkenwell but I fear yesterday has quite tired me out. So I sat on a bench in Victoria Embankment Gardens and watched a Linley brick barge float by. On its way to Bermondsey no doubt. Where it all began for me. Where it all began for you, too, Arthur. It might even have been the same barge that you used to collect lime from; in fact, I’m certain of it. You felt sure that one day you would own that company. Perhaps you might have done, my sweet. You seemed so confident in everything that was to come for us and you used to say that anything was possible here. How sad you would be now to see London as it is. I do not like that you didn’t get to share in all the adventures in Baker Street, my dear Arthur, with Mr H. and the doctor. I have a feeling that you might have thought them both entertaining. How they have helped this country in ways that we will never know. I look at the soldiers in the park and I realise that we may need them now more than ever. I looked at London today and wondered if it will be the same again.
This is the first time I have written my diary away from my kitchen. I don’t know why but I did not think I wanted to write this evening. I want to finish my polishing, sit in the corner of the kitchen and watch the embers fade.
The sun is shining and now the rain has finished, the air smells sweeter. The walk back to Baker Street is always pleasant.
Goodnight Arthur, my dearest, wherever you are.
Index
Adler, Irene 1, 2
Adler, Larry 1, 257
Alcott, Mary 1
Annie 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
‘Baker Street Irregulars’ 1, 2
Baskerville family 1
beef tea 1
bees 1, 2
Billy and Annie 1, 2, 3, 4
and ‘Baker Street Irregulars’ 1
and Bella Lomax 1
and death of Edward VII 1
and death of ‘Mr Disraeli’ 1
and death of ‘O’Connell’ 1
goes to work for Mrs Hudson 1
grows up 1
and intruders 1
and Mrs Hudson’s dream 1
and Oscar Wilde 1
and Professor C. 1
and return of Holmes 1
signs lease 1
and the underground 1
biography of Mrs Hudson 1
bluing 1
Boer War 1
Bowman, Nellie 1
boxing 1, 2, 3
Branscombe, Elaline 1
Brayley, Hannah and Baskervilles 1
and boxing 1
buys chaise longue 1
and Cavanaugh’s Music Hall 1
and death of Ann 1
and Diamond Jubilee 1
and disappearance of ‘Mr Disraeli’ 1
and fallen women 1
and George Robey 1
and Gladstone 1
health of 1
and intruders 1
loses a leg 1
and Mrs Hudson’s dream 1
and Mrs Turner 1
and music hall strike 1
and Oscar Wilde 1
photograph of 1
points up at the rooftops 1
and Professor C. 1, 2
sayings of 1
and séances 1, 2
and suffragettes 1
talks into pillar box 1
and tipsy cake 1
and wirelesses 1
and ‘Ye Grapes’ pub 1
Brixton 1n
‘Brooklyn Hellcats’ 1
Brown, John 1
‘Bruin’ (dancing bear) 1
butcher’s shop 1
C., Professor 1, 2, 3, 4
calling cards 1, 2, 3, 4
Campbell, John 1
Cantlemere, Lord 1
Cavanaugh’s Music Hall 1
Charpentier, Madame 1, 2, 3
Chestnut Charlie 1, 2
Chinatown 1n
chocolate-coated madeleines 1
Churchill, Winston 1
Clara 1, 2
Cole, Cheryl 1, 2
collars 1, 2
Collins, Wilkie 1
Crumbrooke, Lord 1n
‘Crusaders’ 1
curried chicken 1
Daily Mail (newspaper) 1, 2
‘Daughters of the Revolution’ 1
death of Mrs Hudson 1
Diamond Jubilee 1
Disraeli, Benjamin 1, 2n, 3
‘D. L.’ and Billy 1
and butcher’s shop photograph 1
and Canada 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
and Clara 1, 2
and hiatus of Mrs Hudson 1
and John Campbell 1
and May Day parade 1
and Molly Rifkind 1
returns to London 1
and smoking 1
visits Mrs Hudson 1, 2, 3, 4
Dobbes, Mr 1
Edward VII, King 1
fallen women 1
Ferdinand, Archduke Franz 1n
Ferrier, Michaelene (‘Fireworks Ferrier’) 1
Fortesque, Alexandra 1
Freemasonry 1
Gerschenko, Yuri 1
Gest, David 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 202, 299, 458
Gibbons, Mr 1
Gillespie, Jack 1
Gladstone, William Ewart 1
Glossop, Mr and Mrs 1
graphology 1
‘Great
Bilbo’ 1
‘Great Hiatus’ (of Sherlock Holmes) 1
‘Great Mysto’ 1, 2
Gregson, Inspector Tobias 1, 2, 3, 4
Gresham, Mrs 1
Grimaldi, The ‘Great’ 1
‘Hairy Carey’ brothers 1
handwriting of Mrs Hudson 1
hiatus of Mrs Hudson 1
