The Mysterious World of Sherlock Holmes

by Bruce Wexler

  For Doyle, one way out of depression was to involve himself in a “cause.” The George Edalji case was the first of many. Edalji was a lawyer who had been convicted of the bizarre charge of cattle maiming in 1903. Conan Doyle discovered that the man’s eyesight was far too poor for a safe conviction, and in any case, the mutilations had continued after his incarceration. Edalji was acquitted in May 1907, and the case led to the establishment of the Court of Criminal Appeal, designed to correct other miscarriages of justice.

  Perhaps the most famous cause in which Conan Doyle became involved was the long-running Oscar Slater case. Slater, an immigrant German Jew, was convicted of the 1909 brutal murder of wealthy eighty-two-year-old Glaswegian widow Marion Gilchrist. It came to light that Gilchrist was almost certainly murdered by a member of her own (highly respectable) family. Oscar Slater, who led a disreputable life as a pimp and gambler, was framed for the crime to protect Scotland’s social elite. Complicity in this cover-up stretched into the very highest levels of the Scottish legal system. Conan Doyle studied the case thoroughly and published The Case of Oscar Slater in 1912. Despite a vigorous campaign to free the wrongly accused, Slater was to endure eighteen years’ hard labor before new evidence that Conan Doyle placed before British Prime Minister J. Ramsay MacDonald led to his release in 1927. Although £6,000 was paid in compensation to Oscar Slater for the appalling suffering he had endured, his name was never formally cleared, and the guilty parties were never brought to justice. Even so, Slater was enormously grateful to Conan Doyle for the quashing of his sentence in 1928, and wrote to thank the “breaker of my shackles.”

  George Edalji was one of several convicted, but innocent, men that Conan Doyle attempted to clear. By using Holmesian methods of deduction, Conan Doyle was able to prove that the Edalji’s eyesight was too poor to have committed his “crimes” at night.

  Another celebrated case in which Doyle played a leading part was the Oscar Slater affair. Convicted of murder, Slater had already spent eighteen years in jail when Conan Doyle secured his release in 1927. Conan Doyle presented the facts to the Prime Minister, Ramsay MacDonald.

  On September 18, 1907, Conan Doyle married Jean Leckie at St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster. In contrast to their clandestine courtship, the marriage was a very public affair, taking place in front of 250 guests. The happy couple moved to a new home, Windelsham, in Crowborough, Sussex, England, together with Arthur’s first two children from his marriage to Touie. Conan Doyle was to spend the rest of his life living in this house, keeping just a small pied a terre in London.

  Following his happy second marriage, Conan Doyle’s literary output was somewhat reduced. He wrote three indifferent plays, the staging of which involved him in heavy financial losses. Determined to recoup the money, Conan Doyle decided to write a play that would be a sure-fire success, one featuring his best-loved creation. The Stonor Case was based on the Holmes story “The Adventure of the Speckled Band.” (Published as “The Spotted Band” in the New York World, this was Conan Doyle’s favorite Sherlock short story.) The play, which featured a live python, opened at London’s Adelphi Theatre and received rave reviews, running for 346 performances. Conan Doyle’s losses were more than recouped. At this point, the author very wisely decided to retire from “stage work,” concerned that his great interest in this medium might involve further fiscal failure.

  Just like Holmes, Conan Doyle was to spend many happy years in proximity to the English South Downs, at Windelsham near Crowborough, Sussex.

  The next few years were happy ones, both personally and professionally. Jean and Arthur became parents three times. Denis Percy Stewart Conan was born in 1909, Adrian Malcolm Conan in 1910, and Jean Lena Annette Conan in 1912. Several more Holmes stories were published in the Strand, which also published stories about a completely new Conan Doyle character, Professor Challenger, between April and November 1912. The first Challenger novel, The Lost World, appeared in October 1912. A new book, The Valley of Fear was serialized in 1914 and 1915. It was the fourth and final full-length novel featuring Homes.

  Conan Doyle was involved in several public campaigns during this period. He became President of the Divorce Law Reform Union in 1909, and began to fight against the oppressive regime in the Belgian Congo. He also joined the campaign supporting a channel tunnel between England and France. Contemporary naval experts described this objective as a “Jules Verne fantasy.”

  A second North American tour took up most of the summer of 1914. The Conan Doyles arrived in New York aboard the RMS Olympic on May 27. Conan Doyle’s writings, especially his Sherlock Holmes stories, were popular in the United States and Canada, and Holmes plays that started their runs on Broadway toured the major cities of the entire continent. The tour was inspired by an invitation to Jasper Park from the Canadian Government, but he also took the opportunity to visit various places of interest in New York (including Sing Sing prison) before traveling on to Montreal, the Great Lakes, Fort William, Winnipeg, Edmonton, Niagara Falls, and Ottawa. His tour included the delivery of a lecture, “The Future of Canadian Literature,” which he gave in Montreal on June 4, 1914. Interestingly, Conan Doyle also gave his audience a glimpse into his own writing technique, stressing the importance of the author constantly improving his general knowledge with continual reading. He also read his own newly composed poem about the beauty of the Canadian wilderness, “The Athabasca Trail,” at the Canadian Club of Ottawa on July 2, 1914. The Conan Doyles set sail to return to Liverpool on July 4, aboard the RMS Megantic.

  A photograph of Jean Conan Doyle with the couple’s two young sons. Sir Arthur often carried the photograph with him.

  Even during these happy times, there was an undercurrent of looming danger in Conan Doyle’s writing. He was convinced that a European war was inevitable. His last stories have menacing echoes of German insurgency, and in “His Last Bow,” Holmes speak of the “east wind coming. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast” Like many informed men of his generation, Conan Doyle was extremely concerned that Britain was not militarily prepared for such a conflict. He was also apprehensive of how the country would deal with new German inventions, such as the submarine and airship. In February 1913, he wrote an article for the Fortnightly Review entitled “Britain and the Next War,” and the Strand published “Danger!” in July 1914. This was a warning of the potentially devastating effects of a wartime blockade. When war broke out in August 1914, Conan Doyle immediately offered to enlist, but was turned down once again. He was by now fifty-five. Ironically, he describes how Watson joins up with his “old service,” although the fictional doctor must be sixty-two. In 1916, Conan Doyle enlisted as a private in the Volunteer Battalion of the Royal Sussex Regiment. His daughter, Mary, also became involved in the war effort, volunteering at Peel House, where troops leaving for the front were served with home comforts.

  A copy of the first American edition of Doyle’s book warning Britain about the dangers of Germany’s foreign policies. It was published in 1913.

  Conan Doyle meeting with Houdini during an American tour of the 1920s.

  Throughout the conflict, Conan Doyle kept up a continual correspondence with the British military authorities, suggesting ways in which the lives of fighting men could be saved. These included issuing sailors with “inflatable rubber belts” and supplying front line fighters with body armor. Today, most of his suggestions seem obvious, but the authorities found his naïve enthusiasm little more than irritating. Only the young Winston Churchill wrote to thank Conan Doyle for his fresh ideas.

  Conan Doyle’s barrage of suggestions on how to save the lives of the military fell on deaf ears for the most part. Only Winston Churchill had the sense to thank him for his fresh ideas.

  Conan Doyle visited both the British and French frontlines in 1916, and was absolutely appalled by the awful bloodshed he witnessed, the “tangle of mutilated horses, their necks rising and sinking,” amid the remains of fallen soldie
rs. He wrote a series of articles about his experiences, The British Campaign in France and Flanders: 1914, which appeared in the Strand during from April 1916 to June 1917. The following year, the government was so concerned by the effect of his powerful writing might have that they censored his history of the campaign.

  As a rather strange footnote to Conan Doyle’s unstinting patriotism, the Germans were also quick to spot the morale-boosting values of his most successful creation. Fifteen Holmes films were released in Germany during the conflict.

  1917 saw the publication of another Holmes collection of stories that had appeared episodically in the Strand, when John Murray published His Last Bow. In contrast to The Valley of Fear, the book was very well received.

  Like so many British families, the Conan Doyles were to reap a terrible harvest from the war. Arthur’s eldest son, Captain Kingsley Conan Doyle, died from influenza aggravated by war wounds in 1918, while his brother, Brigadier-General Innes Doyle, succumbed to post-war pneumonia the following year. Conan Doyle also lost two brothers-in-law, including Malcolm Leckie, and two nephews in the conflict. “The Ma’am” also died in 1920. These multiple shocks had a very profound effect on Conan Doyle. He became obsessed with the occult and Spiritualism, and spent the enormous sum of over a quarter of a million pounds trying to prove that it was possible to communicate with the dead. This desire was undoubtedly fueled by his dreadful sense of loss, which must have been shared by millions, but he had maintained an interest in spirituality for many years, since his rejection of his Roman Catholic faith when he left school.

  His interest in spiritualism actually pre-dated these family tragedies. He had publicly declared himself to be a Spiritualist in 1916, in an article for the Spiritualist magazine, Light, in which he also announced his belief in communication with the dead. In 1917, he had also begun to lecture for the “cause.” But following Kingsley’s death, his attendance at séances became increasingly regular, and according to Conan Doyle, he heard the voice of his son on at least one occasion. Perhaps their controversial beliefs led the Doyles to draw even closer together as a family, and Conan Doyle’s mother moved south from Yorkshire to be near her son.

  Despite his wife’s initial repugnance for Spiritualism, which she considered “uncanny and dangerous,” Jean Conan Doyle began to share her husband’s beliefs after the war-death of her brother Malcolm. With her husband’s encouragement, Jean also began to explore her talent for “trance-writing.” Conan Doyle himself was particularly interested in the phenomenon of “spirit photographs” showing “ectoplasmic hands” and other apparitions. He himself appears in many photographs in this genre. His ultimate aim was to join the branches of the Christian church together in a “new church” whose main preoccupations would be contact with the dead and reunion of the dead with the living.

  Unfortunately, Conan Doyle’s strong desire for proof of the ethereal world resulted in public ridicule for his involvement in the affair of the Cottingley Fairies. Two young girls, Elsie Wright and her cousin, Frances Griffiths, had taken several photographs in July and September 1917 that seemed to show the girls surrounded by a crown of dancing fairies. Although the photographs were received with a good deal of skepticism, Conan Doyle gradually came to the belief that they were proof of a world peopled by fairies and other “little folk.” Although it may sound ridiculous to modern readers, a belief in fairies, elves, gnomes, and sprites was not unusual at this time. Conan Doyle’s own uncle, Richard (“Dick”) Doyle had made a name for himself illustrating fairy folk for Punch magazine and several books, including The Fairy Ring, a collection of Grimm’s fairy stories. Dick’s reputation for drawing the “little folk” grew, and author William Thackeray hailed him as the “new master of fairyland.” More bizarrely, the incarcerated Charles Doyle also filled page after page of his drawing notebook with fantasy figures, which he believed he was drawing from life.

  Conan Doyle and his wife Jean during their spiritualist period. They are seen here with Charles Richet, a renowned French spiritualist. The famous postcard shows Elsie Wright, a young girl from Yorkshire, pictured surrounded by fairies. Amazingly, Conan Doyle accepted this amateur fake as proof of the existence of these fey creatures.

  Frances Griffiths, Elsie Wright’s cousin, was also involved in the Cottingley Fairies affair. She is pictured talking to a gnome.

  Fueled by intense public interest, the Strand published the rather beautiful Cottingley photographs, and asked Conan Doyle to write an article about fairies for the Christmas 1920 issue. Conan Doyle believed that the photographs were genuine, and proved the existence of a parallel, spirit world, that brought a “glamour and mystery to life.” He expanded these views in his 1922 book, The Coming of the Fairies. Although many contemporaries were also convinced of the authenticity of the pictures, many others could not understand how the creator of the great logician, Sherlock Holmes, could be taken in by a transparent, girlish prank. The great author’s reputation suffered as a result. It was not until 1983 that Elsie Wright finally confirmed that the “fairies” she had photographed had been cut out of magazines and stuck on hatpins. Her confession also proved beyond contradiction that Conan Doyle had been duped by two schoolgirls.

  The mockery Conan Doyle suffered over the Cottingley Fairies episode did nothing to sway his belief in Spiritualism. He often spoke of his occult experiences, including touching phantom hands and conversations he had had with the dead. Between 1920 and 1930, the entire Conan Doyle family embarked on a worldwide crusade to further the Spiritualist cause. They visited Australia, Europe, South Africa, Kenya, and Rhodesia. In 1923, they traveled to the United States, attempting to start a new “Church of America.” The Conan Doyles toured the country, from east to west coast, preaching their cause and showing hundreds of their “spirit photographs.” Many of these had been taken by William Hope of Crewe, England, and by modern standards, appear to be nothing more than blatant and obvious fakes. The Conan Doyles made great efforts to counter the ingrained skepticism they were met with; “Nothing is as dogmatic as science,” Conan Doyle maintained. It was during this trip that he struck up a strange friendship with Harry Houdini, the famous illusionist. Both were completely fascinated by Spiritualism. But while Conan Doyle was completely engrossed with trying to prove the existence of the “spirit world,” Houdini was just as anxious to expose “mediumistic parlor tricks.” For a while they maintained a close relationship, but a rift developed and the ensuing squabble ended only with Houdini’s death in 1926.

  Conan Doyle wrote an immense number of books and articles, trying to prove the validity of his occult interests. With few exceptions, these were nothing more than a drain on his financial resources. Perhaps the most famous of these was The Land of Mist, a novel of psychic adventures, published in March 1925. Conan Doyle also opened a “psychic bookshop” and spirit museum on London’s Victoria Street, in the shadow of Westminster Abbey. Mary Doyle, Conan Doyle’s daughter from his first marriage, ran the shop. During this period, his Spiritualist beliefs were his all-consuming interest. “I might play with a steam yacht or own racehorses. I prefer to do this,” he said.

  Conan Doyle in later years, enjoying his pipe.

  The effect of his obsession with the occult was by no means entirely benign. Many members of his loyal public came to think of the famed author as foolish and credulous, and he lost several valued friends, including Sax Rohmer (the creator of Fu Manchu and the author of The Romance of Sorcery).

  Conan Doyle’s Spiritualist “work” brought in little or no money, and the family’s proselytizing crusades were expensive. In 1927, John Murray published the final collection of twelve new Holmes stories, The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes, which brought in some much-needed income. These stories were the second reincarnation of Holmes that Conan Doyle was obliged to make for financial reasons. He was thoroughly irritated by this necessity and asserted that the renowned detective would not reappear again in any circumstances whatsoever. The great detective’s “reti
rement” led to several elderly ladies writing to offer their housekeeping services.

  The family’s income was further bolstered in October 1928, when Murray published a collection of his Sherlockian oeuvre, The Complete Sherlock Holmes Short Stories. In June 1929, his non- Sherlockian work was also collected into a single volume and published by Murray as The Conan Doyle Stories. In July, they released what turned out to be Conan Doyle’s final collection of new fiction, The Maracot Deep and Other Stories. The income from these publications funded a renewed Spiritualist crusade. His final psychic tour, in the autumn of 1929, took him to Holland, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.

  Conan Doyle’s health had been on the decline through the 1920s (he had suffered several minor heart attacks) and seemed further undermined by the strain of this final tour and by a serious cold he had caught in Scandinavia. He had to be carried ashore on his return to England, and was subsequently diagnosed with angina pectoris. This proved to be a terminal condition, and he died the following year, at home at Windlesham, at 8:30 a.m. on Monday, July 7, 1930. He was seventy-one. As the man who had once been described as “the most prominent living Englishman” lay on his deathbed, his close and loving family surrounded him. Only Mary, his eldest daughter was missing. (This may well be telling. Recent work seems to indicate that a rift had grown up between father and daughter, possibly due to some pressure brought by his second wife. May was certainly cut out of a share in his royalties under the terms of his will.) His son, Adrian Doyle, commended his father’s bravery in the face of death, “I have never seen anyone take anything more gamely in all my life. Even when we knew he was suffering great pain, he always managed to keep a smile for us.” His final words were addressed to Jean, who had patiently nursed her husband for the final months of his life, “You are wonderful,” he said.