"I have had some small success with injections of morphine," I said. "I have nothing else."
"Then by all means try the injections, doctor. I had hoped that the prince might come to himself long enough to remember something — anything — that would help me with this, but ..." He handed me the following.
I stared at the meaningless rows of consonants in bewilderment. "This is the latest message from the President of the United States?"
Holmes nodded. "I believe so. Certainly it is on American paper, was stored in a locked inner drawer of the prince's desk, and is obviously in code."
"Then what had the prince lost? Or was that merely a delusion of his illness?"
"Far from it, doctor. What he had lost — to be precise, what Count Hoffenstein carried away with him — is the key to this and all such communications from the American president. The prince kept it, as he said, in an inner pocket, and had no doubt just taken it out in order to read this message with its aid when the count forced his way past Hans and entered.
P
M
B
F
D
R
C
S
T
C
N
R
W
N
T
D
H
S
T
V
S
N
C
Y
C
R
S
S
S
G
N
R
R
F
N
T
W
H
D
R
h
S
L
B
D
R
T
G
T
H
C
T
K
F
M
R
M
T
N
H
N
N
T
T
P
H
R
S
M
C
P
N
T
T
R
M
P
N
L
T
Y
N
V
W
T
N
L
T
B
N
C
C
D
N
F
C
G
V
H
D
J
K
N
L
M
L
N
P
B
Q
R
S
R
T
T
V
Y
W
X
W
W
"Whether or not the count knew that the prince had, moments before, received this page from the president I do not know, thought I should think it highly likely. Certainly he used the prince's near delirium to remove the paper from wherever the prince had hastily shoved it — child's play for a man like the count."
I looked again at the page I held, with no more enlightenment than before. "What on earth would the key to this be like?"
"A page of lightly transparent paper of the same size and shape and with the same squares ruled on it, but with the random letters that are added as mere disguise blacked out. By placing that page over this, one can see at once the letters that form the true message."
"There are no vowels," I pointed out.
"Not necessary." Holmes scribbled on a notepad and handed it to me. "Can you read that?"
He had written HLMSNDWTSN.
"Holmes and Watson," I said.
"Precisely."
I stared back at the page of filled squares. "Without the key is it hopeless?"
"I won't concede that, doctor. It is only the pressure of time that worries me. At least we do start with some advantages."
"I can see none, Holmes, absolutely none."
Holmes tapped the top left and bottom right of the page. "We know that this is a personal message from the American president to the German chancellor. Since the first two letters here are PM and the last WW, surely it is probable that these stand for Prince Max and Woodrow Wilson."
"That is not much."
"There are other assumptions that we can, I think, safely make. For instance, since the prince is fluent in English and the president not in German, almost surely the language used is English. Also, though the two are naturally of the highest political status, they are amateurs in the employment of codes. Therefore the device selected is apt to be simple.
"Further, even sending such pages as this between them is becoming increasingly difficult to arrange safely: Count Hoffenstein will not be the only spy on the watch along the route. Therefore the same code will most probably have been meant for all their covert communications, meaning that ample space will have been allowed. You will note that the last three lines of the squares on this page have the consonants interspersed in regular alphabetical order, from B to X. That almost surely indicates that the message is contained in only the first eight lines.
"We're not beaten yet, doctor. Not while we both have work to do."
With that I certainly agreed, though heaving a deep sigh at our chances of success. I returned to the prince, who was struggling to get out of bed, and administered a small dose of morphine.
Though this quickly quietened him, he still had periods in which his whole body jerked, his eyes fluttered uneasily, and he would cry out thickly, "Where ... where ... where ..." as long as he could find breath. These symptoms ceased after the second
injection, but his breathing became increasingly strained, his face even more flushed,, his skin burning. He was, for good or ill, nearing the crisis of his illness.
Hans was invaluable during these hours, doing unquestioningly whatever I bade. Even when, all else seeming to be failing, I turned to that simple nursery remedy of alternating hot and cold fomentations high on the chest and low on the back, for an hour at a time.
When not actively engaged in such tasks, Hans stretched out at the foot of his master's bed, alert to the smallest move or sound. I dozed in a chair by the fire; if my waking thoughts were on my patient, those in my moments of haze were filled with an endless parade of consonants.
Concede that the secret message began with "Prince Max," yet what words or words was hidden within bfdrcstcn that completed the first line? Certainly nowhere in the message had I been able to decipher either the Kaiser's name or title, and yet I would have expected that Queen Victoria's deluded grandson would be a major topic of such a message.
For, as long as he refused to accept the reality of Germany's sure defeat, and as long as the officer corps retained their steadfast devotion to their oath of loyalty (how praiseworthy a trait had only the man and the cause been worthy!), the war would continue, for weeks, even months. Literally buckets of blood would pour forth in every dressing station across the front, and that would be only from those who survived long enough to be brought to such medical oases.
Sometime toward evening I went back into the office to tell Holmes of the prince's continuing struggle: like the world, he was in but not yet through the darkest hour. I found Holmes still seated at the desk, still frowning down at that page of lettered squares, and above him swirled the blue smoke of his pipe. I returned to the bedside.
Near evening, following more hot and cold fomentations, the prince's breathing
eased. Could I hope that he would shortly rouse enough to be able, even briefly, to assist Holmes? Dare I try to force my patient to that point? I decided the risk was not worth it: the prince was too ill, my faith in my friend too great. Instead I administered another dose of morphine.
As the second dawn brought a trace of blue to the sky's
blackness, Hans woke me, tears of joy streaking his old face, and led me to the prince's bedside. The drugged coma had faded into genuine slumber, the chest rose and fell naturally, the cracked lips were tinged with a normal pink. The Chancellor would recover.
I hastened to tell Holmes the good news, and found the office and the adjacent rooms all deserted. The guard in the antechamber told me that "the other English Herr" had gone out hours ago.
Did that auger well or not? Who could say?
In a couple of hours the prince awoke with that weak and unquestioning acceptance of everything that marks the early recovery from serious illness. I wanted to order a bowl of gruel for him, but Hans would have none of it: his master hated gruel and should have hot bread and milk, made as only Hans could make it, with honey.
"And coffee, please," the prince murmured, a clasp of the hand showing his gratitude for his old servant's devotion.
I willingly agreed, and was myself devouring sandwiches when Holmes walked in unannounced.
"I am pleased to see you better, Your Highness," he said to Prince Max with his customary calm. "May I put on the wireless? An announcement from the palace is expected momentarily."
We waited motionless, all four, as the moments that seemed like hours passed. Then the music — one of the more sombre selections of Bach, as I recall — was abruptly cut off, and in hushed tones a man's voice stated that the Chancellor, Prince Max of Baden, had just issued a statement: His Most Gracious Majesty Kaiser Wilhelm II had abdicated, and all the royal princes agreed to renounce the throne in the cause of peace.
Prince Max and Holmes exchanged a long and ultimately understanding gaze. At last with a little sigh the prince said, "So His Majesty wouldn't see you, either. Even at the last."
"What can you expect", I said, with the bitterness of four years, "from a man who has never been in battle and who yet would sport a huge golden helmet?"
The prince gave a small smile. "Spoken like a true Englishman, Dr Watson. I am greatly relieved at what you have done, Mr Holmes, for I fear that I could not have. Necessary though I can see that it was."
"I think you would have done so, Your Highness, if you had seen the growing turmoil in the streets and also read the message from President Wilson."
Slow and painful memory grew in the prince's tired eyes. "I had asked what the terms would be for the end of the war and had just had his reply — I remember that, though I had had no time to decipher the message when the count arrived. You found the key to the code, then, Mr Holmes? Where was it?"
"I fear in Count Hoffenstein's pocket,Your Highness."
The prince passed a weak hand across his face. "Somehow I am not surprised. We have never been intimate, yet he shook my hand so heartily before leaving! No doubt in order to remove the key that I had pushed under the blotter on my desk. However did you manage to read the message, Mr Holmes?"
"With more effort than it should have taken, Your Highness. The trick in making out such a code, you understand, is to run through all possible combinations of the letters, adding vowels as required, until words are formed.
"All I could see at first was score, shortly extended to fourscore. I couldn't imagine President Wilson using such arcane language, yet I could make nothing else out from the first letters. Then I realized that the squares unneeded for the message had not been filled at random, as is usual, but with words that, while not part of the communication to Your Highness, yet meant much to the President of the United States. What would such a man at such a time quote that begins with fourscore?"
" 'Fourscore and seven years ago,' " Prince Max promptly began, " 'our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation — ' "
" 'Conceived in liberty,' " Holmes finished.
"The start of the Gettysburg address!" I exclaimed.
"I could have told you that and saved much time and trouble," the prince observed sadly, "if I had been able."
"That could not be helped, Your Highness. When the consonants of the address are taken out, what remains are those that form the president's message, his reply to your question as to what would be needed to end the war. 'Abdication without succession. Renewed Allied attack imminent. Prompt reply vital.' "
" 'Prompt reply'!" the prince breathed, "and I was delirious!
Mr Holmes, very many owe you great thanks. Did you have any difficulty in convincing the chief of our wireless services that your order came from me?"
"Oh, I have friends everywhere," Holmes replied vaguely. "Also I had taken the liberty of usingYour Highness' stationery."
And, I was sure, of forging the prince's handwriting with mastery skill.
"The last time I called on the Kaiser," Prince Max observed sadly, "he sent out word that he couldn't see me as it was already seven o'clock and he was late in dressing for dinner. It was then five minutes past midnight. I fear it has been five minutes past midnight for my poor country for a long time, Mr Holmes. What is the date?"
"The tenth of November, Your Highness. All should be concluded tomorrow."
"Hans, champagne." We raised our glasses. "To the eleventh of November," Prince Max said with tears in his eyes. "May the world never forget."
That is why I pen these lines, so that the part that Sherlock Holmes played in those final days may be known to all. May the world never forget.
After this case Holmes retired again to his cottage in Sussex. Watson paid him the occasional visit but they were both now in their seventies and travelling became tiresome. By 1926 Watson had finished compiling the last of his notes. The final published story, "Shoscombe Old Place" appeared in the March 1927 Strand Magazine. Watson died soon after, but Holmes's remarkable constitution kept him active well into the 1930s. It is somewhat bizarre that no death certificate exists for Sherlock Holmes, but I do know that his cottage in Sussex was sold in August 1939, just before the outbreak of the Second World War. Holmes was, by then, about eighty-six and is unlikely to have been involved in any further war-time investigations, but the fact that his death is not recorded in the United Kingdom is suggestive that, just before the outbreak of War, he emigrated. Where to and why I do not know. No doubt he had decided it was time for one last great adventure.
Appendix I: A Complete Chronology of Sherlock Holmes Cases
There have been many attempts at producing a definitive chronology of Sherlock Holmes's career, and whilst they may agree on some things many also beg to differ. This list is probably no different in that respect, but it is what I believe to be the position so far as I know it.
The list covers all known cases in which Holmes was involved, and attempts to date them as accurately as possible. The stories in bold print are the sixty stories in the original Doyle canon. Those in italics are the unrecorded cases noted by Watson. Where these cases have been written up by others their authorship is noted. Those in normal roman print are new (i.e. apocryphal) cases, not mentioned by Watson, but subsequently identified by others as found amongst Watson's papers. This last list is not exclusive, as I have deliberately left out those cases which concentrate on other characters (e.g. Irene Adler, Billy the Page, Inspector Lestrade, Moriarty or Mrs Hudson) or which are very evident spoofs and not to be taken seriously, such as involvement with fictional characters created by others, like Dracula or Fu Manchu. There are also many minor pastiches that weren't worth listing plus, I am sure, many others of which I don't have copies.
The stories included in this anthology are shown in small capitals.
1853/4
Sherlock Holmes born. In "His Last Bow" (a case which began in 1912) Holmes is described as "a man of sixty". No location is given in the canon.
/> 1872
Likely date at which Holmes goes to college. No college is mentioned in the canon although research suggests that Trinity College, Dublin and Oxford are the most likely.
1873/4
Likely date of "The Gloria Scott" (Holmes talks of his "two years at college"). This was the case that Holmes states first turned his attention to the idea of detection as a profession. Also the dating of "The Affray at the Kildare Street Club" and "The Bothersome Business of the Dutch Nativity."
1875
Holmes became aware of the puzzle of "the disappearance of James Phillimore" though the case was not concluded until 1906. Note also the apocryphal cases written as "The Highgate Miracle" by John Dickson Carr and set in December 1893, though this date is clearly wrong, and "The Case of the Vanishing Head-Waiter" by June Thomson.
1877
Holmes settles in rooms in Montague Street, London, spending most of his time studying various branches of science. "Now and again" cases came his way. He does not mention the first two but the third was "The Musgrave Ritual", likely to have happened in 1878.
1878/80
Holmes investigates many cases, only a few of which are referred to. These include "The Tarleton Murders", "Vamberry, the Wine Merchant" [written up by A. Lloyd Taylor]; "The Adventure of the Old Russian Woman" [written up as "The Case of the Old Russian Woman" by June Thomson], " The Singular Affair of the Aluminium Crutch" [written up by several writers including H. Bedford-Jones], and "Ricoletti of the dub-foot and his abominable wife". Other stories may be set at this time, especially those listed in "The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire" where Holmes's comments suggest thatWatson was not aware of the cases. These include "Victor Lynch the Forge', "Venomous Lizard or Gila", "Vanderbilt and the Yeggman" [written up as "The Case of the Itinerant Yeggman" by JuneThomson but dated June 1895 and to which she adds a sequel, "The Case of the Maplestead Magpie"] and "Vigor, the Hammersmith Wonder" [written up as "The Case of the Hammersmith Wonder" by June Thomson but set in the early days with Watson; it is also incorporated in "The Case of the Paradol Chamber" by Alan Wilson]. In "The Speckled Band" Holmes is reminded of the case of "Mrs Farintosh and the Opal Tiara" which was "before your time Watson". Also to this period may be the cases referred to in "The Empty House", especially "Mathews, who knocked out my left canine in the waiting-room at Charing Cross", since Holmes needs to explain it to Watson, and perhaps also "Merridew of Abominable Memory". Mortimer Mabley, referred to in "The Three Gables" was also one of Holmes's earliest clients.
The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures Page 63
