Once again we must cancel an event: Watson’s Picnic, originally scheduled for June 11, because of that dastardly COVID-19.
We are instead planning a virtual picnic with a discussion of “Charles Augustus Milverton,” a gripping story of blackmail, burglary, and murder. Attendees are encouraged to bring their devices outside, weather permitting, and to enjoy picnic food while talking about the story and listening to presentations.
We ordinarily have our Blind Auction at Watson’s Picnic; we are working on the logistics of holding it over Zoom.
To avoid conflicting with a meeting of The Parallel Case of St. Louis, we have moved the date one week later: It will be held on Saturday, June 18. Details are on the Events page; keep an eye on that or our Facebook page for any changes or updates.
At our virtual meeting today, we had several fascinating presentations about “The Priory School” We also welcomed as a new member Rich Krisciunas (from Michigan!). As Rich is already a member of several Scions, he will skip the Egg phase and go straight to a full membership.
Physical distancing doesn’t have to mean social isolation. All interested guests are welcome to join us, as Rich did. The one advantage of the virus is that it is making it more common for us to meet Sherlockians from geographically distant locations!
The discussion of ”The Priory School” at our last meeting and the ill-treatment of Arthur, Lord Saltire, inspired one member to research the incidence of characters named Arthur in the Canon. The following is adapted from her presentation.
The Incidence of Arthurs in the Canon by Terri Zensen
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle used his own first name for characters who exemplified innocence, except for one case in which it was used as an alias by a very inventive forger.
1. The Priory School
Arthur, Lord Saltire: This young, innocent son of the Duke of Holdernesse is maligned and abducted by his half-brother, James Wilder, to force the Duke to break his estate’s entail. Arthur is not a developed character; his only real significance is his disappearance from his school, which causes Sherlock Holmes to be brought into the case. The Duke is upset at the headmaster for consulting Holmes, who sets off to discover the whereabouts of poor Arthur. Some odd cow tracks lead the Master to the resolution of the case.
2. The Bruce-Partington Plans
Arthur Cadogan West: This Arthur’s death brings Mycroft Holmes out of his usual haunts and into 221B Baker Street. Cadogan West’s death and the discovery of the missing submarine plans make the case a matter of national security. Arthur is blamed for the theft; fortunately for his reputation, Holmes is on the case. Then another man—Sir James Walter, the official guardian of the papers—is found dead. Col. Valentine attests that his brother’s honor had been compromised. Holmes finally unravels the case, saving both the country and the memory of poor Arthur Cadogan West.
3. The Beryl Coronet
Arthur Holder: Our next Arthur is accused of stealing the beryl coronet, left as collateral for a £50,000 loan. His father, Alexander Holder, the banker holding the treasure, wants his son prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Arthur remains silent even when imprisoned for the crime, trying to protect his cousin, Mary Holder, whom he saw passing the coronet to a confederate. Holmes discovers that the true culprit is Sir George Burnwell, a rakish friend of Arthur’s. Sir George was romantically involved with Mary, who has run away. The Master traces the gems—which, he learns after threatening Sir George at gunpoint, have been sold—and buys them back, returning them to Alexander Holder and clearing Arthur’s name.
4. A Study in Scarlet
Arthur Charpentier: This namesake is falsely accused of the killing of Enoch Drebber and Joseph Stangerson. This son of Madame Charpentier, keeper of a boarding house where the two men had stayed for several weeks, is a sub-lieutenant in Her Majesty’s Navy. Drebber’s attempt to force himself on Alice, Mme. Charpentier’s daughter, caused Arthur to take off after Drebber with a cudgel. Inspector Gregson arrests him for the murders. Holmes then unravels the scarlet thread—the tale of the Mormons and the true reason for the deaths of Drebber and Stangerson—and effects the arrest of the true culprit.
5. The Stockbroker’s Clark
Arthur Pinner: This is the one case in which a character named Arthur is not an upstanding citizen. Arthur Pinner convinces Hall Pycroft to abandon the position he is about to take up at the firm of Mawson and Williams in favour of taking a job as business manager of the Franco-Midland Hardware Company. Pycroft becomes suspicious about what is occurring and consults Holmes and Watson. The detective and his chronicler confront Pinner and discover the scheme: This man is not truly named Arthur Pinner but is, in fact, one of the notorious Beddington brothers, forgers and cracksmen who were recently released from prison. “Pinner”’s brother is posing as Hall Pycroft with the intention of absconding with bonds from Mawson and Williams.
So the only Canonical character named Arthur who is neither a crime victim nor a falsely accused innocent is not a true bearer of the name. This blog will leave any conclusions from these facts to those appropriately trained in psychology.
As part of our June meeting, your Gazetteer researched the inheritance issue behind the crime in “The Priory School” (and discovered a legal pastiche while she was at it). The following is adapted from her presentation.
Entails: What Are They, and What Did It Mean to Break One? by Janice M. Eisen
As recounted by Dr. Watson in “The Priory School,” Sherlock Holmes deduced that James Wilder, the Duke of Holdernesse’s illegitimate son, had plotted the kidnapping of young Lord Saltire in an attempt to force the Duke to break the entail on his estate and make Wilder his heir. Entails crop up in several of Holmes’s other cases: The Hound of the Baskervilles, “The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax,” and “The Missing Three-Quarter.” Entailment features prominently in 19th-century British fiction as well, such as the works of Jane Austen. Aficionados of Masterpiece Theater may also be familiar with entails from Downton Abbey. So it’s worth asking what an entail was, why it was so difficult to break, and why it existed in the first place.
An estate, no matter how large, soon dwindles to a patchwork of tiny parcels if it is divided equally among the landowners’ sons with each generation. Think about an estate split into 3 or 4 parts; in just a few generations, it will just be a bunch of tiny parcels.
The solution to that problem was primogeniture, the principle that the firstborn legitimate son inherits his parent’s entire main estate. (There were all kinds of possible complexities that we won’t get into here.) This idea dates back to Biblical times—see the tale of Jacob and Esau in Genesis 25—and it reemerged in feudal Europe. In England, by law all real estate passed to the eldest male descendant until 1540, when the Statute of Wills allowed landowners more control over who inherited. Primogeniture remained the legal default until 1925, and it continues to control the inheritance of titles of nobility even today. (Female children were given equal status for succession to the throne in 2015, but efforts to pass legislation to extend that equality to all peerages have failed.)
Allowing estate owners to alter their inheritance, however, meant that estates could be over-divided, as mentioned above, as well as giving rise to the possibility of inheritance disputes. There were also concerns that some dissipated spendthrift or gambler who inherited the estate might be tempted to sell it off to raise cash. So how could a man ensure that his family’s status would continue indefinitely? He established an entail (also known as a fee tail), a form of trust that legally prevented the estate from being sold or inherited by any but the eldest legitimate male heir, in perpetuity.
This was the problem faced by the avaricious James Wilder in “The Priory School.” As an illegitimate son of the Duke of Holdernesse, he was prevented by the estate’s entail from inheriting. As the Duke explained Wilder’s motives for kidnapping young Lord Saltire:
In his view he himself should have been heir of all my estates, and he deeply resented those social laws which made it impossible. At the same time, he had a definite motive also. He was eager that I should break the entail, and he was of opinion that it lay in my power to do so. He intended to make a bargain with me—to restore Arthur if I would break the entail, and so make it possible for the estate to be left to him by will. (PRIO)
Although the Duke claimed he couldn’t possibly meet Wilder’s demands, there would, in fact, have been several ways for the Duke to break the entail if he wanted to. Illegitimate children ordinarily couldn’t inherit land; however, if the Duke went through the legal procedure of “barring” [breaking] the entailment, he could then have changed his will to leave the estate to Wilder. That would, of course, have caused the scandal that the Duke was so desperate to avoid that he employed the unprincipled Wilder as his secretary. Even if the Duke had agreed to accede to Wilder’s demands, it is likely that a court would have voided the will on the grounds of coercion.
One problem frequently faced by heirs to great estates, in Victorian times and later, was lacking the means to maintain one’s land, but being barred from selling any of it to raise capital. This is the reason for the frequent appearance, in both fiction and real life, of the nobleman in search of a wealthy heiress to marry. Indeed, rich American families might bring their daughters to Europe for the purpose of marrying them into the aristocracy. (Edith Wharton depicts this scathingly in her 1913 novel The Custom of the Country.) In more recent times, high inheritance taxes have caused many of the great estates to be donated to the government.
As a non-lawyer, I don’t ordinarily go around reading the Real Property, Probate and Trust Law Journal. But in researching entails, I ran across a fascinating study of the law in the Holmes cases that involve them, as well as other adventures in which inheritance furnishes the motive: “The Game Is Afoot!: The Significance of Gratuitous Transfers in the Sherlock Holmes Canon,” by Professor Stephen R. Alton, published in that legal journal in 2011. I reproduce the abstract here:
This article presents a recently discovered and previously unpublished manuscript written by John H. Watson, M.D., and annotated by Professor Stephen Alton. Dr. Watson’s manuscript records an extended conversation that took place between the good doctor and his great friend, the renowned consulting detective Mr. Sherlock Holmes, regarding issues of gratuitous transfers of property—issues involving inheritances, wills, and trusts—that have arisen in some of the great cases solved by Mr. Holmes. This felicitous discovery confirms something that Professor Alton has long known: these gratuitous transfer issues permeate many of these adventures. Often, the action in the case occurs because of the desire of the wrong-doer to come into an inheritance, a bequest, or the present possession of an estate in land more quickly—perhaps by dispatching the intervening heir, beneficiary, or life tenant. Professor Alton has annotated this manuscript, providing extensive analysis of these issues and citations to relevant, contemporary authority in his footnotes.
Alton, Stephen R., The Game Is Afoot!: The Significance of Gratuitous Transfers in the Sherlock Holmes Canon (2011). Real Property, Probate and Trust Law Journal, Vol. 46, Spring 2011. Free PDF available.
Anyone who wishes to better understand the legal issues confronted by the Master should read Watson’s analysis and Alton’s annotations. They greatly improved the work you have just finished reading.
As a non-lawyer, I don’t ordinarily find myself reading the Real Property, Probate and Trust Law Journal. But in researching entails for a discussion of “The Priory School,” I ran across a fascinating study of the law in the Canonical cases in which inheritance furnishes the motive. The paper, written in the form of a pastiche, is titled, “The Game Is Afoot!: The Significance of Donative Transfers in the Sherlock Holmes Canon,” and was published in that legal journal in 2011.
This article presents a recently discovered and previously unpublished manuscript written by John H. Watson, M.D., and annotated by Professor Stephen Alton. Dr. Watson’s manuscript records an extended conversation that took place between the good doctor and his great friend, the renowned consulting detective Mr. Sherlock Holmes, regarding issues of donative transfers of property—issues involving inheritances, wills, and trusts—that have arisen in some of the great cases solved by Mr. Holmes. This felicitous discovery confirms something that Professor Alton has long known: these donative transfer issues permeate many of these adventures. Often, the action in the case occurs because of the desire of the wrong-doer to come into an inheritance, a bequest, or the present possession of an estate in land more quickly—perhaps by dispatching the intervening heir, beneficiary, or life tenant. Professor Alton has annotated this manuscript, providing extensive analysis of these issues and citations to relevant, contemporary authority in his footnotes.
Alton, S. (2011). The Game Is Afoot!:The Significance of Donative Transfers in the Sherlock Holmes Canon. Real Property, Probate and Trust Law Journal, 46(1), 125–171.
All Sherlockians will find it worthwhile to read Watson’s analysis and Alton’s annotations, especially those who want to better understand the legal issues confronted by the Master.
During the lockdown, your Gazetteer has played a lot of escape-the-room games on an iPad. These are basically what it says on the tin: The player is trapped somewhere and must solve puzzles and/or find objects in order to escape.
One day I downloaded a game called Alleys, which locks you inside a theme-park reconstruction of an English coal-mining town where, you soon learn, something mysterious and terrible once occurred. In addition to the usual tasks of the genre, you gradually discover pieces of the backstory as you play. It’s not a great game, but it is diverting and challenging without being too difficult, and the graphics are impressive. It was created by Shi-Chi Shen of Taiwan and is quite the accomplishment for a solo programmer.
Imagine my surprise when I learned that this English town was located in the Vermissa Valley, and the villains were called The Scowrers. Shen must be a devoted fan of the Master, because scattered throughout the game are Sherlockian references, and not just to The Valley of Fear. For example:
There are some clues that were left by someone described as a Pinkerton detective, but when you find them, these are the notes that accompany them:
Do not be misled: This is not a Sherlock Holmes game, and the storyline will win no awards, but I had fun both solving the puzzles and keeping an eye out for Canonical references.
Yes, Mycroft, we truly do hear of Sherlock everywhere.