Now that Spring is upon us, it’s nice to have a few warm sunny days interspersed with our English rain. Does it ever stop raining in England? It may not seem so, but I promise you, we do see the sun. And there is something particularly refreshing about the Spring rain — it washes London clean, I believe. It should also water the pansies and snowdrops which are now making their appearance in my garden. Granted, there isn’t much space for gardening at 221 Baker Street, but it is such a British occupation that I cannot avoid getting my hands in the dirt once Winter has gone. I am careful to wash up and have the floors swept before Mr Holmes gets home, however; I do not need to know the particular composition of every inch of ground and I do remember it from one year to the next, thank you very much!
This brings me to our first letter, from Leonora J, a lady living in Bexhill-on-Sea:
Dear Mrs Hudson,
I must admit to having two passions in life: reading Dr Watson’s exciting stories and gardening. Do either Sherlock Holmes or the esteemed Doctor enjoy gardening? If so, I can send them some choice cuttings from my summer beds.
Well, if Mrs J does enjoy my lodgers’s adventures, it surely must have been awhile since she’s read them, else she would remember that Dr Watson once graded Mr Holmes’s knowledge of botany as “variable,” with no knowledge of “practical gardening,” although that depends on what one considers “practical,” as you shall read. It is also common knowledge that while Sherlock Holmes may not be the most religious of men, he does, in a transcendental fashion, find evidence of the Divine in nature, particularly in flowers, of which roses and violets are his favorites.
* * * *
Now Dr Watson does like flowers, as gentlemen do, but he mostly sees them as a way to gain favour with the ladies. Many is the time I’ve found gaps among my daffodils, tulips, marguerites, pinks and even on my rose bush when he’s been courting. I suppose I shouldn’t mind, provided one of his suits were successful, but I often believe the doctor enjoys the chase rather more than the prize itself. No one, I fear, can live up to the memories of his Mary.
Sherlock Holmes, however, seems to have taken his friend’s description to heart and does now and again do some gardening. The summer after he first moved into 221B, in fact, I found him digging up my hyacinths. I grabbed him straight by his right ear I did, pulling him up and demanding just what he imagined he was doing! He looked so comical, standing there, rubbing his ear with a grubby hand and looking shame-faced as a little boy that I did forgive him, but told him that I would absolutely not permit him to grow belladonna and monk’s-hood in my beds! The next morning I was awakened by the most horrible din on my rooftop and after putting on my dressing gown and slippers, I climbed upstairs to find him building a hothouse, of all things, with Dr Watson as his assistant. Now I love my boys, but I must say I had doubts about the, erm, durability of any structure they might build. Fortunately, my fears proved ill-founded. Mr Holmes has found a home for his poisonous plants where they are safe from my hoe, nibbling animals, and Heaven forbid, curious children. What does he plant there, you ask? Just about any lethal plant you can imagine: foxglove, hemlock, gelsemium, tansy, laurel … far too many to count, I fear. He once told Dr Watson that he might use some to compound his own medications, but the doctor prefers to prescribe medicines, rather than to make them himself.
My column on my lodgers’s arrival on Baker Street inspired some curiosity in Miss Thomasina Ford, who writes from Malmesbury, Wiltshire:
Dear Mrs Hudson,
Could you tell us how Sherlock Holmes got his early cases? I know that Dr Watson says people came to their flat and he solved their problems and got paid for it, but how did they know to come to see him in the first place? My uncle lives in London and he says that he never saw an advert for Sherlock Holmes, Private Inquiry Agent in any paper.
Well, dear, I must first say that Mr Holmes is not a “Private Inquiry Agent” but a “Consulting Detective.” Much like a consulting physician, he is called when a particular case is beyond the skill of general practitioners — in this case, those practitioners being the local police or Scotland Yard.
* * * *
But the question of advertising is an interesting one, as you do see advertisements for detectives in the papers, generally one on top of the other beneath the “Agony columns.” Now, of course, Mr Holmes is a household name, thanks to his remarkable gifts (and Dr Watson’s stories), but it wasn’t always so and he has told me that, as a young man just starting out, he wondered how he should attract business. He did consider advertising, however, if you remember, this was the time when the Scotland Yard detectives who were convicted of conspiring with the criminals Benson and Kurr to obstruct justice in the matter of illicit gambling businesses, having been released from prison, began to try to re-enter society by offering their services as private inquiry agents. Mr Holmes did not fancy having his name grouped in the papers with those of Mr Meiklejohn, Mr Clarke or Mr Druscovich and I do not blame him. He once told me that as he was just getting established, Mr Meiklejohn offered him a job as one of his foreign agents. He could use Mr Holmes’s knowledge of French and his connections in that country, he said. Now Mr Holmes has always wanted to make his own way in the world and has no desire to be yoked to any employer, but he also told me that he sensed something a bit devious about Meiklejohn. “Druscovich and Clarke were fools,” he said, “But they might have gone on in their careers with honour had they not fallen in with Inspector Meiklejohn.” As he considered the question of whether he should advertise, he also imagined what he should like his future to be.
“Although I knew that at least some of my early work would be taken up with finding lost items, missing relatives and divorce work — the stock in trade of most detectives — I knew that my talents were worthy of more. If I wished to be a true professional — a consultant — then I had to behave like one from the start. Everyone knows that members of the professions — legal and medical—do not advertise; it is unseemly and those who do are regarded as hacks and quacks. By beginning as I wished to end, I do believe that I enabled my rise.”
Without advertising, he had to work very hard for his early clients. Every morning he would go out and buy as many papers as he could afford, often picking up discarded ones from coffee shops and train stations. He would then peruse the Agony columns and the criminal news, looking for problems and cases in which he thought he could offer assistance. With the public, his success in offering advice in family and financial matters, as well as his skill in finding missing valuables and people, led to his name being passed about in all quarters as that of a man of discernment and discretion. When he offered his help in police cases, his deductions and most of all, his refusal to take credit for them, served to ingratiate him to enough constables and inspectors that the police soon knew to call him sooner, rather than later. Now, of course, he can afford to take only those cases which interest him, but I do think he occasionally misses those days when the uncertainty of it all added a bit of excitement to his endeavours.
And now, my dears, I think I shall go make some calls in this wonderful weather before it decides to rain again. Dr Watson paints me as a homebody, but I am actually out and about quite a lot! Before I go, however, I shall give you a recipe and a joke.
First the joke, which of all people, my readers will most appreciate:
He: “Oh, yes, when I was in London I was enthusiastically received in court circles.”
She: “Really? What was the charge against you?”
* * * *
And this makes a lovely dish for Spring:
LAMB CUTLETS WITH MINT SAUCE
For lamb and marinade:
6 lamb chops, cut and trimmed
salt and pepper to taste
4 large tbs of fresh mint, chopped
1 tbs moist sugar
4 tbs of vinegar
For mint sauce:
2 tbs moist sugar
4 tbs of vinegar
Preparation:
Mix together the mint, sugar and vinegar in a large bowl. Dust the chops with salt and pepper, then place them in the bowl and cover them with the sauce for an hour, turning once or twice. Afterwards, place chops on a griddle (do not wipe) and cook. Pour the sauce that is left into a saucepan with two more tbs of sugar and 4 tbs of vinegar. Let it boil up once, then serve it in a sauce boat. Dish the cutlets on a bed of mashed potatoes and send to the table very hot.