Sherlock Holmes and the
railways
This article was written by William Owen Gay
(former Chief Constable of British Transport Police) and was part
of a series Murder in Transit published in the BTP Journal.
The late Sherlock Holmes, who won
international fame as a private detective and consultant on all
matters relating to crime, lived for many years at 221b Baker
Street. Since his lodgings were within easy reach of most of the
main line stations he made frequent use of the railways when his
investigations took him out of town. He was not a rich man although
he often waived his fee and was obviously never sufficiently
affluent to own a carriage and pair. He favoured a cab for short
journeys, although he often made use of the underground just round
the corner. His friend and chronicler, Doctor John H. Watson, had
an excellent knowledge of the principal train services to the
suburbs and provinces. A copy of Bradshaw was always available and
Doctor Watson knew it thoroughly.
In the Copper Beeches Case, for example,
Holmes only had to say: “Just look up the trains in Bradshaw,” and
Watson could reply after a brief glance: “There is a train at half
past nine due at Winchester at 11.30.” This train has, of course,
been speeded up and now arrives at Winchester at 11.07 Another
example of Watson’s knowledge of the train services occurs in the
Case of the Retired Colourman, when it was necessary to travel to
Little Purlington near Frinton, not an easy place to reach from
London because it is on a branch line. Holmes said to Watson: “Look
up the trains, Watson,” and Watson replied immediately, apparently
without reference to any timetable: “There is one at 5.20 from
Liverpool Street.” This would no doubt have been the present 5.36pm
from Liverpool Street to Clacton.
On many of his train journeys Holmes spent his
time studying the latest crimes in the morning papers. In those
days there were more daily newspapers than there are today and he
regarded them as expendable. Thus, when he and Watson caught the
11.15am from Paddington en-route to Boscombe Valley to investigate
the McCarthy murder, he had “an immense litter of papers” which he
studied until they reached Reading, when he “suddenly rolled them
all into a gigantic ball and tossed them up on to the rack”.
Incidentally, they arrived at Ross shortly before four o’clock
which was quite a good run. Today the 10.45am from Paddington
arrives at Ross at 2.47pm and the 11.45am at 4.28pm, so that the
service has not improved in 60 years.
Holmes was not a model passenger and seldom
disposed of his newspapers tidily. When travelling down to Devon in
connection with the Silver Blaze Racehorse affair, he “dipped
rapidly into the bundle of fresh papers which he had procured at
Paddington”. As he finished each paper he stuffed it under the
seat, the last of them being disposed of soon after they passed
Reading. On occasion Holmes used to stretch out on the seat, and
must have soiled the upholstery somewhat because the streets in
those days were never very clean.
Holmes and Watson frequently travelled from
Paddington and soon after Watson married he went into private
practice and lived very near the station. He had quite a few
patients from among the staff. One of them, he tells us, he cured
of “a painful and lingering disease” and this man thereafter was
always apparently sending him patients. The strange case of the
Engineer's Thumb actually opened in Watson’s consulting room when
the maid announced: "Two men have come from Paddington.” Watson
reacted quickly. “I dressed hurriedly,” he wrote afterwards, “for I
knew by experience that railway cases were seldom trivial.” In this
instance a guard described rather unkindly as a “trusty tout” had
brought a patient. He was, it should be noted, a conscientious
railwayman, for he left quickly, saying to the doctor: “I must go
now. I have my duties just the same as you.” On this occasion
Holmes and Watson together with the engineer and Inspector
Bradstreet of the Yard, probably travelled on the 12.45pm from
Paddington due at Reading at 1.40, because Watson and his patient
had breakfast with Holmes at Baker Street, went from there to the
Yard and “some three or four hours or so afterwards” they were all
in the train together bound for Reading.
Doctor Watson seems to have exploited his
railway connections very effectively, for it was seldom there were
any other occupants in a compartment in which he and Holmes
travelled. On their way back from Winchester after the successful
conclusion of the Silver Blaze case, Holmes and Watson had a corner
of a Pullman to themselves. They believed in making themselves
comfortable and always travelled first class. In fact, when Mr.
Josiah Amberlry in the Retired Colourman case, travelled third
class, Watson thought it a good instance of his miserliness.
Holmes and Watson patronised the station
refreshment rooms and Watson never records any criticism of the
food provided. In the Naval Treaty case it will be recalled Holmes
travelled up from Woking, reached Waterloo at 3.23pm (probably by
the 2.36 from Woking running late) and “after a hasty lunch at the
buffet pushed on at once to Scotland Yard”. Again, during the
enquiry into the murder of Sir Eustace Brackenstall, Holmes and his
friend were up before dawn and rushed off to Charing Cross where
they had “hot tea at the station” and caught a train down into
Kent. There do not appear to have been canteen facilities at
Scotland Yard at this time, because, although Holmes visited the
Yard on innumerable occasions, he never seems to have been offered
a cup of tea or entertained in any way.
Holmes was always keenly interested in railway
matters and was quick to appreciate the significance of railway
timetables in particular cases. Thus, in the Abbey Grange case in
1897, he concluded that the crime had been committed before 12am
last night. “How can you possibly tell?” asks Watson, and Holmes
replies: "By an inspection of the trains and by reckoning the
time.” His interest is shown in other curious ways. In the Black
Peter case, for example, Inspector Hopkins thought the letters CPR
were the initials of a stockbroker’s client. “Try
Canadian Pacific Railway,” said Holmes, and he was, of course,
quite right. Again, when the agitated Doctor Huxtable of the Priory
School arrived at 221b Baker Street only to collapse on the floor,
Holmes went immediately to his watch pocket and took from it a
return ticket from Mackleton. Holmes knew immediately that his
visitor was from the North of England, and was soon afterwards en
route from Euston to the “cold, bracing atmosphere of the Peak
Country.”
Some of Holmes’ most interesting cases
occurred in the West Country, the Hound of the Baskervilles being
among the best, but he undertook commitments for foreign
governments, and even investigated the murder of Cardinal Tosca at
the special request of the Pope. The upper middle classes living in
the outer suburbs of London brought in many cases, but at different
times he travelled to Cornwall, Birmingham, where he probably
stayed at the Queen’s Hotel, and Cambridge, where Holmes himself
had been educated and which he visited from time to time to
undertake certain research. During all his journeys it is
significant that neither Holmes nor Watson complained about the
high railway fares. Travelling was still something of an adventure
in the 1890s and Watson gives a hint of its rigours in his account
of the Boscombe Valley Mystery, when he observes that his
experience of “camp life in Afghanistan” had made him a prompt and
ready traveller so that in less than half an hour he could finish
his breakfast, be packed, call a cab, and be on his way to
Paddington.
Holmes never appears to have been called in to
investigate a railway case. This is something of a tribute to the
railway police of his day, because Inspectors Lestrade, Gregson,
Hopkins, and other men from the Yard were frequently on his
doorstep seeking advice and information. In the third week of
November 1895, however, Holmes became involved in a case which
concerned the railway inasmuch as the body of Cadogan West was
discovered by a platelayer just outside Aldgate Station on the
Underground. He was called in to the case by his brother, Mycroft
Holmes who was in the government service. The dead man, Cadogan
West, was employed as a clerk at Woolwich Arsenal. The body was
found at 6am on a Tuesday morning lying wide of the metals on the
left hand side of the track at a point close to the station and it
was considered that the body could only have fallen from a train as
it was obvious that if it had been carried down from any
neighbouring street it would have had to pass the station barriers
where a collector was always on duty. It seems certain that the
young man when he met his death, was travelling in this direction
at some late hour of the night, but at what point he entered the
train it was impossible to state.
Holmes enquired about the ticket and was told
that there was no ticket in the pocket. This intrigued Holmes, who
commented: “This is really very singular. According to my
experience, it is not possible to reach the platform of a
metropolitan train without exhibiting one’s ticket. Presumably,
then, the young man had one. Was it taken from him in order to
conceal the station from which he came, or did he drop it in the
carriage?” There was no sign of robbery, but it was soon apparent
to Holmes that the crime was connected with Cadogan West’s
employment, and in fact valuable documents concerning the
Bruce-Partington submarine were missing. Holmes, of course, was a
great believer in the importance of a search at the scene of crime,
and had indeed demonstrated its value to Scotland Yard on many
occasions. Very soon after he was called in Holmes, Inspector
Lestrade from the Yard, and Doctor Watson, went to Aldgate Station
where they met a railway representative described in Watson’s
account of this case as “a courteous red-faced old gentleman.” This
was probably the chief of the Metropolitan Railway Police. The
railway officer told the Holmes, he said there were no indications
of any violence in the carriage, no ticket had been found, and
there was no record of a door being found open. Lestrade had
received a report from a passenger who passed Aldgate in an
ordinary metropolitan train at 11.40pm on the Monday night that he
heard a heavy thud as of a body striking the line just before the
train reached the station, but there was a dense fog and he could
see nothing.
Holmes studied the layout of the track for
some time and asked the railway officer if there were many points
on this section. The railway officer said there were very few.
Holmes asked if it would be possible for him to inspect the train
in which the passenger who heard the thud had travelled, but was
told that the train had been broken up and the carriages
re-distributed. Lestrade assured Holmes that every carriage had
been carefully examined and Holmes remarked rather tartly that it
was not the carriages he wanted to examine. Suffice it to say that
Holmes was soon off the mark and came to the conclusion that West
had met his death elsewhere and that his body had fallen from the
roof of the carriage. So that the question was, how had the body
got on to the roof? The clerk in the ticket office at Woolwich knew
Cadogan West well by sight and stated that he had gone to London by
the 8.15 to London Bridge and that he took a single third class
ticket. The clerk was struck at the time by his nervous manner.
Thereafter there was a gap until West’s body had at some point been
placed on the roof of the train. Holmes was convinced that it had
been placed on the roof and not fallen on to it. Watson wondered
whether or not it could have been dropped from a bridge, but Holmes
considered it impossible because the roofs of the carriages were
slightly rounded and there was no railing round them. Holmes
considered the point further and recalled that the underground ran
clear of tunnels at some point in the West End. He had occasionally
seen windows just above his head when travelling and felt that if a
train halted under such a window there would be no difficulty in
lying a body upon the roof. Watson argued that this seemed most
improbable, but Holmes relied upon the old axiom that: “When all
other contingencies fail whatever remains, however improbable, must
be the truth.”
Further enquiries disclosed that a leading
international agent lived in a row of houses which abutted upon the
underground. Holmes began a search at Gloucester Road station with
the assistance of the railway staff and satisfied himself that the
back stair windows of the house occupied by the agent opened on to
the line. It also became evident that underground trains were
frequently held motionless at that very spot. Later Holmes and
Watson broke into these premises and Holmes discovered
discolourations along the woodwork of the window overlooking the
track. While they were there a train came through the tunnel,
slowed down, and pulled up immediately beneath them. The roof of
the carriage was not four feet from the window ledge. In due course
Colonel Valentine Walter, a brother of the late Sir James Walter of
the submarine department, was arrested and sentenced to 15 years.
He had been associating with the spy Oberstein, who fell into a
trap laid for him by Holmes in the smoking room of the Charing
Cross Hotel, and some weeks afterwards Holmes was invited to
Windsor where he was presented with a remarkably fine emerald tie
pin by a certain gracious lady.
Most of Sherlock Holmes’ important cases were
recorded by Doctor Watson, his loyal and devoted friend.
Unfortunately, Watson was exceedingly hazy in matters of detail and
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who edited the notes and subsequently
published them in book form found some difficulty not only in
presenting the cases in chronological order, but providing
sufficient information to show that Holmes’ deductions were valid
in relation to the clues available.
Holmes himself had for many years been engaged
upon a work intended to embody the whole art of detection in one
book. It was never completed and detective officers everywhere can
only regret that the methods of the great investigator are not
fully available to them.
Many officers at Scotland Yard, were, of
course, rather jealous of Holmes’ successes. It is to be regretted
that Holmes was not consulted by them more often in difficult
cases, and rather surprising that the railway authorities did not
call him in on some of the serious railway crimes that occurred
when he was at the height of his fame. If they had done so it might
have been possible, for instance, to solve the case of Elizabeth
Camp in 1897 and the Merstham Tunnel mystery in 1905.
Sherlock Holmes was, of course, well-known to
many of the staff at the London stations, and it is still possible
to talk to veterans in the railway service who well remember him
pacing up and down the platform at Paddington, Waterloo and Charing
Cross, waiting impatiently for Doctor Watson, a tall, gaunt figure,
made even gaunter and taller by his long grey travelling cloak and
close-fitting cloth cap. He was sadly missed by many railwaymen
when a few years before the First World War he retired to a little
house in Sussex where he amused himself with his favourite hobby –
keeping bees.
Note
Sherlock Holmes’ home, 221b Baker Street, is
now occupied by the headquarters of the Abbey National Building
Society. A statue of the great detective now stands nearby at the
entrance to Baker Street Underground station.