Friday, July 15, 2022

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 6

Sherlock Holmes The Hound of the Baskervilles* [HOUN] by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle | Thoughts on Chapter 6

(*First published in a serialized fashion by The Strand Magazine August 1901 - April 1902. SPOILERS AHEAD)

A trip to Devonshire and Holmes has boots on the ground at Baskerville Hall in the form of (as far as we know) an armed Watson. Prior to that, while at the station H sees W off with a final bit of marching orders of 'leave me to do the theorizing,' and 'Keep your revolver near you night and day, and never relax your precautions.' He just wants the facts, see. That and to welcome W safely home.

Everyone is still a suspect, the Barrymore couple, a pair of moorland farmers (most likely shepherds), a Mr. Frankland, a pair of other neighbors, this Stapleton naturalist character, and his sexy sultry sister--but Dr. Mortimer does seem clean--but again what of his wife? I just feel as though Watson could use a bit more direction and this all reads as H setting him up to underwhelm. His query of "What sort of facts?" bears that out.

According to William Baring-Gould's chronology, this tale (if I've not already mentioned in previous installments) takes place in September of 1888. About ten years prior to The Retired Colourman case (July 1898) in which W famously flubs a similar reconnaissance mission instance, returning to H with an elaborately ornate description of a wall instead of keeping an eye on peoples of presumed interest. "Cut out the poetry, Watson," said Holmes severely. "I note that it was a high brick wall." [RETI]

But we aren't there yet, and Watson does pledge to do his level-best. Oh, and as to a Sir Henry's footwear update--it's seemingly gone forever, that worn boot. Nevertheless, Watson, Mortimer, and Henry are off on their way to Devonshire, as I like to write these in an opaquely non-linear manner. Along the ride, they get to know each other a bit whilst W plays with M's Spaniel, perhaps he misses his own Bull pup... whatever he meant by that in the first place back in A Study in Scarlet.

Then we all wax poetical as to Devonshire and Mortimer waxes quite phrenological about Henry's Celtic cranium and fondly recalls the rare traits of Sir Charles' skull. Then a tick of Henry's American experience and out-of-place accent, but for now he is most excited about again seeing the moor... and so are we. A place of vague (unpleasant) dreams and a melancholy mountain. Green, jagged, and curved. Danger awaits, as does Henry's destiny and one gets the feeling that what courses through his veins also flows through the moor.

A bit more traveling and we meet yet another character. One not mentioned previously by H and I feel as though this most likely throws Watson for a goodly loop. Remember Holmes' character list? THIS ONE IS NOT ON THAT. And I was so enjoying W's poetry. Regardless, a soldier sits on horseback, rifle in hand. M asks Perkins the driver what the heck and, "There's a convict escaped from Princetown, sir. He's been out three days now, and the wardens watch every road and every station, but they've had no sight of him yet."

"It is Selden, the Nottinghill murderer." Watson notes that Holmes took interest in that case, as it was particularly ferocious and brutal. So much so that it rang of enough insanity to spare Selden from being hanged. A great addition here, for sure. A red herring and a growing sinister bit. Into this bleak terror, we continue until we are arrived and landed at Baskerville Hall. "Welcome, Sir Henry! Welcome to Baskerville Hall!" A shadowy man, a silhouetted woman, The Barrymores.

Mortimer is in a hurry to get back to his Mrs. and vamooses. It is Watson and Henry Baskerville against the eerie world. Barrymore lets it be known the place is all set for their arrival and also that he and Mrs. Barrymore quit, or at least give their notice. Watson retires to his room where he closes a curtain against the now entirely 'melancholy' moor. He then spends much of the night listening to "... the sob of a woman, the muffled, strangling gasp of one who is torn by an uncontrollable sorrow. " Did I mention the hall itself is creepy af?

A masterful chapter of Victorian Era creeper story-telling. A fantastic entry-point into the second-third of this page-turner.

ADDITIONAL HOUN
Thoughts on Chapter 5
Thoughts on Chapter 7

::: very :::

Online sources for this article: The Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia (The Hound of the Baskervilles, William Stuart Baring-Gould)