Arthur Conan Doyle: A Life in Letters

Did Lottie get my letter? I hope she was pleased. By all means give her a birthday present out of that pound, if you think fit, for remember I gave it to you. I hope the measles are all right again, it made me quite uneasy. It is very kind of Doctor Waller to attend to her.

The average age of our class is just about mine, though I am second biggest. Our good master hauls me up every day to mutilate poor Cicero, and turn him into bad German among the grins of the aborigines. I am the only foreigner in the class. I am going to pitch into my French essay, but we had some holidays at Shrovetide, and it rather put me out.

to Mary Doyle FELDKIRCH, APRIL 1876

I wish to answer Doctor Waller’s kind letter, which it was an unexpected pleasure for me to receive. Dr Waller’s handwriting is sometimes remarkably like Mr Cassidy’s, as you will find on referring to a very ancient ‘catholic’s manual’ at home, in which Mr C—wrote something.

I was indeed surprised and sorry to hear that papa is leaving the office; has he been unwell? or is there any other particular reason for it? He ought now to be able to finish the skating picture soon at any rate.

I am sure you will think me very changeable, but I really think I would prefer to return by rail over Switzerland and France, to carrying out my original idea of the long voyage. I want to see some more of the fortified frontier between France and Germany, and I could easily choose another route to my former one. It would be cheaper too, for I could travel from here to Paris sumptuously alone on £5. And then perhaps, if you have no particular wish that I pass through London, I could set a direct passage from Havre or Ostende to Leith, which would be very jolly wouldn’t it?

You must excuse my scribble; I am sure you will approve of my answering Dr W as quickly as possible, to show that I duly appreciate his kindness. Love and kisses to all.

The end of Charles Doyle’s position in the Office of Works, where he had designed such important projects as the fountain at the Queen’s Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh, came as a surprise to his son, now nearly seventeen. When the head of the Office retired, and it was reorganized, the authorities took the opportunity to pension off the artist at the age of only forty-four, which suggests that his performance had declined considerably.

His father left the office for good in June. Meantime Conan Doyle continued the life of an English student in a foreign land, and, because of his more than average stature, found himself in the school’s marching band playing an unfamiliar tuba-like instrument. ‘The Bombardon,’ he said, ‘only comes in on a measured rhythm with an.occasional run, which sounds like a hippopotamus doing a step-dance. So big was the instrument that I remember the other bandsmen putting my sheets and blankets inside it and my surprise when I could not get out a note.’

to Mary Doyle FELDKIRCH, MAY 1876

I have just received your little postcard, and was sorry indeed to hear that papa was unwell; I hope that it is nothing serious. When does he leave the office? I was glad to get the bursary paper,* (#ulink_34ebe195-b78f-5f2b-9d22-be17669ec08d) and am working as hard as possible at the subjects, though I think Doctor Waller will agree with me that it will be hard work getting up the subjects, when he hears that I have never learned any trigonometry or conic sections, nor books V and VI of Euclid. The other three are not so formidable, though each requires some study. Luckily I have ‘Todhunter’s trigonometry’, for the Germans here have quite another system, and never use Euclid. If you could send me a work on ‘conic sections treated geometrically’, and a Euclid it would be very useful indeed, as it would not do to leave such subjects to be worked up at the last moment. Don’t you think it would be possible, by applying at the proper quarters, to obtain a few copies of previous bursary examinations; in most examinations they publish small books containing sample examination papers, by which means one understands better how much knowledge is required. The list of subjects in the paper you sent me is rather

The Feldkirch marching band, with Conan Doyle (second row, second from right) and his bombardon

ambiguous. If once I have my work already cut out for me, then I can go at it with ardour, but somehow when you are not certain whether what you study is included in the examen or not, it is rather a damper.

I have quite given up English books, and have not opened any, except school books for two months; I always keep a German book in my desk as a relaxation when I get muddled. I am reading the life of the French Crimean general Marshal Saint Arnaud but it is very slow work, as I study nearly always during free time.

I delayed writing as we have been having our photographs taken, first the whole division (60 boys) and then the band alone with their instruments.

Every fortnight we have a holiday and march out to our country house, about half a mile from here, with banners flying, and we (the band) at the head of the column blowing quick marches. It is rather hard, I find, blowing and marching at the same time, but, like everything else, it can be acquired by practise. It affords me a feeling of satisfaction too to observe the effect produced by my deep sonorous notes on the unmusical oxen we meet on the way drawing the peasants carts, I always blow in their ears as I pass, and cause a fine disturbance.

An uninitiated Briton [would be] astonished, not to say shocked, at the amount of beer and wine we, especially the band, manage to make away with on one of our holidays; strong beer it is too. We are so accustomed to it that it is just as water to us, for instance on one of these days, on which we go out to our country house I will just give you a sketch of our order of the day. We have a long sleep till half past five A.M. Then toilet, studies and mass carry us down to 7, when we get our breakfast of bread and two cups of coffee. Then at half past seven off we start in great pomp. First go the four drummers, then the band about thirty strong, with regimental cape of silver and black, and looking very smart; marching in quick step and playing. Then the banner bearer with the college banner, gold and blue, which cost more than 100 pounds. Then the third or smaller division, about 50 in all, march, all in a state of supreme beatitude at having escaped their professors for a day. The second division containing about 80, follows the third, and the first, which without the band, has not more than 30 representatives forms the rearguard. We march right through the quiet little town, down the market place, and principal streets, bringing all the shopkeepers to their doors, and the burgers, mostly in a very sleepy state to their windows. The policeman, an old soldier, draws himself up militarily as we pass, and criticises our step and music, amid the reverence of the rustics, who no doubt look upon him as the greatest military authority, and so, through quite a crowd we march out of the town gate. On reaching our country house the band blows a hymn which the rest sing, and then the band goes into the house and each man gets a bottle of beer, just ‘to grease his wheels’. Then we leave our instruments and go out in separate divisions for a walk on the hills. At dinner time we return, and get a rough healthy sort of dinner, consisting of soup, two courses of meat, one cold, one hot, and some dessert. In the course of this we drink at least another pint bottle of beer, and a tumbler full of wine. The band plays at the beginning and end of dinner. After dinner the boys lie about or play before the house, and we blow for about half an hour, selections from operas, walzes, gallops, marches and polkas. Then we go in and drink about a couple more tumblers full of wine. There is a walk then until we come to a level place where the lazy lie down, and the active can play rounders. We stay there about two hours, and then we return at 4 P.M. to the house and partake of a fine refreshing repast there, consisting of unlimited bread, cheese, often butter, and always two pint bottles each of beer. We get some wine and cake then, during which the prefects sing songs, which, as both have fine voices, is very jolly. We had a splendid one last time, a regular national Tyrolese song, ‘Andreas Hofer’ it is called, and celebrates the brave innkeeper who beat Napoleon’s armies until he was cruelly executed in Mantua. It is a beautiful mournful air, and narrates the death of the brave old fellow; I don’t think I was ever more pleased than when I heard it, and I have been singing it ever since.

After this refreshment which lasts an hour and a half, we have a football match, which is a terribly savage and wild affair, as everybody is in a state of excitement from the beer; it is the jolliest match of the whole year, in my opinion, for there are always four or five fellows lying on their backs, and shiners are given and taken with the greatest equanimity. After playing an hour we march back with music as before, and end our pleasant day.

I must bid you an abrupt goodbye, for I hear the voice of the Trigonometry summoning me, so goodbye! Love to papa and the children; remember me to Dr W—.

As the end of the school year approached, Conan Doyle’s mind turned to medical school, and the stringent academic requirements he faced to win a bursary to defray the formidable cost of that education.

to Mary Doyle FELDKIRCH, MAY 1876

I hope my last long letter will recompense you for this hasty note. I am studying away infinitely harder than I did for matriculation, and am quite astonishing myself. It was really very kind of Dr Waller to send me his own chemistry book, with such splendid notes too in his hand writing on the margin. Of course I wrote to thank him.

I have got an office here, namely that of doorkeeper in the study place, that is to say I have to answer all knocks, and carry messages about the house. It won’t interfere with study much, and then on the other hand one learns a lot of German by it, and it is a very satisfactory thing to get, as none but trustworthy boys are given it, and it shows one has earned a good name for himself if he gets such an office, especially the first year.

to Mary Doyle FELDKIRCH, MAY 30, 1876

I am sorry to say that I have had to be measured for a suit of clothes, especially as I suppose they can scarcely make very good ones here; I had no option in the matter though, and no doubt I wd need a suit to see uncle Conan and the London people in. I don’t think they are particularly dear here.

One of my English friends here sent for one of Cook’s tickets and got it from England. It is a wonderful saving. He is going a very roundabout way from here to Lucerne, then right up the Rhine to Cologne, then to Brussels, Ostende and London, and he got this ticket which is valid for a month for 120 francs or £4. 15 about. Don’t you think it would be at the same time a very satisfactory and economical arrangement if you went to his agent at Edinburgh, there is one at the Cockburn hotel, and bought me a ticket from here to London, and then sent it to me. Then I would need to get at most a pound here for hotels, etc, and thus we could manage the whole journey for £5! That would be a masterpiece of economy.

I think we could make a route to pass through Strasburgh. It is not much out of the way, and would indeed be interesting with its fortifications and cathedral clocks.

Tell Doctor Waller I have worked right through Roscoe, and at 11.45 A.M. today I finished the last example of the last chapter, having written out in full all the others. I did it in six weeks doing a chapter a day. I got on famously with organic chemistry, but I wish I could say as much for conic sections and bursary matter. I conquered the parabola but the ellipse is a terrible fellow. I won’t do any more chemistry now this month, but devote it to geometry and mathematics.

I could not wish for a more delightful companion from London than Lottie; it would be jolly to escort her home, and also to spend a day or two with her in London, which I have often described to her.

The vacations begin on the 27

tho’ I won’t start till Friday the 28

. We are having detestable weather, and, as I explain to the Germans, though they do call England ‘the land of mist and rain’, you see more of both commodities in a month here than in a year in England.

Pray do not let my coming spoil any little plans you had for visiting Dr W—’s mother. As long as I have my meals and conic sections, you know, I am provided for, and it would be quite a novelty to change the old order of things for once.

Conan Doyle was neither the first nor last young student to find his goals hindered by mathematics and geometry, and their infuriatingly defiant conic sections, but he may be the only one to turn the experience into one of literature’s notorious villains, the nemesis of the Sherlock Holmes stories, Professor James Moriarty.

to Mary Doyle FELDKIRCH, JUNE 1, 1876

I am longing to get a proper letter from you, though you must find it hard to find time even to write postcards. I am getting on very well with my work, to which the twelve labours of Hercules were child’s play, and am anxiously expecting the conic section book, which will be rather a tough fellow, I fear. I ought to attain one of my two objects, either to win the bursary, or distinguish myself at the chemistry examination, and either will give me a good start in my medical career, while both would be supreme felicity.

I get up very often at four in the morning now, as we are allowed to go and study by a dormitory window at that hour. I think that if you ever did happen to see a nice cheap little alarm clock—like Willie’s—it would save poor Baa a cold in the head, which she would certainly get if she had to come to knock me up at all sorts of unearthly hours in the morning,* (#ulink_c1d40a81-07a1-514a-ac4f-4ea95365b404) for I never could succeed in waking myself, and no wonder when for seven years I have always been awakened by being battered with a policeman’s rattle, which treatment though generally effective is anything but soothing.

It is getting tremendously hot—such heat as we never experience in England. Two days ago we went up a mountain about a couple of thousand feet high; we got up in an hour and a quarter, and raced down in little more than ten minutes. It was like an oven the whole time. The whole place is infested with frogs which jump about in the ditches on each side of the road, like the grasshoppers in England. There was one I caught in a drinking trough on the top of the mountain, though how it managed to hop up there is rather incomprehensible. We have plenty of lizards too, and toads and bats and cockroaches and all sorts of nice little creatures.

I will, if I can get one, enclose a photograph of the band in this. You see me on the right hand with my little instrument. As you will perceive it is the largest instrument, and a fine deep bass. It is splendid work for the chest blowing at it.

Those who distinguished themselves by always gaining the first note in everything during May get a ‘card of honour’. I have got one and will send it next letter. Our names were read out with great pomp in the chapel yesterday.

Conan Doyle’s final letter from Feldkirch survives only as a fragment, but indicates that his school life was hardy physically as well as mentally—describing an astonishing trek in which he and his comrades ‘plodded manfully’ over many miles of rough terrain at the end of the school year.

to Mary Doyle (fragment) FELDKIRCH

and plodded on manfully. In the level country we formed ranks and marched singing German songs. As we all had our alpenstocks over our shoulders, and our tunes were somewhat lugubrious, I think we must have resembled a body of Cromwell’s pikemen, marching into action while singing the old hundredth, or some other psalm. However at last we got back to our ‘alma mater’ and as we were let sleep on till six o’clock today, I am quite fresh again, and only have some insignificant blisters. The whole distance was 42 miles, and such miles, done in 14 hours.

Now to business. I got your postcard and am anxiously expecting a letter to tell me whether you will buy me the Rorschach-Basle-Paris route. If so I intend to start on the Wednesday (26

) evening for Lindau and sleep there. Next morning bath in the lake, and start by steamer to Rorschach, so as to see the lake, and then I arrive at Basle at 7.15, and get to Paris next day.

The procurator refuses to give anybody any money on any account. Therefore when you enclose the ticket or means of buying it, pray send the travelling expenses. Perhaps two English pound notes are not too much, as I will be very careful and economical, but sometimes one incurs expense for the luggage, and the residue will go to pay my ticket from London home. However you can judge yourself better than I can on this point.

I am glad the cartes pleased you. I am getting quite gaunt, I assure you, as you may notice in the division photograph. There is nothing like alpine excursions for reducing spare flesh.

Love to all, best regards to Doctor Waller.

[P.S.] From that mountain I saw Baden, Austria, Switzerland, Bavaria, and Würtemburg.

He made his way back to England through Paris, paying a long-awaited visit to his uncle Michael Conan and aunt Susan in the Avenue Wagram off the Etoile. He arrived at their door with only a penny left in his pockets, he remembered, but had a wonderful visit of several weeks.