...I had not been in my study five minutes when the maid entered to say that a person desired to see me. To my astonishment, it was none other than my strange old book-collector, his sharp, wizened face peering out from a frame of white hair, and his precious volumes, a dozen of them at least, wedged under his right arm.
"You're surprised to see me, sir," said he, in a strange, croaking voice.
I acknowledged that I was.
"Well, I've a conscience, sir, and when I chanced to see you go into this house, as I came hobbling after you, I thought to myself, I'll just step in and see that kind gentleman, and tell him that if I was a bit gruff in my manner there was not any harm meant, and that I am much obliged to him for picking up my books."
"You make too much of a trifle," said I. "May I ask how you knew who I was?"
"Well, sir, if it isn't too great a liberty, I am a neighbor of yours, for you'll find my little bookshop at the corner of Church Street, and very happy to see you, I am sure. Maybe you collect yourself, sir; here's British Birds, and Catullus, and The Holy War - a bargain every one of them. With five volumes you could just fill that gap on that second shelf. It looks untidy, does it not, sir?"
I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned again Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my study table. I rose to my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement, and then it appears that I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my life. Certainly a grey mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand.
"My dear Watson," said the well-remembered voice, "I owe you a thousand apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected."
I gripped him by the arm.
"Holmes!" I cried. "Is it really you? Can it indeed be that you are alive? Is it possible that you succeeded in climbing out of that awful abyss?"
"Wait a moment!" said he. "Are you sure that you are really fit to discuss things? I have given you a serious shock by my unnecessarily dramatic appearance."
"I am all right; but indeed, Holmes, I can hardly believe my eyes. Good heavens, to think that you - you of all men - should be standing in my study!" Again I gripped him by the sleeve and felt the thin, sinewy arm beneath it. "Well, you're not a spirit, anyhow," said I. "My dear chap, I am overjoyed to see you. Sit down, and tell me how you came alive out of that dreadful chasm."
After struggling for a few months to have A Study in Scarlet published, Conan Doyle managed to land his manuscript on the desk of the chief editor of Ward, Lock & Co., Professor G. T. Bettany. He promptly passed the manuscript on to his wife to judge, given his limited time and her experience as a writer. Though he finally found an enthusiast for the Study, Ward, Lock & Co. could not publish the manuscript for at least a year, and were not very forthcoming with funds for the copyright, offering only twenty-five pounds (about one hundred and twenty-five USD) at the time (the time being October of 1886). Conan Doyle wrote them back, claiming objection to both the delay in print as well as the offer, and made the attempt at asking for a percentage of sales. After being thoroughly rejected, he acquiesced and took their original offer of twenty-five pounds flat. It was later published in either late November or early December of 1887, though it is unclear which, in Beeton's Christmas Annual (twenty-eighth issue).
There are several accounts arguing how the Study was received. In the introduction to Great Short Stories of Detection, Mystery, and Horror (The Omnibus of Crime in the United States), Dorothy L. Sayers wrote that A Study in Scarlet was "flung like a bombshell into the field of detective fiction." John Dickson Carr, noted mystery writer and author of the 1949 biography The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, wrote instead that, "... nothing happened. It was unlikely that any critic would trouble, at Christmas-time, to review an annual; and none did." A few reviews have been found, of course, though nothing particularly extreme. There were some that sung its praises, and still others that thought it merely an "imitation" of those works by Poe, Gaboriau, and Robert Louis Stevenson, among others.
Reviews aside, the actual issue was a sellout. It became so popular that Ward, Lock & Co. started in on a new edition in which the novel would appear on its own and with new illustrations done by the author's father, the painter Charles Doyle, never mind that Arthur would be receiving no further royalties.
Mr. Stoddard of Lippincott's Magazine, though, wanted fresh material to publish for his American paper being published in Pennsyvania, as well as the one being published in concert in London (also a Ward, Lock holding). He invited both Conan Doyle and Oscar Wilde out. Wilde promised The Picture of Dorian Gray and Conan Doyle said he'd get around to something as soon as he could, but he was occupied with The White Company at the time and had nothing new yet of Sherlock Holmes. Soon enough, however, he came up with The Sign of Four; or, The Problem of the Sholtos, which appeared in both Lippincott's in February of 1890. Again, Holmes was not particularly well-reviewed.
Sherlock Holmes did not, in fact, take off until Conan Doyle and his agent of the time, A. P. Watt, worked out the concept of a series of short stories focused solely on one character. This was, at the time, a new and exciting idea. "A Scandal in Bohemia" was sent to the editor of Strand Magazine, who liked it so much that he asked Conan Doyle to write him a series of six short stories, for which he offered a markedly better pay of thirty-five pounds each. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle finished his six tales in just about a week each. His talent and simultaneous speed in writing near sicken me.
Nearing the end of the six story run, Conan Doyle was able to write to his mother that his publishers were "imploring [him] to continue Holmes." Things were going so well that he raised his asking price to fifty pounds per story, regardless of its length. The Strand quickly agreed to his terms and asked of him six more Sherlockian adventures. Having completed all but one of the six stories in this second run, he wrote to his mother on November 11 of 1891,
"I think," and he seemed so casual of this, "of slaying Holmes in the last and winding him up for good. He takes my mind from better things."
His mother would have none of that, however. Not only would he not, but he could not, and must not, she argued. She suggested an alternative concept for his sixth story, and so "The Copper Beeches" was written. Holmes was only saved that first time by Conan Doyle's mother, you see. God bless, Mama Foley Doyle. God bless.
The Strand set to pestering him for more Sherlock once again. He wrote back to them in that year, 1892, with an offer of twelve more stories for a thousand pounds, hoping the steepness of his request would send them running. It did not. "Silver Blaze" came out in December of that year.
It was early on in 1893 that he was vacationing with his wife in Switzerland and came upon the falls of Reichenbach. He was noted as calling it a wonderful and terrible place, "one that [he] thought would make a worthy tomb for Sherlock..."
It was April 6 of that year thar he wrote to his mother: "I am in the middle of the last Holmes story, after which the gentleman vanishes, never to return. I am weary of his name." And so, he set to finishing "The Final Problem". His only other mentioning of it at the time seemed to be his frustratingly laconic note in his diary a short while after: "Killed Holmes."
Of course, much like fandoms of the modern day, the public refused to accept this. People wept. They wore mourning bands to work. They send Conan Doyle hate mail, labelling him a "brute" and other unsavory things. You see, era aside, they were very much like us.
The magazines tried their best to placate their readers. They claimed the hiatus was temporary, and that they would fill the gap between Holmeses with great detective stories by other great writers. Much like us, however, these people cried bullshit and demanded more Sherlock.
They waited eight years (gosh, that seems familiar...), but they finally received more from Conan Doyle in 1901. But it was The Hound of the Baskervilles. This canonically takes place prior to the affair at Reichenbach, being only a remembrance by Watson and not a resurrection of the Master. The fans loved and hated Conan Doyle then. Nevertheless, his story had tremendous success. They literally could not print fast enough to keep up with demand.
His resolve was weakened by this, despite his having said that even the name of his detective gave him a "sickly feeling". In an interview quoted in Harper's Weekly for August 31, 1901, he is reported to have said:
"I know that my friend Dr. Watson is a most trustworthy man, and I gave the utmost credit to his story of the dreadful affair in Switzerland. He may have been mistaken, of course. It may not have been Mr. Holmes who fell from the ledge at all, or the whole affair might be the result of hallucination..."
He finally gave up in October of 1903, and he gave his public "The Adventure of the Empty House".
It was March of 1927 that "Shoscombe Old Place" was published, the sixtieth and last of Sherlock Holmes' adventures in canon.
Now here we are, in the year 2014! Some of us have already seen the latest installment (myself included), but in the States we are just days away from "The Empty Hearse", our two year awaited Reichenbach return. Things have modernized a bit, not only in our expressions of ardor for the Master, but in the portrayal of him as well. I feel that we are very much the same fans we always have been, though, and that our Holmes was very close to that original as well. This is the time, however, when even Saint Sir Arthur Conan Doyle said it changed.
"I think... when Holmes fell over that cliff he may not have killed himself, but he was never quite the same man afterwards."
After watching the episode myself, I cannot help but agree. Drastic changes have been made. I shan't speak on the over all quality of the episode, and I don't wish to provide any spoilers... but I implore you to grab your shock blankets, my friends... I fear you are yet still in for a serious ride in this, "The Empty Hearse".
