Arthur Conan Doyle: A Life in Letters

In London, where the prosperous Doyles lived, he had a number of aunts, but the ‘Auntie’ referred to in the next letter was probably Annette, his father’s sister, who never married and so took a special interest in the boy, eleven years old now.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, AUTUMN 1870

I received a nice kind note from Auntie today, they are all well in London, she says you are the best correspondent she ever saw. she sent a little ornamented card with the names of some Marquise’s ancestors, she praises Tots up to the skies.

I am very happy now, but I miss Cony’s laugh sometimes I hope you are all more or less well.

I am taking care of my clothes. that big coat is grand. I always wear it now as the weather is chilly, and it never gets dirty, every dirt flies off it. I am so glad I brought the sardines and jam it is so pleasant after a hard day’s study to sit down to sardines & tea I like having tea & coffee awfully. I keep a diary I am continually using my chalks, they are jolly

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST

we had a dreadfully long walk about a week ago, 25 miles, really I am quite in earnest, 25 miles and such a walk—across rivers, and ditches & hedges—we went nearly up to the top of Pendle. we were awfully tired, and had to change all our clothes on coming in. we had to wade in water above our knees often, and once we crossed a very rapid stream about a yard deep & 5 yards wide by getting from the branches at one side of the stream on to the top of a tree on the other side. Guibara who is small, gave up after walking 15 miles but I and a lot of fellows made a litter out of some branches and carried him about 2 miles till luckily a small dog cart passed us, and we put him into it & he drove off to Stonyhurst.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, OCTOBER 31, 1870

I have just been telling some of the fellows the grey man of the forest which you told me several years ago.* (#ulink_ac3cf79e-4404-5e2e-a08e-e1ca4d906dff) The compositions are next Monday. I am composing poetry in a large theme book. I copy a part of 1 of the pieces

A STUDENTS DREAM

1

The Student he lay on his narrow bed he dreamt not of the morrow confused thoughts they filled his head and he dreamt of his home with sorrow

2

The Student he lay on his narrow bed all round dark was the night the stars they twinkled above his head and the moon it shone quite bright

3

He thought of the birch’s stinging stroke and he thought with fear on the morrow he wriggled and tumbled and nearly awoke and again he sighed with sorrow

His letters do not tell how much Stonyhurst employed corporal punishment to enforce order and discipline. He received more than his share, for he was long deemed an insubordinate, rebellious boy by his schoolmasters, but he seems never to have described punishments in letters home (which may have been read by school authorities before being posted). Only this poem, and a later comment about overcoming the sulkiness and ill temper his masters had charged him with, allude meaningfully to what he described in Memories and Adventures:

Corporal punishment was severe, and I can speak with feeling as I think few, if any, boys of my time endured more of it. It was of a peculiar nature, imported also, I fancy, from Holland. The instrument was a piece of india-rubber of the size and shape of a thick boot sole. This was called a ‘Tolley’—why, no one has explained, unless it is a Latin pun on what we had to bear. One blow of this instrument, delivered with intent, would cause the palm of the hand to swell up and change colour. When I say that the usual punishment of the larger boys was nine on each hand, and that nine on one hand was the absolute minimum, it will be understood that it was a severe ordeal, and that the sufferer could not, as a rule, turn the handle of the door to get out of the room in which he had suffered. To take twice nine upon a cold day was about the extremity of human endurance.

The budding poet soon found uses for his talents. He began to be aware of ‘some literary streak’ setting him apart from others. ‘There was my debut as a storyteller,’ he later told an interviewer: ‘On a wet half-holiday I have been elevated onto a desk, and with an audience of little boys all squatting on the floor, with their chins upon their hands, I have talked myself husky over the misfortunes of my heroes. Week in and week out those unhappy men have battled and striven and groaned for the amusement of that little circle.’ Even at his tender age he expected payment for his efforts. ‘I was bribed with pastry,’ he recalled. ‘Sometimes, too, I would stop dead in the very thrill of a crisis, and could only be set a-going again by apples. When I had got so far as ‘With his left hand in her glossy locks, he was waving the blood-stained knife above her head, when—’I knew that I had my audience in my power.’

As it happened, the young storyteller was introduced about now to Sir Walter Scott, a writer who would inspire even greater flights of fancy.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, NOVEMBER 25, 1870

Your letter has just come I beg of you not to take any trouble doing stockings for me, and I assure you I am quite well. I was in the infirmary yesterday but it was only because I threw up from the heat of the chapel. I have had a good rest and Ann brought me Ivanhoe to read, and now I feel jolly.* (#ulink_910063ee-c1e6-50a3-85a2-83abc89924db) I will try and write longer letters now.

Many hurrahs for the stamps some of which I had not got and for 5 of which a fellow gave me a rare Austria, Brunswick Normandy Germany and Sweden. I am glad to hear that the canaries and their 2 little owners are very well. One of the boys in our school got a fit and nearly died this morning but he is recovering now & little Guibara would have died of the croup only that it was found out that he had it I am enjoying myself very much and often look forward to Xmas.

PS My number is 31 like last year.

‘Pray continue, Watson. I find your narrative most arresting. Did you personally examine this ticket? You did not, perchance, take the number?’

‘It so happens that I did,’ I answered with some pride. ‘It chanced to be my old school number, thirty-one, and so is stuck in my head.’

—‘The Adventure of the Retired Colourman’

Many little details of his early years ‘stuck in his head’ and came out in his writings.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, NOVEMBER 29, 1870

My sickness is all gone except a slight headache, today is a half holiday but I think, and I suppose you will agree with me, that it would be best to remain quiet. I am amusing myself indoors very much however by drawing and reading and pasting in stamps, I like collecting awfully.

There is a great shindy going on, half Stonyhurst says that England has declared war with Prussia—the other section say England declared for peace, which is true?

News of the Franco-Prussian War breaking out in July 1870 was so momentous that it ‘made a ripple even in our secluded backwater’. He took France’s side, while he and his schoolmates waited eagerly to see if Britain would be drawn into the conflict. The school fostered great respect for the military: many students went on to serve in Britain’s armed forces, and to distinguish themselves in combat, with Conan Doyle later noting an unusually large number of Stonyhurst boys receiving the Victoria Cross and the Distinguished Service Order. ‘In spite of a large infusion of foreigners and some disaffected Irish, we were a patriotic crowd,’ he recalled, ‘and our little pulse beat time with the heart of the nation.’

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, DECEMBER 6, 1870

Please excuse me for not writing till now, and now writing such a beastly scrawl. I am as happy as could be, and I hope you are also. I have been thinking of anything I wanted in particular and I think that a box of those coloured paper colours would be jolly for nobody here has any.

I am so sorry for poor old France which, though I dont hear very much war news, still is I hear getting beaten. the most frightful prophecies are going about, about her I hope they are all lies. today is a half holyday and I think we will have a football match, we have just finished dinner, we have rare weather we have not had snow or ice for about a month. I have just received your letter I think that it would be no use to send me the cloister and the hearth for it might get spoiled and it is rather expensive.* (#ulink_cd3354c1-082f-5380-824a-0b6f466281e4) we had a 10 mile walk today and caught a dear little shrew mouse. I am very sorry to say that poor Mr Cassidy has taken a fit of spitting blood but he is getting better. I like Mr Splaine awfully, his father died a few weeks ago

I must now say goodbye for I am trespassing on my study time. I never was better in my life, so dont alarm yourself

Father Cyprian Splaine was the second of three Stonyhurst masters singled out in young Arthur’s letters home. Splaine catered to some of the schoolboy tastes influencing Conan Doyle’s literary directions in adulthood, but his personality—timorous and prone to outbreaks of tears—proved not very empathetic with the vigorous athletic youngster, and in a later letter, Conan Doyle sounds greatly relieved when his next form-master, Father Reginald Colley (then a young man still in his twenties), arrived on the scene.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST

A Merry Xmas and happy new year to you both and many more of them. I only hope you got a goose like mine it was truly delicious. I suppose Papa has been to the pantomime and that you have had a nice rest, Mama! The babies made a large breach in the ‘Plum Pudding’. I got your letter on Friday, I think, how nicely Tottie writes. I am glad she is doing well in schools. I hope she is enjoying herself. she wrote me a very pretty note in French a few days ago. many thanks for the Box everything was jolly. only one of the jam pots broke, but it did not do any damage. I obeyed Papa’s injunctions to the letter and had considerable success in sucking the chocolates.

I have pinned my Xmas and did not starve.* (#ulink_9b11e090-28f3-584d-9f62-718b36d74c52) We 4 fellows had as provisions for a week and 4 days 2 turkeys, one very large goose 2 chickens one large ham and 2 pieces [sic] of ham. 2 large sausages. 7 boxes of sardines. 1 of lobster. a plate full of tarts and 7 pots of jam. in the way of drink we had 5 of sherry 5 of port 1 of claret & 2 of raspberry vinegar we had also 2 bottles of Pickles.Ÿ (#ulink_aa616d4d-ab46-533b-991e-19ad21932d9e)

The festivities were as follows 1

night we had a concert with several very good comic songs. 2

night we had ‘the road to ruin’ a comedy in 5 acts and an extract from a French play, and also ‘Waiting for an omnibus’ a farce in one act.

3

night we had ‘the Courier of Lyons’ or ‘The Attack on the Mail’ a melodrama and a jolly play (5 murders)

4

night we had the same repeated

5

night we had ‘McBeth’ It was jolly. There was none left out. The best scene was the banquet when the ghost of Banquo appears. when the Witches dance round the cauldron when McBeth comes to consult the witches.

Next night we had the same.