Arthur Conan Doyle: A Life in Letters

Next night we had another concert.

Next night we had two farces ‘The wags of Windsor’ and ‘A Day at Boulougne’. yesterday we had the same.

The vacation ended this morning, all my goods are finished except Bella’s cake—for which please thank her. I have given Ann the shawl—she was very profuse in her gratitude and said I would be the finest man in England when I was big & that I would have a spirit like yours.

I will try to be very tidy and will study hard.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST, APRIL 11, 1871

As I have a little spare time, I take up my pen, which is a shockingly bad one, to write to you.

I have been requested to ask you, Ma, if I may get another suit of clothes. I can get them very cheap & good here as the Rector has a private tailor, & if I get a suit they can do for my Sunday suit for the rest of this year & then for my ordinary suit next year. But I am not allowed to get them without leave from you. A great many boys are getting new suits now for the procession at Corpus Christi.

I am improving in my lessons & am 13

instead of 19

in a school of 37 fellows.

PS write soon please

At the time above he was some six weeks short of his twelfth birthday. According to Stonyhurst records he was significantly younger than most of the other boys in his ‘school’ (grade, or form)—as much as three years younger. It is not clear why this was; by his account he was not considered advanced for his age at his earlier school in Edinburgh, nor by Stonyhurst for a long time. (The oldest boys in his form may have been held back.) But it limited his opportunities for friendship to be that much younger than most of his classmates, and only one of his lifelong friends came from his Stonyhurst days.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST

you would have heard from me some time ago, only I lately got my finger hurt so that it rendered it very painful for me to write, it was the last football match this year, and everyone was playing very hard. I was rushing after the ball, when suddenly I tripped up, and fell with outstretched hands. before I could get up someone, not being able to stop himself, stood on my hand, with such violence that for every nail in his shoe, there was left a little hole in my hand, my forefinger also was hurt and the nail came off. I have however had a lot of remedies applied to my hand and it is much better now.* (#ulink_d88db0cc-7ed5-51cb-9c7c-ae8a51c4fb24)

I send you a playbill, you will see my name at the bottom. I used up several burnt corks to make my face dirty enough. I got cheered greatly, not because I did well, but because the main point in my part was to look foolish, and I feel that I did that to perfection. both plays were relished extremely by the rest of the college. we had the good supper a week afterwards, and it fully justified it’s epithet. songs were sung as usual, I sang mine, everyone declared it was capital and that they must have another. I declared I did not know one, a master however brought me ‘the best of wives’ which I sang with the same success.

The other day Mr Splaine read us a jolly story, translated from the German, perhaps you have read it, it was called ‘The Avenger’ about a lot of horrible murders.

My lessons are getting on in first straight stile. I am much higher in my class now than last term.

Excuse the blot at the beginning

With stories like ‘The Avenger’, and plays like Macbeth and The Attack on the Mail, Conan Doyle was developing a robust taste for ‘jolly’ murder tales. The world of theatre, too, proved to be an enduring interest, and the youngster’s insistence on getting his face ‘dirty enough’ through the use of burnt corks showed a passion for realism.* (#ulink_924ee4c0-392b-5213-8fe9-dbe7ce748849)

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST

I am getting on with my latin verse & am now learning 5 latin or Greek authors, namely Ovid, Cicero, Caesar, (all latin) Xenophon (Greek) & Telemachus (french) besides this we have Ovid & Cicero & English by Heart, Latin Syntax, Greek Grammar, Rules for verse, Catechism & Geography & Greek History. altogether I have to work like anything to get a prize, my marks last term were 765 and as there are 4 terms in the year if I get 765 each time I will have at the end of the year 3060 while I only require to get 2666 to get a prize, so in that case I will get one, but it all depends if I can do as well during the remaining terms as I did last.

today is a half holiday. Football is finished now & there is no more this year but Hockey & Rounders have come in which are just as good. the Dominoes you sent me at Xmas are a great source of Amusement.

I am so glad I read most of the books we have at home, because the English theme of last term for which 100 marks is given was taken from 1 of them called Blackwood Tales, the name of the story was the Iron Shroud.

The Iron Shroud, William Mudford’s gothic tale published in Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine in 1830, featured a terrified prisoner held in a dungeon, the walls of which slowly close in to crush him to death:

That is to be my fate! Yon roof will descend!—these walls will hem me round—and, slowly, slowly, crush me in their iron arms!

The story may have lingered in Conan Doyle’s mind in 1891 as he wrote a Sherlock Holmes story in which the villain traps his victim in a hydraulic press:

I saw that the black ceiling was coming down upon me, slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew better than myself, with a force which must within a minute grind me to a shapeless pulp.

—‘The Adventure of the Engineer’s Thumb’

For the present, though, with ‘Engineer’s Thumb’ many years in the future, twelve-year-old Arthur’s more immediate concern was the ‘Foot-baller’s Finger’.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST

We had a long walk yesterday down the Ribble. it is a most beautiful stream with clear water, full of bright trout, while here and there, in the deep & dark places, some ripple on the water will show where a large salmon has come to the surface. after a long walk we came to a place where the Ribble meets the Hodder, another river of considerable size from which Hodder House derives it’s name. there is a beautiful scene here, and I wish Papa was with me to sketch it. we reached home late in the evening. My finger is getting better, but at present I have to write in this sloping way, otherwise I would rub the nail against the paper which would make it very feverish.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST

My new clothes have made their appearance. they are knickerbockers of a dark grey, jolly thick & apparently very strong. they are pretty big & have tight elastics which keep up my stockings much better than the others, I will have to get new elastics put into my old pair during the vacation for they dont keep up my stockings at all.

I got your 3

letter today. The envelopes & stamps also came in the nick of time. I am now using the little elastic band which was round the letter as a garter.

I got the neckties & pair of gloves last night, I will use the dark blue necktie for week days & the other with my new clothes, gloves, shirts, collars, & stockings for sundays. I am quite a swell. I will tell you if the things fit me whenever I have tried them on.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST

I have not been able to write to you for some time, on account of the approach of the examens, which occupied all my attention. They are now over. I was very glad to hear that I have got such a good report, I will try to get better still next time.

There is a very nice practise here, during our Lady’s month of May, of each boy, immediately after washing, going to a small basket before our Lady’s statue, in which are arranged a multitude of little papers, with all sorts of little penances or virtues written upon them. each boy draws a paper out of this basket, and whatever virtue or penance is written on it, he is obliged to practise it for that day. Thus, this morning I got one telling me to dedicate my studies this day to the Mother of God, and study particularly hard. sometimes you get a paper telling you to give 1d of your weekly money to the poor, but there are no more severe penances than that.

to Mary Doyle STONYHURST

I have good news for you, namely that Uncle Conan’s letter has gone a week ago. I thought I would never finish it. I sent him a playbill and I slily changed the A. DOYLE on the bill into A. C. DOYLE to gratify him. I hoped Aunt Susan was well several times, and I sent her an indefinite number of kisses. I send you the photograph. I am awfully sorry about that blotch behind, the truth of the matter is that having bought it during recreation I had no place to put it, so I tied it up in my handkerchief, but wishing to blow my nose soon after, I pulled out my handkerchief and the photograph tumbled out, and the back of it got dirtied. I am sure your ingenuity will soon take the dirt away.

The 3

term has just begun. I have been extremely successful last term, but I was more successful in Arithmetic than in anything else, fancy I got the 2

highest marks in the school in Arithmetic. The 6

highest in lessons and the 7

highest in History.

My finger is much better and I never felt more jolly. Football, which you reasonably observed to be a rough game, is abolished, and we are to begin ‘Stonyhurst Cricket’ tomorrow. I am Head of a match in cricket and am considered the best player of my size in the Lower Line.

My love to everybody yourself included. since you neglected the Pancakes at Shrovetide I hope you will not forget the hot X buns.

After the close of the school year Conan Doyle found the situation at home increasingly shaky, but his mother determined that he should continue at Stonyhurst. ‘Early in my career there, an offer had been made to my mother that my school fees would be remitted if I were dedicated to the Church,’ he recalled. ‘She refused this, so both the church and I had an escape. When I think, however, of her small income and great struggle to keep up appearances and make both ends meet, it was a fine example of her independence of character, for it meant some £50 a year which might have been avoided by a word of assent.’ Both she and he had also begun to fall away from the Roman Catholicism in which they were raised. In time she left the church to become an Anglican, while Conan Doyle privately renounced Catholicism before leaving school. It was the beginning of a pilgrimage that would end, forty-five years later, in his public commitment to Spiritualism.

Charles Doyle’s decline continued, meanwhile. At one point during the summer his father, who loved the outdoors, went off on an excursion with the head of the Office of Works, Robert Matheson, with Mary Doyle clearly welcoming the effect upon her husband’s increasingly fragile nerves.