Archives of Sherlock Holmes: Volume 1 (eBook)

Ben Congdon (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
172 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3178-1659-9 (ISBN)

Infos

The master storyteller, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, gifted the world more than 60 stories featuring the greatest detective of all time. In addition to these famous narratives, Doyle also referred to dozens of other cases which Holmes and Watson shared during their long years of partnership. These unwritten stories have sparked the imaginations of readers for generations, and now, in the Archives of Sherlock Holmes, these 'lost tales' are finally being told! Author and artist Ben Congdon is a lifelong fan of the Great Detective, and he has painstakingly studied the work of Doyle for years. With an authentic writing style, devotion to the original canon, and beautifully rendered artwork reminiscent of Paget, The Archives of Sherlock Holmes offers a chance to step back into that world of intrigue and mystery which Conan Doyle brought to vivid life more than a century ago.

Ben Congdon is an award-winning author, illustrator, and painter whose inspiring creations have appeared in publications and galleries throughout the United States. A lifelong fan of The Great Detective, Ben has painstakingly analyzed the brilliant work of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle so that he might bring to life those 'lost cases' to which Doyle alluded but never fully described.

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The Archives of Sherlock Holmes: Volume One is a first-of-its-kind collection of authentic Sherlock Holmes stories taken directly from the writings of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The untold cases of Sherlock Holmes are well known to fans of the original series. Over the years, Doyle alluded to dozens of cases, many with tantalizing details, which he would never fully describe. Author and artist Ben Congdon, has studied Doyle's brilliant work for years, and he has turned a lifelong ambition into a reality with the publication of The Archives of Sherlock Holmes. This first installment features three famous cases taken directly from Holmes canon: The Adventure of the Mad Colonel, The Ancient British Barrow, and The Adventure of the Tired Captain. With sixteen beautiful illustrations in the style of Sidney Paget, and an absolute devotion to the tone and style of the original, this book will transport the reader back to the fascinating world which Conan Doyle first crafted so brilliantly.

Textauszug

As I reflect upon the many and varied accounts which have reached the public concerning the life and career of Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I am struck how the man himself remains something of an enigma, even to his most ardent admirers. I do not make this observation with any condescension intended, for, indeed, if our long years of intimate acquaintance revealed anything, it was that every fresh insight which I gained into his character merely served to reveal more and still deeper qualities which I had yet to fathom. The united observations and shared experiences of a lifetime do not permit me, even now, to attempt to describe him in absolute and definite terms. His unrivaled powers of observation and deduction, approaching, it would seem, to pure intuition, were coupled with a truly singular personality. A mercurial nature drove him between fits of energy and complete torpor. His mood would likewise oscillate to extremes which would grip him in a supreme moment or during those long stretches of professional inactivity which I used to dread. There was never another like him, nor, I imagine, will there ever be again.

If I may claim any credit from my rambling series of sketches, it is that I resisted any temptation to sensationalize the man himself. I attempted, as was his constant injunction, to instead focus my narratives upon those minute observations and logical synthesis which allowed him to bring so much light into what appeared to be total darkness. My amazement at these feats and my admiration for his unflagging pursuit of the truth, never waned even after our long years of collaboration. However, our early days together provided me with a near-constant stream of remarkable happenings which served to illustrate his unique abilities. It is from this nascent period that I draw the following singular narrative. The grotesque circumstances surrounding the fate of old Colonel Warburton were intriguing enough in their own right to warrant a place in any collection of sinister tales. Beyond this, however, I have my own reasons for desiring to see the story laid before the public. It happened that of the many hundreds of cases in which I was directly or indirectly concerned, there were only two which I had the privilege of bringing to Holmes’ attention myself. The affair of Mr. Hatherley the hydraulic engineer and the singular mystery of Colonel Warburton’s Madness stand alone in my recollection. The former case was brought, quite literally, to my very door, while the dark business which I will now recount saw Holmes and I drawn away to the very furthest reaches of the West of England.

I remember that the early spring of 1884 was a particularly trying time for me, both in a professional and a physical sense. The medical man who desires to establish himself “ex nihilo” is compelled to bring formidable energy and resolution to bear. My constitution, however, still suffered the effects of a disastrous military campaign, and the bullet which I carried in my leg as a grim souvenir ensured a constant drain on my efforts. The effect was compounded through changes in the weather, and the wild swings of temperature which London experienced during March of that year, made me a prisoner of the little sitting room in Baker Street. Holmes was at that time experiencing the rise which would ultimately secure him the reputation as the unquestioned foremost authority in his field. More and more, auspicious clients from the highest circles came seeking the advice and assistance of the specialist. It is well known, however, that Holmes played the game for the game’s sake, and that to him, a client’s honored title was of far less consequence than the nature of the business upon which they desired clarity. It so happened that, while he was undeniably engaged in several matters at that time, they were, as he described them, “Important. But uninteresting.” This somewhat paradoxical statement was explained by his expressed belief that the more audacious and consequential the crime, the simpler the motive, and subsequently, the easier the solution. At times like these, even when some noble client awaited his results, Holmes would either lounge about our rooms or stalk here and there in agitation, searching the papers for some problem which might finally demand the exertion of his full powers.

It was early in the month when my monotonous existence was finally altered by the delivery of an unexpected letter. To my surprise I found that it came from Lieutenant Forrest Neilland, a name which had passed almost entirely from my recollection. Neilland had served in the Afghan campaign much as myself, but there had been no connection between us until one was precipitated by the gravest of emergencies. It was at the battle of Ahmed Khel that our column was ambushed by several thousand tribesmen in a narrow pass. The line held valiantly and our losses were few, but among these was Lieutenant Neilland, who had been struck twice. One glancing wound from a ricochet had come dangerously close to blinding his left eye, but a second shot had pierced his abdomen. It was a close thing, and more than once while we worked frantically to save him, I despaired of his life. Providence was on his side, however, and with every effort, the danger finally passed. Neilland was just one of a long line of stricken men brought to my operating tent, but to him, when once he realized how close he had come to crossing the veil, I became his savior, and one to whom he felt forever indebted. Brushing aside his effusive gratitude, I saw him off in a transport to a base hospital, and from thence I never expected to see him again. It was shortly after this that I was myself struck down, and so, by a tortuous route, eventually found myself back in London, weary and shattered. My relationship with Holmes notwithstanding, I had remained fairly isolated during the following years, claiming few acquaintances and even fewer friends. It seemed, however, that Neilland had not forgotten that fateful day in the Ahmed Khel pass, and he had endeavored, after a sufficient recovery, to search me out in order to express his gratitude. It was his desire, if I be amenable to it, that I should join him for a fortnight’s visit out to his small place in Aberdaron on the Welsh coast. The apparent remoteness of the location and my natural bohemianism united to the extent that at first I was dissuaded from accepting his invitation. However, upon considering the dreary state of things, the restless nature of Holmes, and the thought that a fresh atmosphere might aid in repairing my failing health, I eventually acquiesced and started off on my journey towards the Irish Sea.

I have stated elsewhere how impossible would be the telling of these heretofore unpublished cases without a heavy reliance upon the records which Holmes had kept during our long years of partnership. In addition to his notes describing this business, I was struck to also discover two very singular documents which he had filed away with the rest of his papers. The first of these was a letter which I had sent to Holmes at the close of my first week in Aberdaron. I cannot do better than to quote this letter verbatim, as it recalls the outset of this fantastic event far more clearly than my recollection alone ever could.

March the 17th.

My dear Holmes,

I don’t suppose one could imagine a more out-of-the-way place than the small hamlet in which I now find myself. I believe I have become more acclimated to the heavy envelopment of London, with her narrow lanes and oppressive gloom, than I had realized. Now, free of the shadow, and loose upon the vast, open wilds of western England, I find my system struggling to cope with the magnitude of the change. Even so, I have no doubt that the new influence is for the better, and I have every confidence that I shall return to Baker Street a renewed man. So says my host, at least, for he also sought out these craggy, windswept cliffs in an attempt to regain his fragile health, and the efficacy of his decision can be seen in his ruddy cheek and assured step. Even if the fresh sea air should fail to work a similar change in me, the stark beauty of the land cannot help but to reinvigorate one whose eyes generally see little but the dull greys and browns of London. Small patches of dense forest give way to vast wind-swept hills, covered over with lush shimmering grasses and punctuated here and there by craggy granite formations rising from the sea of green. These hills undulate like waves until they meet the ocean itself, terminating in sheer cliffs down to the foaming breakers below. I realize, however, that such descriptions are entirely lost upon your severely practical nature, and I recall how more than once you have remonstrated with me over my habit of relying upon “flowery triviality”, as you put it. Therefore, I will cease these colorful descriptions in an effort to be didactic rather than poetic.

The village of Aberdaron lies at the tip of the Llyn peninsula which forms the upper arm of Cardigan Bay. You have always been a greater student of mankind than the terrain which he inhabits, and even so isolated a settlement as this offers material and to spare. A small cluster of cottages and shops surrounded by several farmers with their irregular parcels of land make up the community of some two or three hundred souls. From the little I have seen, they are a quite interesting group- insular, suspicious, and reticent to the outsider, but on such terms of familiarity with each other, that I understand it is a common practice to appear unannounced at mealtime to share in a mate’s supper. Economy too has taken strange shape in this remote corner of...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 29.8.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Historische Romane
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3178-1659-9 / 9798317816599