Situation vacant: creepy house with forbidden annexe seeks youthful governess to act naively with light menacing; 4 bed, six bath, plenty of free time in the afternoons.

The final Adventure of Sherlock Holmes, it’s time for…

‘The Copper Beeches’ (1892)

The Case

Having been offered a job as a governess at the isolated Copper Beeches, home of the avuncular Jephro Rucastle and his reserved, withdrawn wife, Violet Hunter consults Holmes as she is cautious by the unusual conditions of her employment: expected to cut her hair, to wear a blue dress at certain times, and to sit in a chair while told humorous stories by her employer at a moment’s notice. When Miss Hunter then sends a telegram to Holmes a few weeks after taking up the position, claiming to be at her wits’ end, our intrepid duo descend to Winchester to investigate the scene and establish what might be going on in that locked, forbidden annexe…

The Characters

Violet Hunter, governess; absolutely not found at the end of a cat’s leg.

Jephro Rucastle, home-owner; needs to lock his doors.

The Timeline

Violet Hunter calls on Holmes one “cold morning [in] early spring”, but Holmes makes reference to “[t]he small matter in which I endeavoured to help the King of Bohemia, the singular experience of Miss Mary Sutherland, the problem connected with the man with the twisted lip, and the incident of the noble bachelor,” so we can assume that this is, at least, antecedent to those cases. So…maybe March 1889?

The Tropes

Two famous quotes in one story: “Data! data! data! I can’t make bricks without clay.”, and “It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside.” One imagines that these famous instances would litter the canon, and then suddenly you come across three in one story.

Arguably a trope of Holmes and Watson’s relationship, too, is the great detective chaffing his Boswell for failing to give sufficient attention to the logic displayed in his cases, instead choosing to structure them as narratives for the interested reader: “[Y]ou have erred perhaps in attempting to put colour and life into each of your statements instead of confining yourself to the task of placing upon record that severe reasoning from cause to effect which is really the only notable feature about the thing”.

And, of course, Watson takes exception to this: “I was repelled by the egotism which I had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my friend’s singular character.”

Points of Interest

The nature of this case – that the Rucastles are keeping their daughter hostage in the curséd annex so as to continue to utilise her wealth, which will be removed from their clutches immediately she marries the nice young man she met — is very Victorian. Holmes might represent the vanguard of a new style of detection, but this is as hoary as it gets.

However, Doyle does well to reveal the details of the case as soon as he has been consulted by Violet Hunter a second time, rather than leaving the obvious explanation to the closing stages. How much more interesting, though, if he’d been wrong and the Rucastles were in fact up to some other malfeasance altogether. Not that the details really allow it, it just would have been more interesting.

Jephro Rucastle really does feel like a particularly Doylean name for a character, doesn’t it? I wondered if it might be an anagram of something, but the best I could come up with was ACE UPHOLSTER, JR. and I’m not sure that has any bearing upon this case.

What a superbly contradictory piece of characterisation he is, though. At once jolly and humorous, and yet his introduction where he takes such pride in his six year-old son’s talent for killing cockroaches is magnificently disquieting. It’s a shame he has to go all Victorian Villain and threaten to throw Violet Hunter to the mastiff in such a commonplace idiom, because apart from that he might be one of the great villains of the canon.

Also, why name this story after the house? I know it’s where everything takes place, but the house is arguably the least interesting part of the story. One wonders if Doyle toyed with other titles before throwing up his hands because a deadline was approaching and just going with something bland and obvious.

Overall, this is a solidly middle-tier Holmes story. Perhaps a good one to start with for someone who doesn’t know the canon and is looking for an intriguing introduction, the fate of the villain and the unusual structure of the solution compelling it even if the exact contents have been, and will be, bettered elsewhere.