The Curse of the Baskervilles

I have in my pocket a manuscript,” said Dr. James Mortimer.rnrn “I observed it as you entered the room,” said Holmes.rnrn “It is an old manuscript.”rnrn “Early eighteenth century, unless it is a forgery.”rnrn “How can you say that, sir?”rnrn “You have presented an inch or two of it to my examination allrn the time that you have been talking. It would be a poor expertrn who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may possibly have read my little monograph upon the subject. I put that at 1730.”rnrn “The exact date is 1742.” Dr. Mortimer drew it from hisrn breast-pocket. “This family paper was committed to my care by Sirrn Charles Baskerville, whose sudden and tragic death some threern months ago created so much excitement in Devonshire. I may sayrn that I was his personal friend as well as his medical attendant. He was a strong-minded man, sir, shrewd, practical, and asrn unimaginative as I am myself. Yet he took this document veryrn seriously, and his mind was prepared for just such an end as didrn eventually overtake him.”rnrn Holmes stretched out his hand for the manuscript and flattened itrn upon his knee. “You will observe, Watson, the alternative use ofrn the long _s_ and the short. It is one of several indicationsrn which enabled me to fix the date.”rnrn I looked over his shoulder at the yellow paper and the fadedrn script. At the head was written: “Baskerville Hall,” and below inrn large, scrawling figures: “1742.”rnrn “It appears to be a statement of some sort.”rnrn “Yes, it is a statement of a certain legend which runs in thern Baskerville family.”rnrn “But I understand that it is something more modern and practicalrn upon which you wish to consult me?”rnrn “Most modern. A most practical, pressing matter, which must bern decided within twenty-four hours. But the manuscript is short andrn is intimately connected with the affair. With your permission Irn will read it to you.”rnrn Holmes leaned back in his chair, placed his finger-tips together, and closed his eyes, with an air of resignation. Dr. Mortimerrn turned the manuscript to the light and read in a high, crackingrn voice the following curious, old-world narrative:rnrn “Of the origin of the Hound of the Baskervilles there have beenrn many statements, yet as I come in a direct line from Hugorn Baskerville, and as I had the story from my father, who alsorn had it from his, I have set it down with all belief that itrn occurred even as is here set forth. And I would have yourn believe, my sons, that the same Justice which punishes sin mayrn also most graciously forgive it, and that no ban is so heavyrn but that by prayer and repentance it may be removed. Learnrn then from this story not to fear the fruits of the past, butrn rather to be circumspect in the future, that those foulrn passions whereby our family has suffered so grievously may notrn again be loosed to our undoing.rnrn “Know then that in the time of the Great Rebellion (thern history of which by the learned Lord Clarendon I mostrn earnestly commend to your attention) this Manor ofrn Baskerville was held by Hugo of that name, nor can it bern gainsaid that he was a most wild, profane, and godless man. This, in truth, his neighbours might have pardoned, seeingrn that saints have never flourished in those parts, but therern was in him a certain wanton and cruel humour which made hisrn name a by-word through the West. It chanced that this Hugorn came to love (if, indeed, so dark a passion may be knownrn under so bright a name) the daughter of a yeoman who heldrn lands near the Baskerville estate. But the young maiden, being discreet and of good repute, would ever avoid him, for she feared his evil name. So it came to pass that onern Michaelmas this Hugo, with five or six of his idle andrn wicked companions, stole down upon the farm and carried offrn the maiden, her father and brothers being from home, as hern well knew. When they had brought her to the Hall thern maiden was placed in an upper chamber, while Hugo and hisrn friends sat down to a long carouse, as was their nightlyrn custom. Now, the poor lass upstairs was like to have herrn wits turned at the singing and shouting and terrible oathsrn which came up to her from below, for they say that thern words used by Hugo Baskerville, when he was in wine, werern such as might blast the man who said them. At last in thern stress of her fear she did that which might have dauntedrn the bravest or most active man, for by the aid of thern growth of ivy which covered (and still covers) the southrn wall she came down from under the eaves, and so homewardrn across the moor, there being three leagues betwixt the Hallrn and her father’s farm.rnrn “It chanced that some little time later Hugo left hisrn guests to carry food and drink—with other worse things, perchance—to his captive, and so found the cage empty andrn the bird escaped. Then, as it would seem, he became as onern that hath a devil, for, rushing down the stairs into thern dining-hall, he sprang upon the great table, flagons andrn trenchers flying before him, and he cried aloud before allrn the company that he would that very night render his bodyrn and soul to the Powers of Evil if he might but overtake thern wench. And while the revellers stood aghast at the fury ofrn the man, one more wicked or, it may be, more drunken thanrn the rest, cried out that they should put the hounds uponrn her. Whereat Hugo ran from the house, crying to his groomsrn that they should saddle his mare and unkennel the pack, andrn giving the hounds a kerchief of the maid’s, he swung themrn to the line, and so off full cry in the moonlight over thern moor.rnrn “Now, for some space the revellers stood agape, unable torn understand all that had been done in such haste. But anonrn their bemused wits awoke to the nature of the deed whichrn was like to be done upon the moorlands. Everything was nowrn in an uproar, some calling for their pistols, some forrn their horses, and some for another flask of wine. But atrn length some sense came back to their crazed minds, and thern whole of them, thirteen in number, took horse and startedrn in pursuit. The moon shone clear above them, and they rodern swiftly abreast, taking that course which the maid mustrn needs have taken if she were to reach her own home.rnrn “They had gone a mile or two when they passed one of thern night shepherds upon the moorlands, and they cried to himrn to know if he had seen the hunt. And the man, as the storyrn goes, was so crazed with fear that he could scarce speak, but at last he said that he had indeed seen the unhappyrn maiden, with the hounds upon her track. ‘But I have seenrn more than that,’ said he, ‘for Hugo Baskerville passed mern upon his black mare, and there ran mute behind him such arn hound of hell as God forbid should ever be at my heels.’ So the drunken squires cursed the shepherd and rode onward. But soon their skins turned cold, for there came arn galloping across the moor, and the black mare, dabbled withrn white froth, went past with trailing bridle and emptyrn saddle. Then the revellers rode close together, for arn great fear was on them, but they still followed over thern moor, though each, had he been alone, would have been rightrn glad to have turned his horse’s head. Riding slowly inrn this fashion they came at last upon the hounds. These, though known for their valour and their breed, werern whimpering in a cluster at the head of a deep dip or goyal, as we call it, upon the moor, some slinking away and some, with starting hackles and staring eyes, gazing down thern narrow valley before them.rnrn “The company had come to a halt, more sober men, as you mayrn guess, than when they started. The most of them would byrn no means advance, but three of them, the boldest, or it mayrn be the most drunken, rode forward down the goyal. Now, itrn opened into a broad space in which stood two of those greatrn stones, still to be seen there, which were set by certainrn forgotten peoples in the days of old. The moon was shiningrn bright upon the clearing, and there in the centre lay thern unhappy maid where she had fallen, dead of fear and ofrn fatigue. But it was not the sight of her body, nor yet wasrn it that of the body of Hugo Baskerville lying near her, which raised the hair upon the heads of these threern dare-devil roysterers, but it was that, standing over Hugo, and plucking at his throat, there stood a foul thing, arn great, black beast, shaped like a hound, yet larger thanrn any hound that ever mortal eye has rested upon. And evenrn as they looked the thing tore the throat out of Hugorn Baskerville, on which, as it turned its blazing eyes andrn dripping jaws upon them, the three shrieked with fear andrn rode for dear life, still screaming, across the moor. One, it is said, died that very night of what he had seen, andrn the other twain were but broken men for the rest of theirrn days.rnrn “Such is the tale, my sons, of the coming of the houndrn which is said to have plagued the family so sorely everrn since. If I have set it down it is because that which isrn clearly known hath less terror than that which is butrn hinted at and guessed. Nor can it be denied that many ofrn the family have been unhappy in their deaths, which havern been sudden, bloody, and mysterious. Yet may we shelterrn ourselves in the infinite goodness of Providence, whichrn would not forever punish the innocent beyond that third orrn fourth generation which is threatened in Holy Writ. Torn that Providence, my sons, I hereby commend you, and Irn counsel you by way of caution to forbear from crossing thern moor in those dark hours when the powers of evil arern exalted.rnrn “[This from Hugo Baskerville to his sons Rodger and John, with instructions that they say nothing thereof to theirrn sister Elizabeth.]”rnrn When Dr. Mortimer had finished reading this singular narrative hern pushed his spectacles up on his forehead and stared across at Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The latter yawned and tossed the end of hisrn cigarette into the fire.rnrn “Well?” said he.rnrn “Do you not find it interesting?”rnrn “To a collector of fairy tales.”rnrn Dr. Mortimer drew a folded newspaper out of his pocket.rnrn “Now, Mr. Holmes, we will give you something a little morern recent. This is the _Devon County Chronicle_ of May 14th of thisrn year. It is a short account of the facts elicited at the death ofrn Sir Charles Baskerville which occurred a few days before thatrn date.”rnrn My friend leaned a little forward and his expression becamern intent. Our visitor readjusted his glasses and began:rnrn “The recent sudden death of Sir Charles Baskerville, whose namern has been mentioned as the probable Liberal candidate forrn Mid-Devon at the next election, has cast a gloom over thern county. Though Sir Charles had resided at Baskerville Hall forrn a comparatively short period his amiability of character andrn extreme generosity had won the affection and respect of all whorn had been brought into contact with him. In these days ofrn _nouveaux riches_ it is refreshing to find a case where thern scion of an old county family which has fallen upon evil daysrn is able to make his own fortune and to bring it back with himrn to restore the fallen grandeur of his line. Sir Charles, as isrn well known, made large sums of money in South Africanrn speculation. More wise than those who go on until the wheelrn turns against them, he realised his gains and returned torn England with them. It is only two years since he took up hisrn residence at Baskerville Hall, and it is common talk how largern were those schemes of reconstruction and improvement which havern been interrupted by his death. Being himself childless, it wasrn his openly expressed desire that the whole countryside should, within his own lifetime, profit by his good fortune, and manyrn will have personal reasons for bewailing his untimely end. Hisrn generous donations to local and county charities have beenrn frequently chronicled in these columns.rnrn “The circumstances connected with the death of Sir Charlesrn cannot be said to have been entirely cleared up by thern inquest, but at least enough has been done to dispose ofrn those rumours to which local superstition has given rise. There is no reason whatever to suspect foul play, or torn imagine that death could be from any but natural causes. Sir Charles was a widower, and a man who may be said torn have been in some ways of an eccentric habit of mind. Inrn spite of his considerable wealth he was simple in hisrn personal tastes, and his indoor servants at Baskervillern Hall consisted of a married couple named Barrymore, thern husband acting as butler and the wife as housekeeper. Theirrn evidence, corroborated by that of several friends, tends torn show that Sir Charles’s health has for some time beenrn impaired, and points especially to some affection of thern heart, manifesting itself in changes of colour, breathlessness, and acute attacks of nervous depression. Dr. James Mortimer, the friend and medical attendant of thern deceased, has given evidence to the same effect.rnrn “The facts of the case are simple. Sir Charles Baskervillern was in the habit every night before going to bed of walkingrn down the famous yew alley of Baskerville Hall. Thern evidence of the Barrymores shows that this had been hisrn custom. On the fourth of May Sir Charles had declared hisrn intention of starting next day for London, and had orderedrn Barrymore to prepare his luggage. That night he went outrn as usual for his nocturnal walk, in the course of which hern was in the habit of smoking a cigar. He never returned. At twelve o’clock Barrymore, finding the hall door stillrn open, became alarmed, and, lighting a lantern, went inrn search of his master. The day had been wet, and Sirrn Charles’s footmarks were easily traced down the alley. Halfway down this walk there is a gate which leads out onrn to the moor. There were indications that Sir Charles hadrn stood for some little time here. He then proceeded downrn the alley, and it was at the far end of it that his bodyrn was discovered. One fact which has not been explained isrn the statement of Barrymore that his master’s footprintsrn altered their character from the time that he passed thern moor-gate, and that he appeared from thence onward to havern been walking upon his toes. One Murphy, a gipsyrn horse-dealer, was on the moor at no great distance at thern time, but he appears by his own confession to have been thern worse for drink. He declares that he heard cries but isrn unable to state from what direction they came. No signs ofrn violence were to be discovered upon Sir Charles’s person, and though the doctor’s evidence pointed to an almostrn incredible facial distortion—so great that Dr. Mortimerrn refused at first to believe that it was indeed his friendrn and patient who lay before him—it was explained that thatrn is a symptom which is not unusual in cases of dyspnœa andrn death from cardiac exhaustion. This explanation was bornern out by the post-mortem examination, which showedrn long-standing organic disease, and the coroner’s juryrn returned a verdict in accordance with the medical evidence. It is well that this is so, for it is obviously of thern utmost importance that Sir Charles’s heir should settle atrn the Hall and continue the good work which has been so sadlyrn interrupted. Had the prosaic finding of the coroner notrn finally put an end to the romantic stories which have beenrn whispered in connection with the affair, it might have beenrn difficult to find a tenant for Baskerville Hall. It isrn understood that the next of kin is Mr. Henry Baskerville, if he be still alive, the son of Sir Charles Baskerville’srn younger brother. The young man when last heard of was inrn America, and inquiries are being instituted with a view torn informing him of his good fortune.”rnrn Dr. Mortimer refolded his paper and replaced it in his pocket. “Those are the public facts, Mr. Holmes, in connection with thern death of Sir Charles Baskerville.”rnrn “I must thank you,” said Sherlock Holmes, “for calling myrn attention to a case which certainly presents some features ofrn interest. I had observed some newspaper comment at the time, butrn I was exceedingly preoccupied by that little affair of thern Vatican cameos, and in my anxiety to oblige the Pope I lost touchrn with several interesting English cases. This article, you say, contains all the public facts?”rnrn “It does.”rnrn “Then let me have the private ones.” He leaned back, put hisrn finger-tips together, and assumed his most impassive and judicialrn expression.rnrn “In doing so,” said Dr. Mortimer, who had begun to show signs ofrn some strong emotion, “I am telling that which I have not confidedrn to anyone. My motive for withholding it from the coroner’srn inquiry is that a man of science shrinks from placing himself inrn the public position of seeming to indorse a popular superstition. I had the further motive that Baskerville Hall, as the paperrn says, would certainly remain untenanted if anything were done torn increase its already rather grim reputation. For both thesern reasons I thought that I was justified in telling rather lessrn than I knew, since no practical good could result from it, butrn with you there is no reason why I should not be perfectly frank.rnrn “The moor is very sparsely inhabited, and those who live nearrn each other are thrown very much together. For this reason I saw arn good deal of Sir Charles Baskerville. With the exception of Mr. Frankland, of Lafter Hall, and Mr. Stapleton, the naturalist, there are no other men of education within many miles. Sirrn Charles was a retiring man, but the chance of his illness broughtrn us together, and a community of interests in science kept us so. He had brought back much scientific information from Southrn Africa, and many a charming evening we have spent togetherrn discussing the comparative anatomy of the Bushman and thern Hottentot.rnrn “Within the last few months it became increasingly plain to mern that Sir Charles’s nervous system was strained to the breakingrn point. He had taken this legend which I have read you exceedinglyrn to heart—so much so that, although he would walk in his ownrn grounds, nothing would induce him to go out upon the moor atrn night. Incredible as it may appear to you, Mr. Holmes, he wasrn honestly convinced that a dreadful fate overhung his family, andrn certainly the records which he was able to give of his ancestorsrn were not encouraging. The idea of some ghastly presencern constantly haunted him, and on more than one occasion he hasrn asked me whether I had on my medical journeys at night ever seenrn any strange creature or heard the baying of a hound. The latterrn question he put to me several times, and always with a voicern which vibrated with excitement.rnrn “I can well remember driving up to his house in the evening somern three weeks before the fatal event. He chanced to be at his hallrn door. I had descended from my gig and was standing in front ofrn him, when I saw his eyes fix themselves over my shoulder andrn stare past me with an expression of the most dreadful horror. Irn whisked round and had just time to catch a glimpse of somethingrn which I took to be a large black calf passing at the head of thern drive. So excited and alarmed was he that I was compelled to gorn down to the spot where the animal had been and look around forrn it. It was gone, however, and the incident appeared to make thern worst impression upon his mind. I stayed with him all thern evening, and it was on that occasion, to explain the emotionrn which he had shown, that he confided to my keeping that narrativern which I read to you when first I came. I mention this smallrn episode because it assumes some importance in view of the tragedyrn which followed, but I was convinced at the time that the matterrn was entirely trivial and that his excitement had norn justification.rnrn “It was at my advice that Sir Charles was about to go to London. His heart was, I knew, affected, and the constant anxiety inrn which he lived, however chimerical the cause of it might be, wasrn evidently having a serious effect upon his health. I thought thatrn a few months among the distractions of town would send him back arn new man. Mr. Stapleton, a mutual friend who was much concerned atrn his state of health, was of the same opinion. At the last instantrn came this terrible catastrophe.rnrn “On the night of Sir Charles’s death Barrymore the butler, whorn made the discovery, sent Perkins the groom on horseback to me, and as I was sitting up late I was able to reach Baskerville Hallrn within an hour of the event. I checked and corroborated all thern facts which were mentioned at the inquest. I followed thern footsteps down the yew alley, I saw the spot at the moor-gatern where he seemed to have waited, I remarked the change in thern shape of the prints after that point, I noted that there were norn other footsteps save those of Barrymore on the soft gravel, andrn finally I carefully examined the body, which had not been touchedrn until my arrival. Sir Charles lay on his face, his arms out, hisrn fingers dug into the ground, and his features convulsed with somern strong emotion to such an extent that I could hardly have swornrn to his identity. There was certainly no physical injury of anyrn kind. But one false statement was made by Barrymore at thern inquest. He said that there were no traces upon the ground roundrn the body. He did not observe any. But I did—some little distancern off, but fresh and clear.”rnrn “Footprints?”rnrn “Footprints.”rnrn “A man’s or a woman’s?”rnrn Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voicern sank almost to a whisper as he answered.rnrn “Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!”