Watson's Take on The Adventure Of The Yellow Face: Discovered, Obtained, and Allowed For Publication.

[Inspector Baynes]

My CONFESSIONS UPON
THE ADVENTURE OF THE YELLOW FACE

Dr. John H. Watson, M.D.

 

    It has been fully three days now since I completed and sent for publication, under title of ”The Adventure of the Yellow Face,” a sketch of the peculiar events transpiring at Norbury which eventually brought Mr. Grant Munro to the door of my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes in search of aid.  I must confess even now, upon this fourth morning following, I am still unsettled in mind about the entire affair, and my friend’s most unnatural and unsatisfactory handling of it.   

    Holmes is without question in possession of considerable exceptional talents, a broad and admirable knowledge within his sphere, and a singular devotion to his pursuit of facts and solutions. I suppose I must acknowledge I have come to expect seeing these displayed in full measure routinely and regardless of circumstance, once he has decided to pursue a problem brought to him.  It is this same knowledge of his nature and capabilities giving me such surprise and discomfiture at his shortcomings with this case. 

    Wishing to put this from my mind and eliminate the distasteful sentiments regarding it altogether, I have determined to lay my thoughts and displeasures out upon paper, and thus divest myself of the matter entirely. Both this writing and these notes upon the case shall then be buried forever away in the hope they, and my unhealthy burden over the matter, may never see light of day again.

 

    It was upon the Monday of the week.  The day was most glorious, and I purposed to take a walk in the park, having no intention of wasting it holed up within our rooms.  I ventured to ask my friend if he should care to join me, though I knew of his reluctance to take exercise without purpose. I thought it would be far preferable to the alternative he might choose in my absence, as he had been some time without a case.  The state of frustration and depression still his frequent companion during such times was becoming increasingly evident as he resorted to his seven percent solution.  He had spent the morning fidgeting at various interests, clearly unable to find some occupation he felt to be a satisfactory use of his time.

    “All right then, Watson,” he cried to my surprise, tossing his hands into the air. “No doubt I shall suffer your indignations in some fashion, should I refuse” he said, and began gathering his things.

    “Thank you”, I replied.  “I shall enjoy your company. And it should be far better for you, I’m sure, than continuing to writhe around in your misery as you are here in these rooms.” 

    It was about two when we stepped out, and after our time in the park, nearly five upon our return to the lodgings.  Following so pleasant a time, I must say I was taken aback at Holmes’ most reproachful look and stinging comments toward me when the pageboy advised we had missed a visitor. It was unusual of him too, as the lad was still within hearing range, and my friend had always been most cautious to avoid our infrequent disagreements being overheard in the past.

    Holmes’ reproach also included the first among the most unusual series of inaccurate and untimely conclusions I have ever seen and should ever hope to see from him. 

    “And this looks, from the man’s impatience, as if it were of importance,” said he with some little passion.  Such a declaration, unsupported as it yet was by facts or evidence, caught my attention.  Often the most obviously impatient, agitated, and distraught seekers for Holmes’ services had made their way to our door, only to find their cases rejected as containing the most commonplace and easily resolved problems—the merest flights of fancy—he concluding they did not deserve his attentions or involvement, and from which he seemed to take some small measure of amusement due to their evident level of concern. 

    There followed then these most remarkable inaccuracies from the first of his examinations into the situation—his observations upon the pipe left behind by the as yet unknown Mr. Grant Munro.

    Holmes first declared the man to be left-handed, as “he has been in the habit of lighting his pipe at lamps and gas-jets,” and the char was to be seen entirely upon the right side.  Holmes reasoned we use our most normal hand in holding the pipe while lighting, and such “has long been held to be so.” 

    Yet I am afraid I must conclude otherwise.  The right-handed man is most likely to hold the lamp in his normal, or stronger, hand the more easily to control it.  The weaker hand holds the pipe, which is lighter and easier to handle.  Thus, the char from the lamp on the right side of the pipe would indicate the owner to be right-handed.  In addition, lighting at gas-jets, commonly found upon the walls and stairways in the home, would entirely be dependent upon which sides one may have their gas laid in and which direction the lamps are approached from.  The same circumstances attend the gas-jets found outside the home.  This normally provides for char on both sides of the pipe, regardless of which might be the “normal hand” of the owner. As we were both smokers of the pipe, having our own evidence first-hand, I found such a conclusion on his part to be unsettling.  I might myself have as well concluded the owner used the pipe in just one setting—in a consistent location, where only one lamp or jet was readily available and always used—or he was one-handed, having lost his right through some misfortune, and so only the left remained. There are other possibilities.

    Then, said he, the man was “muscular” and with “an excellent set of teeth”, as the pipe’s amber had been bitten through.  Yet it is well known any set of muscles worked to the exclusion of others may develop such a strength as to be inconsistent with the rest of the physique.  Such is common with many a person who is a grinder of the teeth out of nervous habit.  A strength of jaw most sufficient to bite through amber will develop, without the person being otherwise muscular; and the teeth in such a case would almost certainly be damaged to some degree, rather than in excellent condition.  That the visitor must have the characteristics Holmes deduced was entirely unusual of him, and, I felt, unworthy of his talents—worse than his blunder concluding the owner to be left-handed.  I had just determined to challenge him upon these matters but was forestalled by Mr. Munro’s arrival.

    These, however, were followed by even more fantastic events.

    Although, as I recorded in my sketch for the publisher, my friend appeared to listen intently to our visitor’s statement as he spoke, Holmes’ questions immediately following the narrative revealed otherwise. 

    “Could you swear this was a man’s face which you saw at the window?” Holmes asked.  Yet Mr. Munro had already clearly indicated he could tell nothing from it. He repeated as much again upon the question.  Why would my friend need to extract such repetition from the man?

    “How long is it since your wife asked you for a hundred pounds,” he asked?  Mr. Munro had already declared “six weeks past” to be the time.  How had Holmes missed it?  And as so often happens upon such questioning, a much less precise “about two months” was the reply.  Such a change from precision to vaguery could serve only to bring mud into the waters.  It seemed to me the question was entirely without necessity or merit.

    “And yet she had a certificate of death. You say you saw it,” Holmes stated regarding her first husband.  This was, perhaps, the most instructive and important of Munro’s statements, but my friend entirely missed the importance of it, both when made during Munro’s presentation and now again as Holmes asked him to validate it.  There was no mention of a similar certificate for the daughter, who had clearly been identified to exist as well. How did Holmes fail to seize hold of this, and pursue it?  I purposed to question it myself, but Holmes moved promptly to send Mr. Munro out, return to check upon the house again, and report back. The opportunity passed.

    These cumulative events caused me no small concern, and to conclude things might be amiss.  It did not take long, however, for my unease to grow into distress. 

 

    Holmes only rarely shared his thoughts about a case, with me or with anyone, before he had most, if not all, the facts in hand, and most frequently the solution as well.  He had a certain penchant for the dramatic and enjoyed contriving the manner of delivery for his revelations.  Yet at this time, when his comments upon the case brought me to ask if he had already some theory, my friend unfolded what he called a “provisional one”; a most bizarre and implausible speculation, built upon an unfounded conclusion; “her first husband was alive and in the cottage.”

    Some of the difficulties upon his statement must be exposed now, if I am to unburden myself of this unfortunate business. 

    It was clear to me from his questioning of Mr. Munro, and the recitation of his following “provisional theory,” he was solely focused upon just one line of reasoning. Mr. John Hebron, Effie Munro’s first husband, must be in the cottage in spite of the certificate of death. The result was his fantastic construction of either “hateful qualities” or “some loathsome disease” to effect the necessary separation of the two, and Effie’s relocation from America, all the while never acknowledging, explaining, or resolving the existence of the death certificate which had so clearly been seen by Mr. Munro. 

    With so strong a contradiction, so abundant a number of other possibilities, and no facts at hand serving to add clarity for the problem, I could not understand his abnormal focus on just one immediate and possible conclusion, from which all else must flow. I could not agree he held it just as a provisional theory—a possibility in his mind.  He was set.  Resolute.  And most unfortunately, it formed the unshakable foundation stone from which all events in the case unfolded, first to last. Yet it was entirely contrary to his normal insistence and cautions never to draw conclusions in advance of facts. 

    Another evidence of his departure from form was his off-hand remark regarding the photograph Effie Munroe had taken to the occupant. It “had probably been demanded from her.”  While my own powers of deduction are no doubt of small merit, I cannot see how Holmes can have come to such a thought.  The photograph was only some three months previously done, as Mr. Munro had advised.  How would the unwanted visitor have known of it?  Were we to think Mrs. Munro herself had told them?  And if so, with what possible reason or hope?  Could she dare to think they, who had not been satisfied with her previous bribe of a hundred pounds according to Holmes’ theory, might yet be satisfied by the addition of such a trifle?  I could hardly convince myself then, nor can I now, she would have mentioned it to them.  So, as she undoubtedly knew with what joy Mr. Munro had given it to her, should we not rather think it would take an even greater joy for her to part with it, to the possible detriment of her relationship with her new husband, and so pursue additional theories along those lines, since the visitor could not have known of its existence otherwise?

    And further, if the new visitor was there with intent to cause some mischief or grief, why would they not have done so upon Mr. Munro’s first rush into the house, rather than allowing themselves to be willingly, as it would seem, hurried out the back door and into the woods to be hidden?  Would this not have been the best time to seize their opportunity for mischief, seeing there was little or no progress in further efforts at extortion from Effie?

 

    No.  No. There were too many problems with my friend’s theory. There were too many facts yet to probe, regardless of the definitive, almost challenging manner with which he presented it.  Never before had I heard him begin with “How else can we explain it…”, even in those few times he had shared his thoughts with me in advance of his solution.
    Just as Mr. Munro had said he’d “framed theory after theory,” the Holmes I knew would have been doing the same, awaiting evidence and facts to unfold in support or disproval of each one.  Even the opportunity to ask Mr. Munro of his own theories was not taken, though Holmes had often asked others (and myself) for their thoughts as a check upon his own.

    Thus, when my friend asked after my thoughts upon his imaginings, for such I must call them, I responded somewhat curtly, “It is all surmise.” I hoped my brevity and candor might shake him from his unusual posture.  There was some hope in his reply - “But at least it covers all the facts.  When new facts come to our knowledge…it will be time…to reconsider it.”

 

  Unfortunately, the end did not bear out such hope.  No further facts were pursued, and no further possibilities considered.  Even obvious questions readily at hand were not brought.  Could Mr. Munro tell us the height to which the unsettling figure seemed to rise above the bottom of the window, which might help in determining the occupant’s size?  Did he recall other things he had seen in the room when he plunged in, to help Holmes in identifying the occupant, or at least whether it was man or woman, or even child?  Did the figure appear to stand at the window, or to sit?  Did it move? If it had indeed been a full-grown male such as Effie Munro’s former husband, could he have so easily been “quickly snatched from the window”?  So many thoughts unanswered, yet needing to be determined.

  At the last, when we finally traveled to Norbury, Mr. Sherlock Holmes made what I must consider to be his biggest mistake of all.  Though he held the theory we were involved with a blackmailer at the best; when he could have brought the matter fully within his grasp by further first-hand investigation; when he could have verified his theory, or rebuilt it based upon new evidence; when he could have resolved a crime for which there may have been some reason for proper legal involvement and an arrest; at this one critical juncture of time my friend relinquished all authority and involvement in the matter, and simply stood aside. All decision about the course of action to take was given entirely over to Mr. Grant Munro himself—the very man among us who was in the worst possible position and worst mental and emotional state to be entrusted with considering a possible course of action.  He charged forth in a headlong rush and with total abandonment of caution and threw himself into the most unthinkable dangers, Holmes and myself plunging in behind with just as little thought and caution. Death could easily have been the result for us all.

    I confess, to this day I do not know what led to Sherlock Holmes’ imbalance in the course of this case.  I shall never be able to reconcile for myself his total departure from all he held dear about his singular talents and his chosen profession—what caused him to lose sight of solving problems for problems’ sake, and of gathering facts without drawing conclusions until the inevitable and incontrovertible solution is at hand—those cherished beliefs ever his sole objective and his tour de force. 

    I can only hope there is no repeat of these same disparities in his future.  He must ever be in command if the world is to benefit from his talents.  My friend’s final request to me—that I whisper ‘Norbury’ in his ear as his clue he is in need to reconsider—was the singular joyous moment in the affair at its end, and continues to provide me with hope for my hope to this day.

    While I may not be responsible for my friend’s attitudes, decisions and actions, I cannot but confess to having been sorely disappointed by his performance and dismayed at his failure, while at the same time believing if I had at some point chosen different words or methods to challenge his theory, or had I intruded more forcefully upon the course of the investigation and insisted upon seeking alternatives, I might have somehow prevented this most unfortunate of failures among all his cases.  Yet I can be elated the matter was not a serious one, and the combined failures of the three of us, Holmes, Munro, and myself, had no worse a result than they did. 

    I attempted, in writing “The Adventure of the Yellow Face” for the public, to present it in such a light as might provide some justification, and some small joy, in including it among his published cases, yet still reveal the deficiencies to which even he, the most masterful reasoning machine I’ve ever known, has been at least on this one occasion subject, in hope it be kindly received and do him no harm, while still serving as a warning to us all.  If even he who is possessed of such abundant and strong powers can so badly fail and fall, what of the rest of us?  Yet it was what it has been, and so, it seems, shall it ever be. He continues to this day and remains the world’s only consulting detective.

Note To The Reader:  The manuscript whose contents are presented here was found in the remains of an old building in London, England. It has been passed through generations of members within the family, a copy finally being presented me for review.  It is provided with permission and in respect, knowing the great love - almost reverence - held by so many for both the detective Sherlock Holmes, and his chronicler, Dr. John H. Watson, M.D. These facts should be known.

Lloyd R. Hedberg Jr.  (Inspector Baynes)
8/2/2010

  Rev. 12/14/2022

Note:  this is likely a bit long to post directly to the forum.  I've not 'won the day' with the website yet so I can upload it there and just link to it.  Moderators, feel free to eliminate if unfitting.

Meanwhile, if OK, what do you think of Watson's

take and difficulties with Holmes's handling of the case?
Inspector Baynes.

[Carol the Dabbler]

30 minutes ago, Inspector Baynes said:

Note:  this is likely a bit long to post directly to the forum.  I've not 'won the day' with the website yet so I can upload it there and just link to it.  Moderators, feel free to eliminate if unfitting.

The length seems to be required in order to present all the points in detail.  My only possible objection would be that this could perhaps have been placed in a different subforum (perhaps "Other Versions" or fanfiction), but taken as commentary on "The Yellow Face," it fits very nicely here.

34 minutes ago, Inspector Baynes said:

... what do you think of Watson's take and difficulties with Holmes's handling of the case?

Been a while since I read the original story, but this jibes nicely with what I do recall.  As a relative newcomer to the canon, I say well done!

 

[Inspector Baynes]

4 minutes ago, Carol the Dabbler said:

My only possible objection would be that this could perhaps

Let me know where you feel things like this best fit.
As I go through the next year and more, I'll be doing "Mullings on the Master's Works" - one each month.  There will be a 'short version' to be included perhaps in my Scion Club's monthly newsletter, and a "long version" - the thorough presentation of my 'personal mullings' on the case.

[Inspector Baynes]

24 minutes ago, Carol the Dabbler said:

commentary on "The Yellow Face," it fits very nicely here

I would guess the upcoming "Mullings" would fit here as well then maybe, since they will be strictly 'commentary' on the cases...they won't be written as Watson's thougts.  (Though I may end up doing a few of those as well over time.)

[Carol the Dabbler]

On 12/23/2022 at 9:07 PM, Inspector Baynes said:

Let me know where you feel things like this best fit.

If you're planning to do some canon-story commentaries that could NOT be interpreted as fan fiction, then I'd say just keep 'em all here.

You might consider also posting Watson's comments on "The Yellow Face" on AO3 ( https://archiveofourown.org/ ), though.  It works equally well as commentary and as fan fiction.