Sherlock Holmes in Russia

Time has not preserved either any information about him, or his books. The Russian National Library in St Petersburg, Russia’s major library, has only one set of his stories. How gratifying, therefore, that the name of this deserving but forgotten writer now returns before the reading public, and so much more gratifying that it is to the readers of that country whose great representative he extolled and which he probably never visited. But now, a century later, he returns there by way of his works, returns to invite ‘his’ hero’s fellow countrymen and all English readers everywhere to that distant and mysterious Russia which, once upon a time, took to its heart that great recluse from Baker Street.

George Piliev

Moscow

George Piliev is an author, editor, bibliographer and historian of the mystery genre.

1 THE BROTHERS’ GOLD MINE

P. Orlovetz

I

This incident, illustrating the extraordinary perceptiveness of Sherlock Holmes, took place some ten years before the Russo-Japanese War, so disastrous for Russia.

Having visited all the major centres of European Russia, Sherlock Holmes decided to visit Russia’s possessions in Asia, which he had wanted to see for so long. I must confess that for me, Siberia represented an especially interesting part of the world. Legends and the most incredible stories were rife in England about it.

Hence, it was not surprising that, no sooner had Holmes mentioned his desire to travel there, not only did I joyfully agree to accompany him, but in every possible way urged our departure. I was afraid he might change his mind or become occupied by fresh cases which were offered from all sides in Russia.

Sherlock Holmes certainly understood what I was trying to do and scoffed good-naturedly at my impatience. Nonetheless, this impatience worked on him. And so, he turned down several lucrative but not very interesting cases, purchased the necessaries for a prolonged trip, and laid preparations for it. When at last the Siberian train left the station at Moscow, I breathed joyfully, now that my long-held wish was to come about.

The Volga River flashed by, the steppes of the Ufim province lay behind, for several hours we took in the splendid views of the Ural Mountains and then the train swept into the Siberian vastness.

Despite our expectations, we did not encounter polar bears anywhere, nor wild natives of whom French tourists wrote that they devoured not only each other but even their own children. It turned out to be like any other land mass, except that it was slovenly, muddled, sparsely inhabited, in places covered by impenetrable coniferous forests known as the taiga, which knew no boundaries and stretched as far as the Arctic Ocean.

But what surprised us most of all was the Siberian peasantry. Not only were they not downtrodden like the peasants of central Russia, they were richer and certainly more sure of themselves.

As regards education, Siberians were well ahead of their fellow citizens in the provinces of central Russia. Holmes’s explanation was that, for several centuries, the Russian authorities had settled exiled elements here. A mixture of political exiles, criminals and Cossacks (resettled here in his time by the then governor-general, Count Muravieff-Amursky) had created a very special population.

The political exiles, intelligent and educated, former criminals, creative and entrepreneurial, and freedom-loving Cossacks had intermarried and passed on their characteristics to their descendants. Thus, a new sort of people had come into existence, infinitely superior to the inhabitants of the central provinces. What is more, the bureaucracy was few and far between. And so, a down-trodden and humiliated population had become proud and independent, able to stand up for itself. Their qualities displayed themselves when the Russo-Japanese War broke out and Siberian troops showed their mettle.

At the time of which I write, the Trans-Siberian Railway had not yet been completed. Trains went only as far as Zima station, after which the bones of travellers were severely shaken by horse-drawn carriages as far as Stretensk. From Stretensk, further progress was by ship on the Amur River.

It took us eight days to get to Zima station. It was another two hundred versts to Irkutsk, i.e. a hundred and thirty miles. We just about managed to get there in one piece, every bone in our bodies aching from those damned post chaises. When we finally made it to Irkutsk, we decided to rest there.

We were interested in this city, close to so many gold mines, and decided this is where we would become acquainted with life in Siberia. We found a hotel room and settled in.

Soon enough, an incident occurred through which we were to become closely acquainted with the local gold mines and the way of life connected with them.

II