Sherlock Holmes in Russia Page 2

  The success of mass culture was described by Chukovsky in his book, Nat Pinkerton and Contemporary Literature, (St Petersburg, 1908) as a thoroughly unwelcome phenomenon. ‘This invasion, this wave, this flood…. Our intelligentsia suddenly vanished … for the first time in a century our youth had neither “ideas” nor a “programme” … in art, pornography reigns, and in literature, riff-raff have taken over … some primitive has appeared out of nowhere and has swallowed up, in a year or two, our literature and art.’

  Chukovsky referred to mass culture as the literature of a multimillion primitives. In 1907, a new deity appeared, namely the Russian equivalent of the American dime novel, which had appeared in 1860 and became particularly popular with the dawn of a new century. These, known as ‘penny novels’ (from the Russian word for grosh, the equivalent of a penny) had come from Germany. They then began their existence in Warsaw (in Polish, Poland being part of the Russian empire) and then, in the autumn of 1907, penetrated the heart of the Russian empire. It all began in September, early October. In that short interval, the first of several detective series appeared: in Petersburg, Pinkerton, Ace Detective, also in Petersburg, a Russian novel in separate parts by an anonymous author, In the Trap of Crime. The Murder of Countess Zaretzkaya; in Warsaw, a long, sensational novel based on the notes of the famous German agent of the CID, Gaston Rene and also in Germany, Sherlock Holmes; His Sojourn in Germany or The Secret of the Red Mask And, again in Petersburg, a series of forty-eight stories appeared in booklet form under the general title, From the Secret Documents of the Famous Detective Sherlock Holmes.

  This new Sherlock Holmes, as Chukovsky so aptly noted, ‘took away from the [original] Sherlock Holmes his violin, threw off his shoulders the last that was left of Childe Harold’s cloak, took away all human emotions and notions, gave him a revolver and said, “Keep on shooting and let there be lots of blood. If you shoot, shoot them dead … you’ll get paid for your heroism. And no need for your Baker Street, get an office.” Kornei Chukovsky’s bitterness was genuine. The False Sherlock Holmes of anonymous writers did not have an iota of the human feelings for which the real Sherlock Holmes was liked so much. But, points out Leonid Borisoff, who wrote Conan Doyle’s biography in Russian, ‘in contradistinction to Nat Pinkerton, the authors of the Holmes stories, sometimes even educated writers, wrote better’.

  The success of these penny dreadfuls was phenomenal. For an entire generation of Russian boys, these cheap booklets were the brightest events of their childhood and boyhood. Unsurprisingly, the demand grew to become a phenomenon on a national scale. In 1908, these Russian equivalents of penny dreadfuls increased to unprecedented numbers. Entertainment, the Petersburg publisher, alone issued 3,334,000 copies. It ranked third in the number of publications amongst 140 publishers. In 1908, a book exhibition in St Petersburg maintained that in that year Russia published 12,000,000 of these ‘grosh’ (i.e. penny) booklets. Individual booklets had print runs of 75,000 and even 200,000. And this at a time when the average print run for a book was not above 3,000 copies. Following the first Pinkertons and Sherlock Holmes, there appeared immediately in Russia Nick Carter (the American Sherlock Holmes), Lord Lister (the Police Terror), Jean Lecoq (the first living international detective), Bill Cannon (the famous American Police Inspector), Vidocq (the famous French detective), Harriet Bolton-Wright (woman detective), Treff (Russia’s top detective), Count Stagart (German detective), Ethel King (female Sherlock Holmes), Avno Azeff (anarchist detective), the nameless detective of the Black Hundreds (the notorious anti-Semitic gangs) and many, many others. Their name is legion. Smart publishers and smart writers all used famous detectives and non-detectives, literary heroes and real people, turning them into the heroes of their penny dreadfuls, trying to turn a penny out of a big name. Of course, one of the most popular ‘victims’ of their trade was Sherlock Holmes.

  Today, major Russian libraries haven’t a hundredth of all such literature published in Russia. This is why it is impossible to account for the number of Sherlock Holmes series. But from what we know now, of major series (i.e. five or more issues) in 1907–1910 there were more than a score. The most famous, with the greatest number, was N. Alexandroff’s publishing house Entertainment, which was in the vanguard of mass literature and the main supplier of penny dreadfuls. From 5 April 1908 to 3 April 1910, Entertainment published twenty-eight Sherlock Holmes stories, whose combined print run came to 2,261,000 copies.

  Some stories were translated or home-made, but whether the authors were Russian or foreign, the action was always abroad. But very soon Russian authors began to display a new method of ‘borrowing’ someone else’s hero. They ‘sent off’ the great Baker Street detective (or was it his ‘double?’) to far-away Russia! What could be simpler! Now Sherlock Holmes speaks Russian fluently and conducts his investigations in different corners of Russia!

  It all began on 19 January 1908, when the Petersburg newspaper Stock Exchange News began to publish Sherlock Holmes in Petersburg by an anonymous author. This was followed by three more Holmes’ stories. Their success was to come when they were reprinted as a supplement to Stock Exchange News, being part of the magazine Ogoniok. The first issue (of 23 March) contained Sherlock Holmes in Moscow. The introduction read, in part, ‘The manuscript arrived under somewhat mysterious circumstances. “I am sending Sherlock Holmes in Moscow, a narrative of his Moscow adventures, by registered post”, read the unsigned telegram.’ A later issue carried an indignant letter from Sherlock Holmes to the editorial board of Ogoniok. In it, he demanded that the anonymous author must be stopped. The success of the hoax was palpable. There even arose a case, Sherlock Holmes vs. the Magazine Ogoniok, which many readers accepted as genuine. But S. Propper, the publisher of the magazine, achieved his aim. The popularity of the magazine grew. It also set a precedent. Now it became permissible to ‘transplant’ Sherlock Holmes to Russia and for his services to be commissioned by Russian clients. And so it went on and on….

  The poor devil from Baker Street, against his will, covered the length and breadth of Russia! Russian authors ‘despatched’ him to Petersburg, Moscow, Odessa, Baku, Simbirsk, Penza, Novorossiisk, Tomsk, to small provincial towns and even the villages of the vast Russian empire. But, unlike the penny dreadfuls, these nearly always carried the author’s name, sometimes only a pseudonym. And another distinction, now these were not short stories but longer works, novels and even plays. The literary level of these creations was not high, but there were some examples of quality. One example of the latter was Sherlock Holmes in Penza, in the April–May, 1908 issue of Penza News. Another example was From the Memoirs of a Resident of Petersburg, about Sherlock Holmes, containing The Three Emeralds of Countess V.-D., by someone called N. Mihailovitch. This deals with the unknown circumstances following the epic struggle between Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty, when Holmes disappeared over the waterfall. Mihailovitch tells us, for most of that time, Holmes was in Russia, where he lived as William Mitchell. The plot deals with the mysterious murder which took place in Petersburg. The story was not without a curious addition. It includes the presence of the daughter of Arsene Lupin! This sort of thing did happen frequently enough when the character of one detective novel could become simultaneously Sherlock Holmes and Nat Pinkerton and Nick Carter and Arsene Lupin.

  There were many stories of a ‘Russian’ Sherlock Holmes. Presented in this volume are two by P. Orlovetz. From his surname we might surmise that he came from the city or region of Oriol. He was a prolific writer, author of novels and novellas, short stories and children’s stories. Little is known of him.

  But the most popular and most prolific was P. Nikitin, whose stories are presented in this volume. His span of literary activity was very short, from 19 July 1908 (the publication of the first collection, The Latest Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in Russia. From the Notebooks of the Great Detective), till 30 May 1909 (when the last collection came out, On the Track of Criminals. The Adventures of the Resurrected Sherlock Holmes in
Russia). In less than a year altogether, P. Nikitin published four collections. In the intervals between their publication, the entire cycle appeared (on the analogy of penny dreadfuls in separate small booklets but in a much more attractive format) in two series, The Latest Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in Russia, and The Resurrected Sherlock Holmes in Russia. All in all, Nikitin published twenty-one stories.

  P. Nikitin may have been the most prolific and interesting of the authors of Sherlock Holmes pastiches, but, sad to say, we know absolutely nothing about him. Who was he? Where did he spring from?’ What does the initial ‘P’ stand for? Peter, Paul, Policarp? Not one writers’ reference work, not a single encyclopedia, nowhere is his name to be found. We don’t even know whether Nikitin is his real name or a pseudonym.

  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

  Sherlock Holmes and I had long since abandoned any attempt at travelling incognito. And since Russians as a people are curious by nature, there was no shortage of gawkers around us. Sherlock Holmes’s fame had penetrated Siberia and, wherever we would go, we were surrounded by curiosity seekers. There were even those who, for no apparent reason, invited us for a meal, probably to see for themselves the eating habits of an English detective.

  So it wasn’t surprising that, on one occasion, sitting in our hotel room, we heard a knock on the door. In answer to our invitation to enter, there did so a well-dressed, purple-nosed robust man.

  ‘All the same, I do beg your pardon that, so to speak, I intrude and etc.,’ burst forth from him in a deep bass. As is customary with Siberians, his speech was peppered with ‘all the same’ and ‘as it is’.

  ‘How can I be of service?’ asked Holmes.

  ‘Have mercy on my plight and help me all the same,’ he said. ‘I am one of the owners of the so-called Brothers’ Gold Mine and I am here to seek your help.’

  ‘Do sit down, please,’ Sherlock Holmes invited him. ‘I have time to spare and there is no need for you to hurry.’

  ‘All the same, thank you,’ bowed the man.

  He ran his hand through his beard, then through his hair and sat down. ‘As it is, the surname is Hromikh. We are two brothers, Sergey and me. I am Piotr Haritonovitch,’ he said giving his name and patronymic in the Russia manner. ‘That’s why our mine is called the “Brothers’ Mine”. The mine is quite a distance from here, all the same, the road is bearable, the gold takings are good, and the equipment as good as possible. All would be well, if it weren’t for the thieving. As it is, this thieving has developed so systematically and on such a scale that we hardly make ends meet. We have our own spies in the mine and they assure us that most of the gold is stolen and then smuggled out by our very own manager, a fellow named Zinovy Andreyevitch Seltzoff. But we can’t believe this to be so. On two occasions, driven out of our minds by what was happening, we intercepted him along the road as he was leaving and found not a grain of gold. As it is, our situation is dire, and we would ask you to take up our case. We are prepared to pay you a third of the value of the stolen gold, if only you were to find out how it is done.’ He fell silent and gave Sherlock Holmes a beseeching look.

  ‘How far is your mine?’ asked Holmes.

  ‘Just under eighty miles.’

  ‘And how many roads lead to it?’

  ‘As it is, just the one.’

  ‘Is there a place for us to stay?’

 
‘As it is, of course!’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Sherlock Holmes, ‘though I have to admit that I take your case mostly for the opportunity of visiting a gold mine and becoming acquainted with its running.’

  ‘Oh, if only you knew how grateful I am,’ exclaimed our visitor. ‘Well then, do let me express my appreciation by inviting you to dine with me.’

  We accepted. A room was specially set aside for us in our hotel and to the amazement of Mr Piotr Haritonovitch Hromikh we changed for dinner. Over dinner, as was to be expected, we discussed the matter freely.

  ‘How long ago did you begin to notice the theft of the gold?’ asked Holmes, by the by.

  ‘That’s the whole point. Strange as it may seem, large-scale theft began three years ago, just when we appointed the new manager.

  ‘And the thieving is from the office?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ exclaimed the mine owner. ‘That would be daylight robbery. All the same, what I am speaking of is only of contraband.’

  ‘Explain yourself.’

  ‘This is how it works. All the mined gold has to be handed in to the office. Once the sand has been washed, the gold that remains is handed in to the office, nor can it be stolen from the equipment used for washing. But in addition to gold grains obtained by washing sand, there are also gold nuggets to be found. These nuggets are of differing sizes, some several pounds in weight, and they are found by labourers in trenches from which they dig out gold-bearing soil and transfer them on to wheelbarrows for washing. These nuggets are easily detected by the naked eye. The labourers may pick them up manually, but are obliged to place them in containers handily kept there. For these nuggets they are rewarded with a bonus of two and a half roubles per zolotnik of weight, i.e. just over four and a quarter grams. But, despite the most vigilant attention of the supervising staff, all the same, they still manage to steal nuggets and swap them for alcohol. The nominal price of gold is five and a half roubles per zolotnik. The men who steal this gold are pursued by the administration by every possible means, and if any is found when they are searched, it is confiscated. Our spies tell us that the manager himself buys up the stolen gold from the men and manages to get it out of the mine. He gives the men alcohol, confectionery and other forbidden stuff.’