Tag: Sherlock Holmes

MAY 9, 1671: STALKING THE CROWN JEWELS

Posted on by Richard Daybell

In the movie The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Holmes’ nemesis Professor Moriarty is out to steal the crown jewels. His  battle of wits with Holmes over England’s great treasure lasts about an hour.  Earlier, an Irishman, Colonel Thomas Blood, attempted the same feat with a much more elaborate plan.

Colonel Blood set the plan in motion in April with a visit to the Tower of London. Dressed as a parson and accompanied by a woman pretending to be his wife, Blood made the acquaintance of Talbot Edwards, an aged but trustworthy keeper of the jewels. During this time, the jewels could be viewed by the payment of a fee. After viewing the regalia, Blood’s “wife” pretended to be taken ill, upon which they were conducted to Edward’s lodgings where he gave her a cordial and treated her with great kindness. Blood and his accomplice thanked the Edwardses and left.

Blood returned a few days later with a half dozen gloves as a present to Mrs. Edwards as a gesture of thanks. As Blood became ingratiated with the family, he made an offer for a fictitious nephew of his to marry the Edwardses’ daughter, whom he alleged would be eligible upon their marriage to an income of several hundred pounds. It was agreed that Blood would bring his nephew to meet the young lady on May 9, 1671.  At the appointed time, Blood arrived with his supposed nephew, and two of his friends, and while they waited for the young lady’s appearance, they requested to view the jewels. Edwards accommodated the men but as he was doing so, they threw a cloak over him and struck him with a mallet, knocking him to the floor and rendering him senseless.

Blood and his men went to work. Using the mallet, Blood flattened out the crown so that he could hide it beneath his clerical coat. Another filed the sceptre in two to fit in a bag, while the third stuffed the sovereign’s orb down his trousers.

The three ruffians would probably have succeeded in their theft but for the opportune arrival of Edwards’ son and a companion, Captain Beckman. The elder Edwards regained his senses and raised the alarm shouting, “Treason! Murder! The crown is stolen!” His son and Beckman gave pursuit.

As Blood and his gang fled to their horses waiting at St. Catherine’s Gate, they dropped the sceptre and fired on the guards who attempted to stop them. As they ran along the Tower wharf, they were chased down by Captain Beckman. Although Blood shot at him, he missed and was captured before reaching the Iron Gate.  The crown, having fallen from his cloak, was found while Blood struggled with his captors, declaring, “It was a gallant attempt, however unsuccessful, for it was for a crown!” — a rather eloquent comeuppance speech which today would be something more along the lines of “Oh fuck!”

February 8, 1983: A Horse Is a Horse Of Course

Posted on by Richard Daybell

As a horse, Shergar had it pretty good.  He’d earned his place in the sun.  The Irish racehorse, a bay colt with a distinctive white blaze, won the Epsom Derby in 1981 by ten lengths— the longest winning margin in the race’s history. He was named European Horse of the Year that year and was retired from racing in September after winning £436,000 in prize money for his owners.

A month later, Shergar arrived in Newbridge, greeted by the town band and cheering, flag-waving throngs as he paraded up main street on his way to begin his stud career. It was another successful career for Shergar who produced 35 foals that season. His second season was looking good as well, with 55 mares on hand.

“A clue… that is what we haven’t got,” Chief Superintendent “Spud” Murphy told reporters shortly after the evening of February 8, 1983, when Shergar disappeared. Sherlock Holmes fans might by forgiven if they start claiming this scenario is right out of the great detective’s adventure, Silver Blaze.   Perhaps the perpetrators read Arthur Conan Doyle.

In any event, at 8.30 pm, Shergar’s groom,  James Fitzgerald thought he heard a car in the yard. He listened, heard nothing more, and forgot about it. Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door and his son answered it. The uniformed caller asked the boy to fetch his father, but when he turned his back, the visitor hit him from behind, knocking him to the floor. Fitzgerald entered the room to see a pistol pointed at him. Three more armed men, one carrying a sub-machine gun, pushed their way into the house. They held the family at gunpoint while Fitzgerald led two more thieves to Shergar’s stall. Fitzgerald was forced to help the thieves load Shergar into a horse trailer, and the horse was towed away. Fitzgerald was driven around in another vehicle for several hours before being thrown out of the car having been given a password the thieves would use in ransom negotiations.

The investigation and the negotiations were a lesson in ineptitude on all sides, featuring detection by psychics and diviners, demands, counter demands, botched meetings, all amid rumors that the horse was already dead or that the owners were only negotiating to buy time with no intention of paying ransom.

Whatever the truth, after four days the thieves called no more.  Officials blamed the Irish Republican Army for the crime.  Shergar has never been found.  Sherlock Holmes fared better with Silver Blaze.  Unfortunately, he was no longer available.

 

These Guys Would Have Been Prepared

William D. Boyce was an American newspaper man, entrepreneur, publisher and a bit of an explorer. In 1909, Boyce happened to be exploring the streets of London. It was, as they say, a foggy day in London town. It may not have had him low, had him down, but it did have him lost, or so the legend goes.

As he wandered through the pea soup, haunted by thoughts of Jack the Ripper perhaps, a young lad stepped out of the haze and led him to his destination. Boyce tried to reward they boy who had come to his aid, but the boy would not accept a tip, explaining that he had merely done his duty as a Boy Scout.

The Boy Scout departed, off to help another poor soul lost in the fog, and Boyce returned to the United States, but not before he had visited London’s Boy Scout headquarters, where he immersed himself in scouting lore, starting campfires, tying knots.

Four months later on February 8, 1910, Boyce trustworthily, loyally, helpfully, friendlily, courteously, kindly, obediently, cheerfully, thriftily, bravely, cleanly and reverently founded the Boy Scouts of America.

A Clever Segue

“So here we are, stuck on Gilligan’s Island – Chickenshit Crusoe and his faithless companion, Good Friday.”

“I was a Boy Scout for two weeks,” Paul offered.

“What a relief. And to think I was starting to get worried. But you obviously know how to start a fire without matches, forage for food, and carve a comfortable existence out of the cruel jungle.”

“Well I did learn how to tie a square knot.”

“Well there you are. You little rascals are always prepared, aren’t you? And kind and reverent and true and God-fearing and above all helpful. If we only had a little old lady, you could help her back and forth across the beach.”

A brief bit from Voodoo Love Song, fun and adventure for you good little scouts, boy or girl, while you’re being prepared.  You can find it here.

January 6, 1884: Pea Picking 101

Posted on by Richard Daybell

Gregor Mendel was a friar/scientist/pea picker born in Austria in 1822. Had he been born later he would have been a Czech friar/scientist/pea picker since the part of Austria in which he was born is now the Czech Republic. He is remembered today for minding his peas and cukes, and even has a law named after him.

Gregor had this strange fascination with the propagation of peas. This and his inquiring mind led him to crossbreed short plump green peas with tall skinny yellow peas. Well wasn’t he surprised when all the little baby peas from this union were tall, skinny and yellow. He pondered this at great length and eventually had a forehead-slapping moment.

“Peas have genes!” he probably shouted. (Jeans, on the other hand, were just a twinkle in Levi Strauss’ eyes at the time.) Not only did peas have genes; some of them were dominant and some were recessive — just like kids on a playground or in the House of Representatives.

As any dominant kid of five knows, Mendel’s pea play became the science of genetics and Mendel became (posthumously) the father of same. He died on January 6, 1884, eleven years after the birth of blue jeans.

Elementary, my dear Mendel

Consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, a master of observation and deduction was born on January 6, 1854. The greatest detective in history, he has been depicted in more than 25,000 stories, plays and films. Guinness lists him as the “most portrayed movie character” of all time. His legion of fanatical fans — Sherlockians, Holmesians and Baker Street Babes — celebrate the day annually.  Holmes would have approved of Mendel’s scientific methods.

Many other fictional detectives have vied for our attention over the years.  And while not as versed in scientific methodology as Sherlock, they all could turn a catchy phrase now and then:

“The truth must be quite plain, if one could just clear away the litter.” — Jane Marple

“I don’t mind your showing me your legs. They’re very swell legs and it’s a pleasure to make their acquaintance. —Phillip Marlowe

‘And when you’re slapped you’ll take it and like it.’ — Sam Spade

“Because I am Hercule Poirot! I do not need to be told.”

“It was a Friday night. I was tooling home from the Mexican border in a light blue convertible and a dark blue mood.” –Lew Archer

‘All right, talk, but do you mind putting the gun away? My wife doesn’t care, but I’m pregnant.” — Nick Charles

“(Nero) Wolfe still paid no attention to me. As a matter of fact, I didn’t expect him to, since he was busy taking exercise. He had recently got the impression he weighed too much- which was about the same as if the Atlantic Ocean had decided it was too wet…” — Archie Goodwin

“Have two ears, but can only hear one thing at time.” — Charlie Chan

 

 

 

MAY 9, 1671: STALKING THE CROWN JEWELS

Posted on by Richard Daybell

In the movie The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, Holmes’ nemesis Professor Moriarty is out to steal the crown jewels. His  battle of wits with Holmes over England’s great treasure lasts about an hour.  Earlier, an Irishman, Colonel Thomas Blood, attempted the same feat with a much more elaborate plan.

Colonel Blood set the plan in motion in April with a visit to the Tower of London. Dressed as a parson and accompanied by a woman pretending to be his wife, Blood made the acquaintance of Talbot Edwards, an aged but trustworthy keeper of the jewels. During this time, the jewels could be viewed by the payment of a fee. After viewing the regalia, Blood’s “wife” pretended to be taken ill, upon which they were conducted to Edward’s lodgings where he gave her a cordial and treated her with great kindness. Blood and his accomplice thanked the Edwardses and left.

Blood returned a few days later with a half dozen gloves as a present to Mrs. Edwards as a gesture of thanks. As Blood became ingratiated with the family, he made an offer for a fictitious nephew of his to marry the Edwardses’ daughter, whom he alleged would be eligible upon their marriage to an income of several hundred pounds. It was agreed that Blood would bring his nephew to meet the young lady on May 9, 1671.  At the appointed time, Blood arrived with his supposed nephew, and two of his friends, and while they waited for the young lady’s appearance, they requested to view the jewels. Edwards accommodated the men but as he was doing so, they threw a cloak over him and struck him with a mallet, knocking him to the floor and rendering him senseless.

Blood and his men went to work. Using the mallet, Blood flattened out the crown so that he could hide it beneath his clerical coat. Another filed the sceptre in two to fit in a bag, while the third stuffed the sovereign’s orb down his trousers.

The three ruffians would probably have succeeded in their theft but for the opportune arrival of Edwards’ son and a companion, Captain Beckman. The elder Edwards regained his senses and raised the alarm shouting, “Treason! Murder! The crown is stolen!” His son and Beckman gave pursuit.

As Blood and his gang fled to their horses waiting at St. Catherine’s Gate, they dropped the sceptre and fired on the guards who attempted to stop them. As they ran along the Tower wharf, they were chased down by Captain Beckman. Although Blood shot at him, he missed and was captured before reaching the Iron Gate.  The crown, having fallen from his cloak, was found while Blood struggled with his captors, declaring, “It was a gallant attempt, however unsuccessful, for it was for a crown!” — a rather eloquent comeuppance speech which today would be something more along the lines of “Oh fuck!”