GENETICS AND SHERLOCK HOLMES
“The point under discussion was how far any singular gift in an individual was due to his ancestry and how far to his early training.”
The Greek Interpreter
Allusions are made in several of the tales to the subject of genetics—that is, the science of heredity. Many of the observations set forth, although perhaps not entirely acceptable today, are nevertheless intellectually stimulating.
Nearly all human beings—some much more than others—are interested in matters pertaining to heredity. Most of us like to hear about our grandparents and even about our great-grandparents, despite the fact that the deeds of some of our ancestors, and the lives they lived, may cause us some embarrassment.
In this connection, I am reminded of a statement made to me one evening (a long time ago) by a distinguished Southerner of the old school, a Kentucky gentleman, during a discussion of our ancestors. In effect, he suggested that perhaps we should not examine the lives of our early kinfolk too closely, because one of them might have been hanged as a horse thief.
When we uncover some irregularity in the behavior of our ancestors, we often toss it aside by pointing out that after all they were products of their times, which indicates, in part at least, that environment was highly important. There is doubtless considerable truth in this statement, but an honorable man in the eighteenth century probably had (or anyway, should have had) the same high standard of conduct as an honorable man in the twentieth century. Rather than sermonize further, let us turn to the tales of Sherlock Holmes.
We find Doctor Watson and Sherlock Holmes talking together on a beautiful summer evening. Doctor Watson writes:
... the conversation ... came round to the question of atavism and hereditary aptitudes. The point under discussion was how far any singular gift in an individual was due to his ancestry and how far to his early training.
The Greek Interpreter
Watson expressed the thought that Holmes’ faculty of observation and his peculiar facility for deduction were due to his own systematic training. Holmes ventured this was true only to some extent. When Watson asked him why he thought it hereditary, Holmes replied, “Because my brother Mycroft possesses it in a larger degree than I do.”
Doctor Watson was amazed at this answer, and expressed the sentiment that if any other man in England possessed greater keenness in observation and deductive powers than did Sherlock Holmes, the public would surely know of him. Watson hinted it was Holmes’ modesty which caused him to extoll his brother’s powers. Holmes quickly made this rejoinder: “I cannot agree with those who rank modesty among the virtues. To the logician all things should be seen exactly as they are, and to underestimate one’s self is as much a departure from truth as to exaggerate one’s own powers. When I say, therefore, that Mycroft has better powers of observation than I, you may take it that I am speaking the exact and literal truth.”
There are doubtless many people who would take issue with the thoughts Holmes expressed. But they do contain more than a modicum of truth. Is there not an expression to the effect that false modesty is not a virtue? Does not the matter of intellectual honesty also enter into this picture? We will not at this time pursue the matter further, although it is tempting.
Sherlock Holmes suggested to Dr. Watson that, since he had never met Mycroft, it would be fitting for him to make his acquaintance. Accordingly, they set out for the Diogenes Club, where Holmes assured Watson that Mycroft, on account of his routine life, would be found this very hour of the day.
Watson was presented to this extraordinary person:
... his face ... had preserved something of the sharpness of expression which was so remarkable in that of his brother. His eyes, which were of a peculiarly light, watery gray, seemed to always retain that far-away introspective look which I had only observed in Sherlock’s when he was exerting his full powers.
Watson has skillfully depicted the family likeness—that is, the highly intelligent face and the dreamy and introspective look. Obviously, Mycroft and Sherlock were both remarkably keen, alert men.
At the Diogenes Club, Mycroft and Sherlock seated themselves before a window which gave them a clear view of the street. As they sat there conversing, two strangers were approaching along the sidewalk. Mycroft called attention to them, and the following brilliant dialogue ensued:
“Look at these two men ... coming toward us....”
“The billiard-marker and the other?”
“Precisely. What do you make of the other?”
(Dr. Watson then explained that he noted some chalk marks on the waistcoat of one of the men which was the only evidence of billiards he could see, and that the other one was carrying several packages.)
“An old soldier, I perceive,” said Sherlock.
“And very recently discharged,” remarked the brother.
“Served in India, I see.”
“And a non-commissioned officer.”
“Royal Artillery, I fancy,” said Sherlock.
“And a widower.”
“But with a child.”
“Children, my dear boy, children.”
Watson laughingly remarked that this was too much. Sherlock and Mycroft assured him it was not. They pointed out some of the salient points which had enabled them to make their astute conclusions. Among those mentioned were that the man in question had the bearing of a soldier, wore the expression of authority, and had a deeply tanned skin (which suggested he had served in India). The fact that he was wearing deep mourning indicated he was probably a widower.
The dialogue actually was a contest of wits between Sherlock and Mycroft. The latter obviously won when he said, “Children, my dear boy, children.” This winning stroke Mycroft explained in this way: “He has been buying things for his children.... There was a rattle which shows one of them is young ... a picture book under his arm shows that there is another child to be thought of.”
When Mycroft had finished, Holmes merely turned to Watson and smiled, not only to acknowledge his brother’s genius but also his superiority in observation and deduction.
Sherlock Holmes apparently believed firmly that heredity played an extremely important part in the life of an individual. There is no end to the argument among biologists whether heredity or environment plays the more significant role in the development of an individual. It is especially so with a person’s mental capacity. One who unfortunately has inherited a mediocre mind will always be handicapped, to a degree, regardless of his environment or training. The mental powers will remain ordinary. Conversely, the individual who is endowed with a keener intellect will always be potentially the intellectual superior of his less fortunate brother. There is no doubt that training and environment in general will aid both types of individuals, but even the most ideal developmental conditions can not completely overcome a deficient genetic constitution.
In the story of The Yellow Face, it will be recalled that a white woman had married a Negro. The child, according to the story, had even a darker skin than her father: “It was our misfortune that our only child took after his people rather than mine. It is often so in such matches, and little Lucy is darker than her father was.” This statement must be challenged. It appears incredible that a child born of a white mother could be darker than her Negro father. If the mother had had some Negro blood, then by certain arrangements of genes this could have happened, but not otherwise. Dr. Watson doubtless is in error in this instance.
A hereditary likeness once enabled Holmes to solve a mystery (The Adventure of the Cardboard Box). A maiden lady (Miss Cushing) had received in the mail a small cardboard box containing two human ears—one that of a woman. Holmes was called in, and during the course of the investigation visited the receiver of this gruesome package. He noted the resemblance of one of the severed ears to the ears of the lady upon whom he was calling. Because of the striking likeness, he felt certain that the person whose ear had been dismembered was a close relative of the Miss Cushing whom he had come to interrogate. Holmes remarks to Dr. Watson: “I perceived that her ear corresponded exactly with the female ear I had just inspected.... There was the same shortening of the pinna, the same broad curve of the upper lobe, the same convolution of the inner cartilage.... It was evident that the victim was a blood relation, and probably a very close one.” It will be recalled that the dismembered ear proved to be that of Miss Cushing’s sister.
Holmes propounds an interesting theory of the development of the individual, in The Adventure of the Empty House. Speaking of the terrible Colonel Moran, he expressed the idea that the individual represents the whole procession of his ancestors in his development, and that the person becomes the epitome of the history of his own family. Doctor Watson thought this rather fanciful, and Holmes’ rejoinder was that he would not insist upon it.
In The Hound of the Baskervilles, Holmes successfully demonstrates by means of a family portrait that the villain Stapleton is actually a Baskerville. It will be remembered that Holmes stands upon a chair and uses his arm to cover the broad hat and the long ringlets depicted in the portrait. Now that only the features are visible, the portrait of old Hugo Baskerville boldly stands out. Watson is astounded when he beholds the results. Holmes remarks that it was an interesting instance of a throwback, apparently both physical and spiritual.
The discovery that Stapleton markedly resembles one of his early ancestors is not too surprising, for this surely could happen in any family. The remarkable thing is that Holmes had had the acumen to cover up certain portions of the old family portrait to make the face of old Hugo Baskerville stand out. This clever demonstration would not have occurred to many people. The extraordinary family resemblance portrayed is a splendid example of atavism—that is, a reappearance of the characteristics of a remote ancestor which presumably had been more or less absent in intervening generations. The matter of atavism would make a most interesting study. Therein lies the value and interest of the old family album which used to grace the center table in the parlor.
In The Adventure of the Copper Beeches, Holmes makes a neat point in regard to the subject of heredity: “My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining light as to the tendencies of a child by the study of the parents. Don’t you see that the converse is equally valid. I have frequently gained my first real insight into the character of parents by studying their children.”
This is an interesting analysis. Let us pursue the thought further. The expression is often heard that a child’s behavior resembles that of one of his parents. A popular way of putting it is that he is “a chip off the old block.” This makes it appear that the pattern of behavior is set up early in life. An old maxim has it: “As the twig is bent, so the tree will incline.”
The problem is not always as simple as Holmes suggests. It is true that we all have seen fine and lovable children whose parents have similar qualities. But we also have seen ill-mannered, nasty-tempered children whose parents have fine characters and possess charming manners. One is reminded of a statement attributed to the gentle and amiable Robert Louis Stevenson: “It has been a source of perpetual mystification to me where all the disagreeable medical students go to, and all the admirable doctors come from.”
I think the same may be said about some of the spoiled, unlovable children. Many of them develop into sterling young men and women who later in life carry on with noble purpose and high resolve. These individuals often form the backbone of their community.
The entire matter of heredity is a complicated one, and much is still to be learned about the subject. It is extremely important in the study and practice of medicine. There are some common diseases which certainly run in families, such as migraine, high blood pressure (hypertension), and diseases of the coronary arteries. And it is definitely known that diabetes may be inherited. In my own experience, I have known a father with diabetes whose three daughters had all developed this condition early in life. There are other diseases just as formidable: for example, certain neurological and mental diseases. Any researches which may throw any light on the subject of heredity should be encouraged.
As we have seen, there are not many allusions in the Sherlock Holmes stories to genetics. It is a pity that the topic of crime and heredity was not touched upon. As far as I know, no specific reference is made to it. I am not sufficiently acquainted with crime statistics to know how commonly one would find several criminals in one family—that is, in a single generation. However, one does think of those Missouri bandits: the James brothers, the Younger brothers, and the Daltons. Perhaps there are others. In any case, one would like to know whether their parents or grandparents had criminal records. I submit, however, that these last-named cases are rather special ones, for the James brothers and their colleagues were products of an unusual period. Doubtless, a black sheep may be found in an otherwise respectable family. As Sherlock Holmes stated to Dr. Watson, once in a while a carrion crow appears among the eagles (The Adventure of Shoscombe Old Place).