Sherlockian Way of Thinking
A Forgotten Stick at Baker Street
The opening of The Hound of the Baskervilles offers us a quintessential glimpse into Holmes’s method. Dr. James Mortimer, having called at Baker Street, inadvertently leaves behind his walking stick—a sturdy “Penang Lawyer” cane with a silver band. It is Watson who first seizes upon the opportunity, eager to emulate his friend’s craft.
Holmes, lounging in his chair, encourages him with a smile. “Pray continue, Watson. Let me hear you exercise your powers of observation.”
Watson rises to the challenge. He inspects the cane with care: fine wood, a silver mounting inscribed “To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends, 1884.” The ferrule is worn with heavy use.
Watson’s conclusions follow: Mortimer must be a well-regarded physician, for such a gift denotes respect. The heavy, dignified cane suggests an older gentleman. And the wear at the ferrule points to a country doctor, accustomed to walking long distances on house calls.
Holmes applauds the effort but cannot resist correction. “An admirable attempt, Watson, though not entirely accurate. You have drawn the bow a little too wide.”
Holmes Refines the Picture
Holmes’s eyes glitter as he turns the stick in his hands. He begins with the engraved initials “C.C.H.” Watson has suggested a hunting club. Holmes dismisses it with characteristic sharpness: “Hardly, my dear fellow. A doctor is far more likely to receive such a token from a hospital than from a sporting society. Charing Cross Hospital fits the mark precisely.”
He proceeds to address Mortimer’s age. “You have painted him elderly. On the contrary, he is under thirty. He left the hospital as a junior surgeon, not yet established, to set up his country practice. Only a young man would abandon the prospects of London for rural obscurity.” Holmes taps the inscription: “Eighteen eighty-four—several years past. He would be but a few years older now.”
Then, with typical thoroughness, Holmes moves beyond profession and age to character itself. The gift implies that Mortimer was well-liked by his colleagues. His decision to forsake ambition in the city reveals a modest, unworldly nature. And leaving his stick behind at Baker Street? Proof of a certain absent-mindedness.
The Dog Behind the Teeth Marks
Holmes bends lower, noting indentations on the wood. “Ah, here we reach the most curious detail. Observe these teeth marks, Watson. Our visitor keeps a dog—a large one.”
Watson hazards, “Surely a terrier?” Holmes shakes his head. “Larger, considerably larger. Yet not a mastiff. The jaw-span is too narrow. No, somewhere between the two.”
Here Holmes applies the hypothetico-deductive method. If the dog had indeed chewed the cane repeatedly, marks must remain. The evidence is before them. From the spacing of the bites, Holmes infers the approximate size of the animal. Observation flows into hypothesis, hypothesis into prediction, and prediction into confirmation.
The story soon provides another instance of Holmes’s reasoning at its most incisive. Sir Henry Baskerville, upon arriving in London, discovers a disconcerting theft at his hotel: first, a new brown boot disappears, only to reappear later; then, an old black boot vanishes entirely.
“Why steal a single boot?” Holmes muses. “Not for use, nor for sale. No, Watson, the object is not the boot itself, but what clings to it.”
From this premise, Holmes crafts his hypothesis: the thief sought an article saturated with Sir Henry’s scent. By this scent the hound could be set upon him. The logic predicts two outcomes: the new boot, carrying too little scent, would be returned; the old boot, heavy with use, would never be seen again. Events prove him right.
Method in the Madness
What makes these episodes unforgettable is not simply the correctness of Holmes’s conclusions, but the clarity with which he illuminates his method. He distinguishes between Watson’s plausible but imprecise guesses and his own systematic approach:
Abduction, in forming the most probable explanation from the evidence.
Deduction, in drawing specific conclusions from general principles.
Elimination, in ruling out the impossible until only the truth remains.
Hypothetico-deductive reasoning, in predicting outcomes and confirming them against reality.
Holmes himself says it best:
“You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear.”
And in these early chapters of The Hound of the Baskervilles, that distinction stands before us as plainly as the bite marks upon a forgotten stick.