In Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s “A Study in Scarlet,” detectives Gregson and Lestrade are portrayed as celebrities— heroes of sensational crime stories in the papers. Through Doyle’s exquisite use of amateur detective Sherlock Holmes as a foil to the Scotland Yarders, he exposes London’s detective force’s shortcomings in a hope to enact change. Doyle’s portrayal of Gregson and Lestrade demonstrates that Britons are misled by the papers regarding the exploits of London’s detectives. In reality, the adventures of detectives are a bit more complicated.
Detectives in Victorian Britain were effectively celebrities by the time “A Study in Scarlet” arises. However, this was not always the case. The first uniformed police force emerged in 1829 after being introduced by Sir Arthur Peeler (Shpayer‐Makov 252). The British public distrusted this new police force because they feared it would morph into a “gendarme”— a military force policing crime (Shpayer‐Makov 252). This belief was tested when two thousand policemen were deployed to counter riots in the heart of London. These rioters made it abundantly clear what they thought of the newly-formed police force: “Down with the New Police ... Down with the Raw Lobsters” (Flanders 140). Further, pamphlets were distributed expressing its disgust towards the fact London’s police force would now be armed, questioning all Londoners “will you put up with this?” (Flanders 140). Against all odds, these constables stood their ground and did not falter. Thanks to their brave actions, no casualties arose in the exchange (Flanders 140). The long and arduous process of improving the public’s perception of the police force had begun.
This journey did not proceed with ease, however. An infamous murder case made both a mockery of London’s police and forced the hand of London to create a detective department. In 1842, a constable was investigating one Daniel Good for shoplifting a pair of trousers (Flanders 141). Equipped with a pair of stable boys, this constable confronted Good and initiated the search for the trousers (Flanders 141). Good appeared to comply, but then fled the scene and locked the stable door (Flanders 141). Although the team easily overcame the obstacle, they decided to abstain from pursuing and continue the search for the trousers (Flanders 141). During which, they discovered what initially looked like a slaughtered goose (Flanders 141). They soon realized that in reality, it was a woman’s corpse (Flanders 141). What followed was a comedy of errors that made a fool of London’s young police force. The constable then returned to the station. It took two hours for senior police officers to arrive at the stable and conclude that a murder had occurred (Flanders 142). It took an additional twenty-four hours for a “route-paper” to be sent out, notifying the other divisions of Good (Flanders 142). As each division scoured their jurisdiction, little progress was made thanks to a lack of communication between divisions and a constable’s bad habit of giving up as soon as a criminal left his jurisdiction (Flanders 142 - 143). By this time, The Times caused a media frenzy as common-folk visited the scene-of-the-crime to see the gruesome corpse— now identified as Mrs. Jones— as entertainment and mocked London’s constables for failing to catch Good (Flanders 143). Finally, Inspector Pearce, accompanied by two secret detectives, tracked down Good and captured him (Flanders 145). The seeds sowed by Good’s exploits paved the way for the creation of a professional detective force in London and the obsession with violent crime that plagues British media.
Following Good’s escapades and an assassination attempt on Queen Victoria’s life, London finally formed what would eventually become the Criminal Investigation Department (CID) (Flanders 147). From the start, the CID’s growth was stunted by several handicaps. Notably, the pool of potential detectives candidates consisted solely of current uniformed officers (Shpayer‐Makov 254). To make matters worse, police officers were largely recruited from rural Britain (Shpayer‐Makov 256 - 257). Police leadership believed “the rural-bred recruit was ... strong, healthy, obedient, and easy to mould” while Londoners “were ... physically feeble, undisciplined and, above all, conceited” (Shpayer‐Makov 257). The assumption that detectives had to posses superior intellect was at complete odds with the characteristics of its recruitment pool. Consequently, the CID had a difficult time recruiting detectives (Shpayer‐Makov 258). The CID was further crippled by its tiny size relative to the main police force: in 1879, the CID had 267 detectives versus the 11,000 officers (Shpayer‐Makov 253). With all of this in mind, it is no surprise that the public perception of London’s police force and, specifically, detectives was profoundly negative.
In 1848 and 1849, the British public’s perception of the police force and the CID began to change. A brutal attack on four middle-class Londoners outside their own home and the quick actions of London’s police force swiftly persuaded many Britons of the merits of having a professional detective agency (Flanders 149). Seemingly overnight, the detective went from a detested member of society to a celebrity in Britain.
In Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s “A Study in Scarlet,” the celebrity status of professional detectives is exemplified as the media obsesses over the adventures of Scotland Yarders Gregson and Lestrade. The “Brixton Mystery” was extensively covered by the newspapers the day after the murder. Notably, The Standard commented “we are glad to learn that Mr. Lestrade and Mr. Gregson, of Scotland Yard, are both engaged upon the case, and it is confidently anticipated that these well-known officers will speedily throw light upon the matter” (Doyle 46). The Daily News also credited the discovery of Stangerson’s address “to the acuteness and energy of Mr. Gregson of Scotland Yard” (Doyle 46). Sherlock Holmes explains wonderfully how the cards are stacked in favor of Gregson and Lestrade: “if the man is caught, it will be on account of their exertions” (Doyle 46). To Britons, Scotland Yarders are the heroes in the gruesome sensational crime stories in the paper. The truth is a bit more complicated.
Sherlock Holmes disproves the common-perception in the papers time and time again. When Tobias Gregson gets stuck on the “Brixton Mystery,” he reaches out to Sherlock Holmes (Doyle 21 - 22). Once Holmes arrives at the scene-of-the-crime, he superbly analyzes the corpse, discovers a red herring, and is able to deduce the culprit’s height, age, preferred cigar, fingernail length, and what his face looked like (Doyle 30). Holmes leaves the scene with Gregson and Lestrade awestruck (Doyle 31). In desperation, both Scotland Yarders try their best to catch the culprit to no avail. Finally, Gregson and Lestrade admit their inferiority. Gregson remarks “Look here, Mr. Sherlock Holmes ... we are all ready to acknowledge that you are a smart man, and that you have your own methods of working” (Doyle 60). In conjunction, Lestrade seconds “We have both tried, and we have both failed. You have remarked more than once since I have been in the room that you had all the evidence which you require” (Doyle 60). Through this dialogue, Sir Doyle further emphasizes the fact that Gregson and Lestrade are not the unstoppable heroes they are made out to be in the papers. An amateur detective bests them time and time again, despite both Scotland Yarders giving it their all. Case in point, Sir Doyle portrays Gregson and Lestrade as incompetent detectives relative to Sherlock Holmes to highlight the systemic issues in the CID’s detective recruitment system. “A Study in Scarlet” causes readers to question why men like Gregson and Lestrade are considered the best of the Scotland Yarders whilst Sherlock Holmes, an amateur detective, is magnitudes more effective yet not associated with the official detective agency.
All in all, the public’s faith in Scotland Yard is somewhat misplaced. While detectives recruited from the police force, such as Gregson and Lestrade, may be effective in countering everyday, mundane crime, they are largely ineffective when approached by a real mystery. In “A Study in Scarlet,” Sir Doyle illustrates this fact superbly as two professional detectives are outclassed by Sherlock Holmes. Despite this, the public is none the wiser thanks to the Scotland Yarder’s portrayal in the papers. Following the capture of Jefferson Hope, the Echo exclaimed:
“The man was apprehended, it appears, in the rooms of a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who has himself, as an amateur, shown some talent in the detective line, and who, with such instructors, may hope in time to attain to some degree of their skill. It is expected that a testimonial of some sort will be presented to the two officers as a fitting recognition of their services” (Doyle 119).
There is hope, however. Dr. Watson promises that he will correctly report the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes to counter the one-sided narrative in the papers (Doyle 119). Perhaps then Britons will re-evaluate their complete faith in the detective police force.
Works Cited
Doyle, Arthur Conan. “A Study in Scarlet.” Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories, by Arthur Conan Doyle, I, Bantam Classic, 2003, pp. 1–120.
Flanders, Judith. “Policing Murder.” The Invention of Murder: How the Victorians Revelled in Death and Detection and Created Modern Crime, by Judith Flanders, St. Martin's Griffin, 2014, pp. 140–152.
Shpayer‐Makov, Haia. “Becoming a Police Detective in Victorian and Edwardian London.” Policing and Society, vol. 14, no. 3, 2004, pp. 250–268., doi:10.1080/1043946042000241839.