Sherlockian Sojourns – Special #15: ‘A Couple of Complex Minds’

Introduction

In ‘The Illustrious Client’, when discussing Baron Gruner with Sir James Damery, Holmes references two Victorian criminals by their real names (rather than Watson’s usual pseudonyms) – Charles Peace and Henry Wainwright:

“A complex mind. All great criminals have that. My old friend Charlie Peace was a violin virtuoso. [Henry] Wainwright was no mean artist. I could quote many more”  - Sherlock Holmes  [ILLU]

I therefore set out to visit sites connected to these two individuals whose ‘complex minds’ so attracted Holmes. I intend to mention the sites in chronological order rather than the order that I visited them for ease.

 

Part 1: Charles Peace  (September 2026)

Finding myself back in my alma mater, the City of Sheffield, I decided to visit sites connected with Charles Frederick Peace, who was born on 14th May 1832, and was hanged on 25th February 1879. He was a prolific burglar and eventually a murderer.

Peace was born in grim surroundings at Angel Court, Nursery Street, Sheffield S3, on what is now the site of the former ‘The Big Gun’ Public House (visited by me second). His father, John, was a cobbler, picture framer, and subsequently travelled with the Wombwell Menagerie as a one legged lion tamer. His mother was a naval surgeon’s daughter. 

Peace initially went to school, but then got employment at Millsands Works as an apprentice Tinsmith, then as a foundry worker at Kelham Island, where at the age of fourteen, he accidentally had a red hot iron bar through his leg. Eighteen months in the Sheffield Infirmary ensued, where he had his left kneecap removed, leaving him permanently crippled, but he learnt to play the violin (to a level appreciated by Holmes, a fellow violinist), regularly playing Paganini at The Prince of Wales Public House, Ecclesall Road, Sheffield S11  (my penultimate stop).

However, as well as his musical ability, he had also but acquired housebreaking skills.  He was short, with a limp, and also had two fingers missing from a firearms incident. He also probably had suffered with rickets and could dislocate his jaw at will. At the age of nineteen, he had one year in prison after housebreaking with his sister, using a hinged ladder which looked like a pole, when folded. At twenty-two, he was back in Wakefield prison for burglary, for four years’ hard labour, during which time he tried to escape.

After his release, in 1859, he married a widow named Hannah Ward, who already had a son. They had two further children, but he continued to be arrested and convicted of burglary offences over the next thirteen years, meaning that he spent much of that time in custody. On release in August 1872, he started a picture framing business, and also sold musical instruments, but still went thieving. He also briefly worked for the North Eastern Railway, but was sacked for absenteeism.

Three years later, he and Ward moved to a semi-detached house in Britannia Road, Sheffield S9  (my first stop)  which was situated next door but one to a house occupied by a civil engineer called Arthur Dyson and his wife Katherine, which would prove fateful in due course.

Meanwhile, at Whalley Range, Manchester, Peace was seen by two policemen entering the grounds of a house on 1st August 1876, about midnight. One of them, PC Nicholas Cock, caught him as he was trying to escape. Peace took out his revolver and warned Cock to stand back but PC Cock stood his ground and Peace fired, but deliberately wide of him. Cock drew his truncheon, and Peace fired again, this time seriously wounding Cock, who died the following day on 2^nd August. After the fatal shot was fired Peace made his escape in the dark, returning to Sheffield, where he became obsessed with Katherine Dyson, who was described as “boozy and buxom”. In June 1876, Dyson threw a card into the garden of Peace’s house, reading: “Charles Peace is requested not to interfere with my family.” On 1st July 1876, Peace approached Mrs Dyson and threatened her and her husband. Dyson took out a summons against Peace, and moved to Banner Cross, another part of Sheffield.

On 29th October 1876, their first day in the new house - 959 Ecclesall Road, Sheffield S11 (visited fourth), Mrs Dyson was accosted by Peace, who said: “You see, I am here to annoy you, and I’ll annoy you wherever you go.” That evening, a little after eight o’clock, Peace observed Mrs Dyson coming out from her back door and entering a nearby outhouse. When she duly emerged, he confronted her with a revolver, shouting: “Speak or I’ll fire.” In terror, Mrs Dyson retreated back into the outhouse, and her husband came out to investigate.

  

Peace fled down the passage, where Dyson followed him. Peace fired twice at Dyson, the second shot passing fatally through his temple. As Mrs Dyson cried: “Murder!”  The passageway no longer exists, and its site - 955 Ecclesall Road, S11 (visited fifth) is now a barber’s shop, Crystal Barbers.

Dyson was buried in the nearby All Saints Churchyard, Sheffield S11 (visited last), ironically opposite the public house where Peace regularly played the violin. A quick search of the churchyard for the grave proved unfruitful.

   

  

Peace escaped and made his way by train to Hull, there was an immediate hue and cry, with a price of £100 on his head. The police issued a description that was somewhat inaccurate, but in any case, Peace was changing his appearance, concealing his missing finger with an ingenious prosthetic arm. In Nottingham, he made another fateful meeting, with a Mrs Sue Thompson, who would become his mistress, but would eventually betray his whereabouts to the police.

In early 1877, he moved to London under the pseudonym John Thompson, where he was finally caught by a Constable Robinson, whom he attempted to shoot. He was convicted of attempted murder and burglary. He confessed to being Charlie Peace, which wasn’t at first believed, but was confirmed by his wife and Mrs. Dyson. His family sold up as he was sentenced to hard labour in Pentonville prison, for life, so he decided he wanted to die, and admitted to his past crimes, leading to the Habron brothers who had been convicted of PC Cock’s murder being exonerated.

Peace was taken back to Sheffield, where he appeared before the stipendiary magistrate at Sheffield Town Hall, Pinstone Street, Sheffield S1  (visited third), and charged with the murder of Dyson.

     

Peace was taken back to London to await the second hearing. But it had to be adjourned a further eight days, because on the journey back to Sheffield, Peace jumped out of the train window whilst handcuffed to an officer. He was injured in the ensuing kerfuffle, being found unconscious beside the track, but, reaching Sheffield, he was tried in a corridor in the Sheffield Courts. It took 10 minutes for the Judge to sentence him to be hanged at Armley Gaol by chief hangman William Marwood, the ‘’long drop’’ pioneer. The year was 1879. On the morning of his execution, Peace ate a hearty breakfast of bacon, and calmly awaited the coming of the public executioner, On the scaffold, Peace died instantly and was buried at the Gaol, in a coffin in unconsecrated ground.

 

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Part 2: Henry Wainwright  (October 2026)

A sojourn closer to home, mainly covering the #25 bus route through Whitechapel. Born on 12th July 1832, thirty-seven year old Henry Wainwright appeared to be a highly respectable, hard-working businessman who had inherited his family’s brush-making business at 84 Whitechapel Road, London E1 (visited fourth), now the East London Mosque.

As well as being a successful manufacturer and warehouse owner, Wainwright was a temperance lecturer, living with his wife and four children in a comfortable house at 40 Tredegar Square, London E3 (visited first).

But Wainwright was not all he appeared to be on the surface. Despite his apparent comfortable home life, he had a more complicated side. He had met a young, attractive twenty-year-old milliner’s apprentice called Harriet Lane in 1871. Totally infatuated, he set up a home for her as his mistress in a property at 70 St Peter Street, Mile End (since demolished) where Harriet took to calling herself ‘Mrs Percy King’. Over the course of the next two years, the love-struck pair had a couple of children. However, the financial cost of trying to run the two homes was playing havoc with Wainwright’s financial situation. He tried moving Harriet and the two children to cheaper accommodation at 3 Sidney Square, London E1 (visited second), but this did little to alleviate the problem, and he found himself moving ever closer to bankruptcy. By 1874 his business was starting to founder, and his debts were mounting.

    

To compound the problem, Harriet liked to drink, becoming loud and demanding when she had had a few too many. She was continually demanding additional money from Wainwright to help support his two illegitimate children, and eventually she began to threaten to expose their affair to his wife if he did not increase payments. In desperation, Wainwright began to hatch a plan and turned to his brother, Thomas, for assistance. Without divulging his eventual intentions he asked Thomas to pretend to woo Harriet through a series of written letters, which Thomas duly did, using the pseudonym Edward Frieake.

At 4pm on Friday 11th September 1874, an excited Harriet arranged for a couple of friends to look after her children and she left the property in Sidney Square. From then on, all communication with her friends ceased, and she appeared to vanish into thin air. Later that day, a small group of men working outside Wainwright’s warehouse at 215 Whitechapel Road, London E1 (visited third), now a clothes shop, heard what they thought to be three gunshots. A cursory examination of the immediate area failed to discover the cause, and they continued with their work.

   

When friends expressed concern over Harriet’s disappearance, Wainwright stated that he had given Harriet 15 Shillings and informed them that to the best of his knowledge, she had travelled to Brighton. Shortly afterwards, the friends received a letter from ‘Edward Frieake’ explaining that he had asked the young Harriet to marry him and that they were going to Paris to live together. Twelve months passed, but despite Harriet’s disappearance, Wainwright’s financial situation continued to cause him problems. Finally, he made the fateful decision to sell the warehouse, as passers-by had started to notice the obnoxious odours.

Exactly a year after the murder, on 11th September 1875, Wainwright went to the warehouse and used a spade to loosen the earth on a shallow grave that had been dug just below the floorboards. He had used lime chloride in an attempt to cover the foul stench of the rotting human remains. Using a small hatchet, he proceeded to dismember the decomposing body and wrapped the pieces into two heavy parcels, covered in black American cloth and tied with rope. He then enlisted the help of an unsuspecting employee, Alfred Stokes, who he asked to help him move the two parcels. Stokes was told to wait with the parcels while Wainwright went for a cab. Due the parcels’ dreadful odours, while Wainwright was away Stokes stole a peek inside the largest parcel. As he opened it, the first thing he saw was a human head, and then a hand which had been cut off at the wrist. Appalled, he quickly repacked the parcel and waited until Wainwright returned.

Wainwright put the two parcels into the cab, instructed Stokes that he would see him later that evening, and departed. Stokes pursued the cab on foot until he saw two police constables by Leadenhall Street, London EC3A (visited fifth). He drew their attention to the cab, begging them to stop it, but they laughed at him and said, “Man, you must be mad”.

    

Stokes continued to run after the cab as it turned over London Bridge, eventually stopping outside the Hen & Chickens Public House, 54 Borough High Street, London SE1  (visited last).

  

He alerted two other police constables; PCs Turner and Cox, and said “For God’s sake run after the man with the high hat with the parcels in his hand, there is something wrong.” This time, the two constables took Stokes’ protestations at face value, and as he left the cab, they accosted Wainwright.

As PC Turner reached for one of the packages Wainwright said “Don’t open it, policeman, pray don’t look at it, whatever you do don’t touch it”. The policeman pulled the cloth package open and discovered that it contained part of the remains of a human body. As Cox went to get the cab, Wainwright attempted to bribe the police constable saying, “I will give you 100 shillings, I will give you 200 shillings if you will let me go“.

Wainwright was subsequently charged with murder, and the police also tracked down and arrested his brother, Thomas. A search of the warehouse revealed the site of the shallow grave and patches of what appeared to be old blood. The victim had been shot in the head with a small calibre pistol, with her throat cut afterwards. Wainwright was known to possess a gun of a type consistent with the murder weapon. Wainwright was dubbed the "Whitechapel murderer"

At his trial at the Old Bailey (visited previously) in November 1875, before Sir Alexander Cockburn, Wainwright claimed that he had no idea what the parcels contained. His flimsy defence was that he had been asked by a mystery man to take the parcels from the warehouse for a sum of money.

   

The jury deliberated, found Wainwright guilty and he was duly hanged by William Marwood on 21st December 1875, at Newgate Gaol (visited previously). 

Despite taking place after public executions had ended, it is reputed that roughly two hundred people witnessed his execution in prison, testifying to his local notoriety. Thomas Wainwright was sentenced to seven years penal servitude as an accessory after the fact.

Sherlockian Sojourns - Special #14: 'The Great Wyrley Outrages'

Having spent the weekend at Brett Con 2026, on the Monday morning I caught a train from Manchester Piccadilly to Stafford, changing onto a train to Rugeley Trent Valley, then a third train to Landywood. This brought me to Great Wyrley, a village in South Staffordshire which is associated with a miscarriage of justice in which Sir Arthur Conan Doyle became involved, which has been the subject of many books and dramatisations.

It was a twenty minute walk to my first stop, St Mark's Church, the stone parish church of Great Wyrley, in early English style. Its vicarage and an adjacent school were built in 1845 to designs by the architect Thomas Johnson of Lichfield and consecrated on Tuesday 22^nd  July 1845 by John Lonsdale, Bishop of Lichfield.

     

In late 1875, it became known for having the first South Asian vicar of any Church of England parish, Shapurji Edalji, who had married a white Englishwoman, Charlotte Stuart, a vicar’s daughter from Shropshire. He obtained the position though the previous incumbent, his wife's uncle, who arranged it as a wedding present. 'Livings' were scarce, conferred valuable emoluments and were much sought after. The arrival of a mixed-race couple in an English country village in the 19th century was a rare occurrence, but it appears the Edaljis were warmly welcomed. If there was resentment and racist feelings towards them, it would not bubble up until they were well established in the community. Soon after moving in, the couple’s first child, George was born, followed by two other children, Horace and Maude, all of them born in Staffordshire.

In 1888, a series of vicious anonymous letters falsely accusing the Reverend Edalji of an assortment of sexual crimes and threatening murder to anyone who served this “black master” began arriving at the vicarage. Others were sent to the homes of members of the village council and prominent local clergymen. An orchestrated campaign of harassment directed against the Edaljis began. Abusive graffiti was daubed on the walls of their garden, animal excrement smeared on outbuildings, and windows of the vicarage broken. The local police investigated, but, evidently under direction of the Chief Constable of Staffordshire, Captain Anson, not with much enthusiasm. The campaign of abuse continued until 1895 when it stopped completely. Calm once again descended on Great Wyrley.

During the vilification, George had been working diligently. He was solitary and wore thick glasses to correct severe myopia which gave him a peculiar, owlish appearance. He was also highly intelligent. George did well at school and, after attending college, became a solicitor, winning prizes from the Birmingham Law Society. Yet despite his success, even in his late 20s, George Edalji continued to live with his parents. He had no friends, no girl he was sweet on. His only hobby was taking long, lonely walks in the countryside, often as darkness was falling. At night he slept in the same bedroom as his father, who, it was said, locked the door before switching out the light. That George was not your average villager was undeniable. His outsider status was to have grave consequences.

On 1^st February 1903, eight years after the last poison pen letter about the Edalji’s had been sent, a horse was cruelly maimed at a farm in Great Wyrley. Over the next six months, more animals were attacked and injured with a bladed weapon. When the attacks began, anonymous letters started to arrive once more. Purporting to be from the gang carrying out the attacks, the letters named George Edalji as a leading member. The police, led by Captain Anson, needed no second invitation. They began compiling evidence against George Edalji and trailing him as he went about Great Wyrley.

Despite the suspicion that surrounded him, George Edalji continued to go on his walks. On 18^th August, a wounded pony was found just half a mile from the scene of the first attack.

The police arrested the vicar’s son and then tried to find evidence that connected him to the crime. A set of old cut throat razors uncovered in the bedroom he shared with his father (the “blood” on them was later revealed to be rust), an overcoat covered in what they believed to be horse hairs (they were likely just loose threads), and a set of footprints police claimed led from the scene of the crime to the vicarage were enough for the constabulary to make a case.

George Edalji stood trial for the attack on the pit pony. The evidence was circumstantial, but his oddness—and likely his colour—counted against him, and he was convicted and sentenced to seven years with hard labour. There was an immediate outcry; 10,000 people signed a petition protesting the verdict, but the sentence was upheld.

A model prisoner, George Edalji was paroled in 1906, but the conviction hung over him and he continued to campaign to clear his name. This is where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle came in. It did not take Sir Arthur long to see the flaw in the police case. Watching George reading the newspaper, Sir Arthur observed how close to his face he held it, and how he altered the angle constantly as he read. He concluded that no man whose eyesight was as bad as George Edalji’s was could have crept around in the pitch dark, clambering over fences, vaulting streams, attacking livestock, and all the while avoiding the policemen who were tailing him.

Sir Arthur travelled to Great Wyrley and spent eight months compiling evidence. He clashed with Captain Anson who remained convinced that Edalji was guilty, despite the fact animal maiming around the village had continued while George was in prison.

Sir Arthur concluded that the police findings were wrong, and that the most likely culprit was Royden Sharp, a former sailor who worked for the village butcher. His findings were published in two articles in the London Daily Telegraph in January 1908, and subsequently serialised around the world. Along with pressure from senior lawyers, it was enough to earn George Edalji a pardon in May 1908.

While Sharp would never be arrested for the crimes, a full 26 years later Enoch Knowles from nearby Wednesbury would be convicted of writing the abusive letters that had targeted the Edalji family. By then, Reverend Shapurji Edalji was dead. He passed away at the vicarage in 1918, having served as the vicar of Great Wyrley for 42 years, and is buried in the churchyard.

     

 

George would continue to work as a solicitor, living with his sister just outside London until his death in 1953.

Having visited the Church and Vicarage, I set out in search of the farms where the horse maiming had taken place. Records were unclear as to the exact location, save that it was close to an abandoned colliery. I therefore made my way to Hazel Lane, which ran through farmland and was close to the former No. 3 Colliery, taking photos of the current farmland.

    

 

Retracing my steps, I made my way back to the Station, passing Great Wyrley Community Library, which was having a book sale. To my delight, one of the books for sale was ‘The Mystery of the Parsee Lawyer: Arthur Conan Doyle, George Edalji and the Case of the Foreigner in the English Village’ by Shrabani Basu, an account of the ‘Great Wyrley Outrages’ and Edalji’s eventual pardon. 

 

Book purchased, I caught a train into Birmingham, then another home.

Sherlockian Sojourns # 88: As Seen on Screen 25 - Northern England ‘Granada Sherlock Holmes’ Filming Locations (2)

Introduction

It was time for another mega sojourn. To celebrate 40 years since the first transmission of Granada’s ‘The Return of Sherlock Holmes’, which picked up after Reichenbach with Edward Hardwicke replacing David Burke as Watson, the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes Podcast were holding another Brett Con, this time at the show’s base, Manchester. (I attended the first Brett Con in 2024, which helpfully for me was in Guildford). As part of the festivities, there was to be a Location Tour and a visit to the country house used in ‘The Dancing Men’ with the cast and crew of the episode. I therefore decided to spend the week leading up to the event, visiting other Granada locations in the general area.

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Day 1: Monday

Having spent the weekend with a friend in Nottinghamshire, I was able to catch an early train from Newark Northgate Station to York Station (a journey of around 45 minutes). The present York station was built during the 1870s after it had become clear that the old station, which could not facilitate through traffic due to its positioning, was a hindrance to long distance express services. It was built to be expansive and well-furnished from the onset, complete with a distinctive curved train shed. Upon its opening on 25^th June 1877, it was the largest railway station in the world, possessing thirteen platforms along with various amenities, including a dedicated hotel.

The station appears early on in the film ‘The Seven Percent Solution’ (1976), being the station from which Holmes and Watson travel to the Continent.   [The station’s overbridge also appears in ‘Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone’ (2001) as the bridge at Kings’ Cross where Hagrid gives Harry his Hogwarts Express ticket].

     

It was then a short walk to the National Railway Museum, where I made my way to the Great Hall where SECR D Class 4-4-0 No. 737, designed by H S Wainwright, built at Ashford in 1901, and withdrawn in 1956, was on display. This locomotive (along with LNWR ‘Precedent’ 2-4-0 No. 790 Hardwicke which is currently housed in the NRM’s sister museum, ‘Locomotion’ in Shildon, County Durham) appeared in the station scene in ‘The Seven Percent Solution’. (It also appeared in 'Chariots of Fire' (1981))  The museum also features a replica of ‘The Rocket’, ‘The Mallard’, and Queen Victoria’s Saloon Car.

     

  

Having spent the afternoon in central York and having dropped off my luggage at my guest house for the next three days, I made my way to York Castle Museum, which includes ‘Kirkgate’, a Victorian Street, as well as an original Hansom Cab parked on the street (Joseph Hansom having been born in York). The Cab which was built at John Marston’s coachworks in Birmingham has a Sherlockian connection as it was last used by the students of Watson’s literary agent, Arthur Conan Doyle’s alma mater, Stonyhurst College in Clitheroe. 

   

     

  

Returning to my accommodation, I prepared for another day’s location spotting.

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 Day 2: Tuesday

Catching the 09:14 train from York, I was arriving at Knaresborough Station just over twenty minutes later. I then got a cab to my destination, Allerton Castle, built by the premier Baron of England, Lord Mowbray, Segrave and Stourton in the 1840. It appeared in Granada's 'The Sign of Four' as the home of Major Sholto (Robin Hunter), Pondicherry Lodge, in the episode’s opening scenes, in Thaddeus Sholto (Ronald Lacey)’s tale of the treasure, and is also where Bartholomew Sholto (also Ronald Lacey) is found dead. Both exteriors and interiors appear in the episode. I therefore paid for entry and walked round, comparing my screenshots with the various rooms, managing to identify all but one, which may have been a studio set. 

 

            

            

          

  

 

 My entry even included complimentary tea and biscuits, and having gone round the house twice, I moved outside to the gardens, including a memorial garden to honour the 4,272 military personnel of the No. 6 Group Royal Canadian Air Force based at Allerton Castle during World War II.

Making my way back to the main road, I got a cab back into central Knaresborough, going around the Castle and its associated Courthouse Museum (with a Tudor courtroom), before returning to the station and my train back to York.

  

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Day 3: Wednesday

An early start the next morning, found me catching a bus just after 7am from outside the station, travelling for 1½ hours to Pickering, and one of the terminuses of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway. This station is a 1930’s themed station, with a magnificent roof structure which was recently re-instated to the same design as the original, built in 1847 by G T Andrews. Picking up my ‘All Day Rover’ from the ticket office, I managed to get some breakfast utilising a voucher that I had been given for making my ticket a Donation (costing me 10% more, but getting me a voucher worth 15%).

  

I then caught the first train of the day (a Diesel locomotive) for the twenty minute trip to Levisham Station which is surrounded by the North York Moors. I was the only person to alight here, doing so because this is the station where Dr Watson (Edward Hardwicke), Dr Mortimer (Alastair Duncan) and Sir Henry Baskerville (Kristoffer Tabor) alight from their train, having arrived in Dartmoor in Granada’s ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’.

    

Having taken photos, I had a brief wander around the nearby moorland, having 1½ hours until the next train. Reboarding another diesel train, I made my way to the most famous station on the line, Goathland (visited by me on a previous occasion). 

Goathland station, played the part of ‘Hogsmeade’ in the film, ‘Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone’. (The rest of the films used a station built in studio). It features in two sequences in the film – firstly when framed against the North Eastern Railway footbridge the ‘Hogwarts Express’ pulls into Hogsmeade Station, and all the students then get off the train in their robes, being greeted by Hagrid, who rounds up the first-year students and leads them to the boats that will sail them over to Hogwarts; and secondly at the very end of the film when Harry says goodbye to Hagrid, who gifts him a photo album with a photo of his parents in it, then hugs him goodbye and then boards the train as it takes off to head back to London.

The filming started on 29th September 2000 (the first scenes filmed for the entire film), and production photography took place a few days later in October. They didn’t have to do much to transform this station, save cover up some Goathland wording on the benches, and most of the original features were kept.

  

 

The station also featured as Aidensfield station in the ITV programme ‘Heartbeat’, with the nearby village also featuring heavily. I managed to visit ‘Scripps Garage’, ‘The Aidensfield Arms’, ‘Aidensfield Post Office’, ‘Aidensfield Stores’, ‘Aidensfield Tea Rooms’, ‘Aidensfield Village Green’ and ‘Dr. Ferrenby’s Surgery’, all within the space of half-an-hour.  

   

              

 

I then caught another diesel train from Goathland, which waited at Grosmont Station for a long time whilst the diesel engine was removed and replaced with LMS ‘Black 5’ No. 44806 (a steam locomotive), before continuing its journey to the other end of the line, Whitby Station, whose car park was full of Filming Unit vehicles relating to filming taking place for a new Netflix version of ‘Tales of the Unexpected’.

I made my way to ‘Sherlock’s Coffee Shop’ where I had a ‘Moriarty Smoothie’ and bought four coasters with Sherlockian quotes on, before struggling to get the Bram Stoker’s bench on the East Cliff due to roads being closed due to filming.

      

The afternoon was spent in a more in-depth ‘Dracula’ book locations tour, ending in the Whitby Abbey gift shop. I then caught a bus to nearby Scarborough, where I managed to see the latest Alan Ayckbourn play at the Stephen Joseph Theatre, before returning to York. 

    

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Day 4: Friday

 

Having taken a day off to look for the Cottingley Fairies, I made my way from Bradford, my base for the night, to Manchester. Having left my luggage at Left Luggage at Manchester Piccadilly, I made my way back to Manchester Victoria, and the nearby Chetham’s Library, founded in 1653 and the oldest public library in the English-speaking world, which was the starting point for my booked ‘Granada Sherlock Holmes Location Tour’. 

   

The group was so big that it needed to be broken into two, with each group having a guide who highlighted the history, with a Podcast member moving between the groups to show which scenes the library appears in. The library stacks upstairs where my group went first appears as Professor Moriarty’s (Eric Porter) base in both ‘The Red-Headed League’ and ‘The Final Problem’.

   

We then made our way into a side-room with an alcove with a desk in it that is known for being where, in the summer of 1845, Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, spent several weeks studying together, work that ultimately resulted in the writing of ‘The Communist Manifesto’. However, the same desk and alcove, also appears in 'The Priory School’ being where the Duke of Holdernesse (Alan Howard) rises from to greet Holmes (Jeremy Brett) and Watson (Edward Hardwicke).

Moving downstairs, we moved along corridors that also appear in ‘The Priory School’, exiting into a courtyard where Holmes struggles with Moriarty’s men in ‘The Final Problem’, before entering another room used as part of the School.

     

       

Exiting the library, we all walked for around twenty-five minutes into the Deansgate area of Manchester, passing Forsyth’s Music Shop where Jeremy Brett obtained his violin, until we reached Castle Street, where scenes featuring Toby following the scent of creosote in ‘The Sign of Four’ were filmed. I had previously visited this site, but it was useful to have the exact filming location confirmed, as well as which part of the nearby towpath was used in the filming.

  

It was then a short walk to a nearby alleyway with a barbers and restaurant, which was the site of the murderous attack on Holmes in ‘The Illustrious Client’. This location had only recently been identified and so was new to all attendees.

 

      

Moving back towards the centre, we made our way to Albert Hall, a former Wesleyan Chapel now a Manchester music venue, whose basement was regularly used for filming, including Covent Garden Market in ‘The Blue Carbuncle’, the Women’s Liberation Meeting in ‘The Golden Pince-Nez’, and scenes in ‘The Eligible Bachelor’. Despite our tour leader banging on the door, staff vehemently refused to let us in.

    

Passing the Midland Hotel, where Brett stayed whilst filming, holding court, and Manchester Town Hall, still under repair, which appeared in multiple stories, we made our way to Sam’s Chop House, which appeared as the restaurant that Holmes was eating in prior to the attack in ‘The Illustrious Client’. The alleyway next door also appears in ‘The Bruce Partington Plans’ with a carriage being filmed driving through it.

    

This was the end of the tour, and I made haste to Manchester Piccadilly, catching a train to Cheadle Hulme, a fifteen minute journey. From here it was a twenty minute walk to Bramall Hall.  This appeared as the home of the Ferguson family in ‘The Last Vampyre’, and was used for both exterior and interior shots. Unfortunately, a large part of the outside was under repair and covered in scaffolding, but I managed to take multiple photos.

         

              

Returning to Manchester Piccadilly, I picked up my luggage and checked into my accommodation, having just enough time to change before making my way out for my evening’s entertainment, taking place at the former site of the Granada Studios.

The first point of call was the Bonded Warehouse, which previously housed the Baker Street interiors. It is now a workspace venue and nothing of the inside remains, but the outside remains as it was during filming.

   

I then made my way to the events area of ‘The Crystal Maze Experience’ that is now located on the site of the studios for a ‘Dinner on Baker Street’. As part of this, a steam fire engine used in ‘The Norwood Builder’ had been brought down from the Fireground Museum in Rochdale (but not the main one previously seen by myself at the museum) and I got a photo with three of the real firemen who appeared in the episode. A quiz led by Maze-Master, ‘Sheerluck Holmes’ saw my table ('The Six Napoleons') roundly beaten (as only I seemed to have any idea of answers), but I had a great time speaking to other Brettons, even if we didn't seem to have a member of cast or crew on our table.

   

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Day 5: Sunday

Having spent the previous day at ‘Brett Con 2026’ itself, I had opted for the second of two location coach trips to Leighton Hall, the real life setting for Ridling Thorpe Manor in ’The Dancing Men’, with a reunion of cast and crew. Waiting at the pick-up point for the 1.15pm start, the coach was late and we hit traffic coming out of Manchester. However, we still reached the Hall at around 3.15pm, sweeping down the drive familiar from the episode to the Hall which was instantly recognisable.

  

Due to two of the guests having to go early, the group photo was taken almost immediately, but not before I managed to get photos with the two guests that were due to leave soon – David Ross (Inspector Martin) & Paul Jaynes (Walker).

  

We then made our way to the Music Room for a panel with Betsy Brantley (Elsie Cubitt), Wendy Jane Walker (Saunders), Ross and Jaynes, before the episode itself was screened, after a brief recorded interview with Eugene Lipinski (Abe Slaney) who had been unable to attend.

It was then time for tea in the Conservatory, with Brantley and Walker signing and posing for photos (with pre-signed photos of Ross and Jaynes available). 

  

Having got my autographs and photos, I joined Suzie Reynolds, owner of the Hall, for a tour of all the rooms used in the filming, including one where they kept the curtains from filming after a minor china item was broken, and the ground floor window that Holmes famously climbs out of. There were also letters from Jeremy Brett and director John Bruce (the latter in ‘Dancing Men’ code) to the family on display.

             

I then moved into the gardens, finding the bench from the story (with a DM message), as well as the areas seen at the start of the episode.

      

It was then time to get back on the coach for the 80 minute trip back to Manchester. As we sped back along the M6, I mused on visiting ten Granada filming locations in five days (along with ones from ‘The Seven Percent Solution’, ‘Harry Potter’ & ‘Heartbeat’, and even a Hansom Cab that Conan Doyle may have used).