The initial effort I made to work out the living arrangements at 221B ended with the remark that "further researches" would be needed. The means to achieve them appeared not too long thereafter. A serendipidous arrival (in 1999) at the local library provided some interesting information that suggested that Holmes' famous residence may have been Third Rate. The book in question is Georgian House Style, by Ingrid Cranfield [David & Charles, 1997], and it contained, amidst its many photographs and drawings, a brief description of the 1774 building codes that governed much of urban London's subsequent construction. (Baker Street, in case you are wondering, was developed around 1830, and thus qualifies as Late (very late) Georgian. Bad joke to one side, this facade does resemble those seen in Holmes-era photographs of Baker Street.)

In London, land was mostly owned by the aristocracy and this is reflected in the familiar names of many places: Russell, Cavendish, Grovesner and Berkeley Squares all take their names from their noble owners. The land was leased for development, and the rating system was based on the "rate" charged for an annual rent. This, in turn, was based on the size of the house that was built. Courtesy of Ms Cranfield, the basic rates were:

The "size" refered to is the basic footprint of the house -- that is, the area of a single floor, not the whole house.

From the drawings in the book, it seems that First, Second and Third Rate houses had four stories, Fourth Rates having but three. First and Second Rate houses were three "bays" wide (that is, they had three front windows), while Third and Fourth Rates were only two bays wide. Readers of the Canon will immediately recall Watson's remark in A Study in Scarlet that the Baker Street front room had "two broad windows". The numbers of people likely to have been resident at 221B -- Mrs. Hudson, a cook [Mrs Turner?], and sometime maid in addition to Holmes and Watson -- argues for four floors, and so we arrive at a Third Rate house. As Mrs Hudson is refered to as the 'landlady,' we infer that she actually owns the property and will charge her renters the prescribed rate. Taking a median rent of £240 would give, halved between Holmes and Watson, a monthly rent of £10 for each, which might be just bearable on Watson's 11-and-six a day income.

My first effort at reconstucting 221B turns out to have been a Second Rate effort, as the front spanned three windows, and the floor area was some 840 sq.ft. The rent for this, alas!, is likely to be much beyond the modest means of Holmes and Watson -- apportioning the rent by the size, it is likely to be around £800 per annum, or £33 a month for the impecuneous Watson -- something close to twice his income!

The down-sizing necessary to fit these rate restrictions leaves Holmes and Watson sharing something like a 16 by 16 foot sitting room and treking to a ground (or basement) floor loo which will have been attached to the back of the house (this is not progress!). One begins to see why Mr. Patrick Cairns occupied too large a portion of the carpet, and ceases to wonder why people think Watson got married as often as he could [this is a joke -- this writer firmly believes that Watson was married once (maybe twice)].

The floorplan to the left is the "downsized" 221B, and has been adapted (and furnished) to fit the liniaments of A Scandal in Bohemia. If your preference is for another of the stories, by all means modifiy as suits you.

This 'reduced' plan does have some interesting features worth remarking on: in the first place, as opposed to the previous plan, the stairwell now has some illumination, and the fact that the landing window would be on a different level from the bedroom window(s) is attested to in photographs of row houses of similar age.

This plan is oriented differently from the one on the previous page, and this requires some explanation. If one reads closely A Scandal in Bohemia (and if you have looked at other pages on this site, you should not be surprised that I have chosen to follow this story), looking for cues as to the orientation of the rooms, one finds some very suggestive ones, and these have led to the change.

The key cue comes from Holmes' observation that Watson had gotten himself a bit muddy. In explaining this deduction, he remarks "... on the inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it ...". From this we deduce that Watson is sitting with the fireplace on his right. The next cue comes when Holmes hears the sound of the King's carridge: " 'Yes', he continued, glancing out the window ... ." Thus, Holmes, who of course is sitting opposite Watson, is sitting by the window. These two cues put together serve to fix the relative orientations of the (front) window, Holmes, Watson, and the fireplace, which are reflected in our floorplan. (If 221B is on the east side of Baker Street, then the fireplace wall will be the northern wall. The suggestion in The Cardboard Box that the morning sun glares off the buildings opposite favors this overall orientation.)

The stairs have been tinkered with to provide a 'passage' for the King of Bohemia's footsteps to be heard in, and, as this arrangement does provides a place for a second door into Holmes' bedroom (attested to in The Dying Detective), it has shown here. It is possible that the "large" front room on the second (American, third) floor is the famous 'lumberroom', and Watson would have used just such a "passage" door to enter his own bedroom. (We know this to have been at the back of the house since he mentions seeing a plane tree (American: sycamore) in "our" backyard from his bedroom window (in Thor Bridge).)

Sydney Paget seldom added full backgrounds to his illustrations, prefering instead to concentrate on the persons in them, but at least two of his offer enough detail to somewhat confirm the arrangements we have suggested. The one shown below on the left comes from The Naval Treaty, and gives some idea of the extent of Holmesian bookshelving (these will have been of his own adding; Mrs Hudson will have provided only the basic furniture for the rooms), while the one on the right from The Norword Builder comfirms the general relationship between the entry/passage door and the breakfast/dinner table.

A final note: the bearskin rug ("noted on the plan as added later") is known to have been in place at the time when Thornycroft Huxtable (The Priory School) collapsed upon it; a very whimsical suggestion as to its source may also be found on this site.