by Mark Hodder
How can it be that a future which had seemed to me set in stone can be so altered by another? Is Life so fickle a thing that we are helplessly cast about by whims that are not even our own?
I cannot bear it.
Mama, Papa, I will be mistress of my own fate! I will be answerable for my own mistakes and I will claim credit for my own triumphs! Though the world may change around me, it will be I who chooses how to meet its challenges and disappointments, and nobody else.
The world! I now understand that we inhabit two worlds. There is the wider one that we live upon yet see but a faction of and there is the one which consists of the immediate influences from which we take our form. The first expands us; the latter contracts us. Richard was of the second world; from him I gained a sense of my own being, its limits and its character. Now he is gone and I find that I am uncontained.
What do I do? Do I retreat f this breach and hide f the infringing outer world? Or do I flow out into it to discover new possibilities and perhaps to take on a new shape for myself?
You know your daughter. dear parents! I will not flinch!
Richard has made nay long-held vision of the future impossible. Should I therefore abandon it all? NO, I say! NO!
I am in Trieste en route to Damascus. I know not what awaits me there. I hardly care. Whatever; I will at least be creating an Isabel Arundell who is defined by her own choices.
I do not know when I will be back.
I will write.
You are more dear to me than anything.
With deepest love
Your Isabel
“By heaven, but she’s headstrong!” exclaimed Burton, handing the letter back to Henry Arundell.
“Always was!” agreed the older man. “Like her grandmother. By George, man! What made you do it? Leave her, I mean. I thought you loved her!”
“I do, sir. Make no mistake about it; I do. I was given a choice by Lord Palmerston: I could either accept a pitiful consulship on a disease-ridden island or I could serve the country in a capacity which, though hazardous, would offer far more by way of personal fulfillment. In either case, Isabel, had she become my wife, would’ve been placed in a perilous position. I broke off our engagement to protect her.”
Arundell grunted, and said, “And in consequence, she’s gone gallivanting off to Arabia on her own where, surely, she’ll be at equal risk!”
“No, sir, don’t let the popular image deceive you. The Arabs are an honourable race and she’ll be in no more danger there than she would be if she were in, say, Brighton. London is a hundred times more dangerous than Damascus.”
“Are you sure?”
“I promise you. It’s in the British Empire’s interest to portray other cultures as barbarous and uncivilised; that way there’s less of an outcry when we conquer them and steal their resources. Lies have to be propagated if we are to retain the moral high ground.”
Arundell shifted in his seat uncomfortably. To him, such statements sounded traitorous.
“Be that as it may,” he grumbled, “I’m not at all happy. I’m concerned for my little girl’s welfare and I hold you responsible.”
“I cannot help that. The decisions I make are based on what I think is best. The decisions she makes are based on what she feels is best. The decisions you make, likewise. We all act on what we know, what we see, what we are told, and how we feel. The simple fact of the matter is that not a single one of us operates under identical influences. That, sir, is why the future is always uncertain.”
Henry Arundell stood and placed his hat upon his head.
“I am not mollified, sir,” he said, somewhat resentfully.
Burton got to his feet. “Neither am I.”
Isabel’s father nodded and left.
Sir Richard Francis Burton wandered over to the bar and took a shot of whisky. A few minutes later, he put on his topper and his coat and, swinging his cane, walked out of the hotel and along the pavement toward Montagu Place.
The thick fog embraced him.
It was silent.
It was mysterious.
It was timeless.
It makes it seem as if, he thought, my world doesn’t really exist.
MEANWHILE, IN THE
VICTORIAN AGE …
SIR RICHARD FRANCIS BURTON
fter they completed their expedition to Africa’s central lake region in ,1859, John Hanning Speke returned to London ahead of Richard Francis Burton and claimed credit for the discovery of the source of the Nile. Some weeks later, Burton arrived and their feud commenced. The following year, while Burton toured America, Speke returned to the lakes but failed to collect convincing evidence that his assertion was correct.
In 1861, Burton married Isabel and accepted the consulship of Fernando Po. He did not allow his new wife to accompany him there and they didn’t see each other again until December the following year.
Burton’s duties on the disease-ridden island ended in 1864. That same year, in September, he was due to debate the Nile question with Speke at a meeting of the Royal Geographical Society in Bath. The day before the scheduled encounter, Speke died from a gunshot wound to his side while out hunting.
His death marked a turning point in Burton’s career.
Burton became consul in Brazil, then Damascus, and finally in Trieste, and spent the rest of his life focusing on his writing rather than on exploration.
Queen Victoria did not award him a knighthood until 1886.
He died from heart failure in 1890. Controversy followed, when it became known that Isabel had burned many of his papers, notebooks, and unpublished manuscripts.
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE
In 1866, Swinburne caused a sensation with the publication of Poems and Ballads I and quickly became the enfant terrible of the Victorian literary scene. Though he was quickly hailed as one of England’s premier poets, his alcoholism took a heavy toll on both his health and his career. He also diverted much of his energy into his fascination with birchings and sexual deviancy he had a condition known to modern medicine as algolagnia, which causes pain to be interpreted as pleasure—and critics generally agree that he never lived up to his potential.
In 1879, when he was forty-two years old, Swinburne suffered a mental and physical breakdown and was removed from the temptations of the London social scene by his friend Theodore Watts. For the remainder of his life, Swinburne lived in relative seclusion with Watts, losing his rebellious streak and settling into comfortable respectability until his death in 1909.
Swinburne’s words “—of shame: what is it? Of virtue: we can miss it. Of sin: we can kiss it. And it’s no longer sin” form part of his poem “Before Dawn” which appeared in Poems and Ballads, First Series, The Poems of Algernon Charles Swinburne. 6 vols. London: Chatto, 1904.
“Not with dreams, but with blood and with iron, shall a nation be moulded to last,” is from his poem “A Word for the Country” (undated).
Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean;
The world has grown grey from thy breath;
We have drunken from things Lethean,
And fed on the fullness of death
is from “Hymn to Prosperpine,” which appeared in Poems and Ballads, First Series.
How he that loves life overmuch shall die
The dog’s death, utterly:
And he that much less loves it than he hates
All wrongdoing that is done
Anywhere always underneath the sun
Shall live a mightier life than time’s or fate’s
is from “Thalassius, Songs of the Springtides” which appeared in Poems and Ballads, First Series.
JOHN HANNING SPEKE
Much might be said about Speke’s attitude toward Burton after their expedition to the lakes; his actions definitely raise questions about his character. However, it is quite wrong to accuse him of cowardice. Certainly, this is what he thought Burton had done when the explorer published his account of the attack at Berbera. Speke felt tha
t Burton’s command—”Don’t step back! They’ll think that we’re retiring!”—was a personal slight. There is no evidence to suggest, though, that Burton ever meant it as such.
Without the advantage of flight, Speke’s second expedition to Africa’s central lake region took as long as the first. The subsequent debate with Burton, therefore, was not scheduled for September 1861, but September 1864.
OSCAR WILDE
The Great Irish Famine lasted from 1845 to 1852. Oscar Wilde was not a refugee from it, nor was he an orphan or paperboy.
As an adult he became a playwright, poet, author, and controversial celebrity. His epigrams are still celebrated today. They include:
“By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, journalism keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community.”
“There is luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel no one else has a right to blame us.”
“I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I’m saying.”
“I have the simplest tastes. I am always satisfied with the best.”
“When I was young, I thought money was the most important thing in life. Now that I’m old—I know it is.”
“One can survive everything, nowadays, except death, and live down everything except a good reputation.”
Wilde died in 1900.
LAURENCE OLIPHANT
Laurence Oliphant never kept a white panther as a pet. He did, however, nurture John Hanning Speke’s resentment of Burton.
In 1861, he became first secretary of the British Legation in Japan but soon after accepting the post there was an attack on the Legation during which he was severely wounded, losing the full use of one hand.
After a failed stint in parliament, he showed more promise as a novelist but then fell under the influence of the spiritualist prophet Thomas Lake Harris. From 1868, he lived as a farm labourer in Harris’s cult, not breaking free until 1881.
He spent the rest of his life as an author until his death in 1888.
RICHARD MONGKTON MILNES
Richard Monckton Milnes, one of Burton’s best friends, was a poet and politician. He was a patron of literature and possessed a massive collection of erotic books.
Milnes never said: “The Eugenicists are beginning to call their filthy experimentations ‘Genetics,’ after the Ancient Greek ‘Genesis,’ meaning ‘Origin.’ This is in response to the work of Gregor Mendel, an Augustinian priest. A priest! Can there be any greater hypocrite than a priest who meddles with Creation?”
The significance of Gregor Johann Mendel’s work was not recognised until the turn of the twentieth century, long after his death. He eventually became known as the father of modern genetics.
Milnes died in 1885.
ISAMBARD KINGDOM BRUNEL
Isambard Kingdom Brunel actually said: “I am opposed to the laying down of rules or conditions to be observed in the construction of bridges lest the progress of improvement tomorrow might be embarrassed or shackled by recording or registering as law the prejudices or errors of today.”
Brunel planned his “atmospheric railway” as an extension of the GWR Line, intending that it should stretch from Exeter toward Plymouth. A section of the route operated from 1847 to 1848 but, after the leather flap-valves were eaten by rats, Brunel abandoned the project.
He was not involved in the building of the London Underground, the first line of which opened in 1863. He did, however, complete the Thames Tunnel, which had been designed by his father, Marc Brunel. This was later purchased by a consortium of six railway companies and, in 1884, the District and Metropolitan Lines began to operate a service through it.
Brunel designed and built the Great Western Railway, a number of bridges—most famously the Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol—and ocean liners, including the massive seven-hundred-foot Great Eastern.
In 2002, the BBC conducted a public poll to determine the “100 Greatest Britons.” Isambard Kingdom Brunel came in second place, after Winston Churchill.
He died in 1859.
HENRY JOHN TEMPLE, 3RD VISCOUNT PALMERSTON
Lord Palmerston was British prime minister from 1855 to 1858 and again from 1859 to 1865, when he died in office. He did not have any plastic surgery.
PAUL GUSTAVE DORÉ
The French artist’s association with London didn’t begin until the mid1860s. His book of engravings, London: A Pilgrimage, was published in 1872.
He died in 1883.
CONSTABLE WILLIAM TROUNCE
There is no record of Constable William Trounce having been present at the scene when Edward Oxford tried, and failed, to assassinate Queen Victoria in 1840. However, on May 29, 1842, another assassination attempt was made, this time by a young man named John Francis. After firing a pistol at the monarch, Francis was seized by Constable William Trounce. History does not record what happened to the brave policeman after this brief moment of fame.
THE BATTERSEA POWER STATION
The station was not proposed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel and didn’t exist during Queen Victoria’s reign. Its construction commenced in March 1929. It still stands, though abandoned and derelict.
29 HANBURY STREET, SPITALFIELDS
This premises is where the body of Annie Chapman, one of Jack the Ripper’s victims, was discovered on the morning of September 8, 1888. Her mutilated body was found in the backyard.
FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE
The “Lady of the Lamp” did not say: “When we adjust some element of an animal’s nature, a quite different element alters of its own accord, as if there is some system of checks and balances at work. What we cannot fathom is why the unplanned changes seem entirely pointless from a functional perspective. I am baffled. Galton is baffled. Darwin is baffled. All we can do is experiment, experiment, experiment!”
Florence Nightingale revolutionised nursing and is rightfully regarded as one of British history’s greatest women. She died at the age of ninety in 1910.
HENRY DE LA POER BERESFORD, 3RD MARQUESS OF WATERFORD
The Mad Marquess never said: “Every time we are faced with a choice, and we are faced with them every minute of every day, we make a decision and follow its course into the future. But what of the abandoned options? Are they like unopened doors? Do alternative futures lie beyond them? How far would we wander from the course we have steered were we to go back and, just once, open Door A instead of Door B?”
In 1842, he married and put his wild youth behind him.
He died in a horse-riding accident in 1859.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ARK is the creator and caretaker of the BLAKIANA Web ,site (www.sextonblake.co.uk), which he designed to celebrate, record, and revive Sexton Blake, the most written about fictional detective in English publishing history. A former BBC writer, editor, journalist, and Web producer, Mark has worked in all the new and traditional media and was based in London for most of his working life until 2008, when he relocated to Valencia in Spain to de-stress and write novels. He can most often be found at the base of a palm tree, hammering at a laptop.
Mark has a degree in cultural studies and loves British history (1850 to 1950, in particular), good food, cutting-edge gadgets, cult TV (ITC forever!), Tom Waits, and a vast assortment of oddities.
SPRING HEELED JACK
Spring Heeled Jack is one of the great mysteries of the Victorian Age (and beyond). Somewhat akin to the Mothman of West Virginia, this ghost, or apparition, or creature, or trickster, leaped out at unsuspecting victims over a period covering 1837 to 1888 and even on into the twentieth century (though the main sightings were from 1837 to 1877-the subsequent ones may have been hoaxes, copycats, or something else entirely).
There is no recorded incident of a time traveller visiting the Victorian Age….
Table of Contents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
IN WHICH AN AGENT IS APPOINTED AND MYSTERIES ARE INVESTIGATED
THE AFTERMATH OF AFRICA
THE THIN
G IN THE ALLEY
THE COMMISSION
THE ASSASSINATION
THE BIRTH OF THE LIBERTINES
THE HOG IN THE POUND
THE CAULDRON
MARVEL'S WOOD
THE BATTERSEA BRIGADE
BEETLE AND PANTHER
THE SWEEPS
THE RESURRECTIONISTS
DOG, CAT, AND MOUSE
THE TRAIL
DARKENING TOWER
BEING THE TRUE HISTORY OF SPRING HEELED JACK
PREVENTION
DISSUASION
PREPARATION
HUNT
THE BATTLE OF OLD FOLD AND ITS AFTERMATH
BERESFORD CONTINUES HIS STORY
THE GATHERING FORCES
THE BATTLE OF OLD FOLD
IN COLD BLOOD
CONCLUSION
MEANWHILE, IN THE VICTORIAN AGE ...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR