The Heiress in Kent

by Gregory Kopp

  The innkeeper had been very uncooperative and sullen when he questioned him about Mary Morter. He finally received an answer when he explained he was a detective from Scotland Yard, trying to find her whereabouts. The innkeeper told Richard he did not appreciate strangers asking about Mary or her family, not even policemen. Mary had made a nice impression on the innkeeper during the short time she lived in South Salem and he did not care about her past. “Mary was a kind and gentle woman,” said the innkeeper. “Her eyes had betrayed the hardships she endured traveling to America from England and her husband helped build the Pub next door.”

  An old woman noticed Richard staring at the gravestone of Mary Morter. She was kneeling and placing fresh cut flowers on the grave of her son. She straightened up and followed Richard Cordwell as he left the cemetery and went back to the inn. She entered the inn a few moments later and asked the innkeeper, “Who is the man staying in your establishment?” The innkeeper did not even look up from his reading but told her he was an English policeman recently arrived in town. After hearing this, she quickly walked to the South Salem United Methodist Church down the street. Within the church she found the Pastor standing in his pulpit practicing for the Sunday sermon. “Reverend, please hurry,” she cried as she entered the small clapboard building. “There was an English policeman at Mary Morter’s grave today! Is he the man Mary told us would come someday when she was on her deathbed?” The Reverend appeared surprised, closed his notebook and climbed down from the pulpit.

  He thanked the old woman and asked, “Where is he now?” The woman pointed to the inn at the edge of town. She described Richard to the pastor and then hurried home. Her husband was waiting for his dinner and she did not want to be late.

  The Pastor went into his office to retrieve a yellowed envelope. He hurriedly walked to the inn and asked the innkeeper for directions to Richard’s room. Richard was busy packing his things in order to return to New York City when he heard a knock on his door. He opened it and saw the Methodist minister holding a letter in his hand.

  “Excuse me. One of my parishioners noticed you at Mary Morter’s grave. Are you a friend of hers?” he asked.

  Richard Cordwell eyed the minister and believed he looked innocent enough. “No, but I am a detective from England and a friend of mine asked me to find her,” he said, neglecting to say it was a request from the Queen of England. “Unfortunately, I am too late. Did you know her? Do you know how she died?” he asked the Methodist minister.

  The minister cleared his throat. “That poor woman, she died of pneumonia shortly after arriving here from New York City. Her husband was heartbroken, packed up their things, sold his house and moved away,” he said.

  “Did they have any children?” Cordwell asked.

  “Yes, several of them, but they're all gone now. Her husband gave them away to foster families before he left, many years ago.” The minister continued, “I’m afraid the families have all moved away by now. But before Mary died, she gave me a letter to give to anyone official from England that might come looking for her. And you look like an official policeman to me,” he smiled as he surveyed Richard’s tailored clothing and close-cropped hair. He handed the yellowed envelope to Cordwell, “I held on to it for all these years and now it’s yours.”

  “Can I ask you to stay and have a cup of tea with me?” Richard asked.

  The Methodist minister shook his head and said, “No, I have to get back and prepare for my Sunday sermon.” He went down the stairs and left the inn to return to his pulpit.

  Cordwell opened the envelope. He instantly realized it was a letter from Mary Morter herself addressed “To my dear sister Queen Victoria”. It was dated April 1, 1852, only a few days before she died.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I take my humble pen to describe my last encounter with Her Royal Majesty, Queen Victoria. I rose when I heard a knock on the door one late afternoon. My youngest child was crying from hunger, and I was rocking her as I opened the heavy oak door. It was a fine lady, dressed in red velvet and wearing a fur coat. A carriage was standing still at the curb, with a coachman also dressed in red velvet waiting patiently for the fine lady to return. “Your Majesty,” I gasped and bowed low to the stately short woman.

  Queen Victoria raised me up and hugged me. “Mary, how I’ve missed you.” She observed my disheveled appearance, including my torn and soot-covered clothing and noticed the crying, hungry child I was holding in my arms. “How are you?” the Queen asked me. I merely nodded and closed the door behind my sovereign, amazed she was visiting my humble home. “I have not heard from you since you left the palace,” Queen Victoria scolded me. I put the crying child down in her crib and straightened up to face the queen.

  “They would not let me visit you,” I told the fine woman. “I tried multiple times, but I was no longer welcome to visit the palace.”

  Queen Victoria had a surprised look on her face, “Who would not let you in?” she asked.

  “Your staff my lady,” I said.

  Queen Victoria hushed me. “Please call me Victoria,” she said. “We used to play dolls together, and play hide-and-seek from my mother”. Queen Victoria laughed as she pushed some baby clothing away on the settee and sat by the fireplace.

  I smiled and quickly said, “I remember those days. Your mother would be very angry with me if she caught us together. I would be banished from your room and only later be able to sneak back in to visit you.” Queen Victoria smiled and shook her head in sadness. I suddenly looked up at the Queen and said, “Where are my manners? Would you like a cup of tea?” I asked while we both noticed that my baby had stopped crying and had fallen fast asleep.

  “No, thank you, Mary,” said, Queen Victoria. “I must be going before they miss me at the palace. I just wanted to give you this” and she slowly unwrapped a small package she had hidden under her cloak and gave it to me.

  “What is it, your Majesty?” I asked ignoring Queen Victoria’s pleas to use the more familiar name.

  “I took it from your old home, to remember our father.”

  I opened the package and discovered a colorful brooch. It had the crest of my father the Duke of Kent including several jewels surrounding it.

  “I thought you would like this,” Queen Victoria said to me and sat back down on the settee pleased with herself.

  I was speechless at so fine a gift from my sovereign. I admired the handiwork and weighed it carefully in my hand. “I can't accept this, your Majesty,” I said and offered it back to the Queen.

  Queen Victoria refused my gesture and pushed my outstretched hand away, “It is a gift to you. After what they did to you, it is the least I can do for my sister.”

  I was overwhelmed by the generosity of the gift. After my banishment from the palace, I and my husband had struggled to make a living in London. My husband, a stonemason, was a commoner and I had married him secretly. When the royal family discovered what we had done, we were disowned, my husband lost his job at the palace, and we were forced to live on the outskirts of London. Over the years, I bore several children while my husband found small jobs each day. I tended to our home, as best I could, fending for myself without the benefit of the servants I had grown accustomed to. The sewing I had learned in the fine drawing rooms of the palace came in particularly handy. I sold some pieces to the vendors in the shops on the street where we lived.

  Queen Victoria rose to leave. “Now Mary, please keep in touch. I cannot bear not seeing you again,” she said as she surveyed my torn clothing and sleeping child. She pressed some English pound notes into my hand and left suddenly through the open oak door.

  I was so surprised I neglected to tell the Queen that my husband had arranged passage for us to travel to New York City. We would be sailing out of Dover on the next morning tide. In fact, I was packing my things when the Queen arrived so I placed the royal brooch into a small box with my other belongings. I buried it under several layers of clothing, to thwart any thieves during our travels.
While my smallest child slept, I finished packing and then gathered my children and luggage, hailed a Hanson cab and hurried to catch the train to Dover. I never saw Queen Victoria again. I sold the brooch for a small pittance while I was in New York City in order to provide for food and clothing for my children.

  I sincerely regret that such a gift from Her Majesty the Queen had to be utilized this way. I hope she would forgive me someday.

  Faithfully yours,

  Lady Mary Morter, Daughter of the Duke of Kent and Strathearn

  Cordwell carefully refolded the letter and suddenly realized what the word “Think” meant on the gravestone. He chuckled to himself. “Yes, she never did receive the Duke of Kent’s inheritance,” he thought, “The Heiress in Kent.” It all began to make sense to him now the top-secret mission for the Queen, the hushed tones when he inquired about Mary Morter during the meeting with the British Consul in New York City, and the attempts on his life when he tried finding her whereabouts. The Chartist leaders who were not already imprisoned or exiled needed a figurehead monarch like Mary Morter in order to depose the Queen and secure power in Parliament. These hopes were now dashed with the death of the Heiress in Kent. He could return to New York City to complete his other assignment.

  Richard hurried to the nearest train station. The station master told him the only train to New York City would go through Cincinnati early the following morning. He would have to change trains at the Cincinnati Depot. Cordwell purchased a ticket for himself and boarded the train the following morning to Cincinnati and then on to New York City.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Upon returning to New York City, Cordwell discovered a New York and Erie Railroad Company board meeting was scheduled that afternoon. It was to be held in the midtown offices of Frederick’s former law firm. The railroad company was planning to replace Charles Moran with Edward Clarke as president.

  With the assistance of the British Consul, Cordwell arranged to have two New York City policemen accompany him in order to interrupt the meeting. As he flung open the doors to the boardroom, the board members were startled with a puzzled look on their faces. Then Frederick, Josephine and Josephine’s father, the former president of the company, Homer Ramsdell entered the room after the two policemen.

  Edward Clarke was standing in the front of the room pointing at financial figures on a whiteboard. He was complaining vociferously about the company’s financial mismanagement when he heard the commotion, turned, and saw Richard Cordwell. His face went pale, and he shouted, “How did you get here? What is the meaning of this?”

  Charles Moran also turned towards the doorway and immediately recognized Richard. He smiled when he saw Josephine and Homer Ramsdell enter the room with him. Richard Cordwell walked swiftly to the front of the boardroom. He told Clarke to take a seat at the table. Clarke began to object vigorously, but he quieted down when he saw the policemen pull out their Billy clubs from their belts. The rest of the railroad company board members also began demanding why he interrupted their board meeting. Richard asked them to be patient and told them they would know soon enough of the purpose of the interruption. Josephine and Homer Ramsdell sat down next to Charles Moran and also assured him good things would come out of their meeting.

  Richard Cordwell described to the assembled New York and Erie Railroad Company investors about the bank embezzlement he uncovered during his trip to Ohio. He met with Charles Stetson, the former President of the failed Ohio Life Insurance Bank and Trust Company who confessed to his mismanagement of the bank. Richard stated that Stetson had detailed all of this information in a letter to Richard in an attempt at clemency.

  Stetson explained how the head cashier for the bank embezzled over $3 million dollars supposedly to use for railroad stock investments without any collateral. But he lost this entire investment when the price of railroad stocks fell after the end of the Crimean War. This caused the bank to fail, and in turn, triggered the worldwide financial panic in 1857.

  Charles Moran shook his head, realizing how his own railroad company stock holdings had evaporated during the financial panic.

  Richard continued describing how Charles Stetson also discovered that the head cashier had embezzled additional bank funds to give to British Chartists! For these activities, he was awarded a legal release of liability in order to escape jail time. This legal document was written by Edward Clarke, a former English Chartist. He was one of the main conspirators in the bank embezzlement scheme.

  Clarke began to squirm in his chair.

  Richard Cordwell held up the letter from Charles Stetson for all to see to prove he was telling the truth. He then proceeded to describe his encounter with the hoodlums sent to kill him in Cincinnati. “They were hired by the very same law partner sitting now in your midst in this very boardroom,” he said as he pointed at Edward Clarke. All the eyes in the room turned to stare at the lawyer whose hands began to shake as he sat in his chair. Richard continued to detail how Edward Clarke immigrated to America to escape prosecution in England after the failed 1848 United Kingdom Chartist revolts. When Clarke discovered Richard Cordwell was a Scotland Yard detective sent to investigate him; the lawyer tried to have Richard killed.

  All of the board members turned their attention back to Richard and sat straight up in their chairs upon learning he was a Scotland Yard detective. They began listening even more intently.

  Richard described how Clarke and his allies on Wall Street were using the embezzled bank funds to send to the Chartist leaders in England. This was an effort to support their violent protests against the British Government and the Queen. But Richard neglected to tell the assembled group of the Chartist’s other plans to depose Queen Victoria and replace her with The Heiress in Kent, Mary Morter, on the English throne.

  Edward Clarke stood up and protested vehemently, “It’s all lies!” but noting the disbelieving looks on those in attendance realized he had been discovered for his crimes. He sat down and placed his head in his hands.

  Meanwhile, Charles Moran stood up and strode to the front of the boardroom and pointed at Clarke and growled, “You’re fired!” and gestured to the two policemen standing in the back of the room to arrest him and place him in custody. The two policemen put manacles on Edward Clarke and escorted him out of the boardroom to the nearest police station.

  Everyone in the room except Josephine and Frederick was astonished at this turn of events. Charles Moran walked over to Josephine Ramsdell and held out his hand to shake hers. “Josephine, I am sorry I did not believe you,” he said.

  Homer Ramsdell beamed at his daughter who embraced him and said, “I told you Father that you would be found innocent.”

  Charles Moran then turned to Frederick and said, “Young man will you work with us to untangle this financial mess?”

  “Yes, Sir. I will start right away.”

  Moran replied, “Good, you are hired and will move back into your office. Is that right?” he asked the managing partner in charge of the law firm.

  The shocked managing partner could only mumble, “Glad to have you back,” and shook Frederick's hand.

  Charles Moran then turned towards Richard Cordwell, “I am impressed with you young man. You have demonstrated initiative; I could use a detective like you in the New York and Erie Railroad Company. Will you come and work for me?”

  Richard shook his head. “Certainly not, Sir. I am sorry, but I have a job. I work for Her Majesty, the Queen,” he stated and smiled.

  Moran laughed and slapped him on the back, “Well, anyway let's celebrate.”

  The President of the New York and Erie Railroad Company led him and the others to an exclusive restaurant next door for a celebratory dinner. Frederick requested Anna joined them for dinner, and when Anna arrived Frederick told her the good news of his new job.

  After dinner, Richard pulled Anna aside and returned Mary Morter’s brooch to her. Anna looked at him in surprise. “I thought you said it was stolen. Did you find the owner?” she
asked.

  “Yes, I did!” Richard said, “But she no longer needs it. Take good care of it.” Anna pinned the brooch back on her dress and left with Frederick. Richard Cordwell continued smoking his cigar and smiled at the happy couple as they left the restaurant. “The Duchess of Hamilton will be pleased,” he thought to himself.

  Josephine Ramsdell then winked at Richard standing in the doorway and mouthed the words, “Thank you” as she sat next to her father. Charles Moran and her father were discussing railroad business at the other end of the dinner table. Richard smiled at her, nodded his head and then left the restaurant to pack for his voyage home to England. He had one last errand to run before he left for England.

  Richard visited Edward Clarke in jail to secure a signed confession detailing all of the British government officials involved in the Chartist conspiracy. In exchange for the confession and information, Richard would encourage New York authorities to indict him only for embezzlement. Richard threatened to transport him back to England to face charges of treason and death by hanging if he did not comply with this request. Clarke agreed and proceeded to write a confession letter which contained a detailed explanation of the Chartist conspiracy plot to take over the British government. He then sealed it and addressed it to the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police for his eyes only. Richard tucked the letter into his travel bag and returned to his hotel to pack.

  Chapter Eighteen

  December 7, 1859, Delphos, Ohio

  “Stanislaus!” Karolina shouted from the door of their cabin. “Stanislaus come here, please hurry!” Stanislaus was in the woods near his cabin chopping firewood for the winter. He looked up when he heard his name and saw Karolina waving at him. He put down his ax and finished stacking up the bundle of firewood and walked back to the cabin.