Throughout the eighteenth century, promenading had become popular in many towns and cities in England. From this fashionable pursuit of social walking the concept of pleasure gardens developed; either in the centre of these metropolises or, more often, on their outskirts. Here, an area of land would be set aside for the planting of tree-lined avenues or other agreeable vistas, so as to give a formal setting and framework for socialising. In Bath, this had originally taken place among the rows of trees in Orange Grove, in view of the Guildhall, and then later on land near the river.
The Sydney Vauxhall pleasure gardens had opened in 1795 and when Mary’s father had retired to Bath eight years earlier and bought their house in Great Pulteney Street, she had been fortunate enough to arrive in time for the pleasure garden’s inaugural gala and a visit by the Prince of Wales. The pleasure gardens of Sydney Vauxhall were like a familiar and beloved acquaintance to Mary. She had sought solace here after her father’s death, more often than not in the company of her mother, but now alone, since she too had also passed away. When the family had all been together, they would spend countless afternoons strolling in the grounds and trying to find their way out of the labyrinth, which was one of the central features of the gardens. Mary smiled as she recalled her mother and herself hopelessly lost within the maze, only to hear the sound of laughter above and, looking up, seeing her father on the swing, which had been erected at the labyrinth’s centre and whose occupant, it was advertised, could ‘look down upon all the lost souls’. From his vantage point, he would then tell them where they were going wrong and attempt to guide them to the centre. They came here in all weathers, at least when it was open, and enjoyed all the seasons equally; each having its own atmosphere. It was now spring, and despite the gloominess of the day Mary could see clematis and honeysuckle beginning to bloom, finding the surface again after winter.
Her solitary figure had become a regular sight to the gardeners and groundkeepers, although Mary was not the only person to enjoy such walks. She had not been in the gardens long when her name was called from behind. She turned and saw a familiar face.
‘Oh, Mary, it is you!’
‘Jane, what a lovely surprise!’
Jane was around five years older than Mary and like her was unmarried. Unlike her, though, there was no fiancé in her life. In fact, Mary could not remember Jane ever talking about any romantic attachments in the three years she had known her. This did not concern her though, for although Mary did not see Jane often, each time they met she always came away feeling enlivened from their encounter.
‘How is your mother?’ Mary asked. ‘I understand she has been unwell.’
‘Yes, she has been quite ill. So much so we thought we were going to lose her. Mr Bowden, our apothecary, was of the same opinion, but she has shown great fortitude and has come through unscathed. She is so recovered, in fact, that she has written a humorous poem about the whole experience!’
‘I am so glad to hear she is better. It must have been stressful for your father.’
Jane nodded.
‘Father is not in the best of health either. He has taken to using a walking stick and finds, at times, even the journey to Mr Bowden’s premises in Argyle Street to be tiring. Mother’s illness has shaken him into activity, however. We have a few months left on the lease of our house, but father has decreed we are to leave the city for the seaside, at least as a temporary measure.’
‘Oh, you are to leave Bath?’ said Mary, surprised. ‘When?’
‘As soon as arrangements can be made, I believe. I will enjoy the sea air, but I admit I shall miss the city and its walks, in these gardens and in the countryside. I have come out today to take as much advantage of them as our time left in the city affords. I may even attempt a longer walk before we leave, although I do prefer a companion for those.’
‘My brother and I are going to walk to Swainswick this Friday, if the weather is fine; we are to visit my mother’s grave. You are most welcome to join us.’
‘That would be most agreeable,’ replied Jane, visibly excited. ‘And I can pay our family’s respects at the same time. Mother was very sad she could not attend the funeral, as we all were, being in Lyme Regis at the time. Can I enquire as to the way you intend to walk there?’
‘We have not discussed the exact route yet.’
‘Then may I propose we go through the village of Charlcombe on the way. It is a charming little place, with wonderful views.’
‘That does sound wonderful. I am certain my brother will not mind which way we go.’
‘Then it is set,’ said Jane, smiling. ‘Now, would you care to join me in a walk around the gardens, or shall we continue in our solitudes!’
‘Together would be most agreeable,’ replied Mary.
As they walked through the gardens they passed a board advertising the foods available for the public breakfast, which took place at the Sydney Hotel each day.
‘I must confess,’ said Mary, seeing the board, ‘I am quite hungry. I did have breakfast but did not eat much of it, as I was occupied with a piece of writing.’
‘I can appreciate that feeling,’ replied Jane. ‘I can miss several meals at a time when my prose is in full flow.’
‘I did not know you wrote,’ said Mary. ‘Have you had anything published?’
‘No. A manuscript was bought by a publisher last year. He even advertised the book as being for sale, but so far it has yet to see the light of day.’
‘What is it about?’ enquired Mary.
‘Let us retire to a table for breakfast and I shall enlighten you.’
Once they had been seated, Jane continued. ‘It concerns an unusual heroine who finds herself within a drama of her own making. The first part of the book is set in the city. I had the idea for it when I first visited Bath a few years ago. And what about your own writing, Mary?’
Mary told her companion about the booklet and how she was having trouble writing an inspirational opening paragraph.
‘You must draw the reader in like an old friend,’ said Jane, ‘and whet their appetite for a story.’
‘This is not a story,’ said Mary, ‘it is about someone’s life.’
‘Then you must make their life feel as though it is a story. In that way the words will come alive for the reader.’
‘I will try. Thank you,’ said Mary.
They finished their breakfast together and made their way back to the Sydney Hotel entrance. Outside the gardens they parted, Jane crossing the street to her house in Sydney Place, Mary carrying on up Great Pulteney Street. Whatever else the morning had been, she thought, it had reacquainted her with a friend and also given her a female companion for the walk to Swainswick on Friday. As much as she was endeared to her brother, the opportunity to have an extended conversation with another female, of similar age and intelligence, was something to relish and anticipate.
Mary arrived home and went upstairs to her bedroom. She took out her writing paper and began to rewrite the opening paragraph; the words flowing as if they had always been there but had simply been waiting for the chance to be set down. She sat back on her bed, read what she had written and felt deeply satisfied. It had been a productive morning after all.
For a moment she wondered what matter had kept Jack from returning home for breakfast, but she knew better than to enquire.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘So what are your thoughts as to this unfortunate matter, Swann?’ enquired Lady Harriet as they returned in her carriage to the city.
‘From what I have observed, Lady Harriet, it seems to be murder in the case of the pupil, perpetrated by the teacher, followed by self-poisoning. But if this is the situation, I do not understand why you have engaged my services; unless, of course, there is information not yet disclosed to me.’
‘In all likelihood, a murder and suicide is exactly what these two deaths are,’ replied Lady Harriet. ‘However, I cannot risk overlooking the possibility that more sinister forces are at work, especially
given the situation the country is in at present.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Now we are at war with France again, Napoleon Bonaparte will do anything to gain an upper hand, to secure an advantage.’
‘I am lost, Lady Harriet. I do not understand how being at war with France can be connected to these two deaths.’
‘What I am about to tell you must not go outside this carriage.’
Swann instinctively moved forward in his seat. ‘You can be assured of my utmost discretion, Lady Harriet,’ he said.
Lady Harriet seemed satisfied by this assurance.
‘For a number of years, even during the period of the Amiens peace, both our government and the French have been involved in the drawing up of plans to gain victory against the other. Bonaparte’s are variations on how to invade us, while our plans focus on his removal from power, the belief by our government being that it would be easier to win the war against France if Bonaparte, as the First Consul, was not in office.’
Swann was silent for a few moments, deep in thought. He then spoke.
‘Well, given the fact that French troops are stationed on their own coast, and have been for several months, but are still led by Napoleon, it seems neither plan has yet been successful.’
‘It is not through lack of fortitude on our part. We have, for instance, recently enlisted the help of several dissident French generals sympathetic to our cause. They have their own agenda, of course, that of restoring the monarchy, or else assuming power themselves, but one of them came close to assassinating the First Consul four years ago.’
‘Cadoudal?’
Lady Harriet was surprised. ‘We refer to him simply as Georges, but you know of him?’
‘Only by reputation,’ said Swann. ‘French politician and military General turned assassin and rebel. As leader of the Chouannerie he organised a failed uprising against the First Republic. Arrested, he managed to escape and took refuge in England and has been waging his own war against Napoleon ever since; most famously, as you have mentioned, in the attempt on the First Consul’s life in December 1800. I have no further information, but assumed he had returned to England.’
‘You are right in your assumption,’ replied Lady Harriet. She shook her head, remembering. ‘They came so close in the Rue Sainte Nicaise, where the bomb was planted; if only Bonaparte’s carriage had passed the cart two minutes later.’
‘It is said that Napoleon was sleeping in his carriage and did not even wake when the explosion occurred.’
Lady Harriet nodded.
‘If it had succeeded, our concerns would have been over. As for this current plan, it began last summer when several royal insurgents, including Georges, along with many of our own men, were secretly landed on the coast of France. Reinforcements were sent at the beginning of this year. The aim was for them to travel to Paris, where they would assemble to undertake the task of kidnapping the First Consul and so removing him from power. We expected surveillance by their police, but we believed luck would be with us this time. It seems, however, one of the insurgents disclosed the plan, most probably under torture, although we are not discounting the possibility of a double agent within our midst. Either way, one by one, all of the main protagonists have been arrested. Georges, as we have recently learnt, was arrested two weeks ago. The plan has failed.’
‘And this is somehow related to the two deaths?’ asked Swann.
‘Possibly,’ replied Lady Harriet.
‘But how?’
‘As soon as we learned of the first arrests, a second plan, using less distinguished personnel, was made ready. I cannot divulge details, only to say that it involves our agents travelling to France, this time assuming the cover of French families and hopefully drawing less attention to themselves.’
‘Do I presume Miss Leigh and the girl were part of this plan?’
‘No, only the girl; she was to leave yesterday afternoon to join her family and then travel to France in the next few days.’
‘I find it hard to believe the French would go to so much trouble to kill a girl? And besides, how would they have known?’
‘I share your opinion, Swann, but there are spies and informants everywhere; Bonaparte has a network of them operating throughout the country. Thankfully, through our own channels, we know many of them and several have now started to work for our own government. We even sent one of these agents to protect the girl at the school, while at the same time helping her to improve her spoken French and learn the culture.’
‘So if you thought they may have been murdered, why did you allow their bodies to be taken off the island before I could observe the scene?’
‘The longer they were allowed to remain there, the greater the possibility of word leaking out as to the truth, whatever that may be. Bringing the bodies to the chapel immediately and reporting it as an accident saves a lot of unnecessary complications.’
‘What will be listed as the cause of death?’
‘A reliable doctor was summoned and performed his duties accordingly.’
‘Isn’t that doing a disservice to the two victims and their families?’
‘As I thought you would be aware by now, Swann, there are bigger issues at stake. This is why I have engaged your services.’
‘If this is a matter of national security, may I enquire as to why you are not dealing with it yourself or assigning men from the Alien Office?’
‘I have my reasons,’ she said.
Swann glanced out of the carriage window and saw they were heading along the top of Lansdown.
‘As I have said, Lady Harriet, if I do agree to this case then I have to be allowed to undertake it in my own way.’
Lady Harriet nodded.
‘I would also like the answer to the following question. Where was the girl’s “protector” when she was murdered?’
‘According to his report, she climbed out of the dormitory window some time during the morning, as he stood outside her room. He then did not see her again until her body was discovered.’
‘And you believe him?’ asked Swann.
‘I do not know what to believe, which is why I want you to find out exactly what happened.’
Swann nodded. ‘It does seem slightly improbable he would have murdered the girl and then not left the grounds.’
‘All I know is that our plan to remove Bonaparte has failed and will now give him the resolve to increase his preparations for invasion. He refers to the English Channel as “a ditch that can be leapt by the bold” and he is becoming bolder by the hour. We have reason to believe he is planning a three-pronged attack; from above, by sea, and subterranean.’
‘A tunnel under the Channel? Could they achieve such a feat?’
‘Our government believes it is possible.’
‘And how would the invasion from the air occur?’
‘We understand they would use hot-air balloons.’
The military’s application of an activity previously undertaken for pleasure did not come as any great surprise to Swann.
‘Bonaparte will not be able to move until May, of course,’ continued Lady Harriet, ‘as the currents and weather are against him until that time. The Admiralty has given its assurance that our navy is still unbeatable but nevertheless we have to be alert and watch his preparations. Especially as our domestic affairs are in a delicate state, what with the King ill again and the current Parliament seen as ineffective.’
‘What is wrong with King George this time?’
‘He was apparently inspecting his troops and caught a severe chill. But it is worse than that – his mind is not as it should be. He is apparently giving orders that make no sense. Whether the two deaths at the school are in anyway part of all these various states of affairs, I do not know, but I need to find out one way or another as I have to confess a personal interest. When news of these deaths becomes public knowledge, if it is seen as anything other than a tragic accident, Catherine’s school may have to close down.’
‘I will be honest, Lady Harriet, I feel there is information which is being kept from me and if I am not in possession of all the facts, I am not sure I can take this case.’
‘Yes, there are things of which you have not been informed, Swann, but I cannot reveal them to you; all I can say is that there is more at stake than you can possibly realise. The entire future of the country’s liberty is at stake and I have sworn to protect that at whatever cost. I am asking you as a personal favour to take this case.’
The carriage entered the city and headed towards the Guildhall, where Swann had requested to be taken.
‘I will take the case, then,’ said Swann.
‘Thank you,’ said Lady Harriet, gratefully. ‘I shall arrange for you to go to Frome the day after tomorrow. Miss Leigh came from the town and she has a sister who still lives there. You will be taken to visit her by an acquaintance of mine, Mr Thomas Bunn. I want you to talk to this woman and find out what kind of person her sister was, who she was acquainted with and where her sympathies lay.’
Swann looked puzzled.
‘I understand Miss Leigh spent some time abroad,’ explained Lady Harriet. ‘This can sometimes have an effect on one’s patriotism, let us say. Before then, I have arranged with Catherine for you return to the school tomorrow, to talk to those who shared the dormitory with the deceased girl.’
‘Could I not have questioned them today?’
‘Catherine wished to prepare the girls, to allow them to take in the news; and besides, I believe you have another appointment, one to which you desired to attend at the earliest opportunity.’
The Circle of Sappho Page 4