Monday,
13
March,
1876
We are settling into quarters at Sir Simon's home. I admit, I
really wasn't expecting anything so expansive. Sir Simon is so
modest in his bearing, and his mother and his sister, with whom I have
been acquainted for some time now, are as affable and unaffected
as anyone could wish. They seem to get on rather well with Helen.
This is probably because although Helen is now nominally the mistress
of the house, she does not insist on precedence, and seeks the advice
of the long-resident MacGreggor ladies in all domestic questions.
Here we see the ideal of rural gentility, but with a notable dash of
native intelligence. Sir Simon's father must have been quite
dreadful during his life to drive Sir Simon away from this lovely
place. As annoying as Bernard MacGreggor, Esq might be in
decease, his temperament has clearly improved.
Our arrival has taken all day, as different parties of the League come
from various corners by various means. Those of us who came from
Edenfield had the use of Lord Cowperthwaite's private car, though Lord
Cowperthwaite himself, along with Mrs Wooster and Miss Moriarty, and
some of the London staff, came direct from London by first-class public
car.
We are all looking forward to a break from routine, especially, I
think, Lord Cowperthwaite, who for the next little while will not be
obliged to go to-and-fro to London. He can enjoy the company of
his wife and his sons, uninterrupted. Though I must admit, the
children are an interruption unto themselves. I don't know why I
am surprised. The older children in any family often react to the
addition of new siblings by testing the limits of adult
endurance. In the case of our combined families, the effect has
been vastly amplified. We had all settled into a good
understanding, and the children have been mainly obliging and obedient
since our trip to India. Now with the babies requiring so much
attention, the older children are getting into every possible
hazard. Especially when they are together, they have a knack for
inventing schemes with far more intelligence than judgement. Even
the infants are startlingly precocious.
I am disappointed that my search for a junior nursery maid has thus far
been unsuccessful. I suppose our brilliant good fortune with
Violet, Daru, and now Chi have unrealistically raised my expectations
of finding a suitable candidate. For now, we must simply do our
best not to overburden the nursery staff. I just wish Benton were
coming with us, he does very well with Matthew and Donald. Let it
be a reminder to me to appreciate his help.
Tuesday, 14 March 1876
I don't know when I have met with such a concentration of
self-importance. We attended an at-home afternoon at the
residence of Professor and Mrs Maples. The Professor is part of
the faculty of Jordan College, and one of the organizers of Mr
Moriarty's visiting professorship. The gathering was intended to
honour Mr Moriarty and introduce him to some of Prof Maples' social and
academic circle.
Our host actually wore his academic robes during this entire
party. What does he mean by it? None of the other academics
wore their robes, but neither did they seem to remark much Prof Maples'
attire--perhaps a bit of eye-rolling behind his back. From that
and a few sotto-voce comments, I take it that this concerted assertion
of his academic standing is not out of character.
And on the topic of showing off, Wilhelmina Miss Moriarty was
much sought by an assortment of tutors, readers, and upper-level
students. The older gentlemen seemed put-off by her particular
combination of technical knowledge and flirtatious manner, as though
they simply cannot reconcile the girlish mannerisms with the forward
display of intellect. The younger attendees, in contrast, seemed
to find her fascinating. How much was genuine interest in her
conversation and how much was leering at her bodice, I would not
venture to say.
Miss Moriarty was eager to speak to her cousin--they have corresponded,
but have not met before now, as he has been abroad and presently
resides and lectures act Bracton, in Somersetshire. His manner toward
her was polite, faintly patronising. Fortunately for him, I think
she was too excited to detect the condescension in his tone, or she
would surely eventually find some embarrassing way to disabuse him of
any idea of superiority.
Miss Pinker and I together managed the duties of chaperone--I could
obviously not do it alone, since I was also obliged to attend to
Matthew and Donald. Fortunately, Mrs Cuthbert seemed to enjoy
assisting me in carrying about whichever of the boys I was not
holding. In addition to chaperoning Miss Moriarty, Miss Pinker is
doubling as a sort of companion for Lady Cowperthwaite, keeping by her
and attempting to steer her out of the worst faux-pas. No one can
be entirely successful in this, but Miss Pinker has the best luck of
all of us. Mrs Wooster and Mrs Salmalin both elected to stay
behind with the children.
Of course we cannot possibly have a social gathering without some sort
of untoward incident. This time, Lady Cowperthwaite somehow
managed to upset an intricate network of interconnected rose trellises
which fairly covered the Maples’ garden. Some of the roses had
evidently been growing there for many years--kept elegantly pruned, to
all appearances, and yet thoroughly entangled one with the next.
When Lady Cowperthwaite caught her skirts in one rose bush’s thorns,
her struggles to free herself brought the entire construction down in a
spectacular sequence. One section crashed into one of the tables,
causing a punchbowl to fly upwards and toward a cluster of guests. She
shouted a warning, and most of the guests were able to dodge out of the
way. The gentlemen of our party were quick enough and strong
enough to catch the trellises in strategic places and prevent any
serious injury.
It was about this time that I was obliged to depart with the babies,
but it looked as though the puzzles and debates of how to repair and
improve the trellises would be far more diverting to the engineers in
the company than the usual tea-party entertainments. I shudder to
think what improvements they might think up.
(Later)
We have had a nice evening, with a little stroll around the near areas
of Sir Simon's grounds, a tour of the recently renovated conservatory
and the laboratory rooms that Helen has designed.
I should mention that when we returned from the Maples' party, we found
that all the children and nursery staff, along with Mrs Salmalin and
Mrs Wooster, had spent a good part of the afternoon sequestered in the
North drawing room, our designated secure room. It would seem
that when Lady Cowperthwaite called out her warning about the trellis
falling, Galen heard it in that strange way he has. To his
credit, he did not use it as a reason to go haring off to find her, but
rather reported the occurrence to Mrs Salmalin, who then oversaw the
gathering of the children, the nursery staff, and the mothers presently
in the house. After some time passed with no further incident,
Lady MacGreggor slipped out to confer with the household staff, who are
not so accustomed to these types of occurrences and upsets, and weren't
sure what to do.
Around the same time, Mrs Wooster went out to search for Baby Rupert,
who had vanished in the mysterious manner we have come to expect from
him. With a little help from Mrs Salmalin's scrying, he was
finally located, napping contentedly, in one of Mrs Wooster's weapons
cases.
I have yet to determine how he does this--vanishing completely, when
whoever is watching him looks away, even briefly, to be later found in
some closed location. He can only just crawl (which is a surprise
in itself, for an infant not three months out of the womb), and we
routinely find him in locked rooms, closed drawers, and chests quite
distant from where he was last seen, which he should not be able to
reach, much less climb into. He always seems to turn up safe and
content. This is plainly outside of the normal range of infant
ability, and though I am loathe to speculate so wildly, I suspect this
talent is a sort of birthright from his "avatar" mother. When
Galen first began to show the ability to use the same sort of voice as
his mother, and when I discovered what appeared to be likenesses of the
two of them among Sir Robert Plank's collection of images from India, I
speculated that Galen was by association also an avatar, perhaps of one
of Kali's (or her happier aspect Parvati's) children ("Skanda" seems
possible). Given what I have learned of the Hindoo pantheon, it
seems possible that Rupert is displaying qualities of Parvati's younger
son, Ganesh, known as "the remover of obstacles" by his
adherents. I don't know what these so-called deities are, if they
are some sort of entity capable of possessing human beings, or some
energy or power without sentience which is channelled and given shape
by Lady Cowperthwaite's beliefs. I have no means, at present, of
thoroughly researching the causes of the case, so I can only continue
to observe the phenomena. At least Ganesh is reputed to be a
beneficent creature, and is well loved by his adherents. I hope
that beneficence will develop as part of Rupert's character.
Wednesday, 15 March
Today was quite a delight. Several of us went into Oxford to
visit libraries and see colleagues. I had written ahead to
several of my correspondents, and was invited to call on Professor
Bartshorn at his offices in St Joseph's college. Also joining us
were Mr Jeremiah Pinsdale, whose recent paper on communication among
ants I had reviewed for the Letters of the British Entomological
Society, and Dr Richard March, who has asked me to illustrate his
treatise on the Development of Spores in Lowland Ferns. In
addition I met a few others, hitherto unknown to me, who know me by
reputation and seemed eager to make my acquaintance--most interesting
were Dr March's niece Miss Isabel Bafton, and M. Frederic Sartin, late
of Brussels. Conspicuous for his absence was Mr Hubert Abernish,
who seems to have dropped my acquaintance since my return from the
South China Sea. No one mentioned him today, even to excuse him
for not answering my invitation, so I suppose I will simply have to let
him drop.
My friends and new acquaintances were also happy to meet Miss
MacGreggor. When Lord and Lady Cowperthwaite, Miss Moriarty and
that whole contingent went on to tour the various libraries,
laboratories, and other places of interest to them, Miss MacGreggor was
kind enough to act as my guide, walking about with me and carrying
Matthew or Donald by turns. More than once we passed by clusters
of students, acquaintances of hers, some of whom subjected her to some
teasing on account of carrying a baby about. She responded to
them with like impudence, obviously well equipped to give as good as
she got. Some were better mannered, meriting sufficiently
civilized for her to make introductions to my august self. One or
two even recognised my name and knew some of my work, though I can't be
sure these hadn't been rehearsed ahead of time by Miss MacGreggor.
While many of us were out, Mrs Salmalin took on the task of looking
into the circumstances of Reverend Summerfield and his niece, Mrs Cole
(nee Waring). At the Maples' reception, Lady Cowperthwaite was
eavesdropping on a conversation between the Reverend and Mr Cole
regarding Mrs Cole's allowance under the terms of the trust
administered by her uncle. Mr Cole thinks that the Reverend is
not making sufficient allowance available. Ever on the lookout
for someone's business to pry into, Lady Cowperthwaite is Taking an
Interest is this young couple's affairs. I should be grateful
that she has at least determined that research is in order before any
shouting or explosions. She has instructed Mrs Salmalin to learn
about the matter, and with Helen's approval has sent to invite the
Coles to tea. The senior Mrs MacGreggor proved to know something
about them, as she has been resident in these parts for some years and
is familiar with the society of Uffington and Oxford.
Thursday, 16 March
I spent a good part of the day out on the MacGreggor
grounds with the older children today. We walked about looking at
trees, looking under rocks and examining pond animals. We had a
spirited discussion about the identification of some feathers we found
at the margin of a fallow meadow. After luncheon, we made
watercolours of our favourite animals. Caroline did a
particularly lovely (if not exactly accurate) bird, and I promised to
send it to her grandparents (she originally wanted to send it to the
Royal Society for inclusion in their publications, but I convinced her
that Grandpapa would appreciate it so much more).
This evening's lecture by Mr Moriarty was essentially as I
expected. He elaborated on a few points from the paper published
in the Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society, and made his
rebuttal to several of the critiques printed in response. The
majority of the audience seemed unusually civil for an academic crowd,
and ready to at least accept Mr Moriarty's ideas as a working
hypothesis. Questions and comments after the formal lecture
consisted mainly of clarifications and disputes of fairly minor points.
The notable exception was Reverend Summerfield, who seemed to await his
moment and then pounce gleefully upon Mr Moriarty's arguments. He
seemed to be attacking the most fundamental questions about why and how
asteroids exist, rather than the substance of the paper, which is about
how to predict their motions. I was perplexed by his line of
argument, as was Mr Moriarty I think, for he responded to Summerfield's
rhetoric with an attitude between bemusement and thinly-veiled
impatience, gradually building to a sharper display of temper.
Others in the room variously rolled their eyes or sat forward in their
seats as if expecting a gladiatorial finish. At last the
Reverend's purpose became clearer--the entire display had been to
manipulate Mr Moriarty into an admission of atheism. It is an
open secret among academics that many are, if not outright atheist,
then indifferent on the subject of religion, particularly scholars in
the more concrete fields. This is now rather at odds with the
largely religious origins of most of our colleges. Mr Moriarty is
a lecturer at Bracton, which actively maintains its religious
affiliation, and so Mr Moriarty could be in danger of losing his place
there if his admission attracts the attention of Bracton's Chancellor
and Deans. The evening concluded in an unfortunate welter of
ill-feelings.
Friday, 17 March 1876
Now this is starting to resemble a more typical
League outing. We have a murder to investigate, one of our party
has been a suspect as a result of being nearby, and there was a loud
explosion in the night (though unexpectedly, it was not caused by
anyone of our party).
The murder victim is the Rev Summerfield. He was found,
bludgeoned and stabbed to death, in a narrow alley between two
buildings not far from Jordan College.
As it happens, Mr O'Flaherty and his very large sword (don't ask me why
he carries it about with him, but I admit it does seem to keep coming
in handy) were quite nearby when the body was discovered, and so he was
taken in for questioning by two very brave if not so bright constables.
The reason Mr O'Flaherty was nearby was related to the explosion I
mentioned. He had been out for a walk (read "looking for a
pub") in the general direction of Oxford, strolling through a meadow,
when he heard a noise and looked up. An object, a conglomeration
of metal and wood and straps, was flying through the air at high speed
and low altitude, and quite ablaze with aetheric energy. The
object was flying directly toward a building, and Mr O'Flaherty rightly
thought it could do great harm to anyone inside. Without
hesitation, he jumped up to divert it, and managed to grab
it. It dragged him along some way before it exploded,
flinging him into a nearby pond. When he emerged, disoriented and
covered with a particularly slimy mud, townspeople were creeping out to
investigate the noise. He must have been a sight!
So, when some of those townspeople found Rev Summerfield's body in
their walkway, little wonder that they jumped to conclusions.
By the time the constable sent from Oxford arrived, most of us were up
anyhow, since the explosion was loud enough for some of us to hear all
the way in Uffington. Many of our company headed to Oxford to
assist in the inquiry. Mr O'Flaherty was released from custody
after Sir Simon could demonstrate to everyone's satisfaction that the
deceased's stab wounds were definitely caused by a much smaller blade
than Mr O'Flaherty's sword.
A more likely murder weapon was in fact found near
the body--an ebony-handled folding knife with a 4-inch blade.
I myself had stayed behind, as I was in the midst of looking after my
infants, and the carriages were near overloaded already--I took on the
duty of minding the children. I had an opportunity to join the
group in Oxford a little later, when Mrs Salmalin came back with a
suspected murder weapon (for scrying) and with Octavia, who had sneaked
aboard one of the carriages earlier. Mrs Salmalin and I traded
places and I returned to have a look.
In Oxford, Lord Cowperthwaite and Miss Moriarty had found the wreckage
of the flying object, and determined that it seemed meant to be a
flying conveyance, and certainly was powered by an autunite
battery. Lord Cowperthwaite instantly undertook to treat Mr
O'Flaherty for autunite poisoning, though he has expressed some
surprise that Mr O'Flaherty has not suffered more severe effects
already. He postulates that some property of the mud that Mr
O'Flaherty was so liberally smeared may have protected him and so Lord
Cowperthwaite has taken some samples to research its properties.
It certainly seems possible enough to warrant investigation, though I
would not discount the possibility that the power of that sword extends
protection to its bearer.
As for the device, some of our party traced its reported trajectory and
found its launch site, in a meadow near Jordan college. Further
inquiry there revealed that two upper-level students had been caught
outside their rooms, and they were brought forth for questioning.
Mr West and Mr Fortune (whom, I should note, we met at Prof Maples'
reception on Tuesday) confessed to building and launching the device, a
prototype autunite-powered flying machine. When they lost control
of the device and it crashed, they thought it the better part of valour
to flee. They could not maintain the pretence of ignorance once
confronted, however, and seemed not particularly chastened when
reprimanded for careless handling of a dangerous material, as well as
being out past hours.
They were able to offer testimony about Rev Summerfield's
movements. While they were sneaking about, approximately at
11:00, they witnessed a verbal altercation between Summerfield and Mr
Moriarty in the green beside Jordan College. This testimony along
with the recognition (by Lady Cowperthwaite, among others) of the
possible murder weapon as resembling one seen in Mr Moriarty's
possession is enough for Mr Moriarty to be brought in to account for
himself.
This is where we leave it for the moment. Sir Simon has wired to
London to ask Mr Frazer to look into some of the persons of interest in
the case, and Mr Frazer will bring that information and his own capable
self to assist us tomorrow. Sir Simon has asked me to break the
bad news to the Reverend's niece Mrs Cole in the morning, so I had
better get an hour or two of rest while I can.
Proceed to Somewhat more
dubious
Return to Miss Sinclair's Diary Index
Contents this page copyright 2004 by Ieva Ohaks. All Rights Reserved.