The Royal Ghost

by Linda Stratmann

  When the sisters entered the Pavilion they discovered to their disappointment that the entertainment which they had seen advertised in the newspaper would not be given until later that day, after the time appointed for their departure. They decided instead to take a tour of the building, and paid their sixpences to join a party and be guided by an attendant. The first room they saw on leaving the ticket hall was the vestibule, also known as the Hall of the Worthies. Although they thought the decorative columns and carving very fine, and could not fail to be impressed by a large statue of a handsome young soldier waving a sword – a hero of the Crimean War who had died on the battlefield – neither felt any great attraction to the display of busts depicting stern-faced gentlemen, notabilities of Brighton of whom they had never heard. As the attendant expounded at wearisome length on the many virtues and achievements of the citizens of Brighton, the Misses Bland, by mutual agreement, slipped away and explored on their own.

  As they walked it seemed to them that the rooms gradually became darker and the shadows deeper. The sound of visitors’ voices and the music of the band that had seeped in from outside slowly faded until they vanished altogether. The ladies suddenly realised that they were quite alone, and each commented to the other that it was very strange that no one else was about, as the day was fine and the whole building ought to be thronged with people. Supposing that they had inadvertently wandered into rooms usually denied to visitors, they decided that it would be best to find their way back to the vestibule and rejoin their party. After some further twists and turns, which confused them, they entered a room which they were sure from its dimensions and the construction and positioning of its pillars was the vestibule they sought, but it was decorated quite differently, and there were no busts, no statue, and no people. Miss Ada was becoming quite nervous by now, but her sister reassured her that they had simply lost their way, and if they walked on they would soon find the entrance again. They continued to wander, and it was in a drawing room decorated with blue wallpaper and draperies that they really became afraid. They could hear voices again, but although they were not far away they were muffled, as if invisible persons were standing in the room with them, whispering and laughing softly, and when they tried to find the people who spoke they could not. There was music, too, not of a military band, but the gentle sigh of violins and the sweet note of flutes. They heard the clatter of silverware on porcelain and the clink of glassware as if a feast was in progress, but nowhere could they discover where this entertainment was taking place. The room was all hung about with lanterns that cast a strange smoky golden light, quite unlike the gleam of gas that had lit the other portions of the house, and they realised that these beautiful old lamps were lit by oil. The sisters walked on, passing through many more rooms, one of them a long gallery decorated in the Chinese style, with deep niches occupied by life-size statues clad in gorgeous oriental robes.

  In one large and magnificent room carved serpents wound themselves sinuously about decorative columns, and the walls were hung with lavishly painted Chinese scenes, the whole topped by a golden dome from which depended a lamp of glittering glass shaped like a gigantic flower and guarded by dragons. A wide recess housed a pipe organ of enormous dimensions in the form of a triumphal arch. The sisters, their feet sinking into the luxurious carpet, had been looking about them entranced by the sheer size and opulence of the room and everything in it, when a man had appeared before them with remarkable suddenness. Youthful and handsome, he was dressed very elegantly in the style of the last century. The gentleman hesitated as he saw the ladies, then bowed in a formal manner before passing them by and leaving the room. To the sisters’ astonishment, when they tried the door they thought he must have come through they found it impossible to open. Not a little puzzled by this, they retraced their steps. Much later, when they compared notes, both agreed they had seen the man but while Bertha had not seen him enter the room Ada confessed that it seemed to her as if he had stepped through the wall.

  Walking on, they found a drawing room decorated in deep red, resplendent with gilded mirrors, paintings and ornaments, and saw what they thought was a tableau or perhaps a play being enacted. The air was close and very hot, and before them were two figures, extremely lifelike, but moving slowly as though in a dream. The man was sumptuously dressed in a uniform with glittering accoutrements, and he was strongly built with a noble countenance and fine curling hair. The lady was reclining on a long couch which almost filled a recess that faced windows deeply curtained in rich velvet, and she was dressed in a style that had long gone out of fashion. She resembled a figure in a painting rather than a living woman, yet she moved as though alive. Her gown had a very full skirt of lustrous golden silk, with deep side draperies and a bodice and sleeves in sky blue, adorned with pink silk ribbons and bows. The bodice was very low in front, bordered with a great froth of lace revealing a white bosom that undulated like the waves of a milky sea. Most beautiful, however, was the tumbling mass of light ringleted hair that framed a face at once expressive and intelligent. With a movement of effortless grace the lady, who looked upon her swain with great affection, extended a delicate hand towards him, and he at once seized it, fell upon his knees before her and covered the hand with kisses that spoke soundlessly yet eloquently of a burning passion.

  All around them the wallpaper glowed like the flames of a fire, and on it there were coiled figures of dragons and serpents, writhing in the most extraordinary manner, and exotic flowers with large fleshy petals.

  The Misses Bland had by now begun to wonder if they had stumbled upon something they were not meant to see, yet the two lovers were oblivious of their presence, and gave so much of the appearance of a dumbshow that the ladies doubted that they were entirely real. They had heard of lifelike figures worked by mechanical means and thought that perhaps this was the nature of the sight before them, such things not being beyond what a royal building might contain. The male figure then started to utter great groans and sighs, and suddenly threw himself on the couch beside the lady, who, so far from trying to quell his ardour seemed actually to welcome his violent attentions. Before the sisters’ horrified gaze he seized his paramour about the waist with one arm, while the other began to make free with her flowing skirts, and leaning forward, pressed his lips…

  Mina shut the book.

  It was some time before she dared open it again, and the scene that followed was lavished with descriptions that owed a great deal to horticulture and statuary with some military and sporting allusions. No reader would have been in any doubt as to the amorous nature of the event being alluded to, yet the words themselves were not indecent, and it was this and the innocence of the observers that must have saved the authors from prosecution. Any actual indecency was solely created by the mind of the reader.

  The Misses Bland, shocked and amazed, departed the drawing room leaving the two figures in a state imitating the exhaustion of two athletes who had just run a race. Before long, they found the vestibule as they had originally encountered it, and so departed the building. By unspoken agreement the only part of their tour they mentioned to their father was the Hall of the Worthies. Neither had liked to talk freely between themselves about what they had seen, and it was only a week afterwards when they had written their individual accounts of the visit that the sisters compared their impressions. They agreed that they could not have seen actual persons but, given what their father had said about the tastes of the late King George, they felt sure that they must have seen some automata meant for his private viewing.

  Later in the season the sisters once again made a trip to Brighton, and searched the Pavilion very carefully for the rooms they had seen on their earlier unaccompanied wanderings, but while they found what they thought must be the same rooms, none were decorated in the style they had previously observed. There were no large Chinese statues, no pipe organ in the large music room, and the apartment with the red wallpaper was without ornamentation or its long couch. Subtle enquiries r
egarding life-size figures were met by assertions that there were currently none in the Pavilion, that of the Crimean hero being too large and all the others too small. All statues were in any case quite incapable of movement. The only automaton that had recently been displayed in the Pavilion was a mechanical chess player garbed as a Turk. They were shown a poster portraying this machine, and anything less like the gentleman and lady in the red room could not be imagined. The sisters then enquired if there had been a figure or a portrait resembling the lady they had seen, and described her clothing. At this the attendant had looked surprised and directed them to a booklet that included a picture of the very lady. She was, he said, Mrs Fitzherbert, and the great love of the late King George when he had been Prince of Wales. While she had never resided in the Pavilion the Prince had provided her with a house close by and she had been a frequent visitor until he had been obliged to throw her over in order to marry a princess. Another picture in the book alerted their attention, for it was of the very man they had seen in the Red Drawing Room, King George himself, but before his excesses had made him an object of satire, when he had been a young and dashing Prince.

  It was only then that the Misses Bland realised that what they had seen had not been mere automata but the ghostly figures of the Prince and his beloved, locked in the throes of their mutual passion for all eternity, sundered by cruel necessity but together again after death.

  It was all nonsense of course, thought Mina, a romantic tale with more intimate detail than might be thought appropriate. As a work of fiction she had encountered far worse. Still, she had promised Dr Hamid and Anna to discover more, and decided to write a letter to Mr Greville, her father’s former partner who now managed the Scarletti publishing business. She explained that this mysterious work had set everyone in Brighton talking, and asked if he knew the real identity of the authors.

  The book’s text did supply some useful clues as to when the sisters’ visit had taken place. While military bands were a regular feature during the season, the conjuror and chess automaton were less usual entertainments that must have been advertised in the newspapers. Surely, Mina thought, she could easily discover for herself when the supposed encounter had taken place.

  Mina made some notes and returned the book to her mother’s room. It was probably unnecessary but she made sure that it was in exactly the same position as before. Back in her bedroom she waited for the symptoms of hysteria to overcome her, but she waited in vain.

  Five

  Her letter written, Mina settled to completing her story about Eliza, the little lady with the twisted body who lit up the lives of all those who met her. The house was quiet, the sound of parlour gossip being too distant to invade her peaceful sanctuary. Few noises from downstairs, apart from the doorbell, or the usual clatter of excitement that announced the arrival of Richard, were loud enough to disturb her concentration. Enid’s bedroom was next to her own, and as Mina worked she heard voices in the hallway, and guessed that her sister had returned from her walk. Enid’s morning constitutional in the company of the nursemaid, Anderson, and the twins had become a regular event, which enabled her to display her latest adornments and invite the admiration of the town. Unlike the fate of many a matron, Enid’s figure had been quickly restored to its customary trimness after the birth of her children, and she took great delight in showing off her fashion plate silhouette in tightly buttoned gowns that drew the eye to her tiny waist. Mina had no concerns that Enid might come into her room and interrupt her work. It was never explicitly stated, but Enid clearly felt awkward in contemplating Mina’s distorted form, and had a horror of accidentally seeing her in a state of undress.

  If Louisa was busy admiring the twins, then it was certain that Mrs Bettinson had taken her leave, as she was not fond of babies. Mina worked quietly on, but a few minutes later Rose knocked hesitantly on the door and advised Mina that her mother wished to speak to her. Such a summons never boded well and Mina reluctantly put down her pen. For a moment she wondered if her mother wanted her to inspect the twins for potential scoliosis, but as she worked her way downstairs, she passed Anderson taking her contented charges up to the nursery. Mystified, she pushed open the parlour door and found her mother frowning at the Brighton Gazette, which was open at the page advertising public amusements. A less amused look could not be imagined.

  ‘You wished to speak to me, mother?’ Mina hoped that she was only wanted on some trivial errand, but prepared herself for a lengthy exposition of her mother’s well-worn opinions and general irritation with family, friends, society in general and herself in particular.

  ‘It seems,’ announced Louisa with a deeply offended expression, ‘that we are all obliged to attend a lecture on the subject of Africa.’

  ‘We are?’ queried Mina, since this was a new and unexpected departure in Scarletti family entertainment. She was seized by a sudden fear that her wayward brother Richard was undertaking another of his wild and inevitably doomed moneymaking schemes and was about to pass himself off as an expert on the dark continent or even disguise himself as a native of that far away land, and planned to deliver a public address based on legend, newspapers and his own imagination. The potential for embarrassment was alarming. Only a few months ago he had taken to the stage of Brighton’s New Oxford Theatre of Varieties in a spangled cloak, false moustache and black velvet mask, employing the worst Italian accent in the world, as the mysterious Signor Ricardo, presenting the supposed spirit medium Miss Foxton, who in actual fact was his then mistress, Nellie Gilden, a former conjuror’s assistant.

  Mina eased herself into a comfortable seat. This was going to be a more complicated conversation than most. ‘Why this sudden interest in Africa?’

  Louisa gave a little snort of a laugh. ‘Oh I have no interest in it at all, only I am instructed to go by Enid. Of course my wishes have not been consulted, but she is very insistent about it.’

  ‘When is the lecture to take place?’

  ‘On Monday evening at the Town Hall. Enid saw the announcement in the newspaper and became very excited by it. She said that the subject exerts a powerful hold over her. I believe she may have attended a similar lecture in London, where it obviously affected her brain. Of course if it is of interest to society there may be a good company there, which would be some diversion at least. Mina, you must go with us, in case Enid becomes distracted. I only hope there will be no horrid pictures on display.’

  Mina knew very little about Africa except that from time to time explorers went there looking for the source of the Nile, and many of them failed to return. In recent months the newspapers had been expressing grave anxiety over the fate of a Dr Livingstone who had not been heard of for some time, and no one knew if he was alive or dead. Mina wondered what the source of a river looked like, and supposing one were to discover it, what would one do with it. The subject was certainly a matter for curiosity and she was quite sure it would provide her with a rich vein of ideas for her stories.

  ‘I really cannot imagine what Enid sees in Africa,’ Louisa continued. ‘She has never shown any interest in it before. Why would anyone want to visit such a place? No one of any importance lives there. So hot and uncomfortable, and I have heard that dangerous wild animals are simply allowed to roam about as they please.’

  Mina picked up the newspaper, which was advertising a lecture by Mr Arthur Wallace Hope, veteran of the Crimea and noted explorer, who would be talking about his expeditions to Africa. The name had a familiar ring to it, and since Richard was far too young to pass himself off as having fought in the Crimea, it was some relief to Mina to see that this was not, after all, another of his schemes. Tickets were three shillings apiece, family tickets to admit three persons were eight shillings, and they could be purchased at Mr Smith’s bookseller’s shop on North Street, where copies of Mr Hope’s recent volume African Quest would be on sale. All receipts from the lecture were to go to a special fund for the cost of mounting an expedition to find Dr Livingstone. ‘It is for a
good cause,’ she said.

  ‘I am not so sure of that,’ said Louisa tartly. ‘In fact it would have been far better for everyone if Dr Livingstone had stayed at home. First there is the cost of sending him there on a wild goose chase, and then he gets lost and we are all supposed to pay to have him brought back. What is so complicated about finding the source of a river? If they had asked my advice I would have told them to take a boat at one end and sail down it until they reached the other. But no one ever listens to me.’

  Mina thought that if the answer was as simple as her mother supposed then the source of the Nile would have been found some while ago, but she knew better than to argue. ‘Perhaps you could suggest that to Mr Hope on Monday? Or would you prefer not to attend?’

  ‘Oh we must, or Enid will give me a headache with her complaints. She is already choosing her gown and bonnet. Mina, you must go at once and purchase a family ticket with reserved seats.’

  Mina saw that her mother was not in fact averse to attending the lecture, but preferred to place the responsibility for their going on Enid’s shoulders so she would have someone to blame if it proved to be dull or unsuitable. The idea that she or Enid should be the ones to procure the tickets seemed not to enter Louisa’s head, and it was a task which she would never have entrusted to Rose. Mina said nothing. The autumnal weather was charming; the sky bright and clear, the breezes not too harsh, and the destination of a bookshop was always a pleasure. She would walk.