Saturday July 16 1881 – The Wimbledon Rifle Matches (continued)
Inspector Peaslin and the constable went to check the police reports for any mention of a missing cigarette case. Meanwhile, Madame Vastra decided that she and Jenny would stay with the Green Jackets as they went through their duties for the day.
"Mr Taylor and I are both judges for the Queen's Prize," Colonel Lethbridge explained as they started walking. "That's shot in three stages, with only the top shots going through to the next stage. We started several days ago with over a thousand competitors. They shoot two sighter rounds and seven rounds that count at three hundred, five hundred and six hundred yards. The top three hundred score qualify for the Second stage where they shoot two sighters and ten rounds to count. From these three hundred, only one hundred make the final stage. That will be shot today."
"So then what happens?" asked Jenny.
"In the final stage," said the Colonel, "the shooters scores from the second stage are added to the scores they make shooting two sighters and fifteen to count at each of nine hundred and one thousand yards."
"The Queen's Prize is the highlight of the week," explained Parker. "It's the most popular day with spectators."
"Parker here is shooting today; he made the top one hundred! He's our club's best shot!" said Taylor.
"That's great, Mr Parker!" Jenny grinned.
"After the winner is presented with the Gold badge, he'll be chaired off by fellow team mates to the tune of 'See the Conquering Hero comes' following a military band and the range officials," continued Taylor. "That's always great fun, make sure you see that!"
"'Chaired off?'" asked Madame Vastra.
"The winner sits on a chair with poles, and is carried from the field by members of his club, or regiment."
Madame Vastra nodded, but then frowned to herself. Hopefully the humans didn't eat the winner afterwards to gain his powers, although she would not wager against it. The Apes had some very strange customs.
The Colonel led them first to an old windmill which served as the head-quarters of the National Rifle Association matches. Vastra and Jenny waited while Lethbridge and Taylor received their assignments and instructions for the day.
Jenny soon noticed that on this final day of the matches there were an awful lot of Quality about, wearing what she guessed were the latest fashions. There were lots of well-dressed ladies, who spent most of their time talking about the various fellows who were taking part. Jenny frowned; now that she thought about it she hadn't seen any women shooting in the matches. Just men.
Once the Green Jackets were sorted out, the group rode out to the range in a carriage with some of the officials. The Colonel introduced Madame Vastra to several of them; Vastra in turn hoped that Jenny was paying attention as Vastra herself had difficulty distinguishing one hairy face from another.
Vastra and Jenny spent the morning watching the matches and the crowd. They had no luck spotting the men they were looking for. Jenny did see a soldier wearing a similar cap and collar to one of them. Madame Vastra asked the soldier about it, and he readily identified himself as a lieutenant with the Royal Sussex Regiment.
"Sussex…that means you're in an English regiment, correct? But your collar is blue…?"
"We're a 'Royal' regiment, ma'am. So we have blue facings."
The officer politely answered Madame Vastra's questions, but then begged off to go speak with one of his fellow soldiers. As he left, Vastra surveyed the crowd around them again. "I haven't seen the Inspector about," she said. "Have you seen him and I'm simply not recognizing him?"
"No Ma'am," replied Jenny. "Haven't seen him since this morning."
Vastra shook her head; hopefully the Ape was following up on a clue, although she had no confidence that he'd even be aware of one if it fell at his feet.
Eventually they learned what had happened to Inspector Peaslin. When Colonel Lethbridge went for a rest break from watching the range, he found Peaslin sitting in the 'Club Tent' for the officers in the early afternoon, and chased him out. Listening to the Colonel tell the story, Madame was not impressed; the foolish Ape Peaslin sounded more interested in the cigar he'd been smoking than in actually investigating Colonel Lethbridge's' concerns.
As a concession to the Colonel, who was less then pleased with his attitude and made a point of telling him so, Inspector Peaslin finally spoke with Parker. Although the cabbie told him everything he'd heard, it didn't seem like much to go on, and Parker suggested to Peaslin that Madame Vastra's maid might have more information
Unfortunately, Inspector Peaslin never bothered to interview either Madame Vastra or Jenny.
Later Taylor found Madame Vastra and Jenny sipping lemonades in the shade on a large tent. "I have a message from the Colonel," he said. "He thinks that your best chance to spot the men again, either by sight or sound, will be at the final round or two of The Queen's Prize. Everyone will be there. Try to concentrate on the Irish Regiments as well; he still thinks that the bombers might be trying to recruit men from those regiments."
Colonel Lethbridge's assessment proved to be accurate. Despite the heat, the spectator stands behind the firing line were crowded beyond belief. Most of the spectators were men but there were plenty of women and children watching as well. They even saw the other Green Jacket from the Royal Tournament, Captain Simundson in the distance. Vastra and Jenny watched carefully and followed and listened to anyone wearing the green facings of the Irish regiments. There didn't seem to be very many of them. Vastra decided that they should be look for men wearing blue collars as well. They had no luck finding their quarry though. The crowd made it difficult to move very far or very fast. Everyone was straining to see the participants and the posted scores. Here and there policemen were watching the crowd, but Vastra suspected they were looking for thieves and fights instead of watching for bombs.
During another rest period, the group retired to a nearby tent to discuss their lack of progress. Madame Vastra said, "Colonel, as well what we heard through the tent walls, I found this." Vastra showed Lethbridge the cigarette stub she'd picked up and stored the day before. "It was the cause of the fire yesterday. One of the men most likely dropped it when they retreated. I had planned on giving it to Inspector Peaslin, but he seems disinterested, and I am not sure it would be wise. It could be valuable evidence."
"Keep it," said Lethbridge. "I don't know how it can be of much use, but you're right; Peaslin will probably either throw it away or ignore it." The Colonel shook his head in disgust. "Lazy fool! He doesn't seem to have made any progress, or indeed made much effort."
"I've known Sergeant Parker here for almost a dozen years through the club," continued the Colonel, "and he's an honest, steady man. If he says he heard something that should be investigated, then it should be investigated. And if Peaslin won't do it or can't do it, then perhaps it's time to have someone else look into the matter. Especially if she already has evidence, and has ready access to the witnesses."
"If the situation wasn't so grim, I'm certain that you'd be a better choice to follow up. However, no doubt you have better things to do with your time than poke about following up on longshots and rumours. A pity, but there it is."
Madame Vastra regarded him for a long moment, and then nodded. "We will continue to observe the crowd, Colonel. The threat against the matches today was unplanned; we may be fortunate in that regard. I am, however, concerned that if we cannot locate the men, they will leave and will only be seen again when their destructive plot is ready. At that point it may be too late."
A shadow fell on them suddenly, and they looked up to see a workman standing just inside entrance to the tent, blocking the light, his face in shadow.
"Yes, what is it?" Colonel Lethbridge asked sharply.
The workman tugged at his cap, muttering "Need some tools, sir," almost too quietly to catch, pointing at a far corner of the tent.
The colonel waved him in. "Be quick about it."
Vastra watched the newcomer from the corner of her eye, but he seemed more interested in gathering some rope, a hammer and several stakes than in their presence in the tent.
"What about that man you were telling us about, the one from the Royal Sussex Regiment?" Taylor asked Jenny.
"He has wearing the same kind of plain but fancy hat," said Jenny, "Round with a flat top and a badge in front. Sort of a small eye shade thing." She sketched a small semicircle with her hand.
"A visor?" Asked Taylor.
Jenny shrugged.
"Sounds like an officer's forage cap to me," said Parker. Taylor nodded in agreement.
Colonel Lethbridge shook his head. "The man Madame Vastra spoke to today said he was a lieutenant." Jenny nodded. "An officer wouldn't be involved in something like this. It would be completely unthinkable!"
"Just had a quick glimpse of the man yesterday, sir." Jenny shook her head. "Could be mistooked; it all happened pretty quick, and I was trying to get a look at all three of 'em."
"It's all right, we'll all just have to keep a sharp watch. Let's get back to it," said the Colonel.
All but ignored, no one noticed when the workman slipped back out of the tent.
Taylor found them seats, not too far up in the stands, in a section with ribbons around it. He waved them into a set of three seats, told them the Colonel had arranged for them to have a good view of the final round and asked them to save the third seat for Parker. Vastra saw that some of the officials they`d met earlier were nearby, so she surmised that this area was reserved for people connected to running the matches.
After he shot his round, Parker joined them in the stands. His score was quite high, but not the highest on the board. Still he seemed pleased with his results.
Jenny had a new mystery to solve. "What are those things some of the men are wearing?" She asked. "Looks like a hat with a handkerchief on the back?"
"They're called Havelocks, they keep the sun off the back of the neck so you don't burn out on the firing line, and that helps keep you cool."
The afternoon was hot, and the sun was strong. Jenny could see that a number of the men were showing signs of being out in the sun a lot; many of them had red skin and burnt noses. "If the men we're looking for are wearing those havelock things, it'll be harder to spot 'em, ma'am!"
"There is nothing we can do about that, except continue our surveillance to the best of out abilities," replied Madame Vastra. She tasted the air, but there was too much smoke and gunpowder, sweat and perfume mixed together to pull out any individual's scent.
Except for Jenny's. Even though her young ape was sweating a little in the heat, to Vastra she still smelled clean and… right. It was a very reassuring smell amongst all these other Apes.
As it turned out, the finals finished without any complications. The Queen's Prize of £250, and the gold medal of the National Rifle Association were won by Private Beck, of the Third Devonshire Rifles.
Late in the day, after watching the presentations of awards and a bit of the celebrations, Madame Vastra and Jenny returned to the inn. On their way, Vastra noticed that there were more plainly dressed Apes around then there were earlier, carrying tools and standing in groups listening to instructions. She asked Jenny who they were.
The girl glanced around her. "They're workmen ma'am, like the one we say earlier," explained Jenny. "Probably getting ready to take things down once most folks are gone." Jenny frowned. "At least one of the men I saw was dressed like that, wonder if he's in this lot somewhere." She peered around. "Don't see him. Awful lot of them about though. Can't see 'em all."
Beneath her veil, Vastra flicked out her tongue a little, tasting the air. But what little breeze there was worked against her, the men were downwind from her and she could not catch their scent.
Neither of them saw a workman who half-turned away, but then kept an eye on them as they left the commons, and headed out along the road to the inn.
On Sunday, there were no early morning meetings on the schedule. Instead, Madame Vastra was introduced to the joys of a "full" breakfast in their room consisting of fried eggs, bacon and sausages, and cold toast. While Jenny had eaten a bowl of porridge in the kitchen earlier that morning, Madame gave her the cold toast and some of the fried eggs as well while Vastra
enjoyed the tea, bacon, and sausages. After their experiences with going hungry neither of them liked the idea of wasting food.
Colonel Lethbridge, Parker and Taylor dropped by on their way back to London to have one last chat with Madame Vastra. They took over a small gazebo in the back garden of the inn, and drank tea, or coffee for Taylor, as they compared notes for the final time. Jenny brought her notebook, and wrote down their comments as the adults talked.
"I've been having a word with some of the officers in the Irish regiments, of course. And Parker and Taylor made the rounds of the camp last night, and listened to the men. All of us heard far more about the recent reforms than anything that would indicate any disloyalty in the army. Most of that was dealt with back in the late '60s, when the Americans were stirring up trouble." He scowled at Taylor, who simply shook his head.
"Problem is," Taylor pointed out, "There's no proof the men are Fenians. Only that at least two of them had Irish accents. I hate to say it, but there are plenty of other radicals about these days. We've had trouble in America as well; just two weeks ago President Garfield was shot. He's only barely hanging on to his life."
Vastra nodded. "And the Russian Tsar was killed back in March; these do seem to be very violent times."
Parker nodded as well, remembering the Russian markings on Madame's travelling chest. Sounded like the woman had some personal connection there.
Lethbridge muttered something about 'Barbarians and anarchists!' Despite their discussions though, the unfortunate truth was that they lacked sufficient information to do very much with.
"Shouldn't we be worried? People could be hurt even killed if things start blowing up!" asked Jenny. "What about the old lady they were talking about? Why would anyone want to harm some old grandmother anyway?"
Vastra shrugged. They were only mammals after all, but Jenny had a gentle streak that Vastra liked, and so she only said, "I'm not sure how much more we can do. The a..men will no doubt leave soon, and the camp will be gone by the end of the day."
Colonel Lethbridge nodded, "Most of the people who stayed overnight in camp or in the local accommodations will leave from the train station today. But it will still take a few days for the workmen to pack things up. Those large tents and the temporary buildings need a lot of men to handle them. The Association hires some local lads to do the work. They make decent money for a few days. Most of them also work for the London and Southwest Railway."
"Still, yesterday was our best chance to find the men again," said Parker. "Inspector Peaslin said they'll likely go back to London or one of the big cities, and fade into the slums until they're ready to strike.""
"The CID may be able to connect the men with other information that they have," said the Colonel. "I don't think there's much more that can be done here, Madame."
"I'll have my cabbies keep their ears open," added Parker. "Lots of people jabber on when they're walking or riding without thinking about the cabbie. We hear all sorts things most people would prefer we didn't know."
Madame Vastra nodded. "Inspector Abernathy mentioned that as well. That often criminals are caught simply because they make a mistake, and someone turns them in."
"Let's hope that's the case this time as well," sighed the Colonel.
Eventually Vastra agreed that they'd need to leave any further investigation to Scotland Yard and the Criminal Investigation Department. Taylor borrowed Jenny's notebook, and wrote down how to contact either Colonel Lethbridge or himself in case she remembered anything else. Mr Parker made sure that Madame Vasta had his card; in any event, he would return on the first of August to take Madame Vastra and Jenny to their new home.
They wandered out to the front of the inn, the men chatting amongst themselves and giving unnecessary but well-meant advice to Vastra. Jenny watched the passersby in the street as the adults nattered; not really paying much attention to either. But then a fancy carriage caught her eye, and she spotted what she was sure was the man in uniform in the carriage as it rumbled by.
"That's him!" Jenny hissed to Madame Vastra, not wanting to tip the man off by shouting like an idiot boy. "That's the man I saw with the fancy hat."
The men turned to look, and even though they only caught a glimpse, it was enough. Colonel Lethbridge and Parker were adamant that couldn't be the man; that was an officer! Private Taylor disagreed, and said it wouldn't hurt to follow him as they were all packed up in Parker's carriage and ready to go anyway. The men quickly piled into the carriage and took off; Taylor shouting out a promise to let Vastra and Jenny know what happened.
Later that day Jenny found Eileen, the senior of the two maids, in the kitchen. As they gathered their cleaning things, Eileen said "You could have knocked me over with a blade of grass when I saw your cabbie and his friend chatting with Madame Vastra and that officer! The toffs speaking with people like us. It's a rare sight. Officers actually speaking with an enlisted men, with a sergeant around? My dad was in the army; he always said it just isn't done!"
Jenny grinned, "Well the Colonel thinks pretty well of Mister Parker. Maybe 'cause he owns his own business. And Mr Taylor don't seem to stand on ceremony very much. Wonder if that's an American thing, or if that's just him?"
Eileen looked thoughtful. "We've had a few Americans stay at the inn; not many mind you, but a few. They all seem to be very casual. The men like to shake hands a lot; it's very funny to watch them do it with some of the older gents in town. The gents always carry on like their arms going to fall off!"
"Enough nattering though. Tell me more about what you need to learn."
"Almost everything. Ma taught me a fair bit of the basics so I could help out around the flat with the young ones. But Madame Vastra's moving to a big house, so I need to know more."
"Smart. Mistresses can be awfully picky; they can change their minds on a whim, and you're either doing everything over again or you're out on the street."
Jenny nodded. She wanted to learn more about being in service for another reason. Madame Vastra might get tired of having her as a student and decide to send her away. It wasn't much, but if she knew more about being a proper maid she'd be a little less dependent on Madame and able to get a real job if she needed to.
Jenny would never admit it, but she'd learned not to trust adults too much. They seemed to be able to turn on you or let you down far too easily. She knew she shouldn't blame her Ma for dying with the baby, but it still hurt. And what her Da did… No, no more blindly trusting adults to keep her safe.
Eileen startled her from her grim thoughts; "What sort of things have you done so far?"
"Some mending, mostly sewing up tears and buttons and that sort," said Jenny readily.
"Can you darn socks?"
Jenny shook her head. "Never got the hang of it, and Ma liked to do it. Said it was restful for her. Can do the laundry though. Know how to use a flatiron without scorching things. And how to hang things on the line so they don't blow off."
The cook looked up from the stove. "Can you cook at all?" She asked.
"A little. Madame likes bacon and eggs, and pigeon stew. I can boil vegetables too, though she doesn't like those as much. And I do the washing up afterwards."
"Need to get your household a proper cook who can teach you. Or a decent cookbook. Can you read?"
Jenny nodded. "Can write too. Well, print really. And I'm good at sums. I keep Madame's account book!"
"Do you now?" the woman looked impressed.
The staff told Jenny a bit about their lives in service. The servants at the inn where lucky, most had a room, even if it was shared with another maid. In some houses, the servant slept in the kitchen or in cupboards under the stairs or in attics. Jenny nodded, and said that Madame Vastra had spoken strongly against that when Jenny had suggested moving out of Vastra's tiny flat.
Another maid, Molly, told her that in one household she'd worked in, the servants were forbidden to sing or laugh and had to remain as noiseless and invisible as possible. Jenny thought that Madame might like the quiet bit, because Jenny would hear more. It might be fun to learn how to be sneaky quiet.
In that same household, Molly said, if the servants came into contact with a member of the household, they were to keep quiet, avert their eyes and walk out of the room backwards. Jenny was fairly sure she'd have trouble with that. She wasn't sure what Madame Vastra would think about it. Maybe she'd like it. Maybe she'd think it was silly.
The maids described their work as back-breaking and hard. It included changing linen, making up beds, dusting and cleaning the bedrooms, cleaning out fireplaces, polishing grates, hauling coal up to the bedrooms and lighting fresh fires. They were glad of the summer; no fires were needed, and cleaning was easier without snow and mud. In almost all houses, if anything was broken or damaged, the servant was made to pay and the sum would be deducted from their wages.
Eileen took Jenny with her as she did her rounds. Half the inn staff had their half-day off on Sunday afternoon, with the others having their half-day on Wednesday. So there was plenty of work for the rest of them, and since Jenny was cheerful at fetching and carrying, Eileen was happy to work with her. They started at the sitting room on the ground floor. "Now then, usually the dirtiest part of the cleaning in a room should be done first," Eileen explained. "So the grate in the fireplace is the first part of the dining-room you need to look after. During the summer, when there's no fire all you need to do in the morning is dust out the grate, and sweep any dirt from the hearth that's collected there since yesterday." Jenny nodded. "Then rub the bars of the grate, if they are of bright steel like these ones are, with a dry cloth to remove any damp because that might cause them to rust, you see. If there's any kind of decoration in the new house that's used to hide the bars of the grate and the empty space behind it, then straighten it up and make it look nice. The hearth-rug should be rolled up, not folded up, and carried out into the open air for a shake." Eileen shook her head. "Too many servants who visit here have a bad habit of folding the hearth-rug across the middle and kneeling on it to clean the grate. But that makes it weak at the fold and sooner or later it will break there when being shaken. Then sweep it lightly with a carpet broom, roll it up again and bring it back indoors, so it's ready to be put in front of the hearth after the carpet's been swept and the room dusted." She grinned at Jenny. "Did you get all that?" Jenny nodded, and recited back the instructions in short form.
"Right then," said Eileen, "You take care of the fireplace, and I'll take care of the rug, and then we'll sweep and dust together."
By the end of the day, including her usual hour of exercises and bladework with Madame Vastra out in the otherwise deserted gazebo, Jenny was quite ready hang up her dress on a proper peg next to Madame's. Clad in her worn shift she crawled into the little trundle bed and was asleep in moments, much to Vastra's amusement. Vastra knew she'd need to keep an eye on the youngster, and make sure she didn't over exert herself. The young human hadn't learned yet how to pace herself properly.
On Monday morning, Jenny helped Eileen clean the room, and learned how to make the bed properly. Jenny was mystified by the bed linens; she knew about blankets, of course, but top and bottom sheets and folded corners and pillowcases were all very new to her.
Afterwards Madame Vastra and Jenny went for a walk. They wandered by the Commons, where labourers were dismantling the buildings. Taylor had mentioned this during their tour on Friday; at Wimbledon the ranges had been developed over 30 years, but the Association built temporary office and refreshment facilities here each year. While many of the competitors and staff lived under canvas during the matches, there was good access to roads and trains, and the town provided plenty of services and ample accommodation for the less hardy.
Looking over the field, Madame Vastra said, "If I remember correctly, Colonel Lethbridge seemed to think that neither you nor I would be happy staying in a tent. I don't see why we would not be. Certainly I lived in one during the warm months with the rest of the troupe of 'Jago's Monstre Gathering', These ones seem large and very comfortable. Certainly softer and less warlike than anything my people used.
"Thought it was pretty funny meself. After spending this last January living on the streets and freezing my ar.. hands and feet off in that blasted snowstorm, a few nights in a nice big tent in the middle of summer would be a right treat!"
Jenny sighed. "Mr Taylor don't say stuff like that, you noticed? No smart remarks about me being 'only a girl.' And he showed both of us how to use that gun."
"Carbine, Jenny. It's good practice to use the proper term."
"Yes ma'am. Carbine," Jenny agreed. "A Martini-Henry Cavalry Carbine, is what Mr Taylor said." She glanced up at Madame Vastra. "That's right, isn't it?"
Madame Vastra nodded and then frowned beneath her veil. She hoped that Jenny wasn't becoming attracted to the American Ape.
They passed the distant workers, not seeing one man hesitate as they went by. He watched them for a moment, and then turned back to his work, frowning as he did so. He kept an half an eye on the tall widow and her young companion as they continued on their meanderings.
Why were those two still here? Most everyone else had cleared out. Even now, the boss was in London, keeping watch on a fool of a police inspector.
The man scowled again, lifting his head and watching the pair walk down the road. It could mean nothing, or it could be a problem.
He didn't want to tip his hand, but if they stuck around, he might need to do something about them. They couldn't have any nosy females interfering in Keegan's work!
Author's Notes:
Wimbledon grew steadily throughout the 1880's and in 1885 NRA (UK) decided to relocate the Rifle Matches. The Matches were moved to Bisley in 1887, and even now are held annually there each July. There is no word as to whether Madame Vastra or other members of her household still attend the matches.
I found the name of the 1881 winner of the Rifle Matches in a digital reproduction of the Launceston Examiner from Tasmania! (archived on TROVE)
Because someone will be wondering: The King's Prize was first won by a woman in 1930. Miss M E Foster went on to become an officer in the Auxiliary Territorial Service (ATS) during the Second World War, and was still winning prizes in 1958 (the Donegall Challenge Cup,) when the Glasgow Herald reported that she had been competing for 30 years, and had been in the final hundred at Bisley several times.
The descriptions of the maids work is adapted from "The Housemaid and Her Duties and How to Perform Them" (c.1870) found on Victorian London org