The Speedicut Papers Book 6 (1879–1884): Vitai Lampada

By Christopher Joll

Book 6 of The Speedicut Papers covers the period 1879-1885 during which time Speedicut is reluctantly involved in a series of British colonial and Imperial disasters in Afghanistan, South Africa, Egypt and the Sudan. Whist not ducking shot, shell and spears, Speedicut indulges deeply in such pleasures (usually of the carnal variety) that are on offer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Apr 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546291206

Christopher Joll

After serving time at Oxford University and the RMA Sandhurst, Christopher Joll spent his formative years as an officer in The Life Guards. On leaving the Army, Joll worked first in investment banking, then as an arms salesman before moving into public relations. From his earliest days Joll has written articles, features, short stories and reportage. In addition to the Speedicut books, in 2014, Joll wrote the text for Uniquely British: A Year in the Life of the Household Cavalry, in late 2018 he published The Drum Horse in the Fountain & Other Tales of the Heroes & Rogue in the Guards and in early 2020 he will publish Spoils of War: The Treasures, Trophies & Trivia of the British Empire. Since leaving the Army in 1975, Joll has also been involved in devising and managing major charity fund-raising events including the Household Cavalry Pageant, the Royal Hospital Chelsea Pageant, the acclaimed British Military Tournament, a military tattoo in Hyde Park for the Diamond Jubilee, the Gurkha 200 Pageant, the Waterloo 200 Commemoration at St Paul’s Cathedral, the Shakespeare 400 Gala Concert and The Great War Symphony at the Royal Albert Hall for which he wrote, researched and directed the 60-minute film that accompanied the symphony. In 2019, this led to a commission to write, present and direct five short films for the Museum Prize Trust. When not writing, directing or lifting the lid on the cess pits of British history, Joll publishes a weekly Speedicut podcast and gives lectures at literary festivals, museums, clubs and on cruise ships on topics related to his books and the British Empire. www.christopherjoll.com

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© 2018 Christopher Joll. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/29/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9121-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9122-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-9120-6 (e)

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Notes On The Editor

Introduction

Principal Characters In Order Of Appearance

Synopsis Of Book 5 (Suffering Bertie)

Chapter One: Ripping Yarns

Chapter Two: Chez Khazi

Chapter Three: Dulce Et Decorum Est…

Chapter Four: Retribution & Reward

Chapter Five: The Inscrutable Smile Of The Sphynx

Chapter Six: Playing The Game

Chapter Seven: Ora Pro Nobis

Chapter Eight: Death In The Afternoon

Chapter Nine: Bobbing Along

Chapter Ten: Saving The Colours

Chapter Eleven: Remember Majuba

Chapter Twelve: Britannia Rules?

Chapter Thirteen: Times Past & Present

Chapter Fourteen: Isis & Osiris

Chapter Fifteen: In Sinbad’s Footsteps

Chapter Sixteen: All Washed Up

Chapter Seventeen: Zorba The Greek

Chapter Eighteen: The Ocean Swell

Chapter Nineteen: A Minaret With A View

Chapter Twenty: The White House

Chapter Twenty-One: Double Cross

Chapter Twenty-Two: Tins In The Moonlight

Chapter Twenty-Three: Pyramids & Thrones

Chapter Twenty-Four: Coming Out

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Mahdi

Chapter Twenty-Six: A Deal Of Dervishes

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Fanatical Fuzzy-Wuzzies

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Last Man In

Appendix A: Dictionary Of British Biographies

For

NM

Speedicut’s second fan

NOTES ON THE EDITOR

After serving time at Oxford University and the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst, Christopher Joll spent his formative years as an officer in The Life Guards, an experience from which he has never really recovered.

On leaving the Army, Joll worked first in investment banking, but the boredom of City life led him to switch careers and become an arms salesman. After ten years of dealing with tin pot dictators in faraway countries, he moved - perhaps appropriately - into public relations where, in this new incarnation, he had to deal with dictators of an altogether different type.

From his earliest days, Joll has written articles, features, short stories and reportage. One such piece of writing led to an early brush with notoriety when an article he had penned anonymously in 1974 for a political journal ended up as front page national news and resulted in a Ministerial inquiry. In 2012 Joll wrote the text for Uniquely British: A Year in the Life of the Household Cavalry, an illustrated account of the Household Cavalry from the Royal Wedding to the Diamond Jubilee, and in 2017 he published The Spoils of War. His yet to be published memoires, Anecdotal Evidence, promises to cause considerable consternation in certain quarters should it ever appear in print.

Since leaving the Army in 1975, Joll has been involved in devising and managing charity fund-raising events. This interest started in 1977 with The Silver Jubilee Royal Gifts Exhibition at St James’s Palace and The Royal Cartoons Exhibition at the Press Club. In subsequent years, he co-produced ‘José Carreras & Friends’, a one-night Royal Gala Concert at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane; ‘Serenade for a Princess’, a Royal Gala Concert at the Banqueting House, Whitehall; and ‘Concert for a Prince’, a Royal Gala Concert staged at Windsor Castle (the first such event to be held there following the post-fire restoration).

More recently, Joll has focused on devising, writing, directing and sometimes producing events primarily for military charities. These include in various different roles the Household Cavalry Pageant (2007); the Chelsea Pageant (2008); the Diamond Jubilee Parade in the Park (2012); the British Military Tournament (2010-2013); the Gurkha Bicentenary Pageant (2015); the Waterloo Bicentenary National Service of Commemoration & Parade at St Paul’s Cathedral (2015); the Shakespeare 400 Memorial Concert (2016); The Patron’s Luncheon (2016), the official London event to mark The Queen’s 90th Birthday and The Great War Symphony to be premiered in 2018 at the Royal Albert Hall.

INTRODUCTION

With the first publication of The Speedicut Papers in 2013, the reading public was shocked to learn that Brigadier General Sir Harry Flashman VC, one of the greatest heroes of the Victorian age, was nothing more than a Paris-based remittance man and a plagiarising fraud. Almost as shocking was the revelation that, for more than 250 years, there has been a secret organisation at the heart of the British Establishment, called The Brotherhood of the Sons of Thunder, which was ruthlessly interfering in the nation’s affairs.

These facts were revealed in a cache of letters written over a lifetime by Colonel Sir Jasper Speedicut to his friend Harry Flashman, which I discovered in 2010 in the basement of the New Walk Museum in Leicester. Taken together, the letters are a comprehensive record of the life and times of Speedicut: soldier, courtier, bi-sexual and reluctant hero.

In this, the sixth volume of The Speedicut Papers, the public will once again learn of further previously hidden truths that cast a new light on real historical incidents, set against the major events of the 19th and early 20th centuries.

Although the first seven volumes of The Speedicut Papers were originally published in letter format, in response to popular demand I have re-edited the books into a narrative text. As with the previously published work, in the interests of clarity I have annotated the text with dates and historical or explanatory background material.

CHRISTOPHER JOLL

www.jasperspeedicut.com

Vitai Lampada

There’s a breathless hush in the Close to-night

Ten to make and the match to win

A bumping pitch and a blinding light,

An hour to play and the last man in.

And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat,

Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame,

But his Captain’s hand on his shoulder smote

‘Play up! Play up! And play the game!’

The sand of the desert is sodden red,

Red with the wreck of a square that broke;

The Gatling’s jammed and the Colonel dead,

And the Regiment blind with dust and smoke.

The river of death has brimmed his banks,

And England’s far, and Honour a name,

But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks:

‘Play up! Play up! And play the game!’

This is the word that year by year,

While in her place the School is set,

Every one of her sons must hear,

And none that hears it dare forget.

This they all with a joyful mind

Bear through life like a torch in flame,

And falling fling to the host behind

‘Play up! Play up! And play the game!’

Sir Henry Newbolt (1862-1938)

Editor’s Note: Aficionados of the 19th Century poems of Empire will be aware that ‘a square that broke’ refers to the Battle of Abu Klea in 1885, a battle that Speedicut records in Book 7. However, I have taken the view that, in its more generic context, Vitai Lampada embodies the spirit of many of Speedicut’s adventures related in the pages that follow.

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS IN

ORDER OF APPEARANCE

Any similarity to persons now dead is entirely intentional

Jasper Speedicut – an officer and a gentleman, usually known as ‘Speed’

Harry Flashman – a remittance man mostly based in Paris, who is a friend of Speedicut and his controller in ‘The Brotherhood of the Sons of Thunder’, usually known as ‘Flashy’

Frederick Searcy – Speedicut’s private secretary, formerly a riding instructor in the 2nd Life Guards

Muhamad Khazi – Speedicut’s head coachman, formerly a Kizilbashi irregular cavalryman

Lady Charlotte-Georgina Speedicut – Speedicut’s second wife, sister of the 8th Duke of Whitehall

Mrs Ovenden – the Speedicuts’ cook

Henry Crichton – the Speedicuts’ butler

Edward – a footman-cum-valet in the Speedicut household

Miss James – Lady Charlotte-Georgina Speedicut’s lady’s maid and Searcy’s wife

Prissy – a black American ex-slave, married to Khazi and employed as the Dowager Duchess of Whitehall’s lady’s maid

HM The Queen Empress – Queen Victoria

Major Sir Louis Cavagnari – an inept colonial administrator

Brigadier General Johnny Dawson – an old friend of Speedicut

Major General Sir Frederick Roberts VC – commander of the Kabul Field Force

Prince Ali – youngest brother of the Khedive Tewfik of Egypt

Orabi Pasha – an Egyptian nationalist

General Sir Augustus Faversham – head of the British Secret Service

Harry Faversham – his son

Major Evans – a secret agent

Dagmar FitzCharles, Dowager Duchess of Whitehall – imperious widow of the 7th Duke of Whitehall and mother of Lady Charlotte-Georgina Speedicut

Charles-Ethelred FitzCharles, 8th Duke of Whitehall – brother of Lady Charlotte-Georgina Speedicut and Great Boanerges of the Brotherhood of the Sons of Thunder

Jan Adendorff – guide, occasional big game hunter and part time militiaman

Major General Sir George Pomeroy-Colley – General Officer Commanding the Natal Field Force

Robert, Comte de Montesquiou-Fezensac – an effete French aristocrat

Sarah Bernhardt – a celebrated French actress

Khedive Tewfik Pasha – the Ottoman Sultan’s nominal ruler of Egypt

Lieutenant Mamsir Tawkan - a Circassian officer in the Khedive’s Guard

Zorba Mavrogenou – an aristocratic Greek outlaw

Admiral Sir Frederick Seymour – the Commander-in-Chief of the British Mediterranean Fleet

General Sir Garnet Wolseley – a highly experienced, ambitious and successful British Army officer, known to his friends as ‘Joe’

HRH The Prince of Wales – eldest son of Queen Victoria and Heir Apparent to the British Throne

HRH Prince Albert Victor of Wales – eldest son of The Prince of Wales and Heir Presumptive, known by his family as ‘Eddy’

Algy St Albion – a multi-millionaire friend of Speedicut

Prince Anatole Lieven – a Russian aristocrat

Prince Dimitri Lieven – Prince Anatole Lieven’s son

Hicks Pasha – Colonel William ‘Billy’ Hicks, a former Indian Army officer in the service of the Khedive of Egypt

Sir Evelyn Baring – the British Agent in Cairo

SYNOPSIS OF BOOK 5 (SUFFERING BERTIE)

As the subtitle implies, Book 5 of The Speedicut Papers is largely concerned with Speedicut’s unsought role as a reluctant part-time courtier to Prince Albert Edward, The Prince of Wales.

The book opens in Paris in mid-1871 in the immediate aftermath of the fall of the Paris Commune, during which Speedicut and his coachman Muhamad Khazi are separated when Speedicut inadvertently detonates a gunpowder store which destroys the Tuileries Palace. With the help of Frederick Searcy, Speedicut’s long-time butler-turned-secretary, Khazi is eventually tracked down to a burlesque show at the Divan du Maroc in Pigalle where, in a severely traumatised condition, he is ‘performing’.

On their return to London, Khazi is shocked back to normality by the discovery that his wife, the ex-slave girl Prissy, is having a baby. Meanwhile, Speedicut is informed that he has been advanced to the rank of Grand-Officer of the Legion of Honour by ex-Emperor Louis Napoleon, as a reward for his (failed) mission to rescue the Imperial family’s photograph albums from the Tuileries Palace. Louis Napoleon also promises to reveal to Speedicut the identity of the traitor in the British establishment, and the Brotherhood of the Sons of Thunder, who Speedicut already has good reason to believe is Phileas Fogg.

Expecting and hoping to be given a period of extended leave by the Commander-in-Chief, The Duke of Cambridge, Speedicut is dismayed to be appointed an Extra Equerry to The Prince of Wales following Queen Victoria’s decision to give the 10th Hussars a ceremonial role in the autumn and winter of 1871-72. Whilst Speedicut is ‘in waiting’ to the Prince at a house party in Yorkshire, HRH contracts typhoid as a result of an infected glass of water given to him by Speedicut. During the protracted illness which follows, Speedicut is a first-hand observer of, and reporter on, some quite extraordinary events in and around the royal sick room; Searcy makes a valuable contact in Fleet Street; and Khazi is commanded by Queen Victoria to teach her Hindustani, a language which he barely speaks – instead, and unbeknownst to The Queen, he teaches her Pushtu with devastating consequences.

After a brief (and largely unreported) six months in Edinburgh in mid-1872, Speedicut is tasked by his father-in-law, the Duke of Whitehall who is also head (Great Boanerges) of the Brotherhood of the Sons of Thunder, to follow Phileas Fogg around the world. This task arises from a financially disastrous wager, which the impoverished Duke and other members of the Reform Club have entered into, that Fogg and his valet can’t circumnavigate the globe in eighty days. Reluctant to comply with this task as instructed, Speedicut, his wife Lady Charlotte-Georgina and Searcy conspire to have Searcy appointed as Fogg’s manservant whilst Speedicut removes himself from London to his house near Wrexham. However, to convince the Great Boanerges that he is indeed following Fogg, Speedicut has to make a detour via Paris. En route he has a chance encounter on the Boat Train with Harriet Walters, the notorious courtesan commonly known as ‘Skittles’, and consequently prolongs his stay in Paris. This nearly ends in disaster when The Prince of Wales, one of Skittles’ ‘admirers’, almost catches the two of them in flagrante delicto.

During Fogg’s global circumnavigation, Searcy sends regular reports by telegraph to the Speedicuts, the last of which states that Fogg could win the bet unless he is stopped or delayed in New York. Along with Khazi, Speedicut makes a dash across the Atlantic, during which he meets Mme Jules Verne to whom he recounts the story of the wager. He arrives just in time, but is unable to prevent Fogg boarding a trans-Atlantic boat whose scheduled arrival in Liverpool will ensure that he wins the bet. Fortuitously, the boat is involved in a collision in the approaches to Liverpool harbour and sinks, but Fogg manages to get away on a life boat leaving Searcy, Speedicut and Khazi clinging to the wreckage. Fortunately for the Duke, and despite Fogg appearing at the Reform in time to win his wager, another member, Dr Henry Jekyll, points out that the bet has failed on a technicality as Fogg has arrived without his valet. This is disputed by Fogg and William Gladstone is asked to resolve the issue: he decides that the wager is void.

In further pursuit of his quest to expose Fogg as a traitor, Speedicut very belatedly arranges to meet with the ex-Emperor of the French at Chislehurst railway station on 9th January 1873. Whilst waiting for Louis Napoleon, who is in fact on his death bed, Speedicut meets a schoolboy called Arthur Raffles and his friend Harry ‘Bunny’ Manders. Back in London, Speedicut is instructed by the Great Boanerges to relocate for two years to southern Africa, accompanied by Lady Charlotte-Georgina, where he is to take over from Flashman the management of the Brotherhood’s direct mining interests. At the same time, he is to ‘keep an eye’ on Fogg, who has also been sent there to run the Brotherhood’s mining investment portfolio.

Although the correspondence is incomplete for this period, it becomes apparent that Fogg has been killed by a lion whilst on safari. Meanwhile, Speedicut finds himself assisting Cecil Rhodes, in whose mine pumping venture the Brotherhood has a substantial financial interest. Following an accident with the pump that Speedicut was supposed to be supervising, he and his wife return to England but not before Searcy has uncovered evidence that Fogg faked his own death and has headed for Prussia, the implication being that he is a member of the Prussian Secret Service.

In late 1874, Speedicut takes up an appointment on the Staff of the Cavalry Division at Aldershot, where he shares an office with a fellow Tenth Hussar, Lieutenant Colonel Valentine Baker; at this time, he also arranges to sell the emerald belt that he ‘acquired’ during the Indian Mutiny so that he can invest in Rhodes’ business. In the meantime, Lady Charlotte-Georgina, who has become very friendly with The Princess of Wales, arranges for Speedicut to join the Prince’s personal staff for his upcoming Tour of India. Speedicut is not at all happy at this development.

Prior to his departure for India, Speedicut is a witness to Valentine Baker’s downfall on a false charge of indecent assault. Although Speedicut has crucial evidence that would have enabled Baker to be found innocent, Baker refuses to use it. From October 1875 – May 1876, Speedicut is on the Prince’s overseas visit to India which, en route, includes incidents in Paris with the notorious courtesan, La Païva, and with the youngest son of the Khedive in Egypt. The Tour of India itself is packed with adventures, including Speedicut’s near death when he tries to defend The Prince of Wales from what he believes is a murderous attack by the elderly Maharaja of Benares. Towards the end of the Tour, Speedicut is embroiled in the Aylesford Affair and the Prince’s proposed duel with Lord Charles Beresford.

Once again back in London, Speedicut finds that his brother-in-law, the Marquess of Pellmell, is an investor in a fraudulent railway investment scheme run by August Melmotte. Not only is Speedicut obliged by his wife to intervene in this scam to save the Marquess’s fortune but she also asks him to try and curtail the lethal doctor-patient relationship that has developed between her father, the Duke of Whitehall, and Dr Jekyll. Unfortunately, before Speedicut can intervene effectively Dr Jekyll’s alter ego, Mr Hyde, kills the Duke who is succeeded as Great Boanerges by Pellmell. Speedicut relates this curious incident to a young member of the Verulam Club, Robert Louis Stevenson. Fortunately, thanks to Searcy, Speedicut is able to extract his brother-in-law from the railway scheme before exposing it as a fraud. Searcy uncovers the fact that the fraud has been planned as a means of destabilising the British government by the Prussian Secret Service and was executed by Phileas Fogg, in disguise as Melmotte’s clerk, Krohl.

There is again a further gap in the correspondence which recommences at the end of 1877. The Speedicuts have decided to take a winter holiday in the Cape and have rented a substantial house outside Cape Town, where they meet Arthur Raffles, who has recently left university. The unexpected arrival of the Prince Imperial, whom Speedicut helped to escape from France in 1870 and who is now off to the Zulu War as a Lieutenant in the Royal Artillery, results in the abrupt termination of Speedicut’s holiday and his appointment as the Prince Imperial’s Equerry. This in turn results in his involvement in the battles of Isandlwana and Rorke’s Drift, his capture by the Zulus, his escape from Ulundi which is effected by Searcy and Khazi, and his presence at the death of the Prince Imperial.

The last letter is written in June 1879 as the Speedicuts are about to embark for England. On their last night in the Cape, Searcy successfully foils the theft by Raffles of Lady Charlotte-Georgina’s priceless pearl necklace. Book 5 ends with the information that Speedicut is carrying with him a dispatch, from the High Commissioner in the Cape to Prime Minister Disraeli, concerning the responsibility for the death of the Prince Imperial…

CHAPTER ONE: RIPPING YARNS

Unlike previous grands retours to my house in Curzon Street, this time I returned from the Cape [in June 1879] empty handed – unless, that is, one counts a sackful of assegais to decorate my study, the Corsican Corporal’s sabre and Frere’s dispatch case.

On the subject of the latter piece of luggage, my long-standing readers will doubtless recall that Sir Henry Bartle Frere,¹ Her Majesty’s High Commissioner at the Cape, had entrusted to my safe keeping a locked container in which was a report that he had graciously requested I hand deliver to Dizzy on my return.² Fortunately, on our last night at Vergelegen, young Master Raffles had decided to steal my wife, Charlotte-Georgina’s, pearl necklace – the one that I’d been given by the Yi Concubine for ‘services rendered’ (although C-G didn’t know that) during the Chinese fracas back in ’60.³

Anyway, Raffles’ attempted theft of this Speedicut ‘heirloom’, which was so neatly foiled by my secretary, Frederick Searcy, did me a big favour as – for some unknown reason – he’d also broken open Frere’s red leather haversack. At the time, I didn’t have a chance to do anything more than glance at its contents before we had to hurry off to the port. Then, what with settling-in to the ship’s routine and one thing and another, I hadn’t given it another thought until we got back to Curzon Street towards the end of June.

Oh, Colonel, you must be so pleased! said our cook, Mrs Ovenden, as we stepped over our threshold.

I was, but it wasn’t what she meant, for it soon emerged that, whilst we were braving the briny, Chelmsford (doubtless fearful that Wolseley would steal his glory)⁴ had finally pulled out his finger and marched on Ulundi. A couple of days before we’d landed he’d announced (I suspect with some relief) that the war was over.⁵ Old Cetshwayo didn’t agree,⁶ but he was on the run. On hearing this news, Charlotte-Georgina insisted on immediately throwing a belated celebratory dinner for the ‘glorious victory’, drove Mrs Ovenden practically into a breakdown with her demands for authentic Zulu cuisine and insisted on getting the florists to construct some quite hideous table decorations out of the assegais. I thought my old Lancer pal, Johnny Dawson, would die laughing when he saw them.

What with all this going on, paying a visit to Downing Street wasn’t exactly high on my agenda, but Searcy thought that I ought perhaps to see Frere’s dispatch safely delivered. So, a couple of days after we’d unpacked and the dinner was thankfully behind us, I arranged for Searcy to send word to Dizzy. I was invited by return to call that afternoon.

And that’s about it, Colonel, said Searcy as he handed me the last of the business papers we’d been trawling through. I’ve got Sir Henry’s dispatch case out of the safe ready for you to take with you after luncheon. I thought you might like to look at its contents…

Have you?

No, Colonel, he said with a smile, as he handed me the leather satchel.

Thanks to Raffles, the lock was no longer operative so I opened the case and took out the folded document I’d last seen in the Cape. As before, it read:

Confidential Report for the Prime Minister concerning the death of HIH The Prince Imperial and the involvement of Brevet Colonel...

Well, I assumed that the hapless Sapper, Harrison,⁷ had been hung out to dry and I was about to put the folded document back in the case when something made me turn it over to read the rest of the title:

…Speedicut.

What! A ball of ice started to form in the pit of my stomach. It couldn’t possibly be true; dammit, my Afghan coachman, Muhamad Khazi and I were the ones who’d ridden to LouLou’s rescue. It wasn’t my fault that we were too late – or that the dratted Carey had simply looked on as the Zulus filleted the poor boy.⁸ I couldn’t bring myself to read any more so, in silence, I handed the document over to Searcy.

Read it, I said. He unfolded the report and did so. Well?

It seems, Colonel, as though Lord Chelmsford has heaped all the blame onto you.

How?

Simple, Colonel. He scanned the document again. As his Equerry, you were responsible for the Prince Imperial’s safety… you neglected to ensure that he did not go out on patrol… you were tardy is pursuing him… you only intervened once the Zulus had killed him… and so on.

It’s a hatchet job cooked up by Chelmsford and Harrison. What the bloody hell am I to do? Disraeli will undoubtedly show it to The Queen and, when he does, I might as well retire to Wrexham or, more likely, Buenos Aires. Searcy adopted his ‘there’s bound to be a solution’ look.

I think not, Colonel. He thought some more. "Here’s what I suggest we do… I will take the dispatch case now to a local craftsman I know: he’s called Smythson and he specialises in leather goods and luggage.⁹ He’s also discreet, providing I can cross his palm…"

I reached into my pocket and handed Searcy half a dozen sovs.

That will certainly ensure his silence, Colonel and, unless I’m much mistaken, he’ll be able to get the lock fixed in time for you to deliver the case to No 10 this afternoon.

What the hell good will that do me?

When the Prime Minister uses his diplomatic key to open the case – it will be empty.

Alright. But then he’ll signal Frere, tell him that he forgot to enclose the document and ask for a copy.

"Long before a replacement arrives, Colonel, my friend Mr Blount on the Daily Telegraph will have published the correct story."

"That would certainly deal with the public, as no Conservative – not even Dizzy – is goin’ to deny a story in the Torygraph. But what about The Queen? It won’t matter what’s in the rags, she’ll believe Chelmsford and I’ll have to start packin’."

"I’ve thought about that too, Colonel. Whilst I’m with Mr Smythson, you write a letter, to be hand delivered today to Her Majesty’s Private Secretary, in which you say you are in possession of the Emperor Napoleon’s Austerlitz sword which you found by the body of the Prince Imperial and that you would like to give it to Her Majesty so that she can return it to the ex-Empress.

The Queen is very friendly with Her Imperial Majesty who is, I believe, presently staying at Osborne.

Searcy, you are a genius. Vicky’s bound to summon me and demand to hear the whole pathetic story. I’ll lay it on with a trowel and if she’s not in floods by the time I’ve finished then I’ll… Anyway, once she’s heard it from me, she’ll refuse to hear anythin’ different from Dizzy or anyone else for that matter. I can also present her with some of those dratted assegais; they’ll look a damned sight better on one of her walls than on our dinin’ room table.

And that’s what we did: Smythson fixed the lock perfectly, Searcy consigned Frere’s report to the flames of the kitchen range and I delivered the empty case to No 10. Somewhat to my surprise I was asked to wait. I’d been kicking my heels in the entrance hall for a couple of minutes when Dizzy himself appeared with one damp hand outstretched, whilst the other curled his ugly little beard. Balding, with a strange single lock of hair hanging over his forehead, he looked the very image of a pawnbroker-cum-cheap-novelist.

"My dear Colonel Speedicut, how very thoughtful of you to have brought me Sir Henry’s dispatch, he said, as I handed him the empty case. You will stay for a cup of tea? I do so hope so."

Before I could answer, he turned on his heel and wafted back across the hall in the direction of what turned out to be his study. I had no choice but to follow.

"Now take a seat and tell me all about King Cetshwayo, with whom we will have to negotiate if he can ever be found."

So, I told him what I knew.

Most interesting – and you say that he is really quite civilised and speaks excellent English?

I said that was correct.

"Fascinating – and so unlike our own dear Royal Family. We must invite him to London where I’m sure he will be a sensation."

You can say that again, I thought: the sight of King C promenading up Piccadilly in nothing but his lion tail kilt would achieve more than a sensation, it would cause a riot.

"Well, Colonel, it’s been delightful talking to you."

He rose, rang a bell on the wall and I knew that the interview was over.

"I shall write a note to Cambridge telling him how much you have contributed to our success in the Cape – and I’ll tell him to find you a job where your undoubted skills can be used to the best advantage of your country,"¹⁰ he purred, as he showed me to the door of his study where a secretary was lurking.

Perhaps you could use your experience of the country to assist Cavagnari…¹¹ he said, half to himself. Yes, in light of Chamberlain’s report that’s an excellent idea.¹²

But before I could ask him what he was talking about, I was back in the hall and headed for my carriage. Oh, well, I thought, there’ll be plenty of time to find out about Cavagnari, who sounded like an Eytie. Perhaps Dizzy wanted me to spend some time in Rome; that would certainly be no hardship.

Meanwhile, my footman-cum-valet, Edward, had delivered my letter to the palace. I didn’t have to wait long for a reply to that either. The following day Charlotte-Georgina and I were ‘Commanded to attend upon Her Majesty at your earliest convenience’ at that appalling wedding cake of a building, Osborne House, on the inaccessible and windswept Isle of Wight. Only Vicky could have built a hideous holiday villa on ultima Thule.

Needless to say, C-G was thrilled at the Command and went into a frenzy of preparations for the overnight visit which was scheduled for two days later. As my Brevet rank had lapsed when I left the seat of war, I was saved the bother of having to acquire a Staff tunic – even if there’d been time – and, instead, I had the moth brushed out of my Shiner’s Levée Dress.

"You are not to take any of those ridiculous foreign Orders with you, Jasper, C-G said threateningly, as I supervised Edward’s packing of my kit, just your campaign medals. The absence of any proper Orders will remind Her Majesty that you have been overlooked…"

But Eugénie is goin’ to be there, I said, fondling the Prussian Black Eagle badge, I should at least take the Legion of Honour; it would be both impolite and incorrect not to wear that.

Very well, I’ll concede the Legion – but the others must stay in your drawer here.

Thanks to the improved rail service since I’d last made the tedious journey from London to the Isle of Wight, we arrived at Osborne in the late afternoon on the 11th [July]. The wasted hours on the train were considerably improved for me by a lengthy article on the front page of the Daily Telegraph, written under Searcy’s direction by his friend Mr Blount in the guise of ‘a Member of Our Foreign Staff’, which described in graphic detail the true story of my abortive dash to the rescue of poor LouLou. So that was Phase Two of Searcy’s plan successfully completed. It only remained for me to convince The Queen.

At Osborne, so we were told on arrival by Ponsonby,¹³ who was the very image of a languid courtier with his neat beard and well-cut coat, Vicky dined early. Not being entirely sure of the correct etiquette when it came to the presentation of gifts to the sovereign – it was, after all, a very long time since I’d dumped Sam Colt’s pistol in The Queen’s lap – I took the opportunity to consult him on the subject.¹⁴

Bring them with you to dinner, he’d said, as he showed us into a pleasant suite of rooms overlooking the garden. Her Majesty knows that you are going to be presenting them and she will let you know when the moment is opportune. If you could be ready in an hour?

Even with the assistance of Edward and Miss James, that was barely enough time for us to change before a footman escorted C-G and me from our quarters to the Drawing Room. By the time we got there, I was sweating slightly from the heat, the weight under my arm of a brace of assegais wrapped in a leopard-skin and Boney’s curved toothpick in its cotton bag – to say nothing of the inconvenience of having to carry my own sword and busby as well.

The most prominent feature of the Drawing Room was a great bow window in which each casement was draped in an eye-watering shade of canary yellow silk; the same material had also been used to upholster the giltwood furniture. In the summer’s early evening sun, it was like being thrust into a bowl of cheap custard. According to the Lady-in-Waiting on duty, who – most appropriately given my mission – was the late Iron Duke’s daughter-in-law,¹⁵ the Drawing Room was used when The Queen greeted visiting royalty; it was in service that evening because the ex-Empress was in residence.

Although, went on the Duchess (a rather masculine woman cut from the same cloth as the Sapphic contralto, Mabel Batten, I suspected), due to Her Imperial Majesty being in deep mourning for her son she will not be joining us.

Whilst a footman held the spoils of war, I shed my busby and the Duchess continued our instruction.

"It will be a small party: Her Majesty, of course, Prince Leopold and Princess Beatrice,¹⁶ yourselves and the Household-in-Waiting, which tonight is me and Sir Henry."

That was a considerable relief, I thought as I recovered the leopard-skin bundle from the footman, for I had not been looking forward to meeting Eugénie,¹⁷ even though I’d managed her flight from the Tuileries in ’70.¹⁸

Before the conversation could go any further, the double-doors at the end of the room were flung open and our podgy Queen Empress tottered in on the arms of the ghastly John Brown and a cross-eyed Indian of unsavoury mien, clad in a fancy livery.¹⁹ The ill-matched duo deposited her in front of us and then retired. Meanwhile, the two members of her family and Ponsonby entered the room behind The Queen and hovered dutifully in the background whilst the Duchess presented us.

Ah, Colonel Speedicut, said Vicky in near perfect Hindustani as I gave her the requisite bow and C-G nearly disappeared through the Axminster in a deep curtsey, "how nice to see you again and how is the dear munshi?"

Munshi? Who the hell did she mean?