The Circle of Sappho (21 page)

A wonderful turn of events this afternoon, which I find myself so excited about that my heart is beating faster even as I record the details. It was a normal lesson with Miss Leigh, we were discussing literature, but afterwards she asked me to stay behind. To start with I felt I must have done something wrong in class, but when the rest of the girls left and we were alone, Miss Leigh told me that she believes I show great promise and she wished to converse with me later. We arranged to meet in her room during free time. So, when the older girls were involved with their filigree and pasteboard and younger ones their dolls, I went across the corridor from my dormitory to Miss Leigh's room. On arriving she seemed somehow different, more relaxed perhaps. She immediately began to talk about the ancient Greeks and their myths and legends. She mentioned the nine muses and then asked me if I knew who Sappho was. When I said I did not, she told me about her. Sappho, she said, was also a teacher of girls, although she was more famously known for the poetry she wrote. She picked up a book that was on a table beside her and read a poem from it, which Miss Leigh said was by Sappho. She asked me what I thought of it. I did not know what I was meant to say, or if she wanted me to say something particular, so I just told her how it made me feel – how I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise and how it gave me a funny feeling in the bottom of my stomach. I do not know whether this was the right answer, as she did not say anything in reply, but she seemed pleased and smiled, so I assume I had not said anything wrong. After a few moments, she asked me whether I would like to join a group she organises at the school, which re-enacts several of the ceremonies and rituals Sappho and the girls she taught used to perform. As Miss Leigh describes it, I will find ‘a practical way into the Greek female mind', which was not that different from our own, if only we would recognise and develop it.

This is it, thought Swann, the Circle of Sappho. It had to be. It all made sense: Miss Leigh, the girls, the island, the temple and clearing with its circle of stones and altar. He quickly turned the page and continued reading.

I said that I would like to join and she told me that the circle meets twice a month, once at the time of the new moon and once when it is full. She then told me that the next meeting is to take place the following evening and that I am to leave the dormitory after dark and make my way down to the entrance to the library. She told me not to tell anyone about it and that she hoped I will find the meetings enlightening. She then leant forward and kissed me on the forehead, before placing a book in my hands. It is the book of poetry by Sappho and she said she had marked certain poems that I must read in preparation for tomorrow evening.

The entry ended. Swann immediately focussed on the next one, which began on a new page and was undated.

Tonight I am to meet the group. I do not know what to expect and in many ways I regret so eagerly accepting Miss Leigh's invitation. In class today she seemed distant; only a smile and a small nod as I was leaving showed me that she had not changed her mind and my invitation has not been revoked. While writing in class though, I did chance to look up one time and saw Miss Leigh staring in my direction as if in a kind of trance. The poems of Sappho I was asked to read by Miss Leigh make me feel strange, like nothing I have experienced before. The poems I have studied before have made me think, but these poems make me FEEL!! Whatever I may say, I am pleased to be going tonight, whatever awaits me. I trust Miss Leigh.

The following entry concerned her observations and feelings having attended the meeting.

This evening's events have left me exhausted but exhilarated. My only hope is that I can do justice in words to the sensations I experienced. I left the dormitory at the appointed hour and made my way downstairs to the library entrance. The corridors and main staircase were quiet and whereas there had been many girls around earlier, I now found myself alone. As I made my way down the stairs I thought I heard someone coming up, so I hid in a cupboard on one of the landings. Whether there was actually someone there I do not know, but after a little time all seemed quiet again and so I came out and resumed the journey downward. On reaching the library, I stepped inside, as instructed. It was completely dark, but I had been told to expect this. As soon as I closed the door behind me, a female voice spoke. ‘Do not be alarmed,' she said, ‘we are to take you to Miss Leigh, but you need to be blindfolded.' Miss Leigh had told me to do whatever I was told and so I willingly let them tie a piece of material around my head, covering my eyes. For a few moments I did wonder about the point of my being blindfolded in the pitch blackness, but then I felt the warmth of a flame near my face and realised a torch had been lit. I was then led across the room and I heard the sound of something opening. A rush of cold air made goosebumps appear on my arms and legs. I must have been taken through an opening and then we descended a set of steps. Although I had slippers on, I realised it was stone stairs, as the coldness penetrated up through the material and chilled my feet.

There were probably around twenty steps in all and when we reached the bottom I could smell dampness in the air, which itself felt stale and old. I lost my footing about halfway down the steps, but immediately two hands steadied me and I made the rest of the descent without assistance. We then went along a passageway which had an uneven stone floor. It became colder the farther along we went and I began to shiver in my cotton nightdress.

Eventually we reached what I later found out was the initiation chamber. Here I was helped down onto my knees. After a few moments I heard the sound of a familiar voice: Miss Leigh. ‘Welcome both muses and novices alike to this gathering tonight. We are here to honour and worship Sappho and through her, the great goddess Aphrodite. The nine of you here tonight represent the nine muses; with three of you from each of the fourth, fifth and sixth years respectively. With the start of the autumn term, and with the three girls from last year's final cohort having now left, we invite three girls from the lower year to join, in this way bringing our number back to nine. Those of you who are blindfolded, and there are three of you, all from the fourth year, must never breathe a word about what you witness this evening and at future meetings. You will be initiated and purified before your blindfolds are taken off, but once that is done you will form part of the Circle of Sappho and complete it once more. I implore you not to resist the initiation rites, in the knowledge you are in safe hands and no harm will come to you; that I promise. I know it is cold but as we perform the ceremony, imagine your body on a warm summer's evening, on the slopes of Mount Parnassus, where the Greek mysteries used to be held.'

The girl next to me stood up and was led away. As I would soon discover, there was an altar in the room and I heard the girl being helped up onto it. Words were spoken and after a short while it became my turn. I was led towards the altar and then two hands stopped me. The straps of my nightdress were brought down, off my shoulders, and the garment fell to the floor. I now stood completely naked, except for my blindfold. Goosebumps appeared over my body once more as I was gently manoeuvred onto the altar; I was surprised to find the stone was in some way gently heated. Once I was on the altar, I heard Miss Leigh's voice once more. This time she said to me, ‘Do not worry, what is about to happen is for purification purposes.' My body was then covered with oil and other sweet-smelling ointments. It was, I have to admit, a pleasant sensation.

Once the anointing was completed, a robe was put on me. Before my blindfold could be removed, however, the rest of the Circle had to acknowledge and welcome me. Once this had happened, my blindfold was then taken off. It took a moment for my eyes to become accustomed to their surroundings, but then I saw Miss Leigh next to the altar, with two of the older girls. The other four girls knelt before me in a semi-circle; three of the girls I recognised from the year above, and the fourth girl I knew as the head girl, Elsa. I did not recognise the other two from the top year, who were standing near Miss Leigh.

The girl from my year that had been initiated first stood to my right. We smiled briefly at each other, in recognition we had been invited to the group, and then looked with united curiosity at the third initiate, who was now being led toward the altar by the two final year girls. We watched her anointment and welcome, and knew our lives at school would never be the same again.

More than a quarter of a century after the last legal duel in Britain was fought between Viscount du Barry and Captain Rice in the autumn of 1778, Kirby stood on the site where that fatal encounter had taken place. Bathampton Down, a large expanse of land that formed part of the eastern slopes surrounding the city of Bath, was far enough away to afford the seclusion required for participation in this now-illegal activity.

Kirby was facing a life-size, hastily made figure secured against a tree, and was in the middle of shooting at it. He fired off his two pistols and was satisfied when he saw both bullets had reached their intended mark, striking at the point where the heart would have been in a real opponent. He began to reload. At that moment he was aware of movement to his right, off in the distance. Within moments he heard the unmistakable sound of a horse at full gallop. He finished reloading and as the rider approached he turned and aimed both of his primed pistols in the rider's direction.

‘You are late,' Kirby told Lockhart, lowering his pistols.

‘I was held up,' replied Lockhart, dismounting as he spoke.

He led the horse to a nearby tree, where Kirby's horse was already tethered, and tied his own mount's reins around it. He thought it best not to tell Kirby the truth; that he had been looking at wedding invitations at Mary's insistence.

‘Your message said you wanted to see me here urgently?'

‘Yes,' replied Kirby. ‘You are to be my second on Sunday.'

‘What?' cried Lockhart. ‘I thought you already had someone?'

‘He carelessly allowed himself to be killed last night in a drunken argument. So you will take his place.'

‘I do not want to undertake it. I will not undertake it. If Swann is killed and Mary finds out I was in any way involved, it will jeopardise the wedding; it might be cancelled altogether.'

‘Money accounts for a great deal, Lockhart, but it is not everything.'

‘I have told you before, Kirby, I am not marrying Mary for her money.' Though it will, he thought, greatly enhance my standing and go some way to eradicating the financial predicament I find myself in.

‘If you do not agree to be my second, your financial predicament is likely to get worse, as I shall withhold the latest payments due to you.'

Lockhart realised that he could not refuse, and nodded solemnly.

‘Good, that is settled then,' said Kirby. ‘Now, I want you to go to Henry Fitzpatrick's office this afternoon. He is to act as Swann's second at the duel on Sunday, so I want you to arrange the details with him. We shall use pistols, of course, and insist on fifteen paces but accept twelve; I have practised for both and either will suit my plan adequately. Confirm the hour as dawn and the duel is to be fought
pour la mort
.'

‘To the death?' exclaimed Lockhart. ‘Is it not a gamble, as Swann will fire first?'

‘Not in the least. From what I understand of our Mr Swann, he believes himself an honourable gentleman,' said Kirby. ‘Ha, the very thought of it! Did you know his father was a compulsive gambler? He lost all his money playing cards. And Swann has tendencies to do the same, given the opportunity.'

‘No, I did not know that. Where did you hear this?'

‘An investigation was carried out into Swann, so Wicks told me. His London connection hired someone to look into his past. Still, we digress. As you rightly stated Lockhart, as the challenged, Swann will have the right to fire first and no doubt he will aim somewhere here,' Kirby pointed a finger to his heart. ‘Once he has discharged his pistol, I will then aim mine and kill him.'

‘What if his aim is true?'

‘Why do you think I must insist on there being only between twelve and fifteen paces, the last thing I want to happen is for him to miss my heart and wound me.'

‘I do not understand,' said Lockhart, frowning.

‘If Swann hits me here, I will not be harmed.' Kirby tapped his jacket at the point of his heart. ‘It was my brother's jacket before he died of fever,' he said. ‘He served in India and while there he learnt from their irregular cavalry a way to stop swords and even bullets from causing damage. They would quilt a number of cotton cloths together, or else use refuse silk from cocoons. This has numerous silk handkerchiefs bonded together. Anyway, I suggest you ride back into the city at once and make those arrangements with Fitzpatrick. Once you have completed that, I want you back at my office at six o'clock. I have another job for you this evening.'

‘I am seeing Miss Gardiner this evening; we are to dine together.'

Kirby turned to face Lockhart.

‘For your sake, Edmund, I hope you are not going weak on me. Wicks has a swift and easy way of dealing with those lacking the necessary fibre.' Kirby ran his finger across his throat, from ear to ear. The message was clear.

‘I will be there,' said Lockhart reluctantly. ‘What is the job?'

‘I will inform you at six.'

Lockhart untied his horse and remounted it. As he was about to ride off, Kirby shouted across to him.

‘And do not forget, the duel is to be
pour la mort
.'

Lockhart nodded and rode off with a heavy heart and a sense of impending doom.

Swann checked the time. There was still an hour to go before he had to make his way down to the warehouse to change into his disguise. From there he would go to the Fountain Inn, to inform George and Bridges about the evening's undertaking. He turned the page of the diary to the next entry, and continued reading.