Misplaced Pages

Revision as of 23:44, 17 December 2024

Lady Catherine Augusta Amelia Gladys de Burgh
A photograph of Lady Catherine at the height of her beauty.
First Lady of Misplaced Pages; Princess of Serbo-Croatia; Countess of Scrotum (de facto); Duchesse de Longchamp-sous-Châtenois; As Consort of Governor- General, the Honourable Humphrey de Burgh, First Lady of Canada and Australia and other overseas dominions.
Tenure	1910 to present
Coronation	Very shortly
Born	(1910-01-01)January 1, 1910 Scrotum House, Berkley Square, London
Died	at intervals and when applicable London (assassinated by Arbcom)
Spouse	(1)Sir Marmaduke Arbuthbott-Bumley-Smythe; (2) Baron Lars-Hendrik Abba af Waterloo; (3) The Honourable Humphrey de Burgh; (4) HSH Prince Alexander of Serbo-Croatia; (5-9) Sundry others; Henri, (10) Duc de Longchamp-sous-Châtenois.
Issue	Hugo, Baron Broadmoor and Viscount Rampton (Strange boy - I can't bear his wife) * Ursaline, The Hon. Mrs Humphrey Starborgling (beautiful girl - takes so after me) * Margaux, Marchesa Chiaramonte di Ragusa (married some odd relation of Giano) * Daphne, Duchess of Weymouth (no children - I suspect he has a problem in the downstairs department - could be gay - so many are these days) * Audrey, regina delle Due Sicilie (my very favourite son-in-law) * Iolanthe, Baroness von Bismark (married into a very bossy family - very Germanic; not to be trusted.) * Muriel (a very unfortunate looking girl, who failed to make a good marriage) * Cecilia, Shaikha bint Ali Baba bin Paper Basket (lovely family - very big in oil wells and suchlike) Mother of my favourite and most handsome grandson Sir Mustapha bin Petroleum.
Names Catherine Augusta Amelia Gladys
House	Bonkbuster
Father	Phimosis Bonkbuster, 14th Earl of Scrotum
Mother	Lady Arabella Wyndham-Berkshire
Religion	Church of England (If people don't want to join they shouldn't come here, and that goes for Catholics, Presbyterians and other unorthodox wotknots).

Lady Catherine Augusta Amelia Gladys de Burgh, (1910–2008, 2012–) author, stateswoman, Wikipedian and lady, was born 1st January 1910 at Scrotum House, Grosvenor Square, London, the youngest daughter of Phimosis Bonkbuster, 14th Earl of Scrotum (1860–1930) and his wife the former Arabella Wyndham-Berkshire.

From the moment of Her Ladyship's birth London society was astounded by her wit, charm and beauty. Winston Churchill once said during World War II that had Lady Catherine been born a man she would have been very different. From the time of her first marriage in 1928, Lady Catherine changed the course of world history by her mere presence at momentous events. The greatest of literary works remain unpublished as Lady Catherine always understood her work to be too refined for the lower orders, tradespeople and those who work for a living. Her Ladyship also mistrusted publishers as a breed, following slanderous comments made by one during negotiations, soon thereafter terminated, for publication of her first great work "My Memories of the Scrotum Family".

Following the untimely death in 2006 of her eleventh husband at the age of 23, and her subsequent re-marriage a month later to Henri, Duc de Longchamp-sous-Châtenois, Her Ladyship lived in quiet retirement at her homes in Grosvenor Square, Dorset, Deeside and Cap Ferrat. Following a suspected poisoning by Misplaced Pages's Arbitration committee, Her Ladyship died at her London home on 20 November 2008. The world and Misplaced Pages mourned.

Fortunately for the world, Her Ladyship was a great believer in cryonics, and it was a cause for huge global celebration when Her Ladyship was restored to full health in 2012.

Early life

Lady Catherine's childhood was as idyllic as is only possible to one so highly born and blessed with so many talents. She was the youngest in the nursery she shared with her sister "Flopsie" (Lady Florence Bonkbuster), her brother "Arsie" (Archibald, Viscount Broadmoor), and nobody else.

Lady Catherine was overjoyed in 2007 to discover that her eldest sister "Vishy" (Lady Venetia Bonkbuster) was still alive. For years Lady Catherine had been informing people that Vishy was dead, a very understandable mistake. All the time Lady Venetia had been living in a beautiful institution in Margate. Sadly devoid of the beauty and charm bestowed upon her sister, Lady Venetia, the eldest of the Bonkbuster girls and 'that most inscrutable of Scrotums' (as Strachey had put it) became jealous, vicious, conniving and scheming: qualities which Lady Catherine was too innocent to understand. It was only when the slanders uttered by the spiteful creature became so unbearable that Lady Catherine was forced to have a word with her beloved Uncle Buffy, a high court judge; and it was he, ignoring Lady Catherine's cries of protestation and pleas for mercy, who had the creature confined indefinitely in a home for the insane. Despite all the vitriol and undeserved hate directed at poor Lady Catherine by her demented sister, Lady Catherine has never been known to utter a disloyal word against Lady Venetia. – such is the inner beauty and tranquillity of the highborn.

A different view of the matter is presented in her mother Arabella, Countess of Scrotum's collector's item What the Baronet Saw (1927), and supplemented by Roy Throng's Wrinkled Retention (2008). Shortly after publication of her extraordinary memoir, Arabella succumbed to injuries sustained in an unusual accident involving a zebra, details of which are unsuitable for the gentle reader but entirely suitable for Mr Throng.

It has frequently been said that Lady Catherine was the most gifted child in the Bonkbuster nursery, and this is true. Successive governesses employed to instruct the child progeny all stated that there was little they were able to teach the adorable little girl. One such governess went on to recall in her memoirs that in the twelve years in the Earl of Scrotum's employ, she had been able to teach his children nothing. Thus it was in 1929, fully equipped for a life at the apex of London Society that the dazzling Lady Catherine was presented to the court at Buckingham Palace and launched onto the global stage she was to occupy for the remainder of her very long and interesting life.

A debutante is presented

It has again frequently been said that the London social season of 1929 was the most glittering ever. Lady Catherine was presented to the King and Queen on the evening of July 12th 1928. Queen Mary herself later recalled the occasion in glowing terms, and her succinct and telling words summon up for us the beauty and glamour of that long ago court: "I was siting on the throne when Lord Scrotum's girl was presented, afterwards I had salmon with hollandaise sauce, it was very nice. Bed at 11.45." For the Queen who seldom used superlatives to describe Lady Catherine's presentation as "nice" tell us so much about the good taste of Lady Catherine's dress and toilette and also her exquisite beauty.

In her third autobiography, Lady Catherine, a much respected historian, described the event as an important date in the history of the World; with her usual touching modesty Lady Catherine leaves it to the reader to assume why that fact should be. It was noted by many attending the event that Lady Catherine exchanged pleasantries with Lord Rosebery and the significance of this escaped no one, especially when the eminent peer died shortly afterwards, leaving the innocent young girl a small token of his appreciation. So touched was Lady Catherine by this bequest of an oil well, that she later renamed it Crippen after her favourite Pekinese.

As the social season continued no one can be surprised to learn that Her Ladyship was nominated "Deb of the Year" and was in much demand; so much demand, in fact, that evil rumours were spread by less beautiful debutantes and their extremely ugly and vindictive mothers. These were entirely unfounded and not suitable for repetition here. Lady Catherine was always more than virtuous and there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for her presence in the shrubbery at Dorchester House with three officers from the Household Cavalry.

Following the Dorchester House ball, a hastily convened committee of the leading society hostesses unanimously agreed that it was unfair to expect the poor and very innocent Lady Catherine to subject herself to further risk of such wicked, slanderous and libellous gossip. It was decided, therefore, in order to protect the poor young girl's reputation, no more invitations would be issued to her. To shield her darling daughter further from the lying tongues, Lady Scrotum immediately took her to Florence, where Lady Catherine spent the next nine months studying religious art. A subject on which Lady Catherine is now considered one of the world's greatest connoisseurs.

Thus in April 1929, Lady Catherine returned to London, where all marvelled and acclaimed her slim figure as she began her unstinting work with numerous military charities. It was at this time that she founded HUMP (Holidays for Underprivileged Military Personal). So great was her personal interest and generosity that Her Ladyship took in this charity, she often took several soldiers away to the sea-side with her at the same time. What happy care free days these were.

Thus it was at even this young age, Lady Catherine demonstrated those admirable qualities of compassion and philanthropy for which she is so well known today throughout the World. In the original manuscript of his A History of the English-Speaking Peoples, it is believed that Winston Churchill wrote several chapters devoted to the achievements and multiple talents of Lady Catherine; however, anxious to remain a simple, humble girl devoted to the poor and needy, Her Ladyship persuaded him to cut all references to her. Was there ever a greater British heroine?

Marriages

Brigadier Sir Marmaduke Arbuthbott-Bumley-Smythe

Sir Marmaduke Arbuthbott-Bumley-Smythe (1850–1929) was a retired cavalry officer and 12th baronet when first espied by the youthful Lady Catherine Bonkbuster. Still known by her childhood name of Kitty, she was kittenish in every way and this captivated the 78-year-old Brigadier. Marmaduke Arbuthbott-Bumley-Smythe, Bt. (a member of a cadet branch of the famous Clan Arbuthnott) was somewhat overweight, bald and suffering from halitosis – members of London society could not understand what attracted the youthful and intelligent Lady Catherine to the aging billionaire (for they failed to understand her warmth, compassion and kind heart). However, on the 1st June 1928 the bells of St. Margaret's Hanover Square rang out joyously as the 18-year-old bride pushed her new husband's wheel-chair down the aisle of the church.

Sadly, within weeks of the wedding, London society would return to the same church to mourn Sir Marmaduke. Finding his inert body at the foot of his imperial staircase, his wheel-chair atop of him, his young and hysterical bride could only weep that he had seemingly slipped from her grasp. It was with a heavy heart that Lady Catherine learnt that she was now possessed of the Arbuthbott-Bumley-Smythe fortune.

However, before the poor baronet was decently buried, rumours of a vile nature were circulated by his children, claiming that the grief-stricken young widow had been comforted to an unusual degree by her under-footman Sven Skandaborg. Although well aware of the troubled past of Sven (known to the London underworld as "the Swede"), Lady Catherine had complete confidence in him. So confident was she that she entrusted him with a large sum of money for his quick return to his native Sweden, to spare him from the rumours maligning him. In this way Her Ladyship once again demonstrated her kindly and thoughtful nature. But how often must the good suffer! Lady Catherine was to be no exception to this rule. So inconsolable was the beautiful widow that she had to be dragged screaming from her husband's funeral by his family and the police.

As the whispering campaign continued, the unfortunate Lady Catherine found herself arrested and charged with the murder of her husband, and the dark shadow of the gallows loomed ahead. When Lady Catherine finally appeared at the Old Bailey she was surprised to find the judge was no less a personage than her father's old school friend Justice Sir Bufton Sleighthand, her beloved Uncle Buffy. Sir Bufton was horrified to find that the girl he had dandled on his knees so many times, and so recently, was charged with such a heinous crime. Thus it was that the wise old judge directed the jury that it was inconceivable and impossible that a descendent of an Earl of Scrotum, and such a pretty one as that, could be capable of such a crime. Only one juror dissented, and he was given twelve years for impudence and contempt of court. Lady Catherine was immediately acquitted, to loud cheering from the public gallery where sat the many tenants and retainers of the Earl of Scrotum.

So distressing had her ordeal been that she went straight to Coutts and withdrew a modest sum from the Arbuthbott-Bumley-Smythe millions. Placing the cash in her handbag she proceeded to Sweden, where by happy coincidence her faithful young retainer "the Swede" was now resident. Thus a distressing and sad chapter in Her Ladyship's most interesting and exciting life drew to a close, and most likely a climax.

Baron Lars-Hendrik Abba af Waterloo

Sadly, the happiest moments in our life are all too fleeting, and this was to prove all too true of the time Lady Catherine was to spend with her second husband Baron Lars-Hendrik Abba af Waterloo, a descendent of the Swedish hero and victor of Waterloo, and one of the wealthiest men in Scandinavia. Baron Lars was considered one of the handsomest men of his generation, so it was only natural that his penetrating eyes should fall on the injured but still ravishing Lady Catherine.

The happy couple were introduced by Lady Catherine's former footman Sven, who by happenstance was in the employment of the Baron as 2nd under valet. Indeed, it was Sven's amusing idea that Lady Catherine should hide in the Baron's bedroom during a game of sardines. Lady Catherine was always a great lover of party games, but on this occasion overcome by weariness, she climbed into the Baron's bed and fell asleep, failing to notice that the Baron had already retired himself. Some people are born evil, and it seems the disloyal Sven was one. The sleeping couple were awoken by the explosion of Sven's flashbulb. Lady Catherine, who fortunately had not removed her make-up before retiring, was hysterical with grief and shock, as the wicked Sven outlined his intentions of blackmailing the Baron. Only Lady Catherine's quick thinking and alert brain saved the Baron from one of the greatest scandals of the era: she allowed the Baron to marry her. In order to protect the Baron's reputation she insisted the Baron pay Sven his cruel financial demands, and with an evil smirk Sven left to live in Antibes.

The Baron was a great horseman with a critical eye for equine beauty. Lady Catherine was delighted to present him with an outstanding Lipizzaner as part of a larger dowry of warhorses. The horse was trained not only in the usual manoeuvres of war, but also on the sound of three distinct blows of a whistle to leap into the air and perform a backwards somersault. Was ever a husband so spoilt by his young and adoring wife?

It was at this time in her life, marooned in the Swedish countryside, that Lady Catherine, a solid English countrywoman at heart, decided to find herself a hobby. Naturally, her thoughts turned to hunting, shooting and fishing – in particular shooting, and the training of gun-dogs. As she watched her husband skilfully performing the levade on his mighty Lipizzaner, Lady Catherine had one of her many inspirations – she would train her dogs to retrieve game, in the English fashion. Gathering her pack of Pekingese she went to the garden. As the dear little Pekingese chased the two footmen cunningly clothed in elk skins, Lady Catherine trained them with lusty blows on the dog whistle concealed in her muffler. The Gods must have been angry for, as has happened all too often in Her Ladyship's life, tragedy struck. The great Lipizzaner carrying her husband, over a kilometre distant, suddenly pricked its ears and with no warning performed its famous backward somersault: and by the time the attendant grooms, alerted by the sickening squelch, caught up with their master, the poor Baron was no more.

Sweden, that distant northern land of permafrost, frozen meatballs, and snow, now held too many bittersweet memories for Lady Catherine. It was with a heavy heart, and ignoring the futile protestations of the Baron's relatives, that she sold Skandabrod Castle, auctioned the contents, sent the Rembrandts to Scrotum Towers and, packing only the family jewels, clad in her newly bought sable, left Sweden for ever.

HSH Prince Alexander of Serbo-Croatia

Sundry husbands

Lady Catherine has always maintained a dignified silence surrounding the exact number of husbands she took during a difficult period of her life when, forced to leave England, she was exiled in Sicily for ten years. Approached with questions about this period of her life by Hello Magazine she replied with her usual candour and wit "I shall only speak to Tatler." With these few simple words Her Ladyship demonstrated, yet again, her deep understanding of the human condition. Taking leave of her interviewer, she added, "Hello ... good bye".

Field Marshall Henry de Burgh

Politics

Misunderstood links with fascism

Following Lady Catherine's sad flight from Sweden, Her Ladyship, like so many others of her class and intelligence, settled in Berlin, with a small rural retreat near Munich. There, dressed in a simple dirndl and a minimum of jewels, she would lead the simple romantic life of a goat-maiden. It was only natural that as the daughter of a leading British peer, she should from time to time be entertained by the German leadership. While it is true that a Pathé news report shown in British cinemas did show her standing on the dining room table at the Reichstag singing the Horst-Wessel-Lied, this in no way showed any support of Fascism; indeed she had been begged to sing it by those anxious to hear her remarkable voice: a voice once sweetly likened (by no less than Dame Nellie Melba) to a melodious alpenhorn echoing across a frosted mountain side. If such vile rumours of Her Ladyship's political beliefs had been true, would the Duke of Windsor have taken luncheon with her at her Alpine retreat in 1937? But, ever the nomad, Lady Catherine was not destined for a long stay in Germany. It was after a prolonged and particularly amusing lunch at Berchtesgaden, when her Ladyship had been entertaining the menfolk with renditions of German marching songs, that her close friends Unity Mitford and Eva Braun suggested Lady Catherine might be happier elsewhere. So thoughtful were they that they even had a staff car and armoured platoon ready and waiting to escort her to the Italian-German border. And so began another exciting period in Her Ladyship's life of tears and pain.

The proposal from Il Duce

It was in Italy, that land of culture, grace, art and refinement, that Lady Catherine found her spiritual home. Coincidentally it was here that her brother, Arsie, Viscount Broadmoor, had also chosen to make his home. Like his sister, Lord Broadmoor was of a delicate and refined disposition, finding the roughness and coarseness of England intolerable. He chose to spend his life in the freer, more tolerant Italian society. There, like so many other English gentlemen, he whiled away his days painting precocious "shepherd" boys in the classical style, dressed in goatskins (or not), and also designing ladies' fashions that his sister happily wore to society events. However, it was not to be either a member of society or one of her brother's muscular friends who would capture the injured and lonely heart of the bereft Lady Catherine. That honour was to fall to another.

The great love of Her Ladyship's life was ultimately to be her greatest and most noble sacrifice. Threatened with a charge of treason, she stood fast. It was, alas, that cruelest of blows, a note from her father threatening to disinherit her, that forced her to rethink her future. How could she have so upset that aged, lonely, much beloved and very rich old man? This one cruel act forced her to make her historic broadcast of 1938 to the British people, relinquishing her love.

As Lady Catherine sobbed into her microphone on that terrible night, a nation wept with her. No one was closer to the hearts of the British people than Lady Catherine. As the war clouds gathered over the White cliffs of Dover, toothless peasants from John O'Groats to Land's End muttered: "Things'll be alright now, Her Ladyship is cummin home." Alas, Herr Hitler had other ideas. The lights were already dimming over Europe, as the elegant monoplane bearing Lady Catherine, with her noble heart beating fast, flew into Heston Aerodrome.

The Dark days of the Wartime

Oh her return to London, Lady Catherine decided to throw her indomitable spirit and energies into the war effort. The war had not quite started, but ever a practical and resilient person Her Ladyship could see the hardships that would lie ahead. It was of course for the upper classes to lead by example, and this was exactly what Lady Catherine decided to do. She realised that with fathers and sons torn from their families by the evils of war, and mothers toiling in munitions factories, there would be a huge void in the lives of so many little ones. The solution was obvious – Lady Catherine would found a finishing school.

Purchasing a large and secluded country house, conveniently close to a well known garrison town, Her Ladyship personally selected the girls for her school. It was reported later, after the trial, by the gutter press, that many of the girls selected were in fact far beyond school age, and had in fact been deriving incomes long before coming under Lady Catherine's protection. Yet again, Her Ladyship's refreshingly innocent and vulnerable nature had left her open to deception, and she had been truly deceived by these wicked girls. Following a six-month visit to her dearest friend Lady Mosley who was spending the war at her North London home, Lady Catherine bid England a sad farewell in order to spend the remainder of the war in the far and distant land of the "USA".

Lady Catherine's War 1941–1945 in the USA

It was on a dark and misty morning that Lady Catherine's yacht "Scrotum IV" glided silently past the Statue of Liberty. Posterity will never know her innermost thoughts as she gazed at that impressive statue representing a freedom so cruelly denied to her in England. Forty-eight thousand people had gathered unobtrusively on the quayside to welcome her (and graciously also remained to greet their President, arriving on another ship twenty minutes later). Lady Catherine greeted them with a small brave smile and an understated regal wave. Lady Catherine commandeered a waiting limousine and went on to a new life.

Men Her Ladyship may have known

According to discreet hints in Her Ladyship's famous memoirs My Life of Joy and Tears, she has led a fulfilling life on every possible level. Her friends among the titled, the artistic, and the exotic have benefited in no small measure from her fame and popularity. Pursuant to studies with a Bangladeshi master in Brick Lane, a valued friend who shall remain nameless here, she is one of the foremost English authorities on the Eastern arts and positions of love, as well as on the related terminology of the Bengali language. This is the explanation of the frequently noted fact that in moments of abandon, Her Ladyship employs only the rich amatory vocabulary of Bengali, never the crude terms which disgrace the English language.

Literary works

Lady Catherine is a prolific and consummate author. Her memoir My Life of Joy and Tears (French: Ma vie de joie et de pleurésie), one of the iconic autobiographies of our time, gives a unique view of her mind, body, and intimate relationships. For the fascination of her personality, this memoir may be the most deeply interesting of all her writings; its publication is keenly anticipated. Together with her 27 novels, with their keen observations of lavish dinners and the sometimes unusual ministrations of unpolished young waiters, her slim pseudonymous volume of nature poetry, The Stuffed Owl, bears witness to the originality of her imagination. The best-known of all her works is probably Tales of a Strict Housekeeper, published by the Obelisk Press in 1937. The able summing-up of her counsel in the trial that followed will long be celebrated in the annals of British justice.

The twilight years

One of Her ladyship's last great acts on this earth was her bid for the Vice Presidency of the USA – undoubtedly had Mr O'Bama not received slightly more votes America would have been truly blessed, and had its finest leader since George III was treated so shabbily by the natives of those parts.

Her Ladyship's final moments

Following Her Ladyship's untimely death (she had declined to submit to one before) a post-mortem examination found that Her Late Ladyship died of apoplexy following a violation by three Misplaced Pages checkusers who accused Her Ladyship of being a man – one Greg Kohs, a man Her Ladyship presumed to be an American gentleman of doubtful credentials. Her Ladyship denied vehemently that the subject of her famed biography Alice Reighly had paid for the privilege. The checkusers considered the fact that Miss Reighly was long dead was no impediment to the accusation and checkusered her. Finding that Her Ladyship's bluest and most noble blood was in fact from an evil wicked dynasty. Her Ladyship was banned from Misplaced Pages, her rage was violent, the strain on her aged heart too much, and as her inconsolable shrieks rent the air of Grosvenor Square, bringing traffic to a halt and glasswares into peril, Her Ladyship slipped noisily from this world to a far better place.

The funeral of Catherine de Burgh, Duchesse de Longchamp-sous-Châtenois (as televised)

9am: As a strong wind swirled the leaves from the gardens of Grosvenor Square in a maelstrom of gold, the silent, but softly weeping crowd, began to line the streets. on the south side of the square the American flag flying proudly above the American embassy, its blinds drawn in grief, was slowly lowered to half mast as the empty gun carriage harnessed to Her Late Ladyship's black hunter, her Wellington boots (green) reversed in the stirrups, waited by the door of Her late Ladyships London home. Only the stomping of the horse's hooves and the mournful braying of the Scrotum otter pack, brought from the ancestral home to lead the procession broke the icy silence.

At precisely 11 am the simple coffin of Lady Catherine draped by the standard of the Scrotums, fluttering gently in the wind, was carried to the waiting gun carriage by Her Late Ladyship's eight matched footmen. as the coffin was loaded the Butler led the fourteen Pekingese from the house followed by the assembled members of the Scrotum family and her Ladyships children. As the band of the IX Earl of Scrotum's Own Lancer's began the The Death March from Saul the cortege slowly moved forward—the 52 braying hounds of the Otter pack preceding the gun carriage behind which followed the 14 bloodthirsty Pekingese, the family and the 35 personal staff of her Ladyship's household. As the procession passed the American Embassy where the weeping staff stood at attention, the first cannon of the 41 gun salute could be heard from the park. This was the signal for the Embassy security staff to all fire their guns and knock their Ambassador to the ground while shouting wildly into their radios, as sirens sounded and the electronic barriers dipped suddenly in silent salute. Undeterred the cortege passed from Grosvenor Square into Upper Grosvenor Street, where traffic came to an involuntary halt, and sounded motor horns in respectful support of Her Ladyship's passing, as London's well known cabbies climbed from their Hackney carriages waving clenched fists in the air—a symbol of anger at the murderers who had caused this terrible event. In Park Lane the staff of the great hotels lined the side-walks, no doubt remembering Her Ladyship's patronage, and amusing lack of small change.

In Duke of Wellington Place the cortege paused, to await the carriage procession through the park, from the Palace of members of the Royal Household together with the King of Misplaced Pages. As the snow softly fell on the waiting party, covering the coffin with an unearthly white pall, an unfortunate incident occurred. As his Majesty of Misplaced Pages, touchingly carrying a single white lily dismounted from his carriage to join the cortege, a strange and manic creature, clad in leather, with wild staring and bulbous eyes, burst from the trees of the park and threw himself at the King's feet; the King clearly fearing for the safety of his young companion The Hon Ursuline Starborgling (24, a niece of her Ladyship) with an air which only a monarch can assume cruelly kicked the wretch to one side. At that moment Crippen, her Ladyship's loyal Pekingese broke free of his lead and bit the sad unfortunate on the ankle. During the commotion that followed, the otter hounds became disarrayed, and as the crazed individual broke cover he was set upon by the hounds who pursued him into the park, Crippen at their helm followed by the 13 remaining Pekingese. It is sad to relate, that the individual was repeatedly bitten in delicate parts of his anatomy until for safety he threw himself into the lake, as the otter hounds, mercifully, changed quarry to the pelicans, the man sunk. As he surfaced for the third and final time, bound by pond weed, Crippen still maintained his position upon the mans head, his small teeth still tightly gripping the ears. Alas, that brave dog's attempt to save the man's life was to be in vain. Crippen, valiantly, refused to release his grip until that poor man had joined Lady Catherine, although of course it is unlikely that such an evil, ugly and crazed wretch will be permitted to the same heavenly place as that noble lady.

After some minutes, order was restored and the cortege moved off, each of the 52 Otter hounds with a pelican in its mouth. Ironically that heraldic bird an emblem of the Scrotum family. The bedraggled and wet pekingese followed behind, their leader carrying what appeared to a once human ear. Finally, and without further event, the band now playing a selection of Her Ladyship's favourite Viennese Waltzs, the cortege reached that great Abbey, scene of so much of Britain's history. To the droning of the muffled bells, the baying of the hounds and the yapping of the Pekingese, Her Ladyship's mortal remain were unloaded. It is touching to report that at the Abbey, large crowds were present photographing the sad event. A sign of the reverence and respect in which Lady Catherine was held that so many had made the long journey from Japan.

It was Her Ladyships wish that only clergy who had celebrated her marriages should celebrate her funeral mass. So it was that the simple mass began. Following the placement on the catafalque the congregation sang I Vow to Thee, My Country using the German words, so cleverly translated by Lady Catherine, ever mindful of the Girl Guide's motto herself in 1939. Following the hymn, The Hon. Mrs. Bishonen-Sodastoam stepped to the pulpit to deliver the eulogy of her late and much lamented friend. The moving tribute that followed was, however, somewhat marred by Mrs. Bishonen's pet while left unsupervised and becoming bored eating three of the chandeliers, the lectern and causing a small fire.

Following the singing of the Gloria Patri the coffin was elevated for Lady Catherine's final journey. In the echoing silence a single boy soprano began to sing Panis Angelicus. The heavy emotion of the moment proved too much for the King of Misplaced Pages; who knows what thoughts were behind those tear stained eyes, as he and his companions from Misplaced Pages broke into loud and uncontrollable sobs, their bodies racked and heaving, their faces unable even to look at the passing coffin of that noble personage.

Back out into Westminster Square to the applause of those who had made the journey from Japan and the battery of paparazzi gathered in the weak winter sunshine. Loaded now into a hearse, the horsebox of hounds and pekes following, the hearse moved slowly out into the London traffic for the journey to Euston station and on to Scrotum Towers.

At the entrance to Euston station's platform 4, the mourning party was met by a delegation of Network Rail employees representing the various countries of the commonwealth and Eastern European Union. There was a pause before the coffin was placed in the carriage, as Mrs Evalina M'Boko, a station official anxious to pay her respects, pointed out that the Scrotum family had only purchased second class tickets and were in fact occupying a first class compartment. On entering the second-class carriage the mourning party was joined by a Ms Shazza Wilkins, her boyfriend, Dazza, and their infant daughter, Bethany-Madonna, en route to Wolverhampton. An awkward moment followed when the present Countess of Scrotum pointed out to Ms Wilkins that Her late Ladyship's coffin was not in fact a luncheon table or a baby changing facility and furthermore asked Dazza to remove his trainers (£199 from Argos) from it. At this juncture Mrs M'Boko pointed out to the mourning party that if they did not stop upsetting the other passengers she would call the Railway Police and requested that Crippen cease from savaging Ms Wilkins' pit bull terrier, Corbyn.

After a delay of some moments during which the funeral party were escorted back to the ticket office by Mrs M'Boko, to buy new tickets and pay a fine, the funeral train finally left Euston and passed slowly through the suburbs and on towards the family seat for that final return home.

Reports of death were greatly exaggerated

Arriving at Scrotum the sad cortege passed along the village street, lined with weeping retainers and through the great iron gates into the park. Before proceeding to the silent, brooding mausoleum in the dark woods, the mourners retired to the mansion to avail themselves of the facilities. It was while several of the mourners were loading their cars with small easily handled ornaments and pictures, that Stanislas (Her Ladyship's devoted plumber) decided to take one last, meaningful look at Her Ladyship. He lifted the oaken lid, and gently held her hand, sentimentally and slowly twisting and caressing the large diamond solitaire, when like Sleeping Beauty, Her Ladyship suddenly awoke. Sitting upright, and ramming the diamond solitaire firmly back on her finger, she surveyed her stunned family. The look of frozen delight on their faces as they realised that Lady Catherine was not dead, but has merely been suffering from a catatonic illness was a delight for her to behold. Climbing from the now redundant coffin, and removing the Rembrandt from her beloved nephew's hands she poured herself a large gin, whilst reserving a bowlful for her joy filled Pekingese.

First Lady of Misplaced Pages and the USA

Finding Scrotum Towers and the sight of the opened mausoleum a little depressing, after carrying out a full inventory of her possessions and threatening several of her relations with lawsuits, Lady Catherine summoned her chauffeur and returned to London which coincidentally had become the home of Misplaced Pages's esteemed sovereign. Poor dear King Jimbo was anxious to lay down that heavy burden which God has placed up his noble head and find a suitably glittering and illustrious successor.. It is therefore hardly surprising that one evening as Lady Catherine dined at her usual table in the Ritz with her daughter, Ursaline, and great nephew, Giano, that amongst those passing by to pay their respects was Jimbo himself. As he waited, nervously screwing his table napkin, for an acknowledgement and few gracious words - how he must have envied that posture, regal pose and full head of raven hair. How he must have admired Giano, the loyal nephew and dining companion. After several minutes, Giano drew his aunt's attention to the man waiting so patiently at her feet. As Jimbo gazed into those kind, wise eyes he knew instantly that he had found a worthy successor; it was later said that by cruel and unkind charlatans that Lady Catherine had engineered the meeting and drugged and hypnotised the unfortunate Jimbo - a spurious claim strongly refuted. The details of that historic meeting are best told by an independent witness, no other personage than Lady Catherine's own daughter, Ursaline Starborgling in her own eloquent words:-

"Oh how fondly I remember those heavenly nights of the 1940s, the divine firework displays provided by Herr Hitler and his chums - their sparkles reflected in the Thames as we dined at the Savoy before going on to the Cafe de Paris where old Snake Hips gyrated and sung as we danced all night - Oh what fun it all was." Where am I now?

Oh yes, here I am: "so I was on the dressing table in the Ritz's ladies' loo with my nose against the tiles, when dearest, darling Aunt Clemmie came in and said: Ursaline stop smelling that nasty, disgusting French chalk at once, go and rejoin your mother; she's being pestered by some odd little man" Actually it may have been 1962, not 1942 - I get confused at parties; is it important?

In 2016, the World's press (and most other people) were caught completely unaware when the Lady Catherine announced her forthcoming nuptials to American presidential candidate Donald Trump. In her speech of acceptance of the American Presidency, the Lady Catherine announced that the White House would become a force for good and an outpost representing all that was best in Britain. In the style of the National Trust, an 'olde English tea room' would be opened in the West Wing and also souvenir shop selling genuine reproduction items from Scrotum Towers. In this way, Her Ladyship felt that so many Americans would not need to come annually to England and clutter up the food halls at Harrods and Fortnum and Mason, which causes immensely tiresome queues for English dowagers buying their groceries. In response to these plans, Melania Trump promptly arranged for a July 4th press event, to address the good Lady's attempts at "blatant bigamy". Alas, she once again obtained the wrong teleprompter - this one belonging to Rosalyn Carter - and a disastrous leak of long guarded Carter family peanut brittle recipes caused rioting throughout the state of Georgia.

In 2024, Lady Catherine announced that all talk of her knowing Mr Trump was false, spurious fake news. Due to overtaxing and claims of tax fraud concerning numerous off-shore companies, Her Ladyship was in fact forced to live in abject penury at her homes in Monte Carlo, Long Island and the Cayman Islands.

Notes

1. Although Burke’s Peerage claims Her Ladyship was born in 1910, Lady Catherine strongly disputes this and maintains that she was born in 1920.
2. de Burgh pp 1 – 104; 106 – 212; 214 – 318
3. de Burgh, p 265
4. The Letters of Lytton Strachey, ed. Paul Levy, 2005, p. 222. (ISBN 0-670-89112-6)
5. Sleighthand p 167
6. de Burgh, p. 476.
7. Respect for freedom of inquiry and opinion impels presentation of a summary of these extraordinary fantasies, viz: Lady Catherine's life has always been somewhat tainted. Indeed, the term 'sibling rivalry' was coined by the eminent psychiatrist Dr Gottfried Strabismus after his close study of Lady Catherine in her childhood. From an early age she was in the shadow of her far more talented, beautiful and accomplished sister Lady Venetia, a shadow from which Catherine was never to emerge. This stunted her growth, mentally, emotionally and indeed physically: her eyelids stopped growing at the age of six, with the unfortunate result that Lady Catherine is unable to close her eyes and has a rather unsettling 'staring' appearance. This has led to the soubriquet of 'Boggle-Eyes Burgh' amongst the under-stairs members of her modestly staffed household. However, in 2007 her sister Venetia graciously extended the hand of friendship to her poor sister who was struggling in reduced circumstances, an event which lifted Lady Catherine from the despond in which she had spent the previous sixty years. Venetia, ever charming and generous, chose to ignore the vicious and vile babblings of her demented sibling, as documented in these very pages. Greater love hath no woman! (Bonkbuster, pp. 12–173.)
8. Miss Agnes Penury: The Noble Nursery, page 807; London 1934
9. The Diary of HM Queen Mary: The Royal Archives, Windsor Castle.
10. De Burgh, Lady Catherine. A Splendid Life. Palermo Publishing 1997. Copies still available $120, all major credit cards accepted.
11. De Burgh, Lady Catherine. A Splendid Life. Palermo Publishing 1997. Copies still available $120, all major credit cards accepted.
12. Holy, Moses Jr. (1947). Michelangelo: The Scrotum Towers Chapel Chapel Ceiling. Palermo Publishing
13. de Burgh, p 215
14. Hello Magazine, February 1997
15. A large country somewhere between Canada and Uruguay.
16. News of the World, August 16, 2003.
17. [http://www.thesun.co.uk/ The Sun, August 29, 2007, p. 3.
18. A fact already known to most of Misplaced Pages, most of the Arbcom and most of the checkusers and for 2 years to the violating checkuser and controller of the Arbcom mailing list, David Gerard
19. The foundation had refused to fund the remainder of the floral tribute
20. De Burgh: The Resurrected Years, p467.
21. The British Press and several supposed eye witnesses
22. De Burgh: The Resurrected Years, p469.

Further reading

• Carbuncle, Lady Arabella. What the Baronet Saw. Obelisk Press, 1927, Paris. Exceedingly uncommon, and happily so.
• de Burgh, Lady Catherine. My Life of Joy and Tears. Privately published 1962, London.
• Porkstrain, St John. Notable Patrons of British Airways Ltd. 1950, London.
• Sleighthand, Bufton. The Condemned Cell: 70 Years a Judge. 1953, London.
• Sleighthand, Bufton. The Long Drop: The Dangers of Lenient Sentencing. 1949, London
• Throng, Roy. Wrinkled Retention: The Scrotums through the Centuries 2008, London and New York.