A History of the Pimlico League of Educated Ladies
Prepared under duress by Dr Cornish Fougus
The Pimlico League of Educated Ladies is a venerable and mysterious collective (as indeed are many of its members). The group was originally one of the many and diverse chapters of the Penge Institute of Ladies of the Night and was, until recently, based across the world wherever the Empire had stuck its fingers – including a number of locations where it probably shouldn’t have.
Membership is a particularly thorny issue as the methods for application seem to be almost non-existent. Indeed their motto “Nos vestrum adprehendet vos” (We will find you!) is supposed to suggest both threat and promise. Educated Ladies are supposed to be able to spot each other across a room, although it is sometimes claimed they can smell each other down the length of a street. Suffice it to say that they recognise one of their own wherever they may be.
To fully understand the purpose of this organisation it is probably wise to identify where it all started, or, for that matter, who is to blame…
The Penge Institute of Ladies of the Night
The Penge Institute for the Ladies of the Night can trace its roots back to the village of Penceat (the original name for Penge) which was sold in 957 to a Saxon Baron. As such the village, its environs and “The mayne harlottef whoe infeft the foreft and the laynde, be they fpectyre or forcereffef” fell under the control of this ambitious member of the gentry. The women of Penceat, however, appear to have been something of a hindrance to the Baron’s plans and so, to prevent his men from suffering a grisly fate at the hands of (or, worse still, under) them he decided to allocate some land to the women in the hope that they would “leave uf well alone”.
Little is then heard of the group for centuries apart from notes from various military forces to avoid the area. One of the more robust groups were the legendary Knights Templar, who shortly after their excursion to Penge, simply ceased to exist. It seems, however, that the Ladies continued to prosper.
During the time of the dissolution of the monasteries an unfortunate group of men was sent by the King to the area in the mistaken belief that the site was that of a nunnery. The men managed to set fire to the rude huts and shelters on the land, as is attested by the archaeological find of burnt charcoal, melted gold and occasional exotic chainmail underwear. The women then inhabiting the site appear to have been both quick and slow with their vengeance. Many of the men never returned and those that did had little recollection of what had occurred. It can be noted, however, that of all those who did return, none survived more than a couple of years – and neither did their families or households.
Tests on the bones of those families suggest that some unknown condition swept through the area, dramatically reducing the population. There have been a number of conditions which have been suggested as a culprit, but modern science indicates that the culprit most closely resembles a highly contagious, and airborne, version of syphilis.
Despite the destruction of their rude houses the Penge women appear to have had access to a great deal of resources. The original chapter house of the Penge Institute for Ladies of the Night (PIFLOTN) rose from the ashes of the past in rich Tudor style. It is significant to note that each of the women appears to have had their own room, quite a departure from normal living arrangements of the time. Yet, despite this luxury, the leader of the group, Madame Muschiessen (who appears to have been of German descent) ruled them with an iron rod – and sometimes a wooden spoon. Under the aegis of the Madame, several Chapter Houses were installed in various major cities around the world.
Sadly little remains of the original institute building as the demolition of it to make way for the Blenheim Shopping Centre was carried out with great zeal by the locals – complete with a ritualistic salting of the earth.
There are many rumours, however, that the shopping centre has been cursed by this vandalism; there are reports that late-night visitors are often assailed by ghostly voices shouting in Old English “Ha’penny Hand, Penny Dreadful, Tuppence o’ Terror”. It has also been noted that the current building reeks strongly of incontinence – although having met several local residents this author would suggest that this is not of supernatural origin.
The institute has splintered into smaller factions over the years, each offshoot developing its own approaches to various blights and occurrences that have presented themselves over the years. As Britain’s colonial past has waned many of the groups have philosophically opposed themselves to other, still connected groups. The American Tea Cakes, (as they like to be known) for example appear to have a great anathema to the British and Commonwealth groups, the Russian Groups and actually anyone who is not a member of the American Group, whilst also being oddly hostile to anyone who actually is a member of the American Group.
The Pimlico League of Harlots and Associated Trades was one of the first groups to split from the original as it encouraged Art, Education and the use of prophylactics as a matter of course. In 1917 this group spontaneously walled themselves up in their chapter house and through a a dogged determination to see no outsiders it seemed they managed to avoid the outbreak of Spanish Flu which swept across Europe.
After their emergence in 1921 (following the extinction of the flu virus that they affectionately called “the Great Clap”) they discovered that many of the other splinter groups had expired – aside from one or two who had also managed to take suitable precautions. Into this new and exciting world the now-renamed “Pimlico League of Educated Ladies” was born.
There is a bi-annual symposium held for all of the remaining “schismed groups” in the hope of bringing them together under one umbrella of “Ambivalence to all of Mankind” and – even now – this “Schism Sisters” meeting is considered to be one of the most dangerous places for any non-member – or, for that matter, actual member – to be.
The ladies themselves seem to be a very varied collection. Ladies of all ages, races, beliefs and marital statuses (statii?) are members. A true melting pot of differing beliefs, in the League of Educated Ladies it seems that Communists and Fascists will happily sit side by side with Liberals in order to gang up and irritate any poor unfortunate who happens to be passing.
Some interesting facts about The Educated Ladies:
- Marmite Yeast Extract was discovered during the examination of the underwear of one of the less educated members. The paste, once removed and added to left-over brewer’s yeast, created a black, noxious sauce high in Vitamin B. As its discoverer attested, “It was almost as if the yeast was desperately trying to create enough energy to escape before it died back”. From those original scrapings the industry has grown enough Marmite to poison over a thousand elephants – with a surprising amount left over. (That said, the occasional growing body part which is found in the process is more than made up for by its popularity.)
- All Queens in the Royal Family are honorary members. As the leader of the group has pointed out, any Queen who can still inflict that much damage if they so choose must be one of us.
- Likewise Elton John is also a member for the same reason.
- And Ben Cohen.
- The Ladies secret signs and rituals are many and diverse, from “paying very slowly with small pieces of change in queues at the supermarket” to “looking at electronic devices as though they were an affront to existence”. There is also the small matter of the smell.