Sherlock Holmes: Five Orange Pips

Late September.  Gales had set in with exceptional violence.  All day the wind had screamed and the rain had beaten against the windows.  These are the moments we recognise the presence of eternal forces and forget about the routine life.  As evening drew in the storm grew higher and louder, and the wind cried and sobbed like a child in the chimney.  Sherlock Holmes sat at one side of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of crime, while I at the other was deep in Clark Russell's sea-stories. [1] My wife was away on a visit to her mother's, and for a few days I am a dweller at Baker Street.

"Why?" said I glancing up at my companion, "that was surely the bell, who could come tonight? A friend of yours?"

"Except yourself I have none," he answered.  "I do not encourage visitors."

"A client, then?"

"If so, it is a serious case.  Nothing less would bring a man out on such a day, and at such an hour.  Perhaps it may be some crony of the landlady's.

Sherlock Holmes was wrong.  There came a step in the passage and a tapping at the door.  Holmes turned the lamp away from him towards the vacant chair, and said, "come in" to the newcomer.

The man who entered was young, about two and twenty, well-groomed and trimly clad, with something of refinement and delicacy in his bearing.  The umbrella in his hand and his water-proof told of the fierce wheather through which he had come.  He looked about him anxiously in the glare of the lamp. He was pale and his eyes were anxious.

"I owe you an apology," he said raising his pince-nez [2] to his eyes.  "I trust that I am not intruding.  I fear that I have brought traces of storm and rain to your snug chamber."

"Give me your coat and umbrella," sad Holmes.  "They may rest here on the hook, and will be dry presently.  You have come up from southwest, I see."

"Yes, from Horsham." [3]

"That clay and chalk mixture I see upon your toe-caps is quite distinctive."

"I have come for advice."

"That is easily got."

"And help."

"That is not always so easy."

"I have heard of you, Mr Holmes.  I heard from Major Prendergast how you saved him in the Tankerville club scandal."

"Ah, of course.  He was wrongfully accused of cheating at cards."

"He said that you would solve anything."

"He said too much"

"That you are never beaten."

"I have been beaten four times by men, and once by a woman."

"But what is that compared with the number of your successes?"

"It is true that I have been generally successful."

"Then you may be so with me."

"I beg that you will draw your chair upto the fire, and favour me with some details as to your case."

"It is no ordinary one."

"None of those which come to me are.  I am the last court of appeal."

"And yet I question, sir, whether in all your experience, you have ever listened to a more mysterious and inexplicable chain of events than those which have happened in my own family."

"You fill me with interest," said Holmes, "Pray give us the essential facts from the commencement, and I can afterwards question you as to those details which seems to me be most important."

The young man pulled his chair up, and pushed his wet feet out towards the blaze.

"My name is," said he, "John Openshaw, but my own affairs have, as far as I can understand it, little to do with this awful business.  It is an hereditary matter, so in order to give you an idea of the facts, I must go back to the commencement of the affair.

"You must know, my grandfather had two sons, my uncle Elias and my father Joseph.  My father had a small factory at Coventry, [4] which he enlarged at the time of the invention of bicycling.  He had a patent of the Openshaw unbreakable tire.  The business was a success and he sold it at a handsome price, and retired.

"My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man, and he became a planter in Florida, [5] where he was reported to have done very well. At the time of war he fought ln Jackson's army, [6] and afterwards under Hood, where he rose to be Colonel. When Lee laid down his arms, my uncle returned to his plantation, where he remained for three or four years.  Around 1870 he came back to Europe and took small estate in Sussex [7] near Horsham 

He made a considerable fortune in the States, but he did not like Negroes, and the Republican policy of patronizing them.  He was a singular man fierce and quick-tempered and foul-mouthed when he was angry and of a most retiring disposition.  During all the years he lived at Horsham I doubt if he ever set foot in the town.  He had a garden and two or three fields round his house, and there he would take exercise, and for weeks on end he would never leave his room.  He drank a great deal of brandy, and smoked heavily.  He would see no society, and did not want any friends, not even his brother.

He took a fancy to me when I was a youngster of twelve or so.  This was in the year 1878, after he had been eight or nine years in England.  He begged my father to let me live with him, and he was very kind to me in his way.  When he was sober he used to be fond of playing backgammon and draughts with me, and he would make me his representative both with the servants and with the tradespeople, so that by the time I was sixteen I was quite master of the house.  I kept all the keys, and could go where I liked and do what I liked, so long as I did not disturb him in his privacy.  There was one singular exception, however, for he had a single room, a lumber room up above the attics, which was invariably locked, and which he would never permit either me or anyone else to enter.  With a boys curiosity I have peeped through the key-hole, but I was never able to see more than such a collection of old trunks and bundles as would be expected in such a room.

One day - it was in March,1883 - a letter with a foreign stamp lay upon the the table in front of the Colonel's plate.  It was not a common thing for him to receive letters, because his bills were all paid in money, and had no friends of any sort.  'From India!' said he as he, as he took it up, 'Pondicherry post mark!' What can this be?'  Opening it hurriedly, out there jumped five little dried orange pips, which pattered down upon his plate.  I began to laugh at this, but the laugh was struck from my lips at the sight of his face.  His lips had fallen, his eyes were protruding, his skin the colour of putty, and he glared at the envelope which he still held in his hand.  'K.K.K.!' he shrieked, and then said, My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me!'

"What is it, uncle?' I cried.

"Death." said he, and raising from the table he retired to his room, leaving me palpitating with horror.  I took up the envelope, and saw scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the gum, the letter K three times repeated.  There was nothing else save the five dried pips.  What could be the reason of his overpowering fear?  I left the breakfast table, and as I went up the stairs, he was coming down with an old rusty key, which must have belonged to the attic, and a small brass box, like a cash box.

" 'They may do what they like, but I will checkmate them still,' said he, 'Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my room today, and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.' [8]

"I did as he ordered, and when the lawyer arrived I was asked to step up to the room.  The fire was burning brightly, and in the grate there was a mass of black fluffy ashes as of burned paper, while the brass box stood open and empty beside it. As I glanced at the box, I noticed, with a start, that upon the lid were printed treble K which I had read in the morning upon the envelope.

" 'I wish you John,' said my uncle, 'to witness my will.  I leave my estate, with all its advantages and all its disadvantages, to my brother, your father, whence it will, no doubt descent to you.  If you can enjoy it in peace, well and good!  If you find it you cannot, take my advice, my boy, and give it to your deadliest enemy.  I am sorry to give you such a two-edged thing, but I can't say what turn things are going to take.  Kindly sign the paper, where Mr Fordham shows you.'

"I signed the papers as directed, and may lawyer took it away with him.  The singular incident made deepest impression upon me, and I pondered over it, and turned it every way in my mind, without being able to make anything of it.  Yet I could not shake off the vague feeling of dread which it left behind though the sensation grew less keen as weeks passed, and nothing happened to disturb the usual routine of our lives.  However, I could see a change in my uncle.  He drank more than ever, and he was less inclined for any sort of society.  Most of his time he would spend in his room, with the door locked up inside, but sometimes he would emerge in a sort of drunken frenzy, and would burst out of the house and tear about the garden with a revolver in his hand, screaming out that he was afraid of no man, and he was not to be cooped, like a sheep in a pen, by a man or devil.  When these hot fits were over, he would rush tumultuously into his room.  At such time his face would glizen with moisture.

"Well, to come to the end of the matter, Mr Holmes, there came a night when he made one of those drunken sallies, from which he never came back.  When we went to search for him, we found him, face downward in a little green-scummed pool, which lay at the foot of the garden.  There was no sign of any violence, and the water was but two feet deep, so that the jury, having regard to his known eccentricity, brought in a verdict of suicide.  But I, who knew how he winced from the very thought of death, had much ado to persuade myself that he had gone out of his way to meet it. The matter passed, however, and my father entered into the possession of the estate and, and some 14000 pounds, which lay to his credit at the bank."

"One moment," Holmes interposed, "your statement is most remarkable.

When did your uncle received the anonymous letter, and when did he die?"

"The letter arrived on March 10, 1883.  Seven weeks later, on the night of 2nd May he died.'

"Thank you, pray proceed."

"When my father took over the Horsham property, he, at my request made a careful examination of the attic, which had been always locked up.  We found the brass box there, although its contents had been destroyed.  On the inside of the cover was a paper label, with the initials K.K.K. repeated on it, and 'Letters, memoranda, receipts and a register.'  These, we presume, indicated the nature of the papers which had been destroyed by Colonel Openshaw.  For the rest, there was nothing of much importance in the attic, save a great many scattered papers and notebooks bearing upon my uncle's life in America.  Some of them were of the wartime, and showed that he had done his duty well, and had borne the repute of a brave soldier.  Others were of a date during the reconstruction of the Southern states, and were mostly concerned with politics, for he had evidently taken a strong part in opposing carpet-bag politicians who had been sent down from the North.

"Well, it was the beginning of '84 when my father came to live at Horsham and all went as well as possible with us until the January of '85.  On the fourth day after the New Year I heard my father give a sharp cry of surprise as we sat together at the breakfast table.  There he was, sitting with a newly opened envelope in one hand and five dried orange pips in the outstretched palm of other hand.  He had always laughed at what he called cock-and-a-bull story about the Colonel, but he looked very scared and puzzled now that the same thing had come upon himself."

" 'Why, what on earth does this mean, John?' he stammered.

"My heart had turned to lead. 'It is K.K.K.' said I.

"He looked inside the envelope.  'So it is.' he cried.  Here are the very letters. But what is this written above them?'

" 'Put the papers on the sundial,' I read, peeping over his shoulder.

" 'What papers? What sundial?  He asked.

"The sundial in the garden.  There is no other," said I; but the papers must be those that are destroyed.

" 'Pooh! said he, gripping hard at his courage.

'We are in a civilized land here, and we can't have tomfoolery of this kind. Where does the thing come from?'

" 'From Dundee,' I answered glancing at the post-mark.[10]

" 'Some preposterous practical joke,' said he.  'What I have to do with sundials and papers? I shall take no notice of such nonsense.'

" 'I should certainly speak to the police,' said I.

" 'And be laughed at for my pains.  Nothing of the sort.'

" 'Then let me do so?' 

" 'No I forbid you.  I won't have a fuss made about such nonsense.'

"It was in vain to argue with him, for he was a very obstinate man, I went about with a heart full of forebodings.

"On the third day after coming of the letter my father went to visit an old friend of his, Major Freebody.  I was glad that he went, for it seemed to me that he was farther from danger when he was away from home. But I was in error.  Upon the second day of his absence I received a telegram from the Major, imploring me to come at once.  My father had fallen over one of the deep chalk-pits which abound in the neighborhood, and was lying senseless, with a shattered skull.  I hurried to him, but he passed away without having ever recovered consciousness.  He was returning from Fareham[9] in the twilight, and as the country was unknown to him, and the chalk-pit unfenced, the jury had no qualms in bringing in a verdict of accidental death.  Carefully as I examined every fact connected with his death, there was nothing to suggest the idea of murder. No sign of violence, no footmarks, no robbery, no strangers upon the road. I was not at ease, and doubted some foul play in these deaths.

And in this sinister way I came into my inheritance.  I am well conceived that our troubles in some way connected with some incident in my uncle's life.  And that danger still lingers.

It was in January '85 my poor father met his end.  Two years and eight months have elapsed.  During these times I have lived happily at Horsham.  And I begun to hope that this curse had passed away.  But yesterday morning the curse fell in the very shape in which it had come upon my father and my uncle."

The young man took from his waistcoat a crumpled envelope, placed it on the table and shook out upon it five little dried orange pips.

"This is the envelope," he continued.  "The post-mark is London - Eastern Division.  Within are the very words which were upon my father's last message: 'K.K.K' ; and then 'put the papers on sundials' "

"What have you done," asked Holmes.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"To tell the truth" - he sank his face into his thin white hands - "I have felt helpless.  I have felt like one of those poor rabbits when the snake is writhing towards it.  I seem to be in the grasp of some restless inexorable evil, which no foresight and no precautions can guard against."

"Tut! tut!"cried Sherlock Holmes, "you must act, man, or you are lost.  Nothing but energy can save you.  This is no time for despair."

"I have seen the police."

"Ah!"

"But they listened to my story with a smile.  I am convinced that the inspector has formed the opinion that the letters are all practical jokes, and the deaths of my uncle and father were only accidents, and were not connected with the letters."

"Incredibly imbecility!" said Holmes, shaking his hands in the air.

"They have, however, allowed me a policeman who may remain with me in the house."

"Has he come with you tonight?"

"No. His orders were to remain in the house."

"Why did you come to me?"said Holmes, "and why did you not come early.  You should have come when your uncle --"

"I did not know.  It was only today that I spoke to Major Prendergast about my troubles, and he advised to come to you."

"It is really two days since you had the letter.  We should have acted before this.  You have no further details than that which you have placed before us."

"I have some remembrance," said John Openshaw, drawing out a piece of discoloured blue-tinted paper from his coat pocket and laid it upon the table, "that on the day when my uncle burned the papers I observed that the small unburned margins which lay amid the ashes were of this particular colour.

I found this single sheet upon the floor of his room, and I am inclined to think that it may be one of the papers which has, perhaps, fluttered out from among others, and in that way have escaped destruction.  Beyond the mention of pips, I do not see that it helps much.  I think myself that it is a page from some private diary.  The writing is undoubtedly my uncle's."

Holmes moved the lamp, and we both bent over the sheet of paper, which showed by its ragged edge that it had indeed been torn from a book.  It was headed, "March, 1869,"

and beneath were the following enigmatical notices:

"4th, Hudson came, same old platform 

"7th, set the pips on McCauley, Paramore, and John Swain, of St Augustine.

"9th McCauley cleared. 

10th. John Swain cleared.

12th. Visited Paramore. All well."

"There is but one thing to do," said Holmes. "It must be done at once.  You must put the piece of paper which you have shown us into the brass box which you have described.  You must also put in a note to say that all the other papers were burned by your uncle, and that this is the only one which remains.  You must assert that in such words as will carry conviction with them.  Having done this, you must at once put the box out upon the sun dial, as directed.  Do you understand?"

"Entirely."

"Do not think of revenge, or anything of the sort, at present.  We may gain that by means of law.  The first consideration is to remove the pressing danger which threatens you.  The second is to clear up the mystery and to punish the guilty."

"I thank you," said the young man, rising and pulling on his overcoat.  "You have given me fresh life and hope.  I shall certainly do as you advise."

"Do not lose an instant, and take care of yourself, because you are threatened by a real and imminent danger.  How do you go back?"

"By train from Wateloo." [11]

"It is not yet nine, the streets will be crowded, so I trust that you may be in safety.  And you cannot guard yourself too closely."

"I am armed."

"That is well.  Tomorrow I shall set to work upon your case."

"I shall see you at Horsham, then."

"No.  Your secret lies London.  It is there I shall seek it."

"Then. I shall call upon you and take your advice." He shook hands with us, and took his leave.

The wind and the rain splashed and spattered against the windows.  This is a strange and wild story.  Sherlock Holmes sat in silence for some time, his eyes on the red glow of fire.  Then he lit his pipe.  The blue smoke rings curled into the air, one after the other upto the ceiling.

"I think, Watson," he remarked, "more fantastic than any other."

 "Save, perhaps, the Sign of Four."

"Well, yes.  Save perhaps that.  Yet this John Openshaw seems to me to be walking amid even greater perils than did the Sholtos."

"But have you," I asked, "formed any definite concept as to what these perils are?"

"There can be no question as to their nature," he answered.

"Then what are they? Who is this K.K.K., and why does he pursue this unhappy family?"

Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and placed his elbows upon the arms of his chair with his finger tips together.

"The ideal reasoner would," he remarked, "when he had once been shown a single fact in all its bearings deduce, all the chains of events which led up to this and the results that would follow these events.  We have not yet grasped the reason.  Kindly hand me down the letter K of the American Encyclopaedia which stands upon the shelf beside you.  Thank you.  Let us assume that Colonel Openshaw had some strong reason for leaving America.  Men at his time of life do not change all their habits, exchange willingly the charming climate of Florida for the lonely life of an English provincial town.  His extreme love of solitude in England suggests that he was in fear of someone or something.  As to what it was he feared, we can only deduce by considering the letters which he himself and his successors received.  Did you remember the post-marks of those letters?"

"The first was from Pondicherry, the second from Dundee, and the third from London."

"From East London.  What do you deduce from that?

"They are all seaports.  The writer was on board of a ship."

"Excellent.  We have already a clue.  There is the probability that the writer was on board of a ship.  In the case of Pondicherry, seven weeks elapsed between threat and its fulfilment.  In Dundee it was only three or four days.  Does that suggest any thing?

"Greater the distance, longer the time for execution."

"But the letter also had a greater distance to come."

"Then I do not see the point."

"Here is the presumption: the letter came by a steamer. The killer or killers came by a sailing ship in the case of Pondicherry."

"It is possible."

"No.  It is probable."

"And now you see the deadly urgency.  The blow has always fallen at the end of killer's travel.  Now it is London, and so, we cannot count upon delay."

"Good God!" I replied, "what can it means, this relentless persecution?"

"The papers which Openshaw carries are of vital importance to the killer or killers.  There must be more than one of them, and 'K.K.K.' may be a badge of a society."

"But of what society?"

"Have you never --"said Sherlock Holmes, bending forward and sinking his voice --have you never heard of the Ku Klux Klan?"

"I never have."

Holmes turned over the leaves of the book upon his knee.  "Here it is," said he presently, 'Ku Klux Klan', a name derived from the fanciful resemblance to the sound produced when cocking a rifle. A terrible secret society was formed by some ex-Confederate soldiers in the southern states after civil war, and it spread in different parts of the country, notably in Tennessee, Louisiana, Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida.  Its power was used for terrorising negro voters, and driving them out of the country.  Its outrages were usually preceded by a warning sent to the marked man in some fantastic but generally recognised way - a sprig of oak leaves in some areas, melon seeds in another, and orange pip in some others.  On receiving this the victim might either openly abjure his former ways, or might fly from the country.  If he brave the matter out death would unfailingly come upon him, in some strange and unforseen manner.

So perfect was the organisation of the society, and so systematic its methods, that there is hardly a case upon record where any man succeeded in braving it with impunity, or the perpetrators brought to law.  For some years the organisation flourished, in spite of the efforts of the U.S. government and better classes of society in the south.  Eventually in the year 1869, the movement rather suddenly collapsed, atho there had been sporadic outbreaks of the same sort since that date."

"You will observe," said Holmes, laying down the volume, "that the sudden breaking up of the society was coincident with the disappearance of Openshaw from America with their papers.  It may well have been the cause and effect.  It is no wonder that he and his family have some of the more implacable spirits upon their track.  You can understand that this register and diary may implicate some of the first men in the south, and that there may be many who will not sleep easy at night until it is recovered."

"Then the page we have seen --"

"Is such we might expect.  It ran, if I remember right, 'sent the pips to A,B, and C; that means they have sent the society's warning to them.  Then there are successive entries that A and B cleared or left the country, and finally C was visited, with, I fear a sinister result for C.  I think Doctor, we may let some light into the dark place, and I believe that the only chance the young Openshaw has in the mean time is to do what I have told him.  There is nothing more to be said or to be done tonight, so hand me over my violin, and let us try to forget for half an hour the miserable weather and the still more miserable ways of our fellowmen."

The morning was clear.  The Sun was shining with subdued brightness. Sherlock Holmes was at breakfast when I came down.

"You will excuse me for not waiting for you.  A very busy day before me, the case of young Openshaw."

"What steps are you going to take?"

"It depends upon my first enquiry.  I may have to go down to Horsham."

"Not going there, first?"

"No. I shall commence with the city."

As I waited, my eyes went over the unopened newspaper.  "Tragedy near the Waterloo Bridge" was the main heading.  Here is the account, which I read aloud so as to be audible to Holmes at the breakfast table:

'Between nine and ten last night, Police constable Cook of the H Division, on duty near Waterloo Bridge, heard a cry for help and a splash in the water.  The night was extremely dark and stormy.  In spite of the help of many passers-by the rescue was quite impossible.  However, the alarm was given and by the help of the water-police, the body was eventually recovered.  It proved to be that of a young gentleman, whose name as it appears from an envelope, found in his pocket, was John Openshaw, and whose residence is near Horsham.  It is conjectured that he may have been hurrying down to catch the last train

from Waterloo station, and that in his haste and the extreme darkness he missed his path and walked over the edge of one of the small landing places for river steam boats.  The body exhibited no traces of violence, and there can be no doubt that the deceased had been a victim of an unfortunate accident, which ------" here I stopped reading, for it was a plea by the correspondent to authorities to correct the poor condition of landing stages.

We sat in silence for a few minutes.  Holmes was depressed and shaken.

"That hurts my pride, Watson," he said at last, "it is a petty feeling, no doubt, but it hurts my pride.  It becomes a personal matter with me

now, and if God will, I shall set my hand upon this gang.  That he should come to me for help, and that I should send him away to his death!"

"They must be cunning devils," he said at last.  "How could they have tricked him there? The Embankment is not on the direct line to station.  The bridge, no doubt was too crowded.  Well, Watson, we shall see who will win in the long run.  I am going out now!"

"To the police?"

"No; I shall be my own police.  When I have spun the web they may make the flies."

All day I was engaged in my profession, and it was late in the evening, that I returned to Baker Street.  He had not come back yet.  It was nearly ten o'clock when he entered, looking pale and worn.  He walked up to the sideboard, and tearing a piece from the loaf, he devoured it voraciously, washing it down with a long draught of water.

"You are hungry," I remarked.

"Starving, it had escaped my memory.  I have had nothing since breakfast."

"Nothing?"

"Not a bite.  I had no time to think of it."

"And how had you succeeded?"

"Well."

"You have no clue?"

"I have them in the hollow of my hand."

"Young Openshaw shall not remain unavenged.  Let us put their own devilish trade-mark upon them.  It is well thought of."

"What you mean?"

He took an orange from the cupboard. Tore it into pieces.  Squeezed out the pips upon the table.  Of these he took five. Thrust them into an envelope.  On the inside of the flap he wrote "S.H. for J.O."  Then he sealed it and addressed it to "Captain James Calhoun, Bark Lone Star, Savannah, Georgia."

"That will await him as he enters the port," said he chuckling.  "It may give him a sleepless night."

"And who is Captain Calhoun?"

"The leader of the gang."

"How did you trace him?"

"I have spent the whole day over Lloyd's Registers to find out the future career of every vessels that touched Pondicherry in January February '83. There were thirty six. One of these, the Lone Star attracted my attention, because of its connection with Texas [12]  It is probable that the ship must have American origin."

"What then?"

"I searched the Dundee records, and found that bark Lone Star was there in January '85.  I inquired as to the vessels at present in the port of London."

"Yes?"

"The Lone Star had arrived here last week.  I went down to the Albert Dock.  She had been taken down the river by the early tide this morning, homeward bound to Savannah.  I wired to Gravesend, and learned that she had passed some time ago, as the wind is easterly.  She must have passed the Goodwins, and not very far from the Isle of Wight."

"What will you do then?"

"I have my hand upon him.  He and his two mates are the only native born Americans in the ship.  By the time their sailing ship reaches Savannah the mail-boat will have carried this letter and the cable will have informed the police of Savannah that these three gentlemen are barely wanted here upon a charge of murder."

"But there is always a flaw in human plans. Very long and severe were the equinoctial gales the year.  We waited long for the news of Lone Star of Savannah, but none ever reached us.  At last the news came that somewhere far out in Atlantic a shattered stern post of boat was seen swinging in the trough of a wave, with letters "L.S." carved upon it, and that is all we ever know the upon fate of the Lone Star.

 ____________________________________

1. William Clark Russel: A British novelist (1844 - 1911) famous for his sea novels

2. Pince-nez: Eye glass held on a person's nose by a spring, rather than by pieces fit round ears.

3. Horsham: A market town in the upper reaches of River Arun. It is forty miles south of London. The same toponym is migrated to US and Australia.

4. Coventry is a cathedral city 110 miles northwest of London, on the River Sherbourne. It is around 21 miles southeast of Birmingham.

5. Florida: A peninsula dividing Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico.  Originally La Florida, meaning Land of Flowers.

A Spanish colony till 1819. And before Spanish occupation, Paleo Indians of Siberian origin crossing Berring land bridge and later, when the bridge was submerged, first landed at Alaska, meaning land facing the sea and later spread to the entire continent.

6. Jackson's Army: Andrew Jackson was an American politician who served as the seventh president of United States. He was in the U.S. army as Major General.

7. Sussex: Previously known as Kingdom of South Saxon or the Kingdom of Sussex.

8. Fordham is a village in Cambridge Shire. It is 71 miles northeast of London and 17 miles northeast of Cambridge.

9. See Google Maps for Fareham. It is between Portsmouth and Southampton 

10. Pondicherry or the Pondi as the natives call it is in the Indian subcontinent. Dundee is in Scotland.  Dundee is made up of two roots - Celtic 'dun' meaning fort and Gaelic  'de' meaning fire.

11. Waterloo: Note that this is not the scene of the Battle of Waterloo where Nepolean was defeated. This is the railway terminus in London.  Interestingly there are around two scores of locations with the same toponym in different nations.  See Wikipedia.

12. Texas and Lone Star:  Texas is known worldwide as the Lone Star State. It originated from the single star adorned by its flag.

End of the Story