Chapter 4: Family History

"Tremethyk House was originally built in 1630 by a branch of the Ellingham family which moved down to Cornwall from Yorkshire where the Ellinghams originated. They made their fortune in tin and copper mining. In the early 18th Century, John Ellingham was created the first baronet Tremethyk Ellingham, and his heirs were known by that double name ever since."

Ruth was reading aloud from her handwritten notes from the back seat of the Lexus, sitting next to the children in their car seats as the family drove out to see the house for the first time. "I did some research and it jogged my memory about family lore I hadn't thought about in a long time."

"The 13th baronet, Sir Charles Tremethyk Ellingham, was my great-uncle," she explained. "My grandfather was his younger brother, Harold Ellingham. Sir Matthew was the 14th baronet, so my father Henry, after whom young James Henry here is partly named, was first cousin to Matthew. I don't know if you followed all of that, so I made a genealogy chart."

She handed the chart to Louisa in the front passenger seat.

"It's good to see the women included here," Louisa said, looking it over.

"Yes, they do tend to be overlooked in these matters," Ruth agreed. "Anyway, Matthew was an only child and he never married. I sort of remember my grandmother saying he was a difficult man who once was engaged but left his bride waiting at the church. He also studied chemistry at Imperial College London but his father wouldn't let him pursue it as a vocation. He insisted his son was a gentleman who had to devote himself to running the estate and being active in local society, fox hunting and shooting pheasants, that sort of thing. Matthew, however, wasn't in the least interested in those pursuits."

Martin grunted his agreement from the driver's seat. "Can't say I blame him, sounds ghastly."

"From all accounts, Matthew was more of a scholarly disposition and preferred to spend time in the chemistry lab he built for himself at Tremethyk House once his father was gone and he could do what he liked. Of course, he ended up living to a very old age and likely hasn't been active in anything for quite a while."

"My father knew that Christopher was likely to end up as Matthew's heir so he made sure to keep in contact and good graces with him," Ruth continued. "I think Christopher loved the idea that he would inherit a title, but I don't think he cared about the property. Honestly, I think if he had gotten hold of it he would have just managed to sell it all off to some hotel chain or holiday camp developer. Probably would have invested the money poorly and lost most of it too. But he didn't get it in the end. And as we know, against the odds Matthew managed to outlive him. So now you, Martin, his first cousin twice removed, have the honour of being the 15th Baronet Tremethyk Ellingham."

"It's exhausting keeping track of all that," Louisa said. "My paternal grandfather ran a betting shop, and my father, well…"

"The less said about him the better," Martin commented.

"Yes, thank you for that, Martin," she replied dryly. "Both sides of my family would certainly be very surprised to hear me referred to as Lady Anything."

Ruth chuckled and went on. "As for the name Tremethyk, it means 'doctor's residence' in Cornish, very appropriate. The Ellinghams have a long history as physicians, going back as far as serving James I in that capacity."

Martin was busy following the GPS as it led them on a long country road gradually ascending up a hill, then to a set of ornate iron gates, which had been left open for them. Then it was a further drive through a wooded landscape. Finally, they arrived in front of the house itself. The three adults sat looking at the elegant Victorian stone edifice for a moment, a bit overwhelmed.

"It's… it's beautiful," Louisa finally said. Martin grunted his approval. 'Just as I remembered it," Ruth said.

"I want to go inside," said James, struggling to get out of his car seat.

The front door opened and a man in his 70s, dressed in formal butler attire, came out to meet them. He introduced himself as Mr. Robinson and greeted them in turn as Sir Martin, Lady Ellingham, Dr. Ellingham, Master James, and finally, with great formality, Little Miss Mary, as he helped Louisa set up the buggy and get the baby settled in it.

He ushered them in through the entrance and into a grand hallway, where he introduced an elderly woman waiting there as his wife, Mrs. Robinson, the cook/housekeeper. "We looked after Sir Matthew and Tremethyk House for almost 50 years," the butler explained proudly. "My father was the butler here before me, and I began my service here as an under butler so my memories of Tremethyk House go back quite a way. It's an honour to meet you and your family, Sir Martin, and to see you carry on the family name."

"Are you both really able to do all the work needed to keep this house going?" Martin asked, looking sceptically at the elderly couple.

"Oh yes, sir," the butler replied. "There used to be quite a large staff here in Sir Matthew's father's day, but it gradually dwindled over the years. Sir Matthew lived a rather simple life, despite having a grand house."

"We did have a maid service from the village come in and help with the housekeeping for a while, but in recent years Sir Matthew didn't like having strangers around so the service was discontinued," Mrs. Robinson explained. "Most of the house has been closed off for years anyway, and the furniture kept covered."

"Perhaps the maid service can be brought in again to get things opened back up," Louisa suggested. Martin nodded his agreement. The Robinsons obviously appreciated the idea. Louisa noted the elderly couple seemed genuinely pleased to welcome this new branch of the family to the house.

The butler escorted them to the dining room, where his wife had prepared a luncheon. The room was high vaulted, with walnut panelling and a 15 foot long table set with fine china and silver. Martin was seated at the head of the table, with the other two adults and two children seated by him, leaving most of the table bare. Louisa was bemused by how absurdly large it was for a small family and the thought of the elderly Sir Matthew dining alone here for every meal. Mrs. Robinson helped her set up the portable high chair and baby food they had brought for Mary.

Louisa was slightly disappointed to see the meal consisted of seafood, rice, and vegetables, plainly prepared, with no wine available and no dessert. James was used to seafood, but she was glad she remembered to bring some of his favourite biscuits to keep him happy.

"Sir Matthew preferred to eat healthy and not vary his diet much," Mrs. Robinson explained. "He also didn't drink alcohol, as it made him fall asleep. We do have a wine cellar. I'll have to take stock of what's down there, as we haven't had any call for it in quite some time"

Martin very much approved of his relative's habits. "It likely contributed to his longevity," he said.

"Yes of course, but perhaps I could work with Mrs. Robinson to update the menu just a bit to something more varied and child-friendly," Louisa suggested, tactfully. Fortunately, the cook was very open to making changes.

After lunch, Mr. Robinson led them on a tour of the house. They went through the long main hallway, where Ruth reminisced about running about with Joan. "Cousin Matthew didn't like the commotion we were causing. He was rather an eccentric man. I remember he kept referring to Joan as Jane and to me as Rose, and once for some reason he called me Gillian."

"Sir Matthew believed children should be seen and not heard, certainly in his later years. He could also be a bit forgetful when it came to names," Mr. Robinson said.

He took them through the ground floor's east wing, explaining that the west wing, which contained a ballroom and older sections of the house had been unused and closed off for decades, after having served as a hospital during both world wars. The east wing was extensively remodelled in the late 19th Century, after a fire destroyed most of it, and the whole house was now considered a Grade II historic building.

"Yes, I remember hearing that when we visited," Ruth said. "The lady of the house then, Agnes Ellingham, invited her young sister Caroline Davies to stay here after their parents died. Caroline perished in the fire, she was only 20 years old. Agnes and her husband were so distraught over her death and the damage to the house they moved to London and never came back. Undoubtedly that added to the house's reputation of being haunted."

Mr. Robinson nodded. "It was their son who undertook the rebuilding and today the house is considered a classic of high Victorian architecture. And yes, some guests in the past have occasionally reported odd phenomenon, an unexplained chill in the air, a mysterious grey lady in a window, the odour of cigar smoke without cause, that sort of thing. Mrs. Robinson and I haven't experienced anything of the sort and, to the best of my knowledge, neither did Sir Matthew."

"Hm." Martin expressed his scepticism. "I should hope not."

Louisa's favourite part of the tour was the library, with its dark walnut-panelled walls and richly gilded and painted ceiling, and rows and rows of shelves with antique books of all sorts. She also enjoyed the long gallery, with its carved plaster ceiling, where the walls were adorned with portraits of family members from over the generations, including a double portrait of Agnes and Caroline in pastel silk ball gowns. "How lovely they were," she said. "And how sad Caroline died so young."

Louisa noted the prevalence of blonde hair and light coloured eyes among the Ellinghams. She stopped in front of Sir Matthew's portrait, which depicted a tall man in his 30s, posed in a stiff upright bearing, with pale blue-grey eyes and close cropped hair that exposed his rather prominent ears. She thought that must have been what Martin would have looked like if she had met him when he was younger.

"He's just as I remembered him," Ruth commented, looking up at the portrait. "His father died relatively young so he inherited his title early and became rather reclusive. And I seem to recall his mother lived here too when we visited. She had dinner with us at that same long table where we had lunch but she and her son barely spoke to each other."

Mr. Robinson was clearly too discreet to gossip openly, but he nodded. "The late dowager Lady Ellingham and Sir Matthew usually dined separately. They preferred, er… little contact with each other." Changing the subject, he noted the plain silver urn on a table beneath the portrait. "Sir Matthew's ashes. He was a man of simple tastes."

Glancing at his watch, he added, "we're just in time for the Clock Room."

He led them into the drawing room, furnished with dark Victorian furniture and oriental carpets, where as soon as they stepped inside, at the stroke of 2 o'clock, a number of antique clocks of all sorts begin to chime. Louisa thought it was deafening but Martin was enchanted and James looked up at the many clock faces in awe. The butler confirmed that Sir Matthew was very fond of clocks and enjoyed repairing them as a hobby.

"Are we going to live here now, Mummy?" James asked, his pale blue-grey eyes opened wide, as the last chime faded away.

"Well, I don't know, James. You'll have to ask Daddy what he thinks," she replied, looking at Martin and addressing her thoughts to him. "Fern Cottage is a bit cramped for us now. We did talk about looking for a larger house, and this one just fell into our laps. It's close enough to Portwenn that you could commute to the surgery and James could maybe continue going to school in Portwenn. There's plenty of room for the children, and I could even set up my counselling practice here."

"It's premature to make any decisions," Martin said. "Right now the main thing is to assess what sort of shape this place is in.

Mr. Robinson took them upstairs through the many bedrooms, the nursery, the servants' attic quarters, the various staircases, and the kitchen, which was in a more modern annex in back. The annex also contained a cosy ground floor apartment, where the Robinsons lived so they could avoid constantly having to go up and down stairs.

"That's the whole of the east wing, except for the basement," he concluded. "There is some storage space down there, plus the wine cellar, and a chemistry lab Sir Matthew set up for himself."

"I think we can explore that for ourselves another time," Martin said. 'I can see there are areas of neglect. Certainly with Sir Matthew's advanced age, and that of yourself and your wife, it must have been difficult to keep up with things in recent years."

"The housekeeping service will certainly help, sir. The roof and the plumbing are mostly in good shape," Mr. Robinson replied. "I'm afraid the same can't be said for the furnace. The house is rather draughty and the 50-year-old furnace can't keep up. It can also get a bit musty in summer. The electrical wiring is also rather unreliable as well."

Martin promised to get workmen in to modernize the utilities. "Now let's see what sort of shape the grounds are in."

Mr. Robinson took them out to through the drawing room's French doors to explore the grounds. The house sat on 450 acres, mostly woodland but with an extensive garden, he explained. It was all rather overgrown now since the landscaping service was discontinued, as Sir Matthew in his latter years didn't like the noise they created. Martin agreed to bring them back in also.

They followed him up a gentle sloping paved path leading to a hillside behind the house. He pointed out the extensive selection of ornamental trees and shrubs, along with an herb garden surrounding an old stone sun dial. "And of course, there's the Neolithic monument, known as the Meyn-an-Methyk."

"That means the Doctor's Stones, something like that I think," Louisa said.

"Indeed, Lady Ellingham," he said, leading them to a clearing where two upright granite posts stood, each about a meter high. In between there was a round granite stone of the same height, with a large circular hole in the middle. "Legend says the round stone has healing properties. The monument long predates the house itself, and it's unknown if the hole is a natural formation or deliberately carved."

"Hm, probably began as a natural weathered flaw in the stone that was then enlarged to cater to local superstition," Martin commented.

"Well, this place is just fascinating in so many ways," Louisa said. At that point, baby Mary, who had been sleeping peacefully in her buggy after lunch, began to wake up and fuss. "We'll go say goodbye to Mrs. Robinson and then it's time for us to be getting back."

To be continued…