The Lost Ancestor

in a warm shard ofsunlight, which cut through the glass front.  But for an elderly couplequeuing at the till, the tearoom was deserted.  Sipping on his drink,Morton began to read the Blackfriars guidebook.  He quickly learnt thatthe Mansfields had resided here since shortly after the Dissolution of theMonasteries, when they were gifted the property and the title Earl of Rothbornefrom Henry VIII.  At the centre of the guidebook was a pull-outgenealogical chart of the Mansfield family.  The current owner andtitle-holder was Milton Francis Mansfield, Earl of Rothborne, who had inheritedthe property from his father, George Richard Mansfield.  Morton studiedthe chart carefully: during Mary Mercer’s time at Blackfriars, the property washeld by Cecil and Philadelphia Mansfield.  Morton flipped to the indexpage and searched for further references to Cecil and Lady Philadelphia;predictably, there were several, as their tenure at Blackfriars neatlycoincided with the period portrayed in The Friary.  Morton went tothe first reference and found a photo of the couple alongside a similar modernimage of the actors playing Lord and Lady Asquith in The Friary.  Theaccompanying information wove a potted history between the Mansfields and theAsquiths, largely, it seemed to Morton, where interesting contrasts andcomparisons could be drawn.

Morton tucked the guidebook away in hisbag, intending to finish reading it later, and left the tearoom to get a betterfeel for the whole estate.  He followed the gravel footpath and slowlymeandered through a patchwork of tall pines, low rhododendrons and greatswathes of tidy grass upon which a sprinkling of visitors werepicnicking.  The path turned and opened out onto a large lake in the shapeof a pinched oval.  It was filled with lilypads and bordered by a varietyof plants, flowers and trees whose low-slung branches dangled inches from thewater’s surface.  Morton felt compelled to take a seat on one of severalbenches slightly set back from the path facing the water.  He sat andwatched as a small flock of Canada geese pushed off from the water andelegantly flew off into the distance.  Across the water stood a charming,evocative and slightly dilapidated boathouse.  The gabled, woodenstructure gave Morton the impression of an ancient church, swallowed up by themurky depths, leaving only the peak still visible.  He guessed that theboathouse was once used by the Mansfields to access a tall cylindrical stonebuilding situated on a small island in the centre of the lake.  Thebuilding had no windows, only an arched wooden door.  Curious to know moreabout the strange building, Morton opened his guidebook and read that the towerwas a folly, serving no useful purpose.  Inside, a metal staircase rose tothe top, giving an unobstructed view of the formal rose gardens and Koi fishpond further down the estate.  It had been built in the 1850s and so wascertainly here during Mary’s time as a housemaid.

Morton continued his journey around theperiphery of the lake, sauntering slowly and enjoying the fresh air and warmthfrom the hot sun.  The path took him past a Victorian heather-coveredice-house and into the orchard, which contained an array of traditional Englishapple, pear and plum trees.  Close to the path by which he had enteredBlackfriars were the ruins of the oldest part of the abbey.  The guidebookinformed him that it was the ruins of a thirteenth century Franciscanchapel.  Morton entered the ruins—just two stone walls and two arches wereall that remained.  With little else to see, Morton made his way back tothe main path to leave.  The quickest route back to the car would be theback path which he had taken to get here, but Morton decided to leave via thefront entrance, just to get a different perspective on the estate.

The main road into Blackfriars was heavingwith cars, coaches and pedestrians, such was the popularity of The Friary; Morton,the only person heading in the opposite direction, was like a determinedsalmon, fighting its way upstream.  Finally, he reached the main road,Monk’s Walk, and turned right towards the church.

Winchelsea church, dedicated to St Thomasthe Martyr, had always seemed out of keeping to Morton, incongruous in thesmall town, as it was originally built to cathedral proportions.  Only thechancel of the original church still existed, following years of ravaging raidsby the French and Spanish.  Like most of the town, the church sat in aneat square parcel of land.  As Morton entered the churchyard, a coolbreeze rose around the monstrous church buttresses.  He pulled on hisjumper and began to search the churchyard for the Mercer family grave.

Despite knowing the age of the graves forwhich he was searching, Morton still conducted a meticulous search, intendingto log any instances where the Mercer name cropped up.  In the event,there was only one grave with that name.  After fifteen minutes of searching,he found it on the south-east side of the church.  Weathered grey withspots of orange lichen, the grave was slightly tilted, but otherwise legibleand in good condition.

Morton took several photographs of thegrave and also jotted down the inscription.  In loving memory ofKatherine Mercer, born 2^nd March 1870, died 8^th December1932.  A wonderful mother and wife.  Also, Thomas Mercer, husband ofthe above, born 21^st April 1870, died 1^st November1938.  A small open book made of stone had been added to the grave andsummarised the life of one of their daughters: Edith Leyden (née Mercer)1893-1962.

Here they were, a small splinter of theirfractured family, gone to the grave with no knowledge of Mary’swhereabouts.  Morton’s thoughts turned to what Ray had told him about Maryreturning for her sister’s funeral.  She had stood here, on this very spotin 1962.  He wondered if that had been her first visit to Winchelsea since1911.  What kept you away, Mary? Morton thought to himself,wrangling with the seemingly unanswerable question.  Why did you onlycome back when all of your family were dead and buried?  Morton’s gazeturned to the enormous church but his mind was firmly on Mary.  She haddisappeared without trace in 1911, never showing up again on official documents. The most obvious and likely scenario was that she had changed hername.  The chances of her legally changing her name and leaving apaper trail were not likely but still needed investigating.  Morton knewthat it was perfectly