Sophie Remembered
Earlier I made mention that Denham Hall was originally the ancestral home of the Second Sea Lord of the Admiralty and 3rd Duke of Sussex Lord Horatio Grantham, and that he might have made First Sea Lord if it was not due to a careless, impetuous indiscretion, with little or no heed to the resulting consequences, with the daughter of the First Sea Lord, young Esmeralda.
When Lord Horatio Grantham died Denham Hall was bought by a group of wealthy and influential business people and converted into a college for genteel young ladies whose parents were men and women of wealth and influence.
Nearly 200 years on a strange event occurred when Jessica Wyndham of Boadicea Dormitory told Elspeth, when she was placed in the infirmary for observation by Nurse Mayo after throwing up in class after eating mushrooms although I suspect it was toadstools, of the evenings when she occasionally spoke to a young girl who she did not recognize who sat on the end of her bed after lights out and told stories of times of Denham Hall of old.
She wore an old fashioned expensive lace nightie and an embroidered lace bed cap. Not much heed was paid to this story as Nurse Mayo thought Jessica might have been hallucinating. Nevertheless, Jessica said the girl's name was Sophie and she was adamant she spoke to her.
Miss Pringle reminded Miss Sefton there was a grave in the chapel grounds of a young girl named Sophie Rochefort, the daughter of a Sea Captain, who died nearly 200 years earlier of meningitis. Miss Sefton said she would make further investigations.
The marble headstone of the grave read ‘In loving memory of Sophie Rochefort beloved daughter of Lord and Lady Rochefort cruelly taken from us at such a tender age. Born 1825 Died 1835. Little Sophie thou art in heaven. You are now in God’s care.” (Without wanting to appear disrespectful it appears she isn’t, as she still roams the corridors of Denham Hall’s west wing, to be precise).
Sophie’s young body was interred in a grave in a quiet corner of the chapel grounds under a mulberry tree. As Tamsin pointed out, her body is not at rest when she continues to roam the empty corridors every night and Tamsin is right most of the time.
There was much discussion about this event and taking Jessica’s account at face value Miss Sefton said she would approach the governors to arrange to affix a small marble commemorative plaque on the wall in the corridor of the west wing, including attaching a small flower holder to hold posies for the girls to occasionally leave a flower, in respect and in remembrance of young Sophie.
Bearing in mind it was the parents of foundation girls like Sophie’s that created Denham Hall in the first place, we thought it was a really lovely fitting gesture by Miss Sefton and Miss Pringle and the girls did not hesitate to tell them so. The plaque would also be a tangible reminder of the history of the college. Questions would be asked by visitors who sighted the plaque. ‘Who was Sophie?’ She will never be forgotten but always be part of Denham Hall’s history.
Knowing just who Mr Crisis was and from whence he originated, the girls asked him if he could do something to help poor Sophie be put to rest, like permanently. Mr Crisis told the girls he will definitely NOT encourage Sophie to leave. He reminded us that Denham Hall is her home too and has been for many years and she will leave when she is ready. We did not question Mr Crisis.
We have our fair share of departed souls that have not quite made it to the other side who wander the corridors of my home at Inveraray Castle. It is these souls with whom Mrs Dalrymple, a neighbour and friend of mothers and medium, has tried many times to attempt to start up a conversation with, but lacked any serious response or co-operation. Mrs Dalrymple needs to understand at these séances a ‘sign or a signal’ is not good enough. These ‘departed souls’ might much prefer a full-on conversation.
I am not hinting that mother would expect them to appear on cue to entertain visitors at social evenings or anything like that, or that the Harpist Wraith that is said to haunt Inveraray Castle would be brought out to perform a couple of numbers to charm the visitors.
I should mention it was mother’s eccentricity that was a contributing factor to father’s attraction to her in the first place. It could also explain why Mrs Dalrymple is a close friend of mothers, and I could be blessed with, or plagued with, mother’s genes so I will not dwell too much on the ‘departed ones’.
Tonight Mrs Dalrymple had been invited to tea and drinks by mother. No séances this evening but tarot cards instead. Father had invited over to Colonel and Lady Carter-Brown of Ruthin Castle for the evening and Tamsin, who was my regular weekend guest, and I was hoping to have a musical evening.
We left the adults in the drawing room and settled in the saloon where the grand piano stood. A guitar had been rustled up for Tamsin. It was well out of tune and would keep her tuning for quite a while. Tamsin’s repertoire was not helped by only knowing three chords that Nathan had taught her at the Rickmansworth Folk Club. He had hoped this little liaison might firm up his association with Tamsin into more of a ‘unit’ or ‘item’ and less of a relationship. It did not work.
Chopin’s Etudes Op 10, Op 90, Op 25, Oh and No 3 all remained in the piano seat but thirty or so choruses of ‘Where Have All the Flowers Gone’ and ‘Kumbaya’ was quite a heavy workload for the evening. On returning to the drawing room no-one had died due to Mrs Dalrymple’s choice of tarot cards, which was a relief all round. Personally, if I were Mrs Dalrymple I would have put the Death Card in a drawer somewhere. She does not want that turning up when someone with a weak heart comes looking for love at a reading.
It was Monday morning back at college.
It was Miss Pringle “Now Girls, while Jessica was in the infirmary she was at times possibly hallucinating. It could be that during a hallucination it might put us in touch with the paranormal, who knows, and Jessica there is no need to go traipsing the corridors of the west wing after lights out looking for young Sophie to inform her about this decision to place a commemorative plaque there. She will know”. There was some giggling from the girls as eyes swiveled round to Jessica.
“Right girls books out, Medieval History”.
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