Dot has helped Mr Holmes to try to catch whoever’s making the weird sights and sounds round Dendringham Hall – and they’ve found their first clue. She got her dress all messed up though, and Miss Walsingham was not happy with her. She was ready for a good night’s sleep!
It was morning at Dendringham Hall, and the sun streamed in through a crack in the thick red curtains of Dot’s bedroom.
Dot opened her eyes and yawned. She had to admit, it was totally all right being a girl in the Victorian times – if you were in a family as rich as the d’Auberleys. She’d had a fantastic supper with Miss Walsingham the night before, a really spicy curry served on silver trays – and then she’d gone straight to bed, tired out.
But her bedroom! It was MEGA – the size of the front room and the dining room at home in Barking Avenue put together – and it had thick, soft carpet on the floor and lots of dark heavy furniture.
Like a chest of drawers that came up to her chin and had EIGHT drawers, and next to it a big cupboard with a mirror on the front, all carved and decorated with fruits and flowers and birds. Some of the carving was so realistic you expected to be able to pick an apple from it, or watch a bird fly away.
Mum would have LOVED to see that, thought Dot, looking at it from her bed and yawning.
And then she thought – maybe she has! Maybe all this furniture is still in Dendringham Hall today, and you can come and see it!
She snuggled down a bit more in her bed. She’d nearly had to jump up to get into it, the mattress was so thick, and it was a bit like being in a tent because it had curtains and posts at each corner which held up a thick, heavy kind of carpet thing above her head.
What was it called? A tapas – no, they were Spanish nibblies! A… a… a tapestry, that was it!
It was all embroidered with a hunting scene, showing ladies riding side saddle and gentlemen on their horses in peaked caps with feathers in, wearing kind of short jackets with BIG sleeves hanging down – and tights! Also shoes with very long pointy toes. There were dogs too, and hunstmen following them on foot, and what looked like a wolf trying to get away. Hope he did, thought Dot.
Now where had she seen those clothes before…? Oh yes! When she’d net-voyaged back in time to the court of King Henry VIII, and met the young Princess Elizabeth who became Elizabeth I! And nearly got stuck there forever because the King wanted her to be in charge of all his music (or musicke, as they said in those days!) *
Knock knock!
“Er… come in!” said Dot a bit nervously. Who could that be?
“Good morning, Miss Dorothea!”
In came a young woman all dressed in black, with a white apron, lace collar and cuffs, and a shiny black sash tight around her waist. She was pretty and quite short, with glowing red cheeks and big green eyes – and red hair! She was carrying some big fluffy white towels and a jug of hot water.
Great, thought Dot - at last I’m not the only redhead!
“I’m your chambermaid, miss” the young woman said, smiling and curtseying. “My name is Rosie. I shall be taking care of you while you’re staying here at the hall with us. Would you like your bath now?”
“Er yes, thank you” said Dot. It felt really funny to have someone looking after her like this. She could see another dress laid lout for her – red and green tartan this time, with a little jacket in the same material. And what looked like VERY thick stockings and another pair of those A-NNOY-ING buttoned boots. PANTS! (Oh, and those too. They were ENORMOUS! And a vest to
match. )
“Where’s the bathroo- ”
“All right then, I’ll just fill up!” said Rosie. With a whoosh she poured the hot water jug into a strange white thing Dot had seen in front of the fire – it looked a bit like one of those plastic chairs were so cool in the 1960’s, but now Dot realized it was what they used to call a hip bath. Oh NO!
“Ermm…” she began, but Rosie was to busy too notice. “”I’ll just go and get the rest of the water!” she said, bustling out.
Well, it wasn’t the kind of bath Dot was used to, but as she was drying herself afterwards, she had to admit it had been rather nice. It was toasty warm in front of the wood fire in the hearth, and there had been some sweet-smelling soap (made out of sandalwood, Rosie had said) – and a strange long sponge called a loofah which was very good for scrubbing your back.
Rosie came in to help her get dressed when she was dry, and the tartan dress didn’t look too bad. And then she took Dot’s hair out of its bunches and started to brush it.
And then things got really interesting.
Because in those days, the servants in a big place like Dendringham Hall knew everything about what was going on – however well their lords and masters thought they were keeping their secrets!
“I think that Mr Holmes has got his work cut out!” said Rosie. Brush, brush, brush she went. It felt nice. “He’s what they call a private investigator. Come all the way from London to help out with all these goings-on, scaring the life out of Lady Sarah and all the guests it’s been. But he don’t seem to be getting anywhere!”
Brush, brush, brush.
“Meant to have another gentleman with him, name of Watson. Usually helps him out. But he’s a doctor, got patients to care for so he couldn’t come down. Sir Charles was cross about that, he was. But he gets cross about everything!”
Brush, brush, brush.
“What do you think is happening?” asked Dot.
“Ooh well, that’d be telling” said Rosie – in a voice that suggested that
was exactly what she was about to do!
Brush, brush, brush.
“Well… they do say that in the olden days, there was a bad man who was lord of the manor here at the hall. Black Sir Crispin he was called – back in the time of good Queen Bess, it was.”
How funny thought Dot. Queen Bess – that was Queen Elizabeth I. Wonder what Rosie would say if she knew I’d met her in cyberspace!
“Anyways, he was up to all kinds of no good” said Rosie. Her voice had gone very serious. “Awful cruel to his poor wife, Lady Alice, he was. And to his servants. Used to gamble all his money away, spent it on drink and that. And then he’d trick innocent folks who was passing by to stay the night at the hall – and if he thought they had money with ‘em, he’d make an end of them while they slept and take it all! Terrible!”
Brush, brush, brush.
“Then… they do say he’d bury their bodies in the park… there’s parts where no flowers’ll grow even now, not even in the spring. But no-one’s ever dared dig them up to find out.”
Brush, brush. And then Rosie stopped.
“But then… one day… Black Sir Crispin met a terrible end, himself!”
* See Dot and King Henry VIII.
