It was from her that I got my longings for the
romantic.
She used to tell me a good deal about her father, who must have been a
wonderful man in many ways. What she told me was not like a sketch of
his life, which I wish it had been, but mostly anecdotes of what he
said and did. So it was my mother's ancestral tree I determined to
find, and without saying whether it was on my mother's or father's side
I was searching for ancestors, I told Mr. Brandish that Dork was the
family name.
"Dork," said he; "a rather uncommon name, isn't it? Was your father
the eldest son of a family of that name?"
Now I was hoping he wouldn't say anything about my father.
"No, sir," said I; "it isn't that line that I am looking up. It is my
mother's. Her name was Dork before she was married."
"Really! Now I see," said he, "you have the paternal line all correct,
and you want to look up the line on the other side. That is very
common; it is so seldom that one knows the line of ancestors on one's
maternal side. Dork, then, was the name of your maternal grandfather."
It struck me that a maternal grandfather must be a grandmother, but I
didn't say so.
"Can you tell me," said he, "whether it was he who emigrated from this
country to America, or whether it was his father or his grandfather?"
Now I hadn't said anything about the United States, for I had learned
there was no use in wasting breath telling English people I had come
from America, so I wasn't surprised at his question, but I couldn't
answer it.
"I can't say much about that," I said, "until I have found out
something about the English branches of the family."
"Very good," said he. "We will look over the records," and he took down
a big book and turned to the letter D. He ran his finger down two or
three pages, and then he began to shake his head.
"Dork?" said he. "There doesn't seem to be any Dork, but here is
Dorkminster. Now if that was your family name we'd have it all here. No
doubt you know all about that family. It's a grand old family, isn't
it? Isn't it possible that your grandfather or one of his ancestors may
have dropped part of the name when he changed his residence to
America?"
Now I began to think hard; there was some reason in what the
family-tree-man said. I knew very well that the same family name was
often different in different countries, changes being made to suit
climates and people.
"Minster has a religious meaning, hasn't it?" said I.
"Yes, madam," said he; "it relates to cathedrals and that sort of
thing."
Now, so far as I could remember, none of the things my mother had ever
told me about her father was in any ways related to religion. They was
mostly about horses; and although there is really no reason for the
disconnection between horses and religion, especially when you consider
the hymns with heavenly chariots in them must have had horses, it
didn't seem to me that my grandfather could have made it a point of
being religious, and perhaps he mightn't have cared for the cathedral
part of his name, and so might have dropped it for convenience in
signing, probably being generally in a hurry, judging from what my
mother had told me. I said as much to Mr. Brandish, and he answered
that he thought it was likely enough, and that that sort of thing was
often done.
"Now, then," said he, "let us look into the Dorkminster line and trace
out your connection with that. From what place did your ancestors
come?"
It seemed to me that he was asking me a good deal more than he was
telling me, and I said to him: "That is what I want to find out. What
is the family home of the Dorkminsters?"
"Oh, they were a great Hampshire family," said he. "For five hundred
years they lived on their estates in Hampshire. The first of the name
was Sir William Dorkminster, who came over with the Conqueror, and most
likely was given those estates for his services. Then we go on until we
come to the Duke of Dorkminster, who built a castle, and whose brother
Henry was made bishop and founded an abbey, which I am sorry to say
doesn't now exist, being totally destroyed by Oliver Cromwell."
You cannot imagine how my blood leaped and surged within me as I
listened to those words. William the Conqueror! An ancestral abbey! A
duke! "Is the family castle still standing?" said I.
"It fell into ruins," said he, "during the reign of Charles I., and
even its site is now uncertain, the park having been devoted to
agricultural purposes. The fourth Duke of Dorkminster was to have
commanded one of the ships which destroyed the Spanish Armada, but was
prevented by a mortal fever which cut him off in his prime; he died
without issue, and the estates passed to the Culverhams of Wilts."
"Did that cut off the line?" said I, very quick.
"Oh, no," said the family-tree man, "the line went on. One of the
duke's younger sisters must have married a man on condition that he
took the old family name, which is often done, and her descendants must
have emigrated somewhere, for the name no longer appears in Hampshire;
but probably not to America, for that was rather early for English
emigration."
"Do you suppose," said I, "that they went to Scotland?"
"Very likely," said he, after thinking a minute; "that would be
probable enough.
