Private Life in Britain's Stately Homes (27 page)

Every estate would have its own carpenter. He would have made furniture for the servants’ hall, as well as for the garden. He would probably also have made toys for the children of the house. There might well be an upholsterer too to undertake repairs to furniture. There could be a blacksmith to keep the estate horses shod but also to make iron tyres for horse-drawn vehicles as well as items of decorative ironwork. Out of doors there would be gardeners, gamekeepers and foresters. Coachmen and grooms slept above the stables to be near their charges, and were often in close proximity to the outside laundry, where the maids, according to popular legend, were particularly flirtatious.

The staff outdoors would have to be as large as that inside, for in the days before motorized lawnmowers the upkeep of gardens, parks and grounds would be as labour-intensive as any other aspect of country-house work. A glance at any census return from before the First World War will show how many men were employed as gardeners, or gardeners’ boys, on estates. Grass was cut by scythe or – where the lawns were big enough – by horse-drawn mowers. Flower beds had to be dug and planted, hedges trimmed, kitchen gardens and hothouses tended, for these filled an important role in feeding the household. The work that today could be done by one or two people with mechanical help would have required fifteen or twenty a hundred years ago.

The head gardener, who like the butler was at the top of his profession, was a man of very considerable skill and knowledge, and in a very few cases this could enable him to transcend the place he worked or the class to which he belonged. As has been seen, Joseph Paxton, who was employed by the Duke of Devonshire at Chatsworth, created a greenhouse there that led to the design of London’s Crystal Palace. Paxton became a national celebrity and was knighted by Queen Victoria.

Cleaning was a physically demanding task. To clean a carpet, for instance, meant scattering it with tea leaves and then sweeping them up on hands and knees. Much worse was cleaning the kitchen range, which had to be done first thing each morning before the fire could be set. It had to be blacked first, using a block of black lead. Bits of this were broken off, mixed with water and then brushed on to the grate. The housemaid would keep such implements in her housemaid’s box, a tool kit that went everywhere with her. It contained several brushes specific to this task – one for blacking and one for polishing, as well as leathers and cloths and emery paper for general cleaning. Pots and pans had to be scoured using a mixture of sand, salt, flour and vinegar. The laundry took all week, not only because the community was large but because the amount of clothing worn by all classes was greater, and fussier, than it would be in later decades.

On the first day of the week, household washing was sorted into five piles and left to soak in warm water overnight. On Tuesday they would be attacked for the first time, to remove all stains by scrubbing in hot water. This was done with yellow soap and soda crystals. After rinsing, the items would be inspected to ensure that the stains had gone. If not, they would be dealt with again. The traditional remedies were alcohol (for grass stains), kerosene (for blood), chalk (for grease). Whites were bleached with lemon juice.

On Wednesday, washing would be hung out to dry, either in the open air or in drying rooms. From then on the processes included starching, mangling and ironing. Starching required a paste made from flour and water, and was applied to collars, cuffs, aprons and linen. Mangling would go on for hours, as the big sheets and aprons were passed between rollers to squeeze the water out of them. They would then be dried and put into a linen press. Ironing too was laborious, for the weight of the instrument itself was several pounds, and it was heated on a stand next to the fire. Two or three irons would be kept going at once because as each was used it would lose heat and there always had to be another heating up to replace it.

The hours worked by servants were extremely long, and this was proving to be the biggest deterrent to people entering the profession. By the very nature of what they did, servants had to be at work both early and late. The only time it was possible to clean the house was before the family had come down in the mornings, and therefore the staff had to be up and busy by about six o’clock. Some of them, such as the lamp boy, who cleaned all the boots, might have been busy for some time already. The grates had to be cleaned and new fires laid. Carpets had to be swept, surfaces dusted, furniture polished, and all without making so much noise that the family were disturbed (it would not have been possible to use a vacuum cleaner under these circumstances). At the same time a host of other things had to be in progress. Morning tea was being prepared for those upstairs. Breakfast had to be produced. Though the house was quiet during this time, it was humming with activity.

First up in the morning were the scullery and kitchen maids. They had to get the kitchen range lit and the floor cleaned. The hallboy or lamp boy – their duties were similar and their titles therefore used more or less interchangeably to mean the youngest male servant – was the only other person as busy as they were. He had to ensure that there was enough coal or firewood to last the house for the day, as well as cleaning shoes for both servants and for many of the guests.

By seven, the housekeeper and lady’s maid would have had their tea brought in by housemaids who were also now at work. The butler would have gone through the house opening the shutters and doors. The housemaids would work their way through the rooms, cleaning the grates and lighting fires in them. They would dust and sweep. In the kitchen, any remaining dish-washing, left from the night before, would be dealt with.

During the next hour, food would be assembled for the day’s meals. It would be now that deliveries would start to come in from the estate gardens and from local tradesmen. The servants would be having their breakfast, the table having been laid by the hallboy. As soon as this was finished, the footmen would go to lay the table upstairs for the family’s breakfast. The valet and lady’s maid would then go to see to the needs of their master and mistress.

At about half-past eight there would be family prayers for which family and servants would assemble, in whatever was the largest room. These would last only a few minutes – the servants would have had their breakfast but the family would not, so they would not wish to linger. Nevertheless, this assembly of the entire household would be considered a useful opportunity for them to inspect the servants’ dress and to make any announcements regarding the day’s events. The mistress might receive the cook immediately afterwards to discuss the day’s menus. At the same time the butler would be with the master for a similar meeting. The kitchen maids would have rushed back downstairs to bring up the family’s breakfast.

When this repast was over, the tables must be cleared and all the washing-up dealt with. Since the bedrooms were now empty, they became the next focus of the servants’ attentions. They would be cleaned, and the laundry done.

By mid-morning, preparations for luncheon would be well under way. With so many people to feed – servants, family and guests could easily number sixty or so – the process was extremely time-consuming. Knives would have to be sharpened (by the hallboy) and cutlery polished (by the footmen).

At midday the servants, who perhaps had a short break an hour or so earlier, would sit down to lunch. This was also the time at which the children in the nursery would take their meal. All the attention of the kitchen servants would need to be on the dining room for the main luncheon, served at one o’clock. The butler would preside and carve any meat. The leftovers would go to the servants. The clearing and washing of all the dishes afterwards would take some time.

Once that was over the servants would have a respite. The cook would already be baking for tea, but there would be no cleaning to do at this time – and that was the single biggest blessing for the maids. The footmen would have gone out with their mistress or, if she was expecting callers, they, and the butler, would be waiting upstairs to receive them. The lady’s maid would have been kept busy dressing her mistress for whatever the afternoon’s social events were to be.

Five o’clock was the time established by custom for tea though, in many households, it would take place at four, served in the drawing room, or perhaps out of doors if the weather permitted. Preparations would already be under way for dinner. The same round of vegetable peeling and water-heating would be going on as took place in the morning. The servants would have their evening meal at about half-past five, eating before they served just as restaurant staff do today. The footmen would lay the table upstairs and the butler would inspect everything. Dinner might be of anything from five to eight courses. The butler would, of course, also have decanted the wine.

At seven, the ladies would go upstairs to bathe and dress formally, attended by their maids. This would be a brief interlude only, for dinner would be served at eight, yet ladies would have their hair brushed and styled. A gong would have been sounded as the signal to both men and women to retire to their rooms to dress, and another would announce that the meal was ready. When they arrived in the dining room they would find the first course awaiting them.

Downstairs, the servants would have their own supper once the fetching and carrying for those upstairs was finished, so that both parties would for once in the day be eating at the same time. Again, this interlude would not be lengthy, for the dining table would have to be cleared and the washing of dishes performed again. By about ten o’clock the room would be empty because the ladies would have retired to the drawing room and the men to the smoking room or library. By ten o’clock also the servants would normally be in bed if they had no remaining duties.

The cook and housekeeper, having made sure that the final chores were done, could retire, provided there was no further demand for anything to eat. The butler had to stay up until everyone else had gone upstairs because he had the responsibility for locking all doors and windows and of making sure fires were not left burning. He might have to get by on only a few hours’ sleep, since he would have to be up very early the next morning.

Dinner was the most important meal of the day upstairs, and was conducted formally no matter how few diners there were. People always dressed up for it, and silver would be used. It would consist of five or six courses at least, with more during a dinner party. The butler carved, and footmen served, offering vegetables separately to each diner. Any other servant could also be roped in to help, though coach-house staff had to lose all stable smells beforehand.

It would be usual for a hostess to hold a dinner party twice a week, though this was more the case in town than in the country, where suitable guests were less numerous. The leftovers would, as usual, be devoured by the servants the next day. The additional staff who were sometimes required for larger entertainments were brought in from restaurants or other outside businesses, but were generally thought to be unsatisfactory. The best supplementary staff were ‘servants out of place’, who would know how to behave properly. A butler would usually have enough professional contacts to find suitable young men. Dinner parties were planned about three weeks ahead.

Guests would be invited that far ahead (it was later to become five or six weeks) and a reply would be expected at once. The guests would arrive fifteen minutes before the time stated. Footmen would take their coats and the butler would announce their arrival in the drawing room, where their hosts would be waiting. Dinner was not served until the last guest had arrived. As usual, the first course would be waiting for them in the dining room. They would go in at eight o’clock, and each man would be paired with a woman. They sat in chairs that were pulled out for them by footmen but their backs never touched these, for they sat bolt upright.

At a dinner such as these eight or ten courses would be served, several of which involved choices, just as they would in a restaurant. Soups were of course the first things brought to the table, and would be served with sherry. The second course would be fish. The entrée would probably be a meat course with cutlets or sweetbreads. This would be followed by the relevée, or main course, which would be meat or poultry. A game course of duck, pheasant or partridge would follow. This was always accompanied by game chips, which were fried potatoes sliced very thin. After this came the ices and desserts, but only once the table had been cleared and laid with fresh cutlery and glasses.

The final course was fruit and nuts, with which port and Madeira arrived. It was at this stage that the ladies retired, to have coffee in the drawing room. The men remained, and were now able to smoke. The butler would continue to hover in case anything further were needed, and the servants would remain on duty until the last guest had either gone home or up to bed, and the hosts had also retired. A good hostess would be concerned that her staff should not be kept out of bed too late. Be this as it may, she would not think of allowing them to sleep late the next morning by way of compensation. The day’s tasks had to be performed on time regardless. It would be even more arduous work during the Season, for at balls supper often did not begin until midnight.

With shooting parties there was a similarly early start. Packed luncheon had to be made in readiness, and the kitchen was therefore busy from dawn.

By the end of Victoria’s reign, the notion of a household boasting large numbers of costumed and liveried servants was becoming an anachronism. Throughout history the number of servants employed in a great house was viewed as evidence of the owner’s prestige, and the sight of men in gorgeous livery standing about the halls and corridors, was intended to impress visitors while at the same time swelling the ranks of the servants’ hall. By the beginning of the twentieth century, however, there was no need for such men. The telephone and the servants’ bell had made part of their function redundant, and there was in any case a sense of make-believe or pantomime about the use of uniformed servants by those whose own status or background lay outside the traditional aristocracy, with no previous history of employing footmen. If your family had had such servants for generations you could be forgiven for merely carrying on custom. In
parvenus
the practice was considered risible. There was no reason, no excuse, for such ostentation, especially when the general public was as aware as the aristocracy itself that the heyday of this way of life was passing.