Which room to rush to?
A Day in the
Life of a
Country House
THE WORKING DAY was an incredibly long one for Edwardian servants; they were on the go from dawn until bedtime. The house needed to be cleaned and the fires lit before the family rose and most were unable to retire until the master and mistress were in bed, or had instructed them they were no longer needed.
‘These people worked from the moment they got up in the morning until they went to bed at night,’ explains Downton Abbey consultant Alastair Bruce. ‘Underlining that there wasn’t really time off in the way that we expect today. There is constant activity. It’s quite a juxtaposition, the frantic activity downstairs, delivering the calm, peace, serenity of the family who are living in the house.’
Each house ran to a different timetable and Margaret Thomas remembered one Yorkshire home where the second housemaid ‘had to be downstairs at 4 a.m. every morning to get the sitting room done before breakfast. The second housemaid had a medal room to keep clean, where the medals were set out in steel cases, and had to be polished with emery paper every day.’
Cynthia Asquith recalled life from the other side of the green baize door. ‘In some really well ordered households it was even the rule that no maid should ever be seen broom or duster in hand. Except for the bedrooms all the housework had to be done before any of the family or their guests came downstairs, a refinement that meant very early rising for the maids.’
Although the length of the day varied, most larger houses were up and running by 6 a.m. The busiest part of the day for the maids was the morning, while the footmen came into their own in the afternoon and the cooks were kept busy right up until dinner. Even when the maids were supposed to be having a short break in the afternoon, they were constantly at the mercy of the servant bells. These common devices were operated by a pull or switch in each room, which triggered a bell that sounded in the basement. Downstairs, the bells were mounted on a panel signalling which room it had been rung from, thereby indicating the location of the family member or guest requiring some assistance. The resting footman or maid would then leap to his or her feet and rush up the stairs to find out what was needed. In her memoirs Below Stairs Margaret Powell remembered the servants’ bells in the passage outside the kitchen in her first job as a maid, when she was fourteen.
In this passage, hanging on the wall, was a long row of bells with indicators above them to show where they rang from, and it was my job every time a bell rang to run full tilt out to the passage to see which bell it was […] If you didn’t run like mad out to the passage, the bell would stop ringing before you got there and you had no idea whether it was from the blue room, the pink room, first bedroom, second bedroom, fifth bedroom, drawing room or dining room. I was always in trouble over those bells at first, but at last I mastered the art, and nobody shot out quicker than me when they rang.
Which room to rush to?
Being the last to be relieved of his duties, the butler had the longest day and, should his master have been a night owl, he might not have got to bed until the early hours. According to records at Leighton Hall, in Lancashire, the butler there was up and ready for work by 6.45 a.m. and expected to be on hand to lock up at 1 a.m. Notes issued by the head of the household Mr Richard Gillow, in 1893, outlined the butler’s timetable.
|
Butler’s Duties |
|
|
Calling Mr & Mrs Gillow |
6.45 |
|
Take tea to Mr Gillow and take key of Hall door |
7.30 |
|
Breakfast in storeroom |
8.00 |
|
Attend mass if any or morning prayers |
9.00 |
|
Parlour Breakfast |
9.30 |
|
Servants’ Dinner |
12.00 |
|
Parlour Luncheon |
1.15 |
|
Tea in Drawing Room |
5.00 |
|
Dinner |
7.00 |
|
Servants’ supper |
8.15 |
|
Night Prayers |
9.15 |
|
Tea in Drawing Room |
9.30 |
|
Lock up and Bed |
1.00 |
His instructions detailed the areas he had to lock up as ‘two outside passage doors downstairs, Servants’ hall, Shoe place and Pantries. Lock door and window of Centre Room, Dining Room, Front Hall and Morning Room if occupied by the family who keep the keys at night.’
HIGH DAYS AND HOLIDAYS
In the Victorian household most servants were given just one afternoon off a week, on Sunday, so that they could attend church. In addition, if the mistress was a benevolent one, they might have had an extra day off a month.
Cassell’s Household Guide suggested the generous extra day did away with the necessity for a maid’s friends to call on her at the house. ‘At the same time, a mistress should be careful not to bind herself to spare her servant on a certain day in every month, as is sometimes demanded,’ it advised. ‘“Once in a month when convenient” is a better understanding. Most servants, in addition to the monthly holiday, ask to be allowed to go to church of a Sunday once in the day. This request is reasonable; and if a servant really goes to a place of worship, some inconvenience should be borne by her employers to secure her this liberty, but if she goes instead to see her friends, it should be a matter for consideration whether she shall go out or not. At any rate, the absence ought not to extend very much beyond the time occupied in the church service.’
With sixteen-hour days standard for a hard-working maid, an extra day was a remarkably small concession and, with so many working away from home, it could be months or even years between visits to see their families and friends ‘back home’. Frank Dawes writes of one homesick teenage maid, Harriet Brown, who wrote to her mother in 1870: ‘Dear Mother, I should of ask you over next week only we are going to have two dinner parties one on Tuesday the other on Thursday and we shall be so busy so you must come after it is over […] I should so like to see you but I cannot get away just now so you must come and see me soon.’ Although this was thirty years before the Edwardian age little changed in that time and even Harriet’s own daughter was to go into service as a child twenty years after her mother.
By 1900, calls for fairer working conditions had led to an afternoon and an evening off each week, as well as church time on Sunday. But the free time was not enshrined in law and only began after lunchtime duties were completed, often as late as 3 p.m. There would also be a curfew, usually around 9 p.m., and anyone late back could find himself or herself locked out by the angry housekeeper. Time off could also be cruelly snatched away for the smallest misdemeanour or the overlooking of a task.
Dorothy Green was the youngest maid in a London home in the early 1900s and often had to wait up to let her colleagues in after a night out. ‘The younger ones had to be back by 8 p.m. and the older ones at 9 p.m. If the maids were late, which they frequently were, I would be trembling with fear in the kitchen and hoping the mistress didn’t decide to check up on them because I knew there would be an almighty row if she found out.’
Advice on the provision of a servant’s days off, from the Manual of Household Work and Management by Annie Butterworth (1913)
As the work was relentless and exhausting, there was little time to rest or play so the afternoons or evenings off were highly treasured. But not everyone had the energy left to enjoy them to the full. Margaret Thomas reflected on one house where she was given alternate Sunday afternoons and evenings off. ‘Sometimes, when I went up to dress, I was too tired to go out so I lit the gas fire and thought I’d have a short rest. I was vexed when much later the cook coming up to bed found me there and discovered I’d “had” my day out.’
For those who did get a monthly day off, it was a much-anticipated chance for a family reunion. Girls frequently started in service as young as twelve and would miss their parents and siblings terribly, so their monthly visit was a cause for celebration and a chance to push the boat out. A kind cook would send each girl home with treats such as preserves, cold meats and cakes and, after church, the gathered family would enjoy a tasty spread perhaps topped off with some home-grown musical entertainment.
For those in service in a London house, with family living in the city, a journey on a tram, a bus or the ‘tuppenny tube’ would get them home. For those living further away, the journey was difficult and expensive, especially on a maid’s wage. Although the Cheap Trains Act of 1883 had removed duty from all journeys charged at less than a penny a mile, this applied mostly to ‘workmen’s trains’ in city and suburban areas. A longer journey, even in second class, would mean a lot of saving had to be done first. For example, a trip from London to Dover, would take two-and-a-half hours and cost over 6s. (30p), a great deal of money for someone earning £16 a year. The cost, and the fact that servants were often expected to return before late dinner was served, even on their one day off, made long distance visits to families impossible.
Enlightened employers, such as one family who engaged Margaret Thomas as a housemaid, allowed an overnight stay away, to combat this problem. In Margaret’s case they also allowed her to save up her days off over a few months so she could pay a longer visit home.
At the beginning of the twentieth century, it became standard practice to allow a week’s paid holiday, usually while the family was away itself. The lower paid staff would save up all year so that they could afford the train fare home for this precious week and a few small gifts for their parents and siblings. After the First World War, when domestic staff were demanding fairer pay and conditions, the holiday entitlement rose to two weeks.
CHURCH OUTINGS
Servants were expected to attend a church service on Sunday and anyone refusing would risk being branded ‘wicked’ in the pious era of Queen Victoria. Indeed, whenever they were in Balmoral, the monarch and her husband Prince Albert insisted their servants accompany them on the mile-and-a-half walk to Crathie church every Sunday, without fail.
Under her son, Edward VII, weekends in the upper echelons tended more to parties, horse racing and the pursuit of fun but mistresses still insisted on chapel attendance for their children and servants and most middle-class families were regular members of the congregation. A God-fearing staff was an obedient one and religion was not only thought good for the servants’ souls but a convenient way of keeping them in check.
In some churches the master’s family attended the morning service while the domestics worshipped at evening mass but in most the household attended together. However, they sat in different areas of the church, with the family settling themselves in a pew reserved each week for the residents of the ‘big house’ and servants relegated to the back or the gallery. Here, as in the servants’ dining hall, the downstairs hierarchy was regimentally observed, with each servant seated according to their rank.
Each maid had her Sunday best for church but, unlike the ladies that she waited on, this was not an occasion for flamboyant style statements. Staff were often instructed on exactly what they should wear and, even if the guidelines were general, they were invariably pressed to wear plain dark colours, with a dark coat and black shoes. A modest hat or bonnet was also worn as women would never attend church bareheaded.
‘All we maidservants […] had to wear black, navy or dark grey whenever we went out, with small black hats or toques,’ recalled Margaret Thomas. ‘We had our own places in our pews at church, and I was agreeably surprised to find I ranked next to the head housemaid.’
In addition, daily prayers were read at home and the servants’ areas were dotted with framed quotes, often embroidered, from the scriptures, extolling hard work and cleanliness and reminding them of their righteous toil.
On the rare occasions that servants could grab a few hours off, most, if close enough, would spend the day visiting family, seeing friends or meeting boyfriends and girlfriends. Those in service far from home would have had no time to make friends outside of their own colleagues and little money to spend on entertainment. But the options varied considerably depending on the area in which you lived.
Country Life
In country houses, the hours might be whiled away taking a healthy walk and getting the fresh air that those confined to the basement were so deprived of. If they were lucky, servants might be able to afford to spend their pennies taking tea in a local teashop savouring, no doubt, the experience of being waited on for once.
City Sights
In London, however, there were many choices for one’s day off. Cinema, although in its infancy, was becoming a popular craze in the first decade of the twentieth century and a short film, depicting a news event or just an everyday scene of factory workers, was still a marvel. While there were picture shows at a couple of theatres in the capital, makeshift cinemas were also springing up in empty shops furnished with folding seats. The novelty was still huge and the public flocked to pay a penny and see their first flick.
An alternative was the music hall, still a hugely popular form of entertainment before the First World War. ‘I went to the Bricks Music Hall and nearly fell over the front, right up in the gallery trying to look over, because it’s very high,’ said Albert Packman in Lost Voices of the Edwardians. ‘There were acrobats on the stage and impossible things that I’d never thought of in all my life – all for tuppence.’
Leading acts included Marie Lloyd, who popularized such tunes as ‘A Little Bit of What You Fancy Does You Good’ and ‘Where Did You Get That Hat?’ and, a little later, Florrie Ford. A seat in the ‘gods’ could come in at sixpence, a hefty price for a lowly maid but reasonable enough for a young man in employment, should he wish to woo her.
A stroll ‘up west’ might be rewarded with a glimpse of royalty as they left Buckingham Palace and a few curiosities too. Mildred Ramson remembered an old lady who stood with her cow in St James’s Park, every day, selling milk and cakes to passers-by. ‘Another sight was Mr Leopold de Rothschild driving his tandem of zebras in the park,’ she recalled. ‘We used to admire, but not touch, the famous Piccadilly goat; we bowed as the old Queen, now deeply beloved, drove slowly by, or the Princess of Wales passed with her three daughters packed in the back of a landau. Royalty passed with a stately step then.’
The footmen and grooms, if not of a mind to take a lady out for the evening, were likely to be found at the local pub.
