Jennifer Kloester Read online

  The butler was in charge of the footmen and responsible for the wine and wine cellar, the plate and the silverware, of which he kept an inventory. He welcomed guests at the front door (which had been answered by the footman) and announced them to the master or mistress of the house. He ensured that the house was always kept in good order, decanted the table wine, oversaw the serving of meals, carved the meat and stood behind his master’s chair until the meal was over, at which time he led the other servants from the room, returning when the gentlemen had finished their port to oversee the clearing of the table and lock up the plate and silverware. A good butler was expected to be able to recognise class and good breeding and was extremely knowledgeable in all matters of etiquette and propriety—he was also aware of everything of importance that went on inside the house. In The Toll-Gate the butler, Huby, had been in service to the Stornaway family for many years and it was only his strong sense of loyalty to them that enabled him to commit the appalling (for a good butler) act of watering the wine in a bid to get rid of an unwelcome guest. A butler earned between £25 and £35 per year, had his own room (usually near the pantry and the silver or plate safe) and, like the steward, did not wear livery.

  As the personal attendant to the man of the house a valet was always employed by him directly rather than by the steward. The valet’s main occupation was the care of his master’s wardrobe, including his boots and shoes, but he could also shave him each day and generally accompanied him when travelling. An upper-class valet took enormous pride in seeing his ‘gentleman’ properly turned out in the latest fashion, knowing he had helped him into his exquisitely cut, skin-fit coat, proffered a perfectly starched neckcloth for tying, or eased him into a pair of boots polished to a high gloss with blacking made from the valet’s own secret recipe. In Arabella, Mr Painswick was a peerless valet to the hero, Mr Beaumaris, and such a master of his craft that many gentlemen of fashion had sought to acquire his services. Valets were on call around the clock and often sat up into the early hours waiting for their masters to return home (even when instructed, as was Painswick by Mr Beaumaris, to go to bed) at which time they would retire to their own room.

  The housekeeper was the steward’s equivalent in charge of the female staff (with the exception of the personal staff such as the nurse, lady’s maid and cook), and was one of the busiest servants in the house. She directed the maids in their work and oversaw the running of the house in terms of its cleaning, linen, storeroom, still-room and china closet. She also kept the household accounts (submitted weekly) and met regularly with her mistress to take her orders. The housekeeper was expected to know about home remedies and basic first aid and was also required to turn her hand to sewing, mending, and bottling, preserving and drying the excess fruit, vegetables and herbs from the kitchen garden. It was the housekeeper, Mrs Gurnard, in Venetia who organised a large hamper to be carried to the Priory when Aubrey was thrown from his horse, and she who refused to take orders about the running of Undershaw from the social-climbing Mrs Scorrier. Although they did not wear uniform, most housekeepers were plainly dressed in dark colours and were usually paid about £25 a year, with their own room or set of rooms. With the steward, the housekeeper presided at the table in the servants’ hall and in the housekeeper’s room where she ate with the rest of the upper servants.

  The lady’s maid was also known as an abigail or dresser, and was the personal attendant to the lady of the house who directly employed her. She was required to wait on her mistress before breakfast to ensure that she had hot water and was ready to rise. She then laid out her lady’s clothes, helped her dress, did her hair, attended to any clothes that needed mending, special cleaning or ironing, tidied things away and made sure her mistress was looking her best before going downstairs. During the day she attended to her lady’s wardrobe and other household tasks, such as making lotions and cosmetics, or accompanied her mistress while shopping or walking. A lady’s maid had to be well dressed, quick, efficient and discreet as she was often in her employer’s confidence as well as her company. Some lady’s maids developed a close personal relationship with their mistresses and, while they remained respectful, took on the role of confidante and advisor. In Lady of Quality, Annis Wychwood’s formidable abigail, Jurby, had attended her mistress since childhood and knew her better than her own family.

  Starting at 6.30 a.m. in summer and 7.00 a.m. in winter, the footman began his day filling the coal scuttles in the main rooms, cleaning the household’s shoes and boots, polishing plate and laying the breakfast table. In The Corinthian it was the under-footman who discovered, as he went about his morning duties in Sir Richard Wyndham’s library, the shawl, the cravat and the telltale strands of guinea-gold hair that set Sir Richard’s family in such a bustle. At every meal it was the footman’s job to lay the table, carry in the food, wait at table, stand while the family ate and then clear away. Back in the kitchen, they washed the glasses and silverware before starting the whole routine again. In houses with more than two footmen, the third footman and below did the rougher jobs such as fetching wood, coal and water and cleaning the boots, while the first and second footmen cleaned plate, trimmed lamps and candles, answered the door (after midday) or went out on carriage duty (sitting or standing behind the carriage). As Frederica discovered, a footman could also be required to attend a member of the household on a walk or shopping trip, following on foot at an appropriate distance. Footmen slept in the basement or cellar and wore a formal livery of knee-breeches, tail-coat, stockings and a powdered wig.

  Next to the kitchen, scullery and laundry maids, the housemaid was one of the hardest workers in the house. She was up by 6.00 a.m. to light the fire in the kitchen, open the shutters and start sweeping, cleaning and dusting the hallways, living rooms and stairs and polishing the banisters, grates, fenders and furniture. Before her master or mistress got up she lit the fires in their bedrooms and, after they had gone down to breakfast, made their beds, dusted and swept their rooms and emptied the chamber-pots and wash-basins. Maids were expected to fulfill their duties as quietly and unobtrusively as possible and were often so good at moving quietly about the house while they worked that in Arabella the sound of fire-irons crashing in the hearth was so unusual that it woke the heroine from a sound sleep. The kitchen maid mainly worked as an assistant to the cook, preparing food, cleaning utensils and sweeping the kitchen. The scullery maid rose at dawn to clean the kitchen range and start the fire so that the cook could prepare breakfast, and spent the day washing the dishes and cleaning, scrubbing and scouring any pots, pans, bowls and utensils not dealt with by the kitchen maid. She also scrubbed the floors. The laundry maid did most of her work in the wash-house at the back of the main house. If there was more than one laundry maid then the more skilled of the two was usually responsible for the family’s personal linen while the other maid did the general washing and the servants’ laundry. Maids earned between £6 and £8 a year, slept on the top floor of the house and were each provided with a close gown, stockings, cap and apron to wear while they worked.

  Servants were often able to augment their income through tips and other perquisites such as cast-off clothing or household items. The lady’s maid and valet had first entitlement to their employers’ unwanted clothes, shoes and accessories which they would often sell, and the cook and butler in some households were not above fiddling the books or helping themselves to extra food or wine as did the Groombridges—and later the Bradgates—in Friday’s Child. At Christmas time servants could expect a gift of money and when visitors stayed in the house it was expected that they would tip the staff according to their station and the degree of service. These tips, known as vails, were an important addition to many servants’ wages and, in houses where employers failed to entertain, servants often felt compelled to seek a place where tips were more likely to be forthcoming. Charles, the new footman at Darracott Place in The Unknown Ajax, was so unimpressed by his employer’s ill temper and parsimony that he had decided to l