Footmen and Butlers

Oh, thank you for that lovely/charming posting……..with its predictable (I mean this as a compliment) combination of nostalgia and immediate practicality. You do, Lady Carnarvon, manage to keep a steady (and admirably wry) foot in both worlds…..and thanks for your writings.
Sincerely,
David Terry
Rougemont, NC
USA

I’m always fascinated by the details of how the large estates were run and the people involved who kept everything going, whether in the household or the grounds. It was quite a pecking order from what I have read and seen in various depictions, including Downton Abbey.

I’ve toured the Biltmore estate in Asheville, NC a few times and always lingered the longest in the rooms where the staff spent their time. Even the variety of different pantries are interesting to learn about to me! Perhaps I was on staff somewhere like it in a previous life. 🙂

Have a great week, Lady Carnarvon, and thank you again for another fascinating post. I jump right on your site when I see a notification pop into my inbox since I enjoy your posts so much, regardless of the topic.

What an interesting blog! I still have the bell my grandmother used when she lived in Bogota, Columbia. She used to give grand diplomatic parties at her house and until recently, I still had the sequined dresses she ordered from France. Each sequin sew on by hand, of course, from head to toe. Unbeknownst to her husband, a lawyer, she learned Spanish from the servants. This man was the stepfather of my father and he turned out to be nefarious creature. Having learned Spanish well, my grandmother overheard her husband and some other men discussing a plot to assassinate the president of Columbia, Miguel Abadia Mendez (about 1927) during a hunting party soon to take place. The plot failed and another man was shot instead by accident. My grandmother was on the next boat back to America. Had it not been for the servants, she may have been caught up in a terrible mess that she could not get out of or murdered herself.
Fortunately, my grandmother was able to escape just months before the Banana Massacre. The president sent in the Columbian army to stop the striking fruit laborers and arrest the instigators. There is not a particular number written to my knowledge as to how many innocent people were killed in the massacre, but had the assassination attempt succeeded, this tragedy may have been avoided. Of course, there is no way to know.
People in service are worth far more in my opinion having been responsible for saving my grandmother who I cherish.

So interesting life!

Lady C, you always intrigue me with your stories that weave days of yore with current times. The gentle times of days long past were not as lovely, and gentle as we imagine them to be, and the working staff had it much harder without today’s modern conveniences. But, like all fairytales, I always imagine myself as living above the fray, upstairs “ringing the bell” for the staff. ☺️

The early 20th century Virginia house I grew up in had a buzzer on the floor beneath the dining room table. It rang in the kitchen for getting the maid’s attention but was so loud that the diners could hear it too. Because it was under the rug, many unsuspecting guests set it off by accident. We children thought it was a grand trick!

Such a wonderful heart warming story. You are admired by so many people, but your down to earth demeanor is so refreshing. Thanks for letting us get a glimpse of Highclere living. Past and present. Still praying that someday my feet will stand on English soil.

Once again, I am enjoying reading your latest story & laughing at the photo of the “butler’s bell”
as they are the type our teacher on their desks in the ’50s and 60s to get out attention.
I was also reminded about how my mother would step into the living room to announce that
dinner was ready, ringing an imaginary bell (she’d say, “ding-ding, dinner is served”)
Then one Sunday, my aunt gifted us with a small silver bell with a ship on top, so we had a
real bell to ring. Mother and Auntie have long since passed, but I still keep that bell in my
china cabinet.
Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful stories of everyday life and also bits of
the past.

Thank you for another interesting blog. Modern people do not understand that being “in service” was a much better life than slaving away at agricultural work. The Big House provided food, a degree of comfort and a wage, however small that helped support the family at home. The poor little maid of all work who lived in a small suburban house did not have such a good life, though. Will you tell us about the gardeners and grounds keepers (I think of them as I complain and resent every overgrown part of my gardens and wish I had their skilled labor to help me!)

It would be interesting to know how service staff “progressed” through the hierarchy in a Great House. For example, would the House Steward at Highclere have started out as a footman and been promoted “through the ranks”, or would it have been usual for a footman to take a position as under-butler at another house, and so on, before finally taking up the post of House Steward at yet another house?

Lovely post! We have several of my grandmother’s bells we use jokingly – and sparingly – to call for a fresh cup of coffee from one another. Even more excited to visit Highclere tomorrow!

So very interesting, I love reading this homey type of text. You do an excellent job. The comments are interesting as well.