May You Live in Interesting Times

Chapter 3

Abigail carried the goods she and William had picked up on the way to the Duke’s house, along with James the carriage driver, and Joe. They were met by a woman a few years older than Hockings, and he introduced her as Bentley, the head housekeeper. The woman grabbed the bags Hockings carried, and led the others to the kitchens, while the two men went to the Duke’s office. They found most of the staff in the kitchen, idly standing around.

“Have none of you anything to do?” Bentley asked angrily.

“Not really,” a man’s voice from the back replied. “We’re going to be on the street by noon, and hungrier than we are now.

“We have brought some food,” Abigail said. She looked around and could see no place to put the bags she carried. She set them on the floor. “We have rolls in these bags, and the bags that James, my driver, carries have some cold cooked beef and cheese. Perhaps we can all make a bun to break our fast and then have a little chat.”

The meat and cheese were put onto a small, rickety table, the only one in the kitchen. A woman Abigail assumed was the cook cut slices off the beef, and another woman cut slices off the block of cheddar. A third woman sliced the rolls after moving the bag to her feet. The staff formed a line and politely moved along, each getting a bun of meat and cheese at the end. Soon everyone was munching happily: breakfast in the past weeks had been weak oatmeal gruel, and there was none at all yesterday or today. Eyes were wide as they spied the meats and other foods that had been brought down to the kitchen. Abigail sent Bentley up to the office with buns for the Duke and William.

“You are all probably wondering who I am,” Abigail said as the staff ate. “My name is Abigail Currie, and my brother, William Currie, Earl of Stanstead is currently up with our cousin, your master, trying to save the house. If all goes well, we will be in possession of the house after noon, and will want to keep most of you, if not all, to stay on as staff. So when you are finished eating I want you all to go to your work. Your new master will want to inspect the property, and how well it looks will determine whether or not he wishes to keep you on. The kitchen staff should concentrate on cooking dinner. There is a ham in one of these bundles, so there will be meat for dinner today. Not just for the main dining room, but for the downstairs table as well. Although I don’t see a table here at the present time.

Bentley returned carrying her wooden platter. “The Duchess and her daughter will not have eaten yet,” Abigail noted. “Is there enough left for them to break fast?” The cook made two more rolls, and placed them on the platter. “I wish to see the house. Are you free to show me around?” Abigail asked Bentley.

As the two women walked up to the main floor carrying the platter, Bentley said: “I signed as witness to a deed that said your brother has purchased the house and estates. Does that mean the house is sold?”

“It does. William will speak to all the staff later, but rest assured you will be kept on. And paid your arrears of salary. I will be in charge of the household, so you should expect to report to me. Not the Duchess, who should be treated as an honored guest.”

“They will both be in the Duchess’s suite, I suspect,” the housekeeper said. She rapped twice on a door, and then opened it. A woman, wearing a somewhat tattered gown, was within, along with a girl of about 12 who looked to be squeezed into a dress of a 10-year-old.

“Is it time?” the woman said.

“Is that food?” the little girl said, salivating.

“We have food, and we have news,” Abigail said as Bentley approached the pair with the platter. They each quickly snapped up a bun and started eating, grinning as if they were eating a feast, not a common roll.

“It is clear which you wanted first,” Abigail said. “Now for the news. My brother, who is a cousin to the Duke, has purchased the house and the estates.”

“Gabrielle, eat like a lady,” the woman snapped. The girl took two smaller bites, and then went back to eating as fast as she could. Abigail noted that the bites her mother took were just as large. The woman continued: “When do we need to be out?”

“The thing is,” Abigail explained, “you are family, and you are not expected to leave. You are not even expected to move to other rooms. This will continue to be your home: even though it will be William that owns it, and not the Duke.”

“So he won’t be able to pawn or sell anything else,” the woman’s eyes lit up. “He will have to stop gambling.”

“William said he will allow 10 pounds a week allowance to the Duke, so he may continue his habits in moderation,” Abigail said. “But he will not be able to deplete the house or estates any further.”

“God bless you, cousin,” the Duchess said, hugging Abigail. “Bentley, put Abigail in the gold room. And have the lout of my husband moved into here.” She turned to Abigail and said in an aside. “I left the master suite three years ago, in an attempt to get him to stop gambling, but it just got worse. Your brother should get that suite. I will let John back in my bed, but it may be some time before he regains my attentions.”

She turned to Bentley, who had not moved, and was about to make a retort when she realized her mistake. “Oh my. It is no longer my place to order staff about, is it? That will be hard for me to break. I apologize.” She looked to two women standing at the wall. “Will we be able to keep our maids?”

Abigail had not even noticed the women standing motionless at the side of the room as they had watched their mistresses wolfing down food.

“Yes you will, but I will make one exception with this order,” Abigail said turning to the maids. “I want the two of you to hurry down to the kitchen and tell the cook that I said you were to be fed as the other staff have been.” She turned to Bentley. “And I will need a maid for my own purposes.

“Harper, send up Wilson before you eat, and then come back to serve your mistresses,” Bentley ordered.

Abigail looked around the suite. The only place one could sit was on the edge of the bed. There was an old wardrobe that had one door broken off, showing three or four old gowns. One was so old it had a ruff collar, a style that had gone out after Queen Elizabeth had died.

The Duchess blushed at seeing Abigail look about her room: “I apologize, milady. There is not much left in the house. We thought we would be moving out today. And my gown is not very presentable.”

“Neither is mine,” Abigail said. “I had to wear yesterday’s again, and that was a somewhat exciting day for us. I do have a trunk with a few more gowns, so I will be able to change for dinner. And let’s stop with this milady stuff. You outrank me: duchess over sister to an Earl. I am not even a Countess. Call me Abigail, or even Abi when we are alone.”

“I am Ruth,” the Duchess said. “This is Gabrielle.”

“I will have your trunk moved into the Gold Room, milady,” Bentley said, certain that the dropping of titles did not apply to her. “If you later wish another, then we can move you. I fear you will not be impressed with the room. There is not even a bed in it!”

With that the women toured the house. It had two main suites upstairs, the master quarters of the Duke, and the Duchess’s. There were eight other rooms: one for Gabrielle, and the Gold room that Abigail was moving into. The other six were slightly smaller, but still good-sized guest rooms fit for the visitors that would have come to the house in its better years. Now all the rooms were empty, to the point where carpets had been lifted and tapestries and paintings removed. Gabrielle’s room had nothing in it but a bed and a small table made of two wooden trestles with a plank over them and three other gowns spread over them, each older and more tattered than the one she wore.

“I think we need to go shopping tomorrow,” Abigail said. “We all need gowns and other clothes, and more than a few things to decorate these rooms.”

“There is no money for clothes,” the Duchess nearly sobbed. “We should stay at home while you go to the shops. Wilson can accompany you. “She is only a few years older than you, and knows the styles and the stores.”

“Nonsense,” Abigail said. “I will be both hurt and angry if the two of you, and your maids, do not accompany us. And you will get new clothes. My brother will pay for them. He will own them, which will prevent anyone from pawning them for gambling money.”

A wide grin appeared on Ruth’s face. “That is brilliant. We will be pleased to accompany you tomorrow, and will gladly wear any clothes you decide to lend to us.”

A young maid appeared at the end of the hall, and froze until Bentley noticed her and waved her closer. She timidly moved closer. Abigail recognized her from the breakfast: a thin, pale girl with beautiful long red hair to mid back. “This is Abigail Currie, sister to the Earl, and your new mistress,” Bentley said. “For the next two weeks you will be on trial with her as her personal maid.

“What is your name, dear?” Abigail said.

“Wilson, milady,” the girl said softly.

“That would be your father’s name, I think. What is your name?” Abigail repeated.

“I am Gloria Wilson, milady,” the girl said, nearly crying. “I am sorry, milady, but I have no experience in being a personal servant. I worked mostly in the kitchen, or in cleaning crews. Perhaps you would choose someone else?”

“Nonsense, Gloria,” Abigail said in a soothing tone. “Mistress Bentley recommended you, and I value her judgment greatly.” The housekeeper beamed. “It turns out that I have no experience having a personal maid wait on me, so we should fit together splendidly. We will muddle through things together. I know Mistress Bentley considers the two-week trial to be on my side only, but I promise you that if you want to go back to the kitchens at that time, you may. It will be a two-way trial.”

That seemed to calm the girl down, and when the other two maids appeared a few minutes later looking happier for having full stomachs, she fell into step behind them and they followed their mistresses through the house.

Soon after, men started moving furniture into the house, and a beautiful four-poster bed was moved into the Gold Room. Other furniture came in time, but when the women had seen all the house, and went out into the grounds. Bentley stayed behind to direct the delivery people.

It seems that Abigail’s suggestion that the staff start working had some effect. There was a slightly over-grown garden in the back, and there was a man working on trimming it back. Three other men were working elsewhere on the grounds, doing the front gardens, and mowing the lawn. The oldest man Abigail had ever seen, hunched over and able to move only by shuffling his feet, oversaw them. He looked to be eighty, if he was in the 21st century, although here he might only be in his late 60s.

The stable was nearly empty, although there were several men and boys in it clearing it up, and taking old manure out to the gardeners. The carriage they had rented for the day was inside, along with the four horses. While they were there, a vendor arrived with a wagon that held several sacks of grains, including oats. James, the carriage driver, seemed to be in charge.

“Greetings, miladies,” he said. “Your brother has hired me to buy this carriage and team from my prior employer. It will take a bit of work to get the place ship shape, but the lads here are eager and hard workers. You can drop that feed right here and the boys will take it in,” he said to the vendor driver.

“Me boss sed I weren’t to unload nothing till I saw the money,” the driver said. “It’s nine and five for the lot. Yer lot owes the boss money already.”

James flipped up a pound coin to the driver. “Take that. Apply the change to the account. And tell your boss that if he makes up an account of the rest of the charges owing, and gets us to us, it will be paid by the end of the month. And future bills will be paid monthly as well.”

The man started handing out huge cloth bags of grain to the men, along with several heaps of straw and hay¹ that were dumped in the proper places in the stable. Soon the carriage team was being fed, and they eagerly ate the oats given them, and then worked more casually through the hay.

The women left the men to their work, and continued to circle the house. Abigail was astonished at how much maintenance had been let slide. Most window frames needed paint, and the stone work in a few places looked to need a mason. The Duchess told them that the roof was very bad, and needed work, and Abigail made a mental note to tell William, since that should be addressed as soon as possible. In the past when it rained, the staff would run from room to room, emptying buckets and pots containing rainwater, but two weeks ago all the spare pots had been sold to raise money. Apparently they tried to get the pots from the kitchen, and the cook needed to physically accost the men trying to remove her last cooking pots. In retrospect it sounded funny, like a situation comedy, but it showed how bad things were. Abigail noted that she needed to talk to the cook and find out if she had need for additional equipment, or foods beyond what Hockings had recommended that morning.

As they came to the back corner of the house, Abigail saw a building attached to the house that she didn’t recognize from her studies of 17th century architecture. It was round, with a domed roof, and a large door near the rear lane.

“What is that?” she asked Gloria.

“That is the icehouse,” the Duchess explained. “We used to store ice in there from the river every January. The ice would last until the following year, unless it was a really hot summer. It provided a cold room near the kitchen, so we could store meats for a longer time. Last couple years the Duke would sell of the ice when summer came and he could get a decent price for it. But last year he couldn’t afford the wagons to bring ice in at all. It sits empty now.”

Abigail thought for a moment. If the Duke sold ice in the summer, then there must be a vendor who could refill the room. Having even a rudimentary form of refrigeration would be useful.

They went into the house through a rear door near the icehouse, and were met by the smells from the kitchen, primarily the scent of pork being roasted. Abigail went down into the kitchen, but for some reason the Duchess and her daughter didn’t want to join them, and headed up to their suite.

The kitchen was a hive of activity. There was a large worktable that hadn’t been there before, and at least five undercooks were working on it preparing various items. As Abigail had worried, there was a squabble over pots, with the cook finally draining the beets into a serving dish and covering that with a towel to retain the heat, and then letting the other undercook use the pot. She was glad to see that there was a shelf covered with plates, platters, dishes and mugs that hadn’t been there in the morning.

“Milady,” the cook said. “Dinner in 25 … no 30 minutes. Is that young boy of yourn around? I needs a spit boy to turn the ham. I’se had use a wash girl, and that means others have to catch up fer her.”

“Thirty minutes? I need to go up and change. If I see Joe I will send him down.”

Abigail hurried up to her room, with Gloria following. She found a wardrobe had been installed in the room, but her clothes were still in her trunk. Abigail felt the need for a shower, but couldn’t wait the 300 years for one to be invented, so she just had Gloria help her out of her dirty clothes and into a second, cleaner gown.

The girl gasped, looking in amazement at Abigail’s large breasts. “Sorry milady,” she stammered. “I’ve never seen anyone so large. I had assumed you had padding or something in there.”

“Nope, it is all me. It’s like I’m following them around wherever I go. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to them.”

“What? Did they grow that quickly?”

“Quicker than you might think,” Abigail said with a giggle. “But enough of them. More than enough of them, I think. Let’s get a dress on for dinner.”

As they walked down to the dining room, Abigail asked Gloria about cleanliness. She found out that the servants used an outhouse near the stables, but that there was an indoor facility for the family. But it sounded little better than an outhouse, albeit one that was shoveled out and rinsed weekly. Bathing was another matter. Apparently the Duchess called for a bath once a month, while the Duke, and most of the staff worked on the principle that one bath a year was one too many.

In spite of that Abigail insisted that she needed a bath that evening, and Gloria promised to have water boiled. There was a huge tub in the servant’s quarters that would be filled for her. It was stone, built into the foundations, so had not been pawned, as the Duchess’s upstairs tub had been.

Abigail walked into the dining room just as the cook was checking that all was ready. A huge new table dominated the room, and at one end the Duke and his wife sat on chairs, while the other end had William in one chair, and another that Abigail climbed into, with Gloria pushing it in close for her. Gabrielle was on the end of one bench, opposite her mother.

“This is ridiculous,” William said as he looked down at the Duke 24 feet away. The benches could hold eight to ten comfortably on either side, so up to 24 could dine here easily. “We need to get a smaller table for just six. It should fit nicely in that corner.”

With that the meal started appearing. First was a course of soup, which Abigail thought was bean, although she wasn’t sure. It seemed to need seasoning. The main course was ham, of course, and Abigail was only able to eat half of the slab that landed on her plate. The sides were turnips and beets; the latter still warm in spite of the pot debacle downstairs. Finally there was a sweet pudding for dessert that was a bit soggy, but still acceptable.

When Gloria cleared the plates Abigail asked what would happen to the leftovers: she had left a huge portion of ham on her plate, and more than half of the sides that were served with it. The girl whispered back that it would be eaten by the staff, who were just starting to eat downstairs. Abigail was happy to know that the food would not be wasted.

During dinner William and Abigail exchanged information on what they had done during the day. Abi mentioned the problems with the roof, and William ordered Hockings to look into the matter. “I am taking Joe and James out to where ‘the incident’ took place yesterday. And probably two or three of the men. I’d like to take the wagon, but that will be needed to bring in more supplies. I’m sending Kensing and Winthrope out shopping again tomorrow and they will need it. James says that the carriage horses are all trained to be ridden as well, so we will ride those. I’ll probably pick up another common horse to carry our gear. What do you have planned for tomorrow?”

“The ladies and I will be shopping as well. Since you are taking the carriage horses, I don’t know how we will get there though. Perhaps you can send for another carriage from the stage station. Tell them we want it for the day, but this time we won’t be buying it at the end and stealing another driver.”

Just then Bentley came up and told them that the staff had finished eating, and were being assembled in the great room. “Well, let’s join them. We need these benches for folks to sit on,” William said. “Abi and I can carry one, and you and Bentley can take the other.

“Sir,” Hockings said in an astonished voice. “Let me get some men to move them. It isn’t proper for the Lord of a house to do manual work.”

“Don’t be silly,” William replied, and he picked up one end of the bench, and Abi took the other, waiting while the amazed butler and housekeeper took the ends of the other and led to the great room, where the entire staff waited. Jaws dropped as they saw the new lord and lady carrying in a bench for them to sit on.

“Could four of you lads run back to the dining room and get the four chairs?” William said. “I want as many of the ladies as possible to sit on the benches, and the rest can be for the inside men. Those men who work outside can sit on the floor, I suppose. Eventually we will have the place furnished again.”

The servants milled about in confusion. “By ladies, the Earl is using the term broadly to mean all the women staff,” Abigail explained. The servants were amazed at being called ladies.

Soon the staff settled down, and William stood in front of his chair.

1. There is a difference between straw and hay, although a city slicker might not recognize the difference. Hay is harvested grass and is quite nutritious as fodder for animals. Straw is the stalks of grain where the cereal head has been removed, and is used mainly for bedding for animals.