Duality~2

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Angel


 I awoke early the following morning not quite knowing where I was...

 
 
Duality

By Susan Brown
 


I would like to thank Miss Jane Austen for the inspiration for this novella, which is based on a time prior to that which is described in Pride And Prejudice and involves a few of the characters in that great work.

There was a time when I was not as I am now and I hope that by telling my strange story, I can help others as others have helped me.

“I don't approve of surprises. The pleasure is never enhanced and the inconvenience is considerable.”
”• Jane Austen, Emma


 


Chapter 2

Previously …

After saying my prayers, I joined my sister in bed and bade her good night. I knew that the next day would be a trying one for me and I hoped that my Mother would be proud of me and that her faith in me would be justified.

How I would fare as a girl I did not know, but I knew that I would have to try my hardest to be what I appeared, a young girl of nearly fourteen, hoping to obtain the position of scullery maid at The Manor.

And now the story continues…

I awoke early the following morning not quite knowing where I was. It was still dark outside and for a moment, I thought that it was still night-time. Then I glanced over to the corner of the room where my sister Julia was washing her face by the light of a candle and I recalled everything that had happened in an instant. I was staying at the inn with Julia. Today we would go to the manor where I would be interviewed for the position of scullery maid.

Yes, I would present as a girl and not the boy that I was born as.

The fact that I had always thought myself different from others was now quite clear to me. I was slightly built and had a gentle nature. I had not the strength or inclination to do as other boys did. I was not for rough and tumble and doing manly things. I much preferred the gentler pursuits of the fair sex and I was in fact, as far as I was concerned, a girl in all but name.

Not that girls did not work hard. I knew just how my mother toiled all her life to make our family home a happy one. Many women worked the fields or in service as my sister did and there was no way that anyone could consider their labours as anything but hard work.

But now I would have to be a girl anyway. Any thoughts about reverting back to George were not possible. I had started a chain of events that was, for all intents and purposes, not one that I could change, even if I was inclined to do so.

I sneezed as the air in the room was somewhat dusty.

‘You are awake Georgiana? Good, we need to make haste as your appointment with Miss Gibbons is early this afternoon and we have many miles to travel. As a boy, it was easy to dress and then get on, but we girls do not have it so easy and we need to ensure that you look every inch the young, well brought up girl that you are. We may not be so well bred as some, but our mother brought us up genteel and we need for her to be proud of us and not shame the family name.’

I was fully awake now and without further ado, I used the chamber pot and then got ready, for the first time, to go out into the world fully dressed as a girl.

I must admit to a thrill of anticipation as I took off my nightdress and washed my face, hands and feet. Luckily, the embers of the fire still glowed and the room was warm.

As I dried myself with a cloth, Julia put some clothing on the bed for me to wear.

‘These should look nice on you. You must not show airs and graces and dress above your station, which, to be frank is the lowest of the low. But still you must make a good impression. If Miss Gibbons agrees to take you on and you work well, then you will advance from a scullery maid and then, even, in time, be perhaps an upstairs maid like me. Would you like that?’

‘Of all things dear sister. You are so kind to be sure. I do not know what I would do without your kindness.’

‘You are my sister Georgiana, and that is what good sisters do. Now let us make haste as the stagecoach arrives at eight and we have yet to breakfast.’

A little while later, I found myself sitting at a table in the inn having a rough breakfast consisting of bread, ham and cider as the water was somewhat suspect. It felt strange wearing the long blue muslin dress with shift and petticoat beneath. Also, the knit stockings that I was wearing, held up by ribbons, did little to make me feel any less exposed.

I would be pleased to wear my blue bonnet and travel cloak on our travels, kindly given by my sister, as it was cold outside and the stage coach was not noted for its ability to keep the cold out.

All too soon the call came that the stagecoach was arriving. We walked out to the yard, trying to avoid the excrement and other waste matter getting on our long dresses and struggling with the luggage at the same time.

With the help of some men from the inn, our luggage, such as it was, was loaded only the coach and then we were helped in.

It felt strange to be assisted in such a way by men. I wondered how they would feel if they knew that really I was a male under my female attire? Although, to be honest, I felt anything but a boy now.

In the coach, was a rather portly man, fast asleep and what I took to be his wife, a shrewish looking woman with a hooked nose and a look that did not bode well for our travels with her. I had the feeling that she didn’t particularly like our company. I did not particularly like the smell. I wondered if either of them actually washed very often.

Julia and I did not have the opportunity to speak freely under the steely glare of that unpleasant woman and therefore I sat back and watched the scenery go by.

I must admit that my mind was mainly taken up with trying not to bring up my breakfast, which at that moment lay heavily in my stomach. My delicate stomach did not like it when the coach wheels hit a rut or went over uneven ground. I suppose that we were lucky though, as at least it was not raining and we did not have to contend with muddy roads.

To take my mind off my discomfort, I wondered what my reception would be at The Manor, where I was to hopefully gain a position. Would Miss Gibbons be a kind woman? Would she realise that I was not as I seemed?

Only time would tell if I was to make a success of this venture and in some ways I was just hoping to get the interview over with so that I would know my fate. Failure was not an option that would readily contemplate.

~*~

We made two further stops, the last one before our destination saw the shrewish lady and her companion leave the coach. We had not spoken one word to her and I for one was pleased that she had finally left.

The last few miles to the manor seemed to take an age. Julia tried to make me feel better and less anxious.

‘Do not worry dear sister; you are concerning yourself unnecessarily. Miss Gibbons is a strict woman, but fair. We are at the moment short of staff and I am sure that she will accept you. But here, look, there is the Manor, what think you of it?’

The sick feeling in my belly left me as we made our way up the long drive. The Manor, to my eyes looked huge, with many rooms and extensive lands. I wondered sat how many bedrooms the great place had, but I would no doubt find out soon enough.

The stagecoach went around the side of the house and then to the back. It was only some time later that Julia told me that she had to pay extra for delivering us directly. Normally we would have been dropped off in the village and we would then have had to find our own way to The Manor, not an easy task with our luggage, such as it was.

‘Leave the luggage by the wall,’ said Julia as she led me through a door.

For my part, I found it strange to walk wearing a long dress that went down to my ankles. I had to hold it up as I walked, as it was slightly long for me.

I found myself in a large kitchen, with sinks, pots and pans everywhere and all manner of equipment I assumed for the preparation of food.

To one side a woman in an apron was kneading dough. A younger girl appeared to be washing vegetables and yet another was cleaning china.

‘Julia,’ said the older woman, ‘there you are.’

‘Good afternoon Mrs Bradbury. This is my sister Georgiana,’

Without thinking I bobbed a curtsy as I had seen my sister do on occasion.

‘Well child, at least you have proper manners, unlike some I could mention,’ said Mrs Bradbury looking pointedly at the girl washing vegetables.

The girl just sniffed but did not look up from her work.

‘Georgiana, this is our cook,’

I just smiled shyly, thinking that I should not open my mouth unless requested to do so.

‘Mrs Gibbons is in her room Julia,’

‘Thank you cook,’ replied my sister who took me by the arm out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

‘Right take off your bonnet and cloak.’

I did as she asked and she did the same, hanging our things on hooks with other outer clothes already there.

Julia looked at my hair and moved a few strands away from my face.

‘You look lovely Georgiana. Just go in there and be yourself, that is girl self.’

I smiled rather tentatively, knowing that the next few minutes would probably help shape the rest of my life.

Julia knocked on the door.

‘Come in!’

Miss Gibbons sounded annoyed for some reason. I hope that she wasn’t going to be annoyed with me, as that would not be a very good start, if I was to be employed, that is. I was aware that my position at The Manor was far from assured.

So, it was with an anxious heart that I followed my sister into the room.

‘Miss Gibbons, this is my sister, Georgiana.’

Miss Gibbons was a thin woman, about fifty, I would say, with iron-grey hair tied up in a bun. She looked me up and down as I bobbed a courtesy. Said Miss Gibbons in a voice that brooked no argument.

‘Leave us Julia.’

With an apologetic look and a gentle smile, Julia left us.

‘Well, Miss Georgiana Digby, you are no doubt aware that I am the housekeeper at The Manor. Your sister tells me that you have some experience of work in the kitchen and around your house when you were at home. Is that correct?’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

She riffled through some papers and picked up a letter.

‘Let me say before we continue, that this household is not like others. We do not just take anyone here because we are short staffed. We only accept new people if and only if they are up to the highest standards that we expect from workers at The Manor. Do you feel that you could achieve this?’

‘I do hope so Ma’am.’

She looked at me for a moment and then seemed to relax slightly.

‘At least that is an honest answer. To continue, I have received a letter from your erm, mother, who sings your praises. Tell me why you think that you are suitable for the position?

I swallowed and then put my case.

‘Well Ma’am, I am a hard worker, willing to learn and able to work on my own initiative, if required. I know something of cooking, house cleaning, sewing, darning, and knitting. I enjoy hard work and feel that I would be useful to you.’

The last bit seemed a bit lame, but I could do nothing to retract any of my statement.

‘Do you read and write?’

‘I do Ma’am.’

‘Are you God fearing and attend church regularly.’

‘Indeed I do Ma’am.’

‘What are twelve times ten take away nine?’

‘One hundred and eleven, Ma’am.’

‘How do you spell specific?’

I spelt it for her.

She then asked divers questions and I managed, I think, quite well in answering them.

After my quizzing, she looked at me for a long moment and I wondered if I had given the wrong answers.

At one time, she must have been very pretty, but age and responsibility had etched lines on her face and made her seem perhaps older than my initial impression.

‘So you wish to be a scullery maid?’

‘If it is possible to do so, Ma’am.’

‘And you hope to be a good scullery maid?’

‘Indeed I do Ma’am.’

She picked up the letter from my mother. I wondered what were the contents? I hoped sincerely that she didn’t mention the not inconsiderable detail that I was a boy under my girlish finery.

She shook her head and then looked up at me.

‘It will not do,’ she said.

My heart sank; I was not going to be employed after all. I wondered then what would become of me, as I felt sure that I would not be welcomed back to the house of Uncle William and Aunt Sophie…

‘The position of scullery made will not do for you. You are intelligent, bright, presentable and subservient to your betters, all good qualities for a maid, an upstairs maid. It so happens that one of our upstairs maids has had to erm, leave for reasons that I will not go into.

‘Your sister is an upstairs maid and I will instruct her to teach you what needs to be known. I realise that you are very young, but your deportment and attitude appear to be older than your years. Are you willing to do this, bearing in mind that your station would be far above the scullery maid position that you are applying for?’

I did not think before replying.

‘I would endeavour to my best Ma’am.’

‘I take that to mean yes?’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

‘Sit down,’

She gestured to a wooden chair in front of her desk.

I carefully sat down, smoothing my skirts under me, as I had seen my mother and sister do often before.

‘You will be sleeping with your sister up in the attic. You will not fraternise with any male staff under any circumstances, even though, at your age I would not think that you would wish to do so. You will wash daily and bath using a tin bath once a week. Our master believes that cleanliness is next to Godliness. We are not one of those households that washing hands face and feet are enough.

‘You will learn all you can from your sister. She is a good worker and knows all that is needed to know. You will always speak respectfully to your betters and defer to them. Your sister will point out who is above you in this respect.

‘On no account are you to speak to the family or their guests unless requested to do so. Any conversation between the family or their guests are not to be repeated to anyone, regardless who they might be. As far as the family is concerned, you are to be seen, if the need arises and not heard. You are employed at the will of the master and lady of the house and you must obey the rules of the house or be dismissed. Is that clear?’

You are to make your own clothes from the bolts of cloth provided. Have you enough clothes to be getting on with?’

‘I think so Ma’am.’

‘Have Julia check over what you have. She will show you where the aprons and mob caps are stored.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

‘Very well, stay here.’

She left me to ponder what she had said to me. All I had hoped for was to be a scullery maid. I knew that the position was the lowest of the low, but I was willing to learn and by hard work and diligence, I would, hopefully, advance. Now however, I had had the extreme fortune of being able to be an upstairs maid, something that I hadn’t ever hoped for. I determined that I should be the best maid I could possibly be and not let down my sister or Miss Gibbons for their faith in me.

Miss Gibbons returned a few minutes later, followed by my good sister who had a smile on her face.

‘Well Georgiana, welcome to The Manor, said Miss Gibbons, ‘I hope that my faith in you is justified. You are very young for the work involved, but I believe you to be a hard worker and hard work will bring its rewards. Go now with Julie who will show you where to go and what duties you will be expected to undertake.’

We both bobbed a courtesy and left the room. As the door was closed, Julia turned to me excitedly.

‘Well Georgiana, what luck you have. It just so happens that we are more in need of an upstairs housemaid than a scullery maid and better still, you are to sleep with me and I can teach you all I know. You will be able to wear nicer clothes, although you have to make them, but I will help there. Come let me show you our bedroom up in the attic.’

We went up several flights of stairs. I wondered at the drab appearance of the staircase and hallways, but it was explained to me that only the main house was finely decorated, as the servants areas did not warrant such luxury.

A few times I nearly tripped on my long skirts, not being used to such clothing, but I soon learnt how I should hold the hem of my skirts up as I walked up and down stairs.

At last we reached the top of the house. We went along a narrow corridor with several rooms each side and then we stopped at one of the doors. Julia opened it and waved me in.

It was a plain furnished room with a bed in the centre by the far wall. Next to the small window, there was a plain wardrobe and chest of drawers. In a corner was a washstand with a china bowl.

The walls were mustard coloured and could have done with a lick of paint. The bare boards had a well-worn rug on it, for which I was thankful.

‘What do you think Georgiana?’

‘It is nice.’

‘Not so nice as the rooms downstairs, but it does for us. Mind you, as we normally work from five in the morning until late in the evening, you wont have much time spent in here.’

There was a knock on the door and Julia opened it.

‘Here is your luggage Julia,’ said a male voice.

‘Thank you Frank, you are so kind.’

‘Anything for you Julia.’

‘Get off with you Frank.’

He laughed.

‘See you later then.’

Julia pulled my luggage into the room and closed the door. She had a smile on her face.

‘Frank is sweet on me, but I want to do better. He feels that if he does enough for me, I would swoon at his feet.’

I found it hard to believe that men would court my sister, but I wasn’t interested in that sort of thing myself for obvious reasons. Mind you, she was pretty, so I shouldn’t be that surprised that she might turn men’s heads.

‘Mind you,’ continued Julia, ‘that sort of thing is frowned on here. Staff should not get involved with other workers or God forbid, the Family on pain of the sack.’

‘Have no fear for me on that score sister, as that is furthest from my thoughts.’

We both laughed.

The rest of the day was taken up with Julia showing me the rooms where I would be working and teaching me some of the tasks that I would be undertaking each and every day.

The Manor was very large and had countless rooms. I was to be responsible for looking after a number of those rooms and I could see immediately why so many staff were needed.

I marvelled at the lush richness of many of the room’s, halls and staircases. Many portraits hung on the walls of deceased family members. Other paintings were of landscapes around the extensive grounds of The Manor.

There were also busts and statues aplenty and they, of course, all needed cleaning on a regular basis.

The walls and ceilings were richly decorated in the finest materials and the ceilings were works of art, depicting scenes from the scriptures and other worthy subjects.

To say that I was in awe of the place where I could now call home, was something of an understatement.

As I lay in bed on that first night with my sister Julia by my side, I confessed to her that I was somewhat overwhelmed by the grandeur and splendour of The Manor.

‘I felt the same when I first arrived,’ said she, ‘now it doesn’t seem to bother me.’

‘It would be nice to sleep in one of the main bedrooms,’ I said wistfully.

‘That will never happen. You are lucky to be where you are. There are many in much worse conditions than you.’

‘I know. I am a dreamer, I realise that. I am happy with my lot and I thank you for helping me so much.’

‘That is what sisters are for. Do you miss being George?’

‘I thought that I might, but I do not. Somehow my presenting as a girl seems right to me. I feel more comfortable. As George, I never fit in and to be honest always felt girlish. My brothers wanted nothing to do with me and nor did the boys from the village. The girls all thought that I was strange and now I know why. I should have been born as a girl. I hope that God is not angry with me?’

‘I am sure that he is not. He put you on this good earth to be what you shall be.’

‘It is strange that other boys from the village of a similar age have almost all had their voices broken, developed more muscles and sprouted whiskers when I have not. Also, I have a tenderness here.’

I pointed at the nipples on my chest.

My sister bade me to take off my nightdress and she had a look at the problem.

‘Hmm it seems that you are a bit swollen. It may be something of nothing; perhaps your dress has rubbed somewhat. It could not be anything else as you are hardly equipped as a girl no matter how much we would both wish it!’

We both giggled at that.

‘Everyone ages at a different rate,’ continued Julia as I re-dressed and got into bed, ‘although I must admit that I see no signs of such maturity in you. We must hope that it holds off for a while, but I believe that if you do not develop further, we must somehow get you to see a physician so that he might decide what the problem is.’

I was comforted by my sisters’ words, despite the fact that such changes expected in me would be ruinous to my prospects of staying employed at The Manor.

But worrying about the future would be futile and therefore I just thank The Lord for my present good fortune.

‘Because of my excitement of the day, I found that I could not sleep. Julia also had the same problem. I broached a subject that had been puzzling me.

‘Julia,’

‘Yes dear?’

‘Miss Gibbons said that my predecessor had to leave. Do you know why?’

Julia was quiet for a moment and then sighed.

‘You will find out soon enough. Tongues will wag below stairs and it would be useful for you to know what can happen, if you are not careful. You must not discuss this with anyone though, as it is an embarrassment to all of us.’

‘I will say nothing.’

‘Well Amy Sterling was your predecessor and she slept where you are now. She was sixteen years old and somehow had her head turned by a member of the family, the honourable Phillip, to be exact. At seventeen years old, he is the eldest son of the master and by al accounts, a bit of a rake. To cut a long story short, they had an arrangement and met at the disused hunting lodge at the far end of the estate on infrequent occasions. How many times we are not sure, but somehow she managed to sneak away on errands and such like and they, not to put a finer point on it, had intimate relations. Inevitably, she became with child and she had to be sent away.’

‘Oh my,’ I said, ‘what a silly girl.’

‘She was silly, but between you and me, I blame Master Phillip. Amy was a simple girl and gullible. He is and always has been headstrong and willful. The family, of course, closed ranks and no blame appears, in public anyway, to have attached to the masters son. I will say no more on the subject and you are not to repeat this conversation to anyone.’

‘I won’t Julia. I promise.’

Soon after, as we had to be up at an early hour, Julia blew out the candle and we went to sleep.

~*~

Life as a maid was a hard one, but I soon fitted in and was accepted by the others fairly quickly. I soon almost forgot the family scandal as the day to day work left me little time to think.

Work started early and we finished very late. At first, I found the work hard, as I was not very strong and I tired easily. Julia was there to help me though and I soon became more proficient in my duties and she was able to leave me to my work more and more often.

Much of the work was to keep the furniture clean and under the direction of Julia and Miss Gibbons I was kept hard at it.

We started the day in the main floor apartments–the morning room, dining room, library, etc. with cleaning stoves and fireplaces, brushing carpets and sweeping floors, shaking curtains, dusting ornaments and mirrors as well as picture frames, and finally polishing furniture, unless there is a footman to do so. We then did the same in the first floor public rooms–the drawing room and the like. All this before breakfast!

I will not bore my reader with details of all the work that had to be done each and every day. For those in service, you will know all about it for those who are not, you probably do not wish to know. Suffice to say, time went quickly and for that I was truly thankful.

With Julia’s help, I had made several print dresses from the bolts of cloth provided to me, I wore the dresses during my duties together with white aprons and caps. I soon got used to wearing female clothes and sometimes after just a short while, I found it hard to remember that I was ever dressed as a boy.

The other servants, in the main, were good people. I had to remember my place at all times and defer to my betters in everything. Miss Gibbons was a hard taskmistress, but she was a kindly soul under her rather strict persona and I did what I could to stay in her good books. The butler Mr Worthing was a portly gentleman who spoke little to the female staff except to give orders.

It was interesting at our meal times. We sat at a long table in a room next to the kitchen. As a mark of respect, we always had to stand when the butler and housekeeper came in and we had to wait for them to sit before we could also do so.

The food was good and there was plenty for all. Living at The Manor meant that no one would ever go hungry, and the cook liked good plain cooking for us, even though the food above stairs was more fancy for my taste.

It was in my second week at The Manor that I first saw a member of the family. This was possibly because most of the family had been at their London residence for about a month.

I was cleaning the grate in one of the bedrooms. It didn’t need cleaning in my opinion, as it had not been used for a month, but I was not to question my superiors and I went to the job with a will.

I was so engrossed in my work that I positively jumped when I heard a voice behind me.

‘Am I interrupting you?’

In my surprise, I dropped the brush that I was using onto the hearth; it made quite a din.

I stood up and turned around. Before me was a young man in refined clothing, obviously not a servant.

I quickly bobbed a courtesy.

‘I am sorry sir, I did not know that anyone was going to be here at this hour.’

He looked at me with a slight smile playing around his lips.

‘Obviously not. What is your name?’

‘Georgiana Digby, sir.’

‘You are a pretty thing…oh are you this sister of Julia?’

‘Indeed sir.’

‘She also is very pretty. How old are you?’

‘Nearly fourteen sir.’

‘Very young for your position.’

‘Yes sir, I have been lucky.’

‘I am Phillip Trencham, Lord Trencham’s eldest son.’


 
To Be Continued?

Please leave comments and kudos, if you have time...thanks!

* The portrait is reputedly of Jane Austen at the age of 13, painted in 1789. The painter is unknown. I would like to think that Geogiana looks like this.

Sorry about the delay in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more in the future.

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Comments

Eek!

Tis himself! I get the feeling that he's looking for more trouble considering what happened to that other maid.

Wonderful stuff!
hugs
Grover

Thanks Susan,

this is an interesting story.

You have a knack for character development, and the Digby sisters are coming along nicely. The story background is also well done.

Please don't take too long for the next episode.

T

YES, PLEASE CONTINUE

It will be good for people living in this fantastic 21st century to learn how life was for the working class back in the bad old days !

Your account is very good, very accurate as to the hierarchies and the behaviour of the ones above towards the ones below in the pecking order. I know a bit about all this because my grandparents were "in service" and my own father was in fact born in a Workhouse. I was lucky to be bombed and evacuated out of London and to grow up in the country close to a big house with children that went to private schools. Having a very clever concert pianist Mother, and an Uncle who taught me to read at age 3, I had a chance to go on to a school and do well and eventually get into a University and become a scientist. I had to learn to speak with a different accent to be allowed to play with the rich children, but somehow I was accepted and managed to skip through the barriers of Class. Most poor kids did not, but my timing being born when I was gave me opportunities that others, before and alas now since too, have not had. I am forever grateful to all who helped me.

Dear Susan, this tale is well up to your usual high standard, and deserves to be continued. I look forward very much to reading the next episode, and thank you on behalf of everyone for sharing it with us all.

Briar

Unusual circumstances

These comments in no way detract from the content of the story and your superb storytelling.

Someone of 14 who could read in 1801 would normally have been above service. Males would have been snapped up by city firms as apprentices and females married off to some middle class manager - they were rare indeed.
And certainly above scullery maid. They would probably not have been employed by the manor as they would be too educated and those in charge would fear for their own jobs.
Oddly enough, cleaning the grate would have been the scullery maid's job and done long before any of the household were up and about.
I know it's only a detail and not really relevant except as a device to get Philip into the same room.
It is unlikely that they would have arrived by coach as the cost would have been prohibitive and above their station. They would have walked (using an unobtrusive service entry into the property) and the luggage would have been picked up by the supply wagon after the interview at a convenient time later. A coach would not have been allowed into the grounds (like a bus would not be allowed into Buckingham Palace).

Georgiana (a name, I feel, that would have been pretentious for working class)would have been stripped naked for inspection to check for skin diseases and given a scrub with carbolic soap to get rid of the fleas.
Pre industrial revolution was a lot more basic than most people realise. Disease was still rife, bloodletting and leaching were still prevalent as treatments and only if you could afford it; a servant could not.
Infant and child mortality meant the survival rate to adulthood was about 55% and 14 was considered adult. You could swing or be transported at that age.
Girls of working class were not generally any less robust than the boys nor worked less hard. Survival was a luxury.
Women (pregnant or not) were used to drag full coal trucks up mine passages so cramped that they were forced to crawl. The harness was chain, the fact you were pregnant irrelevant - you could not survive if you did not work.
Old age was from 50-60 - and you were lucky to reach 60.
And we're really only 100 years ahead of the most backward of the World's countries who use child labour and do not allow women the vote.
We truly live in a golden age where we can retire at 60+ and live another 40 years in reasonable health, subsidised by the nation.

The reason we don't see this sort of life in books is that they were written by people who had no idea it was going on - except maybe people like Dickens and Hardy who nevertheless romanticised the deprivations. The division between peasant/worker and gentry was so huge that it was impossible to bridge.
Women were chattels. Much as they are in some middle eastern countries today.

I second your comment

I was surprised the housekeeper did not check her teeth.

However being able to read and write I suspect is a device to make sure somehow she does become more than a maid someday. However in the mean time the 'little lord' has come home to do, what I suspect, mischief. I do believe the owners and the owners' family understand the game of keeping the servants in their place so for him to speak to her, whether or not she heard that story from Julia, should set off alarm bells.

Kim

Duality~2

Thank you all for your comments.

Jen, you raised a number of points. thank you for taking the trouble to comment, but I would like to take issue with you on some of them (in a friendly way, of course!)

Jen.

These comments in no way detract from the content of the story and your superb storytelling.
Someone of 14 who could read in 1801 would normally have been above service. Males would have been snapped up by city firms as apprentices and females married off to some middle class manager - they were rare indeed.


Me

The year that the story is set is 1815, not 1801. There were many children who could read and not all of them were “snapped up” as it depended on individual family circumstances.

Jen

And certainly above scullery maid. They would probably not have been employed by the manor as they would be too educated and those in charge would fear for their own jobs.


Me

Sorry, I can’t agree with this as I cannot see how a 14 year old girl could endanger the jobs of those in charge.

Jen

Oddly enough, cleaning the grate would have been the scullery maid's job and done long before any of the household were up and about.

Me

Most servants got up and were working by 5 o’clock in the morning and duties may have included cleaning grates in bedrooms.

Jen

I know it's only a detail and not really relevant except as a device to get Philip into the same room.
It is unlikely that they would have arrived by coach as the cost would have been prohibitive and above their station.


Me
If you read the story, you would see that Georgiana came from a reasonably well off family compared to many working class ones. Her mother was dying and wanted to help and it was she who gave some of what funds she had to help pay for the Inn and transportation costs.
Jen


They would have walked (using an unobtrusive service entry into the property) and the luggage would have been picked up by the supply wagon after the interview at a convenient time later. A coach would not have been allowed into the grounds (like a bus would not be allowed into Buckingham Palace).


Me

If you read the story, Julia was already a valued member of the household and had already put Georgiana’s name forward. There are other factors relevant and will become clearer in later chapters.

Jen

Georgiana (a name, I feel, that would have been pretentious for working class)would have been stripped naked for inspection to check for skin diseases and given a scrub with carbolic soap to get rid of the fleas.

Me

The name Georgian has some significance, as we will find out later. You forget that Miss Gibbons received a letter from Georgiana’s mother and also she was the sister of Julia, both of which are highly relevant and also will become clearer in later chapters.

Jen

Pre industrial revolution was a lot more basic than most people realise. Disease was still rife, bloodletting and leaching were still prevalent as treatments and only if you could afford it; a servant could not.

Me

I agree, it wasn’t an age that I would like to live in.

Jen

Infant and child mortality meant the survival rate to adulthood was about 55% and 14 was considered adult. You could swing or be transported at that age.


Me

Child deaths were very common and that was one of the reasons for large families, so that there adequate numbers of breadwinners.

Jen

Girls of working class were not generally any less robust than the boys nor worked less hard. Survival was a luxury.

Me

As has already mentioned, Georgiana was not very strong and subject to illness.

Jen

Women (pregnant or not) were used to drag full coal trucks up mine passages so cramped that they were forced to crawl. The harness was chain, the fact you were pregnant irrelevant - you could not survive if you did not work.
Old age was from 50-60 - and you were lucky to reach 60.
And we're really only 100 years ahead of the most backward of the World's countries who use child labour and do not allow women the vote.
We truly live in a golden age where we can retire at 60+ and live another 40 years in reasonable health, subsidised by the nation.


Me

I agree, we are indeed fortunate and we should count ourselves lucky up to a point as there are still inequalities in the world and the majority of the wealth is still in the hands of a relatively few numbers of people.

Jen

The reason we don't see this sort of life in books is that they were written by people who had no idea it was going on - except maybe people like Dickens and Hardy who nevertheless romanticised the deprivations. The division between peasant/worker and gentry was so huge that it was impossible to bridge.
Women were chattels. Much as they are in some middle eastern countries today.


Me

I agree that there have been and still are huge inequalities between men and women. Things are getting better, especially in the western world, but as long as the majority of men hold the important posts, women will always be at a disadvantage.

I suppose what I am trying to say regarding the story is that it is incomplete. The reader is not aware of what is going to happen and the reasons behind the apparent discrepancies of the period that the story is set.

I would ask that you are all patient and watch the story unfold. By the last page, it might make a bit more sense!

Anyway, thanks again for the comments I do love to have comments like these!

Hugs
Sue

Awoken by the scraping of fire irons

Grate cleaning upstairs would have been done after the patrons had risen and dressed as otherwise they would have been awoken by the maid in the bedroom. I guess Phillip wouldn't have minded ;)
The upstairs sitting rooms would have been done of course so I'm nit picking. Would young sir have been scouting out our protagonist on purpose? - horror the thought.

Scullery vs Upstairs Maids

Scullery Maids were generally restricted to the kitchens and associated locations. They were the lowest of the low in the Maid department. So much so that often they were kept out of sight of the employers. While grates are typically for Scullery Maids they did not go "Upstairs" as "Upstairs" was above their "Station". As such, the grates upstairs would have been handled by the Upstairs Maids or Footmen.

As an example of why a Scullery Maid would not be allowed to go upstairs just re-read when J & G were in the kitchen on first entering the Manor. Georgiana was courteous to the Cook while one of the Scullery Maids showed her mettle. That Maid I am sure is now wondering why SHE was not promoted to Upstairs Maid.

Ms Brown I should have known!!

Pamreed's picture

You are the champion cliffhanger here in BCTS. Actually am enjoying the story. Beginning to wonder
if there is some medical reason for Georgiana's lack of development. We shall see, wouldn't we.

Hugs,
Pamela

Gently, gently flows the story

I am truly enjoying the beginning of this tale. I appreciate the thouroughness with which you are creating scene, persona and zeitgeist. Even the pacing of the flow of language contributes to the atmosphere of gentility. Well done and please carry-on.

Joani