A Guide to Edwardian Servants suggests a bewildering array of glasswear:
The glass for water is set nearly in front of the plate, the glass for sauterne at the tip of the soup spoon, and that for sherry between the three, forming a half circle. Back of these, forming a second half circle, with the sauterne glass as the first in the circle, place the glasses for champagne and Burgundy, to accompany the roast and game, respectively.
How to set the cutlery, according to the Manual of Household Work and Management (1913)
‘The Pyramid’, ‘The Rose and Star’ and ‘The Fan’, just three methods of serviette-folding from Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management
Arrivals
As the guests began to arrive at the front door the footman, or butler where no footman was employed, was on hand to greet them and take their coats. He would then announce their presence to the host and hostess who would be waiting for their guests in the drawing room. Dinner was never served before the last diner arrived and, while the guests chatted with their hosts in the drawing room, the footmen put the finishing touches to the table, filling water glasses, bringing up the butter dishes and possibly laying the first course out, depending on its content. Seafood or canapés would be waiting for the party as they entered but soup would be served after they were seated.
While an air of calm and conviviality reigned in the drawing room, the kitchen was full of frenzied activity with all hands on deck helping the cook, or in the more fashionable households the chef, add the final flourishes to the meal.
At 8 p.m., providing all the guests were in attendance, the butler announced dinner. Each man was paired with a lady to escort to dinner according to their rank. The host would accompany the highest-ranking lady, who would then be seated on his right, while the hostess would take the arm of the highest-ranking man, who sat to her right. The remaining guests were paired off and seated according to their position, with the hostess informing each gentleman of the lady he should escort before the meal was announced.
Inside the dining room the footmen held the chair out for each diner and the host remained standing until all the guests were seated. Constitutional expert Alastair Bruce explains that the posture of the Edwardian upper class meant their spines rarely came in contact with the chair backs: ‘The dining room chairs may have a back on them but the back is for the footman to push in and out and not for them to rest their backs on at any time.’
Serving Etiquette
Despite the declining numbers of servants in the early twentieth century, the favoured style of service was à la Russe (or Russian style), said to have been introduced by the Russian Ambassador at the Court of Naples. This meant that all courses, except perhaps the first, were served by the footmen, butler and waiting maids, and each plate removed from the table in between.
Contemporary cookery and etiquette expert Janet McKenzie Hill in her Guide to Edwardian Servants advised:
It follows, then, that, where this fashion is adopted, a full staff of trained household employees is needed, if the wants of those at table are to be properly supplied. Dinner is the meal for which this formal service is best adapted, and even at dinner it should not be carried out in its entirety unless there be more than one waitress for each eight covers at table, since nothing appears upon the table save the centrepiece (at dinner, a bonbon dish or two is allowable) and the articles that compose the individual covers.
The advantages of the Russian style, as expressed in the Manual of Household Work and Management (1913)
This labour-heavy convention replaced the French or English style of service, in which the plates were placed in the centre of the table and the roast carved and distributed by the host. For less formal meals the two were combined in what Janet McKenzie Hill termed ‘Compromise Style’ which was, she wrote, ‘a “let down” from the formality of the Russian service and a “let up” to the arduous duties expected of the head of the house at a table served after the English fashion’.
For the servants there were many points of etiquette to remember. The courses were served from the left of the guest either on a pre-prepared plate or by proffering a dish of food from which the guest could serve himself. Wine and other drinks were to be served from the right and each glass filled to no more than two-thirds full. After each course the plates were removed from the right.
Any servant who committed the sin of forgetting a minor point at a dinner party would soon be corrected. According to Margaret Wylie in Not in Front of the Servants one parlourmaid in her parents’ employ at their London home, known by her surname Allen, passed the port in an anticlockwise direction and was told, ‘The other way please Allen.’ Allen, who had an Irish temper and was incensed by criticism in public, banged the decanter down on the table with a violent crash and marched out, slamming the door behind her. ‘Although she had been with us for as long as I could remember, and I was sad to part with “Lizzie” as I called her out of Mother’s earshot, she was dismissed the next morning,’ Wylie recalled.
During courses the butler was the only servant left in the room, ready to carve the meat on the sideboard and to refill wine glasses when asked.
Lady Cynthia Asquith commented that although butlers were undoubtedly ‘downstairs despots’ the granite-faced, unflinching stereotype was a rare breed:
I very seldom in real life encountered that common stage figure, the puma-footed manservant of impalpable presence and uncatchable eye. Few butlers, however imposing their mien and deportment, were above being visibly, at times audibly, amused by dining room jokes or mishaps.
Diners had to be careful not to upset the servants too, however. Former butler Charles Cooper revealed in Life Below Stairs how one of his employer’s guests, ‘a titled lady of a very old family who was most objectionable’, got her just deserts. She would make it her business to delay the serving of the meal by refusing to tell the footman whether she would like to partake in a particular course, much to the annoyance of the hard-pressed manservant. On one occasion, when she came to dinner, Cooper ‘instructed the footman to place the hot dishes upon her hand if she still showed the same indifference and this had the desired effect’.
The Meal
Not only would the dinner party consist of up to ten courses but also, in the finest houses, there would be three choices for several of those courses and a different wine for each. Charles and Elle Thomas-Stanford threw opulent dinner parties at their main house, Preston Manor in Brighton, throughout the first half of the twentieth century. Three of Queen Victoria’s daughters, Princesses Beatrice, Alice and Helena, were frequent guests, as was Rudyard Kipling. Below is a breakdown of a typical meal at their palatial home.
First Course
A choice of soups, such as consommé and fish soup, served with sherry.
Second Course
Fish, such as salmon, mullet or brill, served in a sauce, with potatoes, and white wine.
Entrée
Vol-au-vents, mutton cutlets or sweetbreads with champagne.
The ‘Remove’ or ‘Relevé’
This was the main course, consisting of a joint of meat or poultry, served with seasonal vegetables and potatoes that, in Preston Manor’s case, were cut to the size of matchsticks. This would be served with a good red wine, such as burgundy.
The Game Course
Duck, pheasant, partridge or snips, served with thinly sliced fried potatoes known as ‘game chips’, washed down with claret.
The Entremêts
From the French for ‘between servings’, this was a choice of three different types of dish – a vegetable dish, a sweet dish such as a fruit tart, or a savoury dish such as sardines or cheese.
Ices
Before this course, the table was cleared and fresh wine glasses placed on the table. The footmen then brought in some fingerbowls for the guests and laid dessert cutlery.
Port, Fruit and Nuts
When the ices were finished the dishes were removed and the dessert plates left in case anyone had any
room left for the fruit and nuts that followed. Port and Madeira were then served and the ladies retired to the drawing room leaving, as they had entered, in order of rank, while the men stayed over port, Madeira or brandy, and smoked cigars.
Coffee
Served to both parties in their respective rooms.
Just some of the entrées an Edwardian diner might expect, as illustrated in Mrs Beeton’s Book of Household Management
After the ladies had retreated the men were allowed to smoke. In some houses the men retired to a smoking room or library for their nightcap and cigar, but most stayed at the dining table, where they could discuss politics, business and other subjects considered unsuitable for the delicate female ear.
During the postprandial separation the butler was expected to be on hand in case further refreshments were required and the downstairs staff stayed on duty until the last guest had retired. According to Cynthia Asquith, hostesses were frequently upset by this ‘segregation of the sexes, often of long duration, for most hosts seemed to sit an unconscionable time over their port liqueurs and cigars’. She added that ‘the mistress of the house would worry if her staff were kept up too late’.
The following is a typical menu suggested by Edwardian cookery writer Janet McKenzie Hill.
Oysters. Brown-bread Sandwiches.
Consommé. Pulled Bread. Olives. Celery.
Baked Turbans of Fish. Potato Diamonds with Peas.
Cucumber Salad.
Sweetbread-and-Mushroom Croquettes, Asparagus Tips.
Roast Turkey. Cranberry Jelly. Mashed Potato. Fried Egg Plant.
Roman Punch.
Broiled Fillets of Venison. Red Currant Jelly in Rice Cups. Chicory Salad.
Macedoine of Fruit in Jelly (Individual Moulds). Whipped Cream.
Bonbons. Salted Almonds.
Coffee.
ROMAN PUNCH
Although more of a drink than a dish, Punch Romaine, or Roman Punch, was a popular addition to the Edwardian dinner party. It was served as the sixth course at the final dinner on the Titanic in 1912, after the main course of roast duckling and apple sauce and before roast squab (pigeon), asparagus salad and foie gras.
INGREDIENTS
6 cups crushed ice
2 cups champagne or sparkling wine
1 cup white wine
1/3 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
2 tablespoons lemon juice
Orange peel, slivered, optional
1 cup sugar
½ cup water
METHOD
1. In a large saucepan, combine the sugar and water and cook over medium heat, stirring gently until the sugar is completely dissolved.
2. Bring to a boil and simmer for one minute until the syrup is clear. Leave to cool.
3. Combine the crushed ice, simple syrup, champagne, white wine, orange juice and lemon juice. Mix until mixture is well combined.
4. Spoon the mixture into individual dessert cups. Drizzle with rum, if desired, and garnish with a sliver of orange peel. Serve immediately.
QUAIL AND BEEF PUDDING
This meaty creation was the speciality of former servant girl Rosa Lewis who became a celebrity in the early 1900s through her rags-to-riches story. She started in domestic service as a teenager and worked her way up through the ranks to become chief cook for the wealthy Duc d’Orléans. Having studied French cuisine she left service to start a business catering for dinner parties at rich households and was so popular that she had to employ teams of cooks. Her fame spread and she even cooked for King Edward VII, who was said to be impressed.
In 1902, she bought her own hotel, The Cavendish, in London’s Jermyn Street. Thanks to her management and her legendary cooking skills, it soon became one of the most exclusive hotels in London and earned her the nickname, the Duchess of Jermyn Street. The classic TV series, Duchess of Duke Street, was based on her life. And if there is any doubt that a lowly servant girl could improve her lot with hard work and determination, the proof is in the pudding.
INGREDIENTS
50g / 2 oz butter
Pinch of fine herbs
12 quail breasts, skin removed
450g / 1lb Aberdeen Angus beef, fat removed, cut into thin slices
75g / 3 oz button mushrooms
50g / 2 oz shallots, sliced
150ml / 5 fl oz fresh orange juice
1 sprig of fresh thyme
2 tablespoons brandy
Salt and freshly milled black pepper
150ml/ 5 fl oz game sauce
225g / 8 oz suet pastry (see pastry)
METHOD
1. Melt the butter in a large frying pan, add the herbs, quail breasts, mushrooms and shallots and fry for six minutes. Remove the quail and set aside.
2. Add the orange juice, thyme, brandy and seasoning to the pan, bring to the boil and simmer for at least twenty minutes until the liquid is reduced by half. Add the game sauce and reduce by half again.
FOR THE PASTRY
220g / 8 oz self-raising flour
1 level tsp baking powder
110g / 4 oz beef suet
Salt & freshly ground white pepper
Pinch of mace
Pinch of ground rosemary
60 ml approx of cold water to mix
1. Sieve the flour, salt, pepper and spices. Toss in the beef suet and stir in with a fork. Make a well in the centre and add just enough water to make workable dough. Knead for a few minutes and use immediately.
2. Line a 20-cm/ 8-in. pudding basin with the suet pastry and lay the quail meat and beef, before pouring on the prepared sauce. Cover the top of the basin with suet pastry and seal. Gently brush the top with melted butter and cover with a few layers of cooking foil. Steam the pudding in a covered saucepan for two hours, topping up the pan with water as necessary.
Making ‘game chips’
First of all you peeled the potatoes, then you got a clean tea cloth and laid it out full length on the table and sliced the potatoes by hand so thinly that when you held them up you could see right through them. They were like little rashers of wind. Then you covered them up with another cloth until they dried. Then you melted fat – lard not dripping because that was too coloured – in a frying pan, a very deep one, and when it was boiling and blue smoke came off, you dropped these crisps in, one by one, because if you dropped two in at a time they stuck together, they wouldn’t separate out. By the time you got the last one in, the first ones were already cooked, so it was a mad rush to drop them in and get the first lot out again.
Margaret Powell, Below Stairs
THE SEASON
From the middle of May to the middle of August, society families moved to their London homes for the ‘Season’. The summer was an endless round of balls, dinner parties, trips to the ballet and the opera, racing at Ascot and Epsom and the Henley Regatta. For the London staff it meant a hugely increased workload, more dinner parties to cater for and the occasional ball too. With so much socializing, the maid’s bedtime was often midnight or later and she would have to be up with the lark to scrub floors and black-lead the kitchen range. The master and mistress often brought servants with them to help out during the Season, leaving a skeleton staff at the country estate to keep the house ticking over, but it was non-stop work from dusk to dawn nonetheless.
Arthur Inch, in service for more than fifty years, was a footman at Londonderry House during one London Season, and spent a busy day wearing a pedometer as he rushed up and down the stairs and along the vast corridors. He calculated that he had walked eighteen miles without ever leaving the house.
As well as the extra dinners, there were hundreds of balls during the London Season. The parents of a debutante who was ‘coming out’ that year often rented in the capital and threw a ball to introduce their daughter to Society and, more importantly, to eligible bachelors. There could be as many as four balls in one night. For the servants, this meant laying on a lavish supper, and staying up very late indeed. In 1912, Lady Charlotte Bonham Cart
er’s mother threw a ball in a house in Eaton Square she had taken for her daughter’s first season. ‘Supper had to be taken downstairs unless it was a very grand house, like Surrey House,’ remembered Lady Charlotte in Lost Voices of the Edwardians. ‘Supper generally began at twelve and might consist of a clear soup, quails with white grapes and potatoes. It was a light but really delicious meal and you could take it whenever you liked.’ The servants who were up until the early hours clearing up must have been pleased this was a rare event.
Footman Eric Horne revealed in his memoirs What the Butler Winked At, ‘A London season is very tiring to servants. There is not only the day work but the night work as well. They would keep out regularly until one, two or three o’clock but we had to start work at the same time as the other servants. Often during the London season we were kept so short of our hours of sleep that I used to go to sleep on the carriage.’
The season ended in August when the grouse-shooting season began and most men went north for shooting parties.
SHOOTING PARTIES
The Edwardian shooting parties were lavish events that required yet more catering from the servants. The valets or footmen would accompany the men in order to load their guns and the maids would be up at the crack of dawn to cut sandwiches for the party. When the men returned with the spoils, the hallboy or scullery maid would be charged with plucking the birds and hanging them in the pantry or game larder until cook was ready to prepare them for dinner. As the shooters left early, the butler and remaining footman would take their lunch out to them on the moors or they would return to the house for a more substantial meal.
Life Below Stairs: True Lives of Edwardian Servants Page 8
