by Flo Wadlow
That’s coming quite thick now. I thought because I left off stirring that I was going to have a lump in it! I’ve got a whisk anyway. I’ll add a bit more milk. There was a tamis cloth to get rid of lumps. The only place I used a tamis cloth was at Hatfield. It was a very fine cloth and it would need two of us, the head kitchen maid and I. We’d put the soup, for example, into the cloth, over a bowl and we’d work it through the cloth with a couple of wooden spoons – so it came out very fine indeed. There was also a ‘hair sieve’ and most people thought that was quite enough – but at Hatfield you had to have a tamis cloth.
You put the sauce over the chicken, then you would let that get cold in the fridge. You might decorate it with little diamond shapes cut from cucumber skin. With a brush you would baste it all over with aspic, which had been melted in a saucepan, to give it a shiny finish. It should be quite smooth on the top – it shouldn’t have no lines. Then back in the fridge.
We used to decorate it too with pimentos or truffles. We had cutters in shapes like hearts and diamonds, clubs and spades, so you could do hearts and diamonds with pimentos and clubs and spades with truffles.
For the sixteen guests for this special lunch you would have had two servings of everything.
You generally did it for eight. If there happened to be just ten you wouldn’t do two dishes, but mainly you would do things for eight. If there were twelve people for lunch you would do two sixes. You’d have eight pieces of chicken on one dish and eight on another, and you’d have the butler and the head footman to serve it – or perhaps waiters came in. They would serve the lady of the house first and then the principal guest. They used to help themselves to the meat – presented to them on their left-hand side. Serving things up in the dining room was different from what they do in restaurants and what they do on the television nowadays. It was differently presented. You didn’t put one piece on a plate and garnish that – you garnished the dish.
As his Lordship wasn’t married, his sister would sometimes come and stay. She was Lady Cecil Kerr, and another sister sometimes came. They would be served first. In the case of Queen Mary, she would be the first. The footman would come round with the salads and they helped themselves to whatever salads or vegetables they wanted.
And after lunch when the Queen was going out to see the pageant, Flo and the others did get to see the royal visitor – through the window. If the photographs in the local press are evidence, the pageant was quite spectacular.
Lady Hastings was Lady Boleyn and Lady Hastings’ daughter was Anne Boleyn. Lord Walpole was Lord Percy. Anne Boleyn and this Lord Percy were very much in love before they ever thought of her marrying the King. Henry VIII took part, and there was also Cardinal Wolsey. In this pageant King Henry came down to ask the Boleyn family for the hand of Anne in marriage (I don’t think he asked). There were all the gentry from round and about.
The actors who were supposed to be the village people put on a play to entertain the King, like they used to have the Mummers Play years ago. And it was all done in lovely broad Norfolk. Mr Broad, who lived in Heydon, was St George. When I came to Heydon to live, and I worked at The Grange, Mr Broad used to come there, and I often laughed at him and said, ‘Here comes the Turkish Knight. I’ve come from Turkish lands to fight. Here comes St George from Hampton Court, he’s only got a wooden sword!’ Mr Broad always used to answer me back by saying: ‘A wooden sword, you dirty dog!’ When they were rehearsing I could say it nearly all off. I always remember the Turkish Knight.
This is how the local newspaper reported Queen Mary’s visit, and the Blickling masque:
QUEEN MARY AT THE MASQUE
Queen Mary was warmly cheered by the 300 performers in the ‘Masque of Anne Boleyn’ when she attended the last of the afternoon performances at Blickling Hall yesterday. The audience of over 1200 people joined enthusiastically in the applause as her Majesty, who was all in white, with a white plumed toque, walked from the Hall to her seat in the Royal box in one of the stands.
After the National Anthem had been played there was a charming incident. Roland Price, the little boy who played the part of Cupid so boldly in the prologue and epilogue, stepped up to the Royal box and presented her Majesty with a bouquet of red and white carnations.
Queen Mary’s presence set the seal on the success of the masque, to which she had already given her patronage. The performances, which ended last night, were in aid of the Aylsham Church Restoration Fund.
It is understood that her Majesty was entertained to luncheon by Lord Lothian at Blickling Hall, before attending the performance. A few moments before three o’clock, her Majesty came out of the main entrance of the Hall chatting to Lord Lothian. Among others in the party which followed her to the stand were Lord Hastings, the Home Secretary (Sir Samuel Hoare), H.M. Lieutenant for Norfolk (Mr Colman), and the Bishop of Norwich. Lord Hastings sat at Queen Mary’s right hand throughout the performance. Both Lady Hastings, and her daughter, the Hon. Jean Astley, had prominent parts in the masque, Miss Astley as Anne Boleyn and Lady Hastings as her mother, Lady Boleyn.
Two scenes from ‘The Masque of Anne Boleyn’, performed in the summer of 1938 in front of Blicking Hall. The lower picture shows the mummers’ play with St George and the Dragon.
The next day, or the day after, his Lordship came down again to the kitchen, and thanked me very much for all that they’d had. That was the second time I saw him.
And when, for her Radio 4 programme, ‘Poulet Chaud et Froid’ was once again ready to serve, it looked every bit as good as it must have done back in 1938. The programme presenter, Adrian Bell, and the cook had of course to sample the food. Adrian Bell was very enthusiastic and declared: ‘Mrs Wadlow, you have not lost your touch!’
Mr and Mrs Bob Wadlow, covered in confetti after their marriage in St Peter Mancroft Church, Norwich.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Wartime and Later Life
Flo Wadlow had coped amazingly well with the demands of the important job of cook at Blickling in her early twenties, and doubtless had it not been for the war, she might well have stayed. In her last two posts she had realised her ambition to work for the aristocracy, and had even had a brief taste of cooking for royalty, although working for the Royal Family had never been a particular aim!
I don’t think I ever thought as high as that. They said that the people in control, the heads of the households, weren’t very easy people to work for. You always found, in service, or nearly always, it wasn’t the lady and gentleman who caused any trouble that there was. It was the cook or the butler who were the ‘top dogs’. They were going to be bowed down to. You had to treat them with respect. I never minded that, it was all part and parcel of it. I was good at my job and they were good at theirs and that’s all that mattered. You’re a cog in the wheel really, to help things along. At Hatfield we were ever so busy and we worked ever so hard – hardly ever had a Sunday off – but it was nearly all worthwhile, when I think back.
I was always taught – my mother told me – to be deferential to older people, and people in high positions, like you would be to your schoolteacher or the parson, and the Lady of the Manor. Of course you would be. It came naturally to me, but I don’t think it came naturally to all the staff. My mother said it didn’t cost anything to be polite; she was always strict about that. I wasn’t the type of girl who would answer them back, and if they asked me to do anything I tried to do it to please them. Well there was a better atmosphere if they were pleased, wasn’t there? So I did work hard on public relations because I think it makes life so much nicer, and things work so much easier, if you’ve got a lot of work to do and there’s a happy atmosphere to do it in.
We are all part of history aren’t we, in a very minor way, each one of us? I saw the Silver Jubilee of King George V and Queen Mary when I was in London, and I did see the funeral of King George V. It’s all part of history, and especially living through the war.
Having the radio too, that brought it home to us. Y
ou could keep up to date. We thoroughly enjoyed our radio, in the kitchen. It wasn’t quite like the television, but you were aware of things and if you’d got any imagination at all, you could imagine things that were going on in the world. We used to have the music on and we used to sing ‘Auf Wiedersehen’ and ‘In the Chapel in the Moonlight’. They were the loveliest songs – and a lot more tune to them than what there is today.
I didn’t ever think about coming to Blickling, nor about being a cook at that time. I didn’t think I was experienced enough. But I came to Blickling, settled in here nicely, found a young man – and that was that! I was friends with my husband and he wanted us to get married. I wasn’t really sure about getting married. I would have liked to have gone in the forces but he wasn’t very keen about that. He thought I would meet somebody else! I couldn’t have wished for a better husband. He had a lot to put up with!
After Blickling I went to the Bethel Hospital and worked in the kitchen there, which was a different experience altogether. We had to cook for the patients and for the nurses and staff as well. There were two of us cooks there and a kitchen maid, and a woman in the scullery as well, for washing-up. I wasn’t there very long.
My other joy in life is sewing. I always loved it – and helped my mother. So I went to work at Harmer’s making uniforms for air crew. I got on very well there, and that’s what I did in the wartime until I found out I was expecting. When I went to Harmer’s the girls there laughed at me – ‘skivvying’ they called it. But the people I met in service were streets above them. For a long time afterwards I wouldn’t tell people I’d been in service. You wouldn’t say anything about it. But now people are interested because it’s a way of life that has almost gone.
I met my future husband Robert Wadlow at a dance. There was going to be a dance at Heydon village hall for the Poppy Appeal and we all cycled over there. We used to put our hair in curlers and put our dresses in an attaché case on the back of our bikes, and we took our curlers out when we got to the village hall, and put our dresses on – all dressed up like a dog’s dinner. My husband was there; he was rather a shy young man. He always was rather shy, but I thought how nice he was – and he had lovely auburn hair. I teased him rather a lot – that’s how we became friends. He worked at the lime kiln at Heydon.
I married in March 1940 and I should imagine I was the only girl ever to get married from the Bethel Hospital. I walked from the hospital down to St Peter Mancroft. I found a little house in Norwich and gave up my job and went to live there.
Bob was in the Territorials and was posted to Weybourne and Cheshire, before going abroad with the Royal Norfolks to Singapore, in 1941. I didn’t really know whether he was alive or dead for ages. He didn’t know when Terry was born – not for a long time, and Terry never saw his father until he was nearly four.
We had the Blitz in Norwich and my mother-in-law, who lived in Corpusty, said, ‘You don’t want to stay up here in Norwich and get killed, with a baby coming as well.’ She knew where there was a little cottage in Heydon – part of a wood it was. Would I like to go there? She said, ‘Should I go and ask the lady, Mrs Bulwer [Senior] if you can have that?’ My mother-in-law told her I’d been a cook at Blickling, so they knew about me and they said I could have that cottage. While I was staying with my mother-in-law, they put a new roof on the cottage and they put me a new copper in the kitchen for my washing and an oven in the wall. That was lovely and oh, that cooked lovely bread and pastry. Of course there was no electricity or anything there – just this little cottage. I had a well in the garden and had to draw all the water, and had to use that and boil a copper for washing. That was everyday work for mothers with children in them days – all that rubbing on a washboard. Although I soon had my baby, and it was lovely to look after him, that was really the saddest part of my life, hearing nothing from my husband.
Mrs Bulwer wrote to me once and put ‘Bluestone Hall’ as the address. My Uncle Alf [who was the Charter Mayor of Dagenham] was thrilled at that, so he drew me a coat of arms. It had a well, an axe to chop the wood with and a blackcurrant tart to go in the oven in the wall!
‘Bluestone Hall’ was the rather grand name for this cottage near Heydon, where Flo lived after her marriage.
I hadn’t been in Heydon all that long when Mrs Bulwer came and said she’d heard that I’d been a cook, and her cook had left, so would I go and cook her lunch at The Grange? At first it was just lunches. There was rationing, so we couldn’t have too great meals, but I noticed that she always managed a bit better than some people. Well of course, it was understandable, because living on an estate, the farm had pigs and there were chickens. Before the war days and after the war, Heydon Hall was lived in by the Bulwer family, but it was let to people during the war.
Mrs Bulwer (‘Aunt Bee’ to the family) was a marvellous person. She was a very autocratic old lady, but that didn’t cut any ice with me! We got on ever so well really and she was very kind. She had a lot to do with the Friends of Norwich Castle. Her collection of teapots is there. She had a whole room at The Grange, with shelves and teapots. To start with I just went about three mornings a week and cooked a meal. My little boy Terry was just about one when I went to cook for her and he used to come too. When he toddled about he could play outside and the gardener, Mr Rowe (who was the chauffeur as well), would take him for a ride in a barrow, on a pile of garden rubbish! Terry thoroughly enjoyed it as well.
Mrs Bulwer did have a maid, Alice, who was her personal maid and housemaid. Once, Alice went home for her holiday and Mrs Bulwer asked me if I’d come and live in for a while. She used to invite me into the drawing room after she had had her supper at night, so we could listen to the nine o’clock news on the wireless and hear how the war was going on.
My cousin had been in the Merchant Navy and was going to get married. They lived at Chadwell Heath, near Romford, and I was invited to go to the wedding. Mrs Bulwer said, ‘Oh you must go.’ But I said, ‘The war has just finished and people are beginning to hear about the prisoners coming home.’ So she said, ‘I’ll go and see the postmistress and if there’s a telegram for you, they can bring it to me and I will ring your uncle up, where you’re staying, and make sure you get the news.’ And I got the news on the day of my cousin’s wedding. That was the day when I heard my husband was alive and would be coming home.
On the Monday after the wedding, me and Terry came home by train, to Cawston. Mrs Bulwer with her car and chauffeur came to meet us at the station. She brought the telegram as well, and took me back to Heydon.
The Bulwer family asked me one day whether I would like to come and live in the village, and I said, ‘As long as there’s electric light!’ And they said ‘yes’.
‘I’ll come!’ I replied. I never looked at the cottage or anything. So I was actually in the village by the time my husband arrived home, nearly a month later. He came home by boat, and it was a good thing in a way, ’cause they could build them up. They were like skeletons. Later I moved over the road, next to the smithy, and lived in this cottage for almost fifty years.
After my husband came home, I left Mrs Bulwer and later on I had my other son, Rob. The Bulwer family asked my husband if he’d like a job on Heydon estate – which he took. After a time Mrs Bulwer left The Grange and went and lived in ‘The Old Cottage’ [featured in the film The Go-Between].
Mrs Mary Bulwer, her niece, had married the gentleman who was to become Brigadier Long. Later her maiden name was added and she became Mrs Bulwer-Long, to preserve the Norfolk ‘Bulwer’ name. With her husband in the army they were out in Germany for a long time after the war.
But they nearly always used to come home in the school holidays, to The Grange in Heydon. One time Mrs Bulwer-Long came and asked me if I would go and do the cooking while they were there, which I did. For Mrs Bulwer-Long I did a lot of other things and a lot of her friends would ask me to go and do dinner parties, or lunch parties.
The Brigadier came out of the army and he came home,
so I used to go in more regularly. While the children were growing up they used to let the Hall to different people and often I would do dinner parties for them.
I enjoyed, and still enjoy cooking – any kind really, whether it’s making ordinary cakes or wedding cakes, cooking a meal or doing a buffet. I’ve done no end of things since I left full-time service. I went to the Tech, but through the WI I did a special icing course. Then, when Miss Mary Anne Long got married [to Mr Charles Shippam] at Heydon, I made their wedding cake. I also made her going-away outfit! And of course – all the girls in the village – I made their wedding cakes, and for a lot of them I made wedding dresses or bridesmaids’ dresses. When Captain William Bulwer-Long got married to Miss Sarah Rawlinson [daughter of Sir Frederick Rawlinson] it was at St Margaret’s in Westminster. Of course we had a coach, and all the village went up for that. I made the cake, which was taken up to London for the reception in the Hyde Park Hotel. I was very proud when the head waiter asked Lady Rawlinson, ‘Is the lady here who made the cake?’