Her ladyship could be mean too over small purchases that I made for her. ‘Fancy buying that! Couldn’t you have made do?’ That sort of thing, and once when I took some cakes to eat myself after they had been taken from the drawing-room, she went for Mr Lee as if he’d lost the crown jewels. He didn’t give me away, but when I heard about it I told her that I was the culprit. ‘Oh, if he’d told me that I wouldn’t have minded; I thought it was one of the other servants,’ she said.
‘And why shouldn’t they have the occasional crumb from the rich man’s table?’ I demanded.
‘Shut up, Rose.’
Black or white, that was Lady Astor. That there was so much white was the wonder. She was spoilt from birth, for despite what her mother is supposed to have said, ‘I’ve had eleven children, all unwanted,’ the Langhornes were made to feel very much wanted, with everything that money could buy and the other things that money couldn’t, like love and happiness. She enjoyed the outdoor life and the débutante scene in New York. All right, her first marriage was not a success, but to what extent did she try and make it one? She ran back home a number of times, beginning with the second night of their honeymoon. She blamed the drink, but a lot of men drink, particularly if their wives are a bit unstable. After she was separated, and later divorced, from Mr Shaw, she toured round Europe so she could forget the unpleasantness. Then she had the wonderful good fortune to meet and marry his lordship, a great gentleman, a kind husband and one of the wealthiest men in the world. From what I’ve heard of their early years together he lavished everything upon her, love as well as his worldly goods. She was pampered in every way. I reckon that treatment would have destroyed most women, but that her ladyship survived it and became the great person that she did shows a phenomenal strength of character that her worst enemy couldn’t help but admire. From what I knew it was her love and feeling for others that saved her from becoming a spoilt darling. Cleverer people than I have talked about her as a supporter of causes. I believe that behind every cause was a person, someone she could identify herself with. She never talked politics to me, she only talked people, and I would later see the plight of these people turned into causes. She is famous for those she entertained. There’s no doubt she enjoyed meeting them. Entertaining with her was like an industry. Many people are said to have used her for their own ends, but she used many of them to make the lot of the poorer and more insignificant easier.
During the First War the Astors built a military hospital for Canadian soldiers. It was a model of its kind and was all paid for by his lordship. By the end of the war it could hold over six hundred patients. One of these, a Mr Guy, stayed on to work for the Astors in the estate office. He never stopped singing her ladyship’s praises. ‘I reckoned I was a goner, Miss Harrison,’ he told me, ‘nothing they did for me seemed to help. Then one morning along came her ladyship, only she was plain Mrs Astor then. “What are you so down in the mouth for?” she asked. “You look as though you think you’re going to die.”
‘“Well, it had crossed my mind, madam,” I said.
‘“Nonsense, that’s not the kind of spirit that’s going to get you better. I’ll tell you what,” she said, “if you pull yourself together and get well quickly I’ll give you a gold watch.” Well, from that moment on, everything seemed to go all right, despite the fact that I had to have four more operations. Every time her ladyship came to the hospital she came to see me and sort of dangled that gold watch in front of me. When I was on my feet again sure enough she gave me one, and here it is.’
I’m sure that gold watch was taken out more often to illustrate his tale than it was ever to look at the time. There were to be many other people that her ladyship assisted, as I was able to see for myself during the next war. Her generosity was not confined to the sick or disabled: she also often helped with the education of the children of the workers on the estate. Mr Lee tells a story which apparently was one her ladyship was very fond of using when she had a party in the lower dining-room at St James’s Square. She sat at the end of the table; opposite on the wall were two pictures, one of the first John Jacob Astor and the other the Sargent portrait of herself. During dinner she would point at them and say, ‘That’s the man who made the millions and that’s the woman who’s spending them.’
People found her what is called an easy touch. I’ve seen her give five pounds to a street beggar. This used to irritate me because they’d lie in wait for her, and it infuriated Mr Lee because he would be constantly answering the door to them. He was always meticulous in his treatment of them though, asking if they had an appointment to see her ladyship before dismissing them. It was a rule of his that was passed on to all the footmen. ‘Never judge a sausage by its skin,’ he’d say. ‘There’s many a duke dresses like a dustman, and many a dustman who tries to dress like a duke.’
If I was irritated by beggars in the street it was nothing compared with my feelings when her friends asked her for money. ‘You’ll never get it back, my lady,’ I used to tell her, watching her sign cheques for hundreds of pounds, ‘and it’ll only make them worse.’
‘Shut up, Rose,’ she’d say, but sometimes she took my advice. At any rate, my telling her made her think twice. There was nothing I could do about the Grand Duchess of Russia – Xenia, her name was. She’d been given a grace and favour house at Hampton Court by the royal family. Her ladyship would do anything for her; she gave her suits, dresses, underwear, got her anything she asked for and she gave her cheques. I’d say to her ladyship, ‘She’s got more money than you have, my lady,’ but she wouldn’t listen. When this Xenia died she left three hundred thousand pounds, and not a penny to Lady Astor. Then there was another of her friends to whom my lady was always giving money, presents and clothes; she died worth eighty thousand. How they could ask I don’t know. There was more pride amongst the poor than among some of the aristocracy.
Yet as I have said, her ladyship had her mean streak. There was a trick that she would play on me: ‘Would you like a chocolate, Rose?’ she’d say.
‘Thank you my lady, I would.’
Then she’d take one out of the box, bite into it, hand it to me and say, ‘You can have this one, it’s a kind I don’t like.’ I’d take it and throw it into the wastepaper basket. ‘You’ll want that one day,’ she’d say.
‘Not after you’ve bitten it, I won’t, my lady.’ She did it to me a number of times. I suppose she was waiting for the day I’d change my mind. I never did.
Then there was another lady, whose name escapes me, who used to bring her mending to Cliveden and sit doing it in the drawing-room. ‘Rose, it worries me, Lady So-and-so doing all this mending, she must need money very badly.’
‘I don’t agree, my lady, it’s probably by mending and patching that she keeps her money, and if you take my advice, you’ll keep yours. I’m certain I’ve more darns in my vest than she has.’ I knew this particular lady’s maid and she’d told me what her mistress was like, a nasty, cunning woman.
There was one occasion when I slipped up badly. Lady Astor had given a black coat she’d had trimmed with mink to a very deserving case. She asked me to pack it. I thought quite naturally that she would want me to remove the fur and keep it, so I unpicked it and took it to show her ladyship. ‘You can now go and sew that on again, Rose,’ she said. ‘When I give something away I give the whole thing, not just a part of it.’ I went upstairs with my tail very much between my legs. She was generous with her clothes to me and gave me many of her things. Not all ladies were like her. It didn’t suit them to think that their maids were well dressed when they went out. I never wore anything I was given by her when I was with her, it didn’t seem right to me, not that I think she would have minded.
Over the years she became very fond of my mother, whom she always made a point of meeting if she could whenever Mum visited me. She was continually offering me clothes to take to her, absurd things like evening dresses and cloaks. When I refused them she’d say, ‘Why, Rose? I’m sure your mo
ther would like them.’
‘My lady, to begin with she’s twice the size of you, and even if she wasn’t they’d look absurd on her.’
‘I just don’t understand you, Rose, if your mother doesn’t want them why don’t you just take them and sell them like other maids do?’
‘And what would you think of me, my lady, if I was like them?’
‘Shut up, Rose,’ she’d say, and get on with something else. She’d think of the staff when we were on our travels. One Christmas when we were away she asked me what I thought the indoor servants would like for presents. I was always ready with a quick answer on such occasions. ‘Why don’t you send them a Virginia ham each, my lady?’ This touched her American loyalty.
‘What a good idea, Rose, go to the estate office and order them.’ I did. They suggested a tinned one each, which may have been her intention, but I pooh-poohed that idea.
‘No, I’m sure she means them to have a proper one,’ I said. Was I popular when I returned home!
I shall always remember one Christmas some two years after I had joined when the presents for the women staff misfired. My lady, thinking perhaps that everyone had her own passion for hats, told Miss Irvine, her personal secretary, to buy one each for the maids; I’m glad to say I wasn’t included. It was of course an impossible task, but Miss Irvine made the worst of it. She bought identical hats in a variety of colours and sizes, all costing the same two and elevenpence, as was apparent since the price tags were left on.
On Christmas morning the servants’ hall was a riot, anger at first, but after a while the maids began to see the funny side and demonstrated it. Some hats were pulled over eyes and ears, others perched on the backs of heads. The footmen joined in the fun and Arthur Bushell minced round the room giving a remarkable imitation of her ladyship. Then someone started a football game with them and finally they all ended up in a splendid blaze in the fireplace.
Another time her ladyship said, ‘I think I’ll take the maids some lace collars and cuffs back as a present, Rose.’
‘Whatever would they want them for?’ I asked. ‘Nylons would be much more to their liking.’ It was a time when they were in short supply over here. Again it worked and I was sent to buy them three pairs each.
My greatest scoop though came very much later. Christmas had come round again and with it the usual question. I was ready. ‘My lady, you told me that you’ve left the maids a piece of jewellery each in your will. Why don’t you give it to them now, when they can give you their thanks and also enjoy wearing it?’
She clapped her hands with delight. ‘What a splendid idea, Rose, I’ll do it.’ She did, and was able to see the surprise and pleasure she had given them written all over their faces. I got my piece too!
Her ladyship was very stubborn; it was in her nature. If she didn’t want to do a thing it was the devil’s own job to persuade her to do it. I didn’t try, it wasn’t my place, but the boys and his lordship did, and nearly always failed. She couldn’t listen to reason. She was a creature of instinct and it sometimes failed her. She didn’t know the meaning of the word tact; I suppose she thought she could afford not to, but none of us can do that. Apart from the times she wanted to hurt she often did it without intending to. This caused pain for others, and herself. There were only three people she allowed to dominate her: Queen Mary; and her sisters Irene Gibson and Phyllis, Mrs Brand.
If outward and visible signs are anything to go by I think she loved Mrs Brand more than anyone else outside her immediate family. I was with her ladyship at Eydon Hall when she died. It was one of those unnecessary deaths. Mrs Brand had been out hunting, got soaking wet, caught a cold and instead of looking after herself allowed it to develop into pneumonia. When Lady Astor heard the news she was almost out of her mind with grief. Mr Blyth, Mrs Brand’s butler, came rushing to me and said, ‘Go to Lady Astor, she needs you.’ When I arrived at her rooms she was screaming, crying and praying. I took her in my arms and comforted her as best I could in my gruff Yorkshire way. Somehow it worked, her sobbing quietened down and whether it was that she had for the moment lost her inhibitions and could allow herself to give rein to other emotions I don’t know but she turned to me and she kissed me. It was then that I knew she had affection as others had. It was just that she thought it a weakness to show it, which of course was nonsense; all feelings need an airing now and then.
It’s funny though how people who control their own emotions seem to like and need a show of affection from others. This was the case with her ladyship. On her birthdays when I first went into her room I’d greet her, give her a kiss and say, ‘I’m afraid I haven’t got a present, my lady, that’s all I have to offer.’
‘And that’s all I want from you, Rose,’ she’d say, as if I’d given her the earth.
I think I should make it plain that affection was the only emotion I can think of that her ladyship did not display. Others could have done with toning down quite considerably; they got too much exercising for my taste. Like the good actress that she was she could cry to order, and like a baby she frequently did so, so as to get what she wanted.
Women, according to men, are unpunctual creatures. With Lady Astor unpunctuality was a disease and it made my life that bit more difficult having to work against time. When at last she was ready for whatever occasion it was, I then had to cluck round her like an old hen to get her away and meet a volley of ‘Shut up, Rose’s for my pains.
Then his lordship would say to me, ‘Please see Lady Astor is on time tonight,’ as though it was my responsibility. Eventually, on important occasions, I would put all the clocks and watches on a few minutes; I couldn’t do it too often or she would have tumbled to it. By the time I went to work for her she had learnt that trains usually left on time, but that was all. The only two other occasions when her ladyship was punctual were for royalty or when she went to claim her seat at the House of Commons, a corner seat above the aisle. I think she’d have waited up all night if necessary to make sure she kept the same one.
With Cliveden being so near to Windsor Castle it was easy to anticipate the time royalty would arrive and have everyone in position to greet them. Mr Lee had an arrangement whereby the Castle would phone him directly the visitors had left, and he knew almost to a second the time it took for them to get to us. Foreign royalty too generally came from the Castle. There was one embarrassing occasion that Mr Lee recalls when King Gustav of Sweden was expected. On the signal from the Castle he posted two footmen on the door and went to tell Lady Astor. She was nowhere to be found. Search parties were sent out and Mr Lee arrived back at the door at the same time as his Majesty. He had no option but to say he couldn’t find her ladyship. ‘Never mind, Lee, how are you?’ said King Gustav, as he was taken through to the drawing-room, and together they engaged in conversation. Suddenly Mr Lee spotted her, playing golf in front of the house. He pointed her out to his Majesty, who roared with laughter and, ordering Mr Lee to stay in the house, made his way out to surprise her. ‘I’ll put her off her stroke,’ he chuckled, as he left the room. Mr Lee, who was on terms with many of the royalty, found the Swedish king one of the most easy and charming that he knew.
As time went by, and as her ladyship and I grew accustomed to each other, we became closer, though anyone listening outside the door to one of our ding-dongs wouldn’t have thought so. Unlike my previous ladies, or any others that I knew of through other maids, she confided in me on personal matters. I’ve never, nor would ever, betray her confidences. There is a kind of Hippocratic oath like doctors have, with servants. Mr Lee saw that it was observed. ‘Peeping Toms have no place here,’ he’d say, if he heard even the whisper of an indiscretion. Anything more than that meant instant dismissal.
Gossip of a certain kind wasn’t discouraged, and I think most of us enjoyed it. I know I did, but it was as well to know where to draw the line. Life isn’t any the worse for living to certain rules. At any rate I know we had a very happy staff at the Astors’. I noticed the differe
nce as I visited around with her ladyship. I suppose I’m making these remarks because I’m leading up to her attitude towards sex. Obviously a personal maid knows certain things about this side of her lady’s life. I shall talk about it now not as it concerned her relationship with his lordship, but from her comment and behaviour in general. She was hot-blooded by nature. She had five children. Yet she was fastidious and so was her husband. They disliked even the most witty or sophisticated reference to anything of a sexual nature and coarseness was not tolerated. Any guest who wandered over the border of what they considered acceptable would never be asked to come again. This was common knowledge among their class and few ever were indiscreet. In a way I suppose her ladyship was like Queen Victoria in her attitude to sex. To them both it was an intensely personal thing. A remark of Lady Astor’s that was often quoted was, ‘I can’t even tolerate seeing two birds mating without wanting to separate them,’ and this was often used to try and show that she was frigid. I don’t see it that way. She was an inveterate match-maker, not with her own children, but with other people’s. She liked good-looking, virile young men, but the parading of sex embarrassed her, so did vulgarity.
She could often be wild. Some people say it was the Irish in her. I don’t think so. The Irish haven’t got the monopoly of wildness. It’s my opinion that it came from her Southern American upbringing and was an inheritance from her father. It was something that came out in so much of her life – in Parliament, at her parties, in sport – and it was so unpredictable. It used to worry his lordship no end. One of the worst moments was when T. E. Lawrence, Lawrence of Arabia, came to visit us. He was one of her ladyship’s closest friends. He’d driven over on a motor-cycle. He and her ladyship must have been talking about it because suddenly both of them got up, rushed outside, jumped on his bike, her riding on the pillion, and drove off at top speed in a cloud of dust down the drive.
Rose: My Life in Service to Lady Astor Page 10