Rose: My Life in Service to Lady Astor

by Rosina Harrison

  Yes, Ascot week was really hectic. Every guest-room would be occupied. The kitchen and stillroom staff had prepared the cold meats days before for the buffet lunches, for although most of the visitors went racing, some stayed behind to keep her ladyship company. Breakfast was served at eight-thirty and there’d be a dozen hot dishes to choose from. Before this the footmen would have been scurrying along the passages with early morning tea and brass jugs of shaving water. Then downstairs to clean shoes and iron the laces. Some of the ladies’ maids, like me, would even wash laces before ironing them. Then there were the breakfast trays to be prepared and carried to the ladies who couldn’t face other people at that hour of the morning.

  Frank Copcutt would be in very early to replace flowers and plants, and to rearrange the many vases and bowls. Later he would reappear with a tray of buttonholes and sprays for the racing party to choose from as they assembled in the hall to be escorted to their cars. There would be a large selection so that the ladies could choose those that went with their colour scheme for the day. The carnations for the men were again of different colours and sizes. As Frank said to me, ‘His lordship always chose the smallest he could find. On the other hand, the Duke of Devonshire wanted the biggest. One day I took along a huge red one and as he went to the trays I handed it to him. “Who do you think I am, Frank, a blooming poof?” he retorted.’

  At around six o’clock the racing party would return, in what kind of spirits depended on their success with the horses. Frank drew my attention to something rather extraordinary. ‘You know, Rose,’ he said, ‘I could nearly always tell the winners from the losers by the state of my button-holes when they came back. Flowers seemed to reflect the feelings and expressions of people.’

  At seven forty-five the gong would sound in the hall, which was the signal for all the guests to go to their rooms and dress for dinner, though I’d be lucky if I got her ladyship up on time.

  The grand finale of Ascot was the Royal Ball at Windsor Castle. This my lord and lady always attended, as did many of the guests. It meant, as can be imagined, a busy and worrying day for me. Once again I’d put all the clocks on in her room. ‘Is that the time, Rose?’ she’d say as she came in to change.

  ‘Yes, my lady,’ I’d lie. ‘You’ll have to hurry and get ready.’ And of course it was kitchen stove night; fixing the Astor tiara was a business with a bobbing excited figure; and I’d have been having kittens all day with the thousands of pounds’-worth of jewels in my safe. I practically lived in her room. When I’d thought we’d finished her ladyship would examine herself inch by inch. She was particular when she was entertaining in her own house, but when she was going out she was obsessional. Eventually, when she was satisfied, she’d rush to the door, say ‘Goodnight, Rose,’ and down she’d run to the hall, like Cinderella after the ball, thinking she’d only got seconds to spare. Either his lordship was always early or Arthur Bushell told him about my ruse with the clocks, anyway she never tumbled my deceit.

  All the servants, and I think his lordship as well, used to heave a sigh of relief when Ascot week was over. For most of us it had been eighteen hours a day for the past fortnight, no time off, and none of us had been out of the grounds, and so it happened year in, year out. There was one exception, though it was before my time. Mr Lee recalls it as if it were a nightmare. ‘Freddy Alexander, my under-butler at the time, was what I can charitably describe as a seasoned drinker, Miss Harrison. As he told me, he not only wanted a pint, he needed it. So I made an exception in his case. “You can go to the Feathers” – which as you know is the pub at the end of the drive – “but you can only leave while the guests are changing for dinner, and only so long as you are back on duty in time. But take care you are not seen by other members of the staff, and in particular not by her ladyship.” I didn’t need to tell him to take the smell of drink off his breath, he always carried a packet of cloves in his pocket and generally reeked of them. He promised this, and was duly grateful.

  ‘One day he must have left it a bit late, so he took a short cut under the front terrace. It would have been all right if her ladyship had been changing as she should have been, but she was on the terrace, talking to that other woman Member of Parliament, Mrs Wintringham. “Where are you going, Frederick?” she shouted.

  ‘“Not where you think, my lady,” was his reply.

  ‘Well, she did continue to think, and I don’t know whether he considered he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, but he was missing throughout dinner. After the meal I was keeping an anxious eye open for him and eventually saw him weaving his way back, again in front of the terrace.

  ‘“You blithering idiot,” I thought. So did Lady Astor. I got him as he came through the back door and ordered him into his room, and told him to stay there. But her ladyship had got the bone in her mouth, and she was determined to shake it.

  ‘“Where’s Frederick?” she demanded when I returned. ‘“He’s unwell, my lady.”

  ‘“You mean he’s drunk, Lee.”

  ‘“Yes, my lady.”

  ‘She turned away angrily. She didn’t tell me to dismiss him, but I had no option. Things are a deal easier today, but discipline then was tight; so, for that matter, was Freddy,’ Mr Lee allowed himself to quip. ‘He didn’t make it hard for me. “Of course I’ve got to go,” he said, “you’ve no option.” I was sorry to lose him but was able to see he got a reference.’ That all-important document; a reference.

  So, as I hope I’ve shown, entertaining for the Astors wasn’t just something that they did, it was indeed an industry. Now there will be people who will criticize them and talk about poor people and the unemployed. But this was the accepted way of life at that time: people spent where it gave them the most pleasure. They also provided employment and kept money circulating. Workmen and tradesmen alike were grateful to them. And they also gave enjoyment to their own class. And why not? Comparisons are supposed to be odious: I think that they can also point the truth. I’ve never heard of anyone today who won half a million on the pools giving the money away for the betterment of mankind. It’s not in the nature of things.

  7

  The Astor Family

  As I was afraid I would when I began, I have given the impression that we served only one person, Lady Astor. This isn’t true and I must try and explain why. In fact the standards of service and behaviour were set by his lordship, reflected on to Mr Lee and in turn from him on to us. Mr Lee had joined as a footman in 1912. A few years later he became valet to Lord Astor and was therefore very close to him. He liked and admired everything that he saw of Lord Astor and tried to emulate him either consciously or unconsciously. And not only outwardly. He caught a lot of the inner man too, so that when he came to a position of authority he was able to command us in the same way as his lordship had, through example. Everyone is the better for having known a good person. Mr Lee was in a way an intimate of Lord Astor’s and later a disciple. A good commander, a man of real worth, delegates authority. He doesn’t keep running around to see if his orders are being carried out – he doesn’t need to. He has trust and gives it; the moment that trust is abused he knows it and takes action, but he’s also aware that the more that he gives the greater will be his return. That was his lordship and that was Mr Lee. It wasn’t Lady Astor. It wasn’t her fault, nor was it true all the time, but she had to interfere; it was in her nature, and she had to test from time to time to make sure that even those to whom she had seemed to have given the most trust were not taking advantage of her, but responding to her with loyalty. She did this with me almost to the end of her life.

  Lord Astor was a good man of great stature. When you read about such men they seem dull, but to be with they are not, nor are they to remember. Without his lordship I am certain that a small part of history would be changed. Her ladyship would not have been the first woman Member to take her seat in Parliament, she would not be famed as a hostess; for one thing she would never have kept the staff to do it. His presence p
rovided the stability and the permanence that was necessary for her to dance her life around. Having said that it is almbst all there is to say. He had chosen a political life; it was cut off through no fault of his own and inherited by my lady. He continued to devote his time and money to helping the less fortunate, but in this world it seems to me it’s words not deeds that count, or at any rate it’s words that keep you in the public eye. His relationship with Lady Astor was one of a young love which had matured over the years into a lasting deep affection. To those who didn’t know him there were no outward and visible signs of emotion. It wasn’t the fashion of the time to show them. I’ve asked Mr Lee if he saw any but as he said, ‘Good servants at the sight of any emotion turn away from it and make an opportunity to absent themselves.’

  Her ladyship’s attitude towards Lord Astor was one of easy acceptance; she took without question or appreciation all that he gave her. Of course, she loved him, if ever she’d thought about it, but she didn’t give herself time. She mimicked him as she did all of us, sometimes cruelly. She was impatient if ever he was ill. She would blame it on to his lack of faith. If she’d given to him a tenth of the time she gave to her religion, Christian Science, he would have been a much happier man. I remember when I was in hospital, and his lordship came to see me, I was trying to express my gratitude towards him and I said, ‘It’s at times like this that you need all the kindness and understanding that you can get.’

  ‘Understanding, did you say understanding, Rose?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Then he seemed to speak to himself. ‘Yes, I know just what you mean.’ And I think we both knew what he meant. Then the shutters came down.

  Once again it seems I’m criticizing her ladyship. I’m not, for while to some extent it was in her nature, there were also circumstances which kept her away from him. She had a busy political life which he could only share in the shadows. She had this passion for entertaining people which early in his own political life he must have encouraged, so when it became a near-fetish it was to some extent his fault. He could also have tempered it, but it seemed that everything that gave her ladyship enjoyment gave him happiness. Perhaps after the war, when her ladyship gave up her seat in Parliament, he hoped that they would settle more together, but it was too late. He by then was a sick man; sickness was something that Christian Scientists have to ignore and my lady was impatient with her new life. ‘What shall we do with her, Rose?’ his lordship would say to me, and we’d set forth on a succession of travels to try to soothe her itching spirit. In a way, my lady was like a man who has devoted his whole life to his work, has found no time to interest himself in anything outside, so when he retires he finds he is lost. When she left Parliament she found herself in a similar predicament. She still had people and friends to interest her, but it was a long time before she was able to come to terms with herself.

  His lordship had a hobby: racehorses. He was an owner-breeder. Now I don’t know anything about horses and I didn’t get the opportunity to find out much about them while I was at Cliveden, even though the stud farm was on our doorstep. When I saw them I thought they were very beautiful creatures, but while owning them may have been a profitable hobby for Lord Astor, backing them would never have been for me. I tried betting once when I first joined Miss Wissie. She said to me, ‘Daddy’s got a horse running today which I believe is going to win.’ She told me the name and when I went down to the servants’ hall I got one of the footmen to invest a shilling on it for me. It didn’t come up to Miss Wissie’s expectations and no more was said about it except under my breath.

  Some days later she said, ‘Daddy’s horse Penny Come Quick is expected to win today, Rose.’

  ‘I’ve learnt a lesson after your last try, Miss Wissie. It seems it’s Penny Go Quick with me.’

  This time of course she was right: it won. It didn’t make any difference to me though; I reckoned I was a bad chooser and so was never tempted again.

  Mind you, I don’t think that Lord Astor backed horses. He bred and ran them for the love of it. Mr Lee and Arthur Bushell, his one-time valets, had hoped that he would occasionally give them a winner, but he never did. He said to them, ‘I will never give a tip to anybody. If I think my horse is going to win, and say so, and it doesn’t, I feel I’ve done people a disservice.’

  Sometimes his lordship would take Mr Lee with him racing. He recalls one Derby: ‘Despite the fact that his lordship discouraged betting I couldn’t see the point of going racing without having a little flutter. He’d got a horse running called St Germain, and even if he was saying nothing, the stable seemed to think it had a good chance, so I had a nice each way bet on it. I was going back to the grandstand when I met Lord Derby’s valet. “What do you fancy, Astor?” he said to me. (We always called each other by our masters’ names.) I told him what I’d done.

  ‘“I’ve heard a bit different,” he said, “and that is that my lord’s Sansovino can’t be beat. Let’s go down again. I’ll cover myself with an each way bet on your lordship’s horse and you do the same with a win on mine.”

  ‘I did that, Miss Harrison, and he was right: Sansovino won and St Germain was second. It helped us to enjoy a very good day out.’

  To his disappointment Lord Astor never won a Derby, though he was second four times. One of my favourite pictures at Cliveden was one that Alfred Munnings did of him amongst his horses. There’s no doubt that they were a great relaxation for him. Racing people were continually on at Mr Lee for tips, but as he said, he couldn’t help them as his lordship never told him anything. This didn’t stop them though. When Mr Lee had given his usual reply to Sir Harold Werner, another owner, Sir Harold said, ‘Well, what are you backing yourself, Lee?’

  ‘Nothing, sir, I never bet off the course.’

  Sir Harold laughed and said, ‘You’re a damn sight different from my bloody butler, he’s never off the phone to his bookmaker.’

  According to Mr Lee some servants of racehorse owners gave tips for money, which again struck him as a betrayal of trust.

  His lordship also took a pride in the gardens and greenhouses, and was a great friend of Frank Copcutt’s. ‘The difference between him and her ladyship, Rose,’ Frank said, ‘was that if he wanted anything done in the gardens he asked if it was possible to do it, whereas her ladyship demanded that it be done.’

  According to Frank he was a generous employer, he paid ten shillings a week more than the going rate and provided cottages or accommodation as well. He started a social security service after the First World War with sickness benefit for the wives and children on the estate, and a pension scheme for the men. He was fond of sports of all kinds and engaged cricket and tennis coaches for his children in the holidays. George Fenner was the cricket coach. He was popular with the boys and the staff alike, particularly with Mr Lee, who was good at cricket and often played for the Cliveden side.

  Above all else Lord Astor’s interest was in his children, and from an early age. Mr Lee recalls the time when he was valet to his lordship. ‘He was an early riser; a call with coffee at 6.30, a bath, then I would shave him. It was always about this time that the children, knowing he was awake, would come rushing down, and he would have one on each knee while I tried to control the razor. I was scared that I would cut either him or the children, and times out of number I’ve had to restrain myself from putting the shaving brush in their mouths.’

  As I’ve said, when I arrived at Cliveden in 1928, Mr William was twenty-one and the youngest, Mr Jakie, was nine, so I saw nothing of any of their early lives or their relationships at that time with their parents. Mr Lee, Arthur Bushell, Gordon Grimmett and Frank Copcutt would often talk about them and their growing up. For them it seemed they were very much part of the vitality of the house; they made it more real, gay and happy, a place with a purpose. The children caught from their father the way to behave with servants and sometimes it seemed from what they said that they and the other servants got more enjoyment out of them than
their parents did.

  Cliveden was of course a wonderful place to be young in. It had everything. Theirs was a traditional upbringing: the nursery, governesses, preparatory and public schools and university. It was inevitable from the moment they were born. Let me begin with the nursery and Nanny Gibbons. She had joined the Astors when Mr William was born and she lived the rest of her life there. Now even nannies who are good with their children can be very unpopular with the rest of the staff. They are neither fish, flesh nor good red herring. By that I mean they are not servants, neither are they masters, they are in-betweens, in limbo as it were. In smaller households than ours they often dined with the master and mistress of the house and afterwards sat with them. They had the ear of their employers and could, and sometimes did, speak of things that went on below stairs. They could make demands, particularly of the kitchen staff for special food for their charges, at inconvenient times. They could also be toffee-nosed and hoity-toity. Therefore to servants they were suspect. Not Nanny Gibbons; she struck exactly the right balance. She had made her requirements plain from the moment she’d arrived, had seen that they suited and fitted in with everybody else’s and was always friendly though not familiar with the staff. Never, according to Mr Lee, had she made complaints about the servants to anyone but him and when she had they had always been justified, so the staff respected her. The children showed her great affection, and did till the end of her life. In that she was clever, too. Some nannies tried to get too much from the children they looked after. They attempted to become the mother-figure. This could cause great emotional problems with both children and parents. As it was, the Astors as children adored their mother, but I think looked on Nanny Gibbons as a warm and friendly grandmother.