1.5: Authority: a staff with uncertain loyalty

Now that I had my own apartments at Longleat, I had a sense of detachment from all that went on at Job’s Mill. But the domestic staff who had been at Sturford Mead, now found themselves readjusting in the development of loyalties towards Virginia instead of Daphne.

Nanny would have been horrified to suppose that anyone might consider her under the heading of domestic staff, but I find it convenient to do so within this context. And the divorce had indeed smitten her badly. Ever since she had gone into retirement, her life had become focused upon the semi-detached house which she shared with Donald and his wife - within her personal wing of it I mean to say. With Henry switching residence from Sturford Mead to Job’s Mill however, Donald and his family had transferred to the service cottage at the latter address, and the house across the road from Sturford was considered to be too large for the use of one elderly spinster on her own. So it had been put up for sale, with the plan that she should move to a smaller cottage about half a mile up the road from the old one.

Nanny was always alarmed by the prospect of change, and was full of lamentation when assessing the relative points of value for the two residences. But from an observer’s point of view, she was going to be no worse off. Her complaints were largely concerned with the personal aspects of what she would be leaving behind - like the apple tree she had planted, or the wallpaper that she would be leaving behind. And despite all these regrets, there was never a single word of criticism for either of my parents for the decisions in life which they had reached. And we all knew how she would soon find her own way to appreciate Virginia, however different a person she might turn out to be from her predecessor.

With regard to the other members of our domestic staff at Sturford, the transition involved a greater need for direct relationship perhaps. And it may have been difficult for them in that they had always held my mother in very high esteem. They even felt sentimentally towards her. On the occasion when I had to pick up the train at Westbury, to join Daphne who was already travelling down to Cornwall on it, Harold Mather most untypically insisted on carrying my suitcase up to the platform so that he would obtain the chance of exchanging a few words with her. There had been this heartfelt warmth between Daphne and all her staff, so that they genuinely grieved her departure from their scene. For the most part they did their best not to make Virginia feel unwelcome. Donald always managed the right degree of deferential demeanour to make it appear that he was happy within the new situation. But I think that Virginia harboured doubts whether he really felt as warmly towards herself, as he had done towards her predecessor. When it came to Mrs Sims however, the pretence at times was transparent. At the best of times the cook was notorious for her duplicity, and I received a good insight into this, about which I write in my journal entry for the 5th January 1954.

I am beginning to feel that it would perhaps be better if Mrs Sims were persuaded to retire. Several months ago I argued with Dad against this point. I said that she should at least be given a six months’ trial before making any such decision, but I’m now inclined to think that she’ll never make good. Her general attitude is to give the appearance of accepting the changes, whenever Dad or Virginia are around, but whenever she’s in other company, she tries to paint a picture of a family crushed by the domination of a cruel stepmother.

The incident on this occasion was as follows. Dad had asked Virginia to arrange that the servants should have a completely free day on Friday, and this would entail that I should have a sandwich lunch at Longleat. However, I was to be allowed my normal hot meal at Job’s Mill for New Year’s dinner. But after all the others had left for London, Mrs Sims decided (understandably) that she wished to celebrate New Year’s eve at some party or other, and she went out.

At dinner-time Donald drove over to say that she had gone out, so that I would have to be content with a sandwich dinner. But to make up for it, he suggested that I should come in on Friday for a hot luncheon. And on arriving, I found Mrs Sims in conversation with the baker. She was trying to put on a shared martyrdom act - overwhelming me with affection, and telling the baker how my stepmother had ordered her to give me a cold lunch.

I ruined her act with the coldness of my reply - which surprised the baker no doubt. Then after he had gone, she tried to atone by becoming more natural. But there’s something devious in her attitude which makes me shudder. I suppose that I too am to blame by keeping up a continual pretence of affection for her which I do not really feel. So this may encourage her in such behaviour. On the other hand it may be best that I should continue to do so, for it enables me to have an insight into the kind of stories that she’s telling at the pubs, and other places of local gossip.

With my leg in plaster, I found myself more dependent than I liked upon the transport that Henry might supply for me, which meant that someone had to act as my chauffeur of course. And when he and Virginia went up to London, they were apt to proclaim that the staff were now on holiday - which could make things difficult for myself, under the present circumstances. Indeed the problem in removing my trousers when I retired to bed, could only be achieved with someone’s assistance - after a heel had been added to my plaster cast. Mather was the one who usually obliged, when dropping me back at Longleat after a dinner at Job’s Mill. Or when I was left to my own resources at Longleat, it was Chapman, the retired policeman who dwelt downstairs in the caretaker’s flat with his wife and son, to whom my request for assistance had to be made. There was certainly some inconvenience in not having my own staff at Longleat.

But when it came to the time when I should return to Oxford for the Hilary term, Henry did permit that I should have the services of Mather to drive me there - which was convenient in that it would have been difficult to travel by train with such equipment as my radiogram. I would be sitting for my preliminary exams at the end of this term, and I was by no means confident that I’d pass them. The task of finding a correct balance between work and play was delicate, and I was fearful of disgracing myself.