Posts Tagged ‘wilson’

The Big House, the Murrays and Domestic Servants

1896

My father called ‘J.G.’ the ‘Governor.’

He’d been a solicitor practising in Newcastle when his father died and left him the business.

There was his Mrs Murray. Her name was Isabella and she was born in 1867; she came from Wylam and their daughter Miss Ethne. Miss Ethne had a birthday in May and was born in 1894, same age as my older brother Percy. There was a harness with everything in glass cases, saddles etc: Miss Effne had a little Shetland pony with a cream tub trap. She had an Italian Governess for a while, a Miss Rosina Frache, a spinster in her thirties. And later a German Governess who had things thrown at her when war broke out; she was interred. They were locking Germans up. The butcher changed his name and we let him get away with that; he made these excellent sausages. He took the name ‘Butcher,’ which everyone liked. After that we made up our own names for anyone that had a German sounding name. Shotley Bridge was made by a German family; it was a German who had set up the sword makers back in the 17th century.

The house had a butler, called Fry.

A housekeeper, called Mrs Kirkpatrick. A cook, called Mrs Woodburn who was replaced by Annie Ridley. A house maid, called Emma Housby, a laundry maid, Kathleen Robertson, a Waiting Maid, Jessie Brown and an 18 year old lass they called the ‘Dope’ as the Kitchen Maid – her name was Edith Walker. There was a gardener, called Booth, two gamekeepers, Jack Bell, and a Scotsman called Frank Carruthers. Jack lived at Elm Park and Frank was up at Allensford, Blanchland. Bell lived on the other side of the railway; he’d come over to cut the lawns on a Monday, if the weather was good. Bell pulled on a bit of cord and Booth pushed; it wasn’t motorised and you weren’t to use a horse or pony because that would spoil the lawn. They had these big rollers too; they kept it like they were going to play cricket. All you ever saw was a bit of croquet or lawn tennis.

Jack Bell paid the wages for everyone working at the Big House. He kept these single entry estate books up at the Royal Hotel.

We were living in the lodge

As a boy, I used to come up to the yard to fiddle on with the engines. I remember at one time there were these great crates of dinner sets to unpack for the cook.

The ‘Old Man’ and my mother’s side

1896

The Old man was the local vet in Wigton

He was never a qualified vet but he did the job all the same. He had all these beautiful instruments in a doctor’s bag; he looked the part and the people who came to him were grateful. I have those instruments somewhere. He had all sorts.

I remember going over there once and being taken up to Heather’s Gill where we did some shooting.

My mother’s side were farmers at Bell Gate House Farm, Dalston

Mother, whose name was Sarah, was the eldest of six girls.

My aunties were Margaret (b1874), Ellen (b1877) then Elizabeth (b1880), Ada (b1883) and Emma (b1886)

Mother, 24 at the time, went home to Granny Nixon to have me.

I was born on the farm on 20th August 1896 and christened in Dalston Church.

That’s what women did when they were expecting; they went home to have their baby and would be taken care of by their mothers.

The farm was a real mixture. It had an orchard and pigs. We rented it from the estate. There was a market garden in Carlisle. Granny Nixon used to take a pony and tub trap into town once a week to sell eggs and butter at a stall.

100_1509 tub trap inside trap

I’d go in on the occasions I was there and help out on the stall for a few coppers.