Story: Maid Jenny and Her Mistress. Chapter 8 and Epilogue.

by Jackie J

Marianne had been quite uncomfortable with Jenny’s cavalier attitude to Sister Agnes taking Lucy from Long Lawns to her convent. She should have also taken note of the warning bells rung loud and clear by her pupil. Jenny had been quite assertive. In fact, very assertive in dismissing Marianne’s concerns and reservations, preaching back to Marianne the implicit demarcation protocol regarding Lucinda Lancaster that Marianne herself had reminded Jenny of many times. Lucinda Lancaster, the Mistress of Long Lawns, was away, travelling overseas; it was her maid Lucy who had been taken to St. Catherine’s convent by Sister Agnes. Warning bells yes, not necessarily from what was said but how it was said. Marianne had become passive and lost control of the matter, allowing Jenny to adopt such a dominant role. How could Marianne had missed this subtle yet telling dynamic in Jenny?

Having articulately and assertively quashed and silenced Marianne’s reservations of being protective of her friend, Jenny had been the one who closed the conversation. She continued to take the lead by opening the parlour door suggesting that they should work with the flowers study. Following Marianne towards the library, Jenny smirked at her first manipulation of her tutor. It felt good, empowering. Jenny’s scheming to retain her privileges at Long Lawns well advanced in its gestation.

Marianne was impressed by Jenny’s sketches and how quickly she became familiar with the common native species of plants and shrubs. Jenny had even delved into plants familiar in areas of Africa! 

It has been four days since the Long Lawns maid had left with Sister Agnes for St. Catherine’s convent. Marianne made some sandwiches at the request of Jenny and sat on the veranda. Jenny smiled then laughed.

Downton Abbey Ladies Switch With Maids

Harper's Bazaar strikes with a lady-to-maid photo shoot with Downton Abbey cast.  The show itself did play a little bit with the lady disguised as a maid trope so no wonder. 

At a stuccoed country house location in the middle of West London, the world of Downton Abbey is being turned upside down. “Oh, I could get used to this,” says Sophie McShera, a.k.a. kitchen maid turned cook Daisy Mason, as she lounges on a velvet sofa in pink organza Dolce & Gabbana, while a toned-down Elizabeth McGovern, a.k.a. Cora Crawley, Countess of Grantham, serves tea. “I’m usually carrying trays and wearing a gray sack!”

Next door, in another ornately appointed room, Michelle Dockery, a.k.a. Lady Mary Crawley, has stepped into the shoes of her trusted lady’s maid, Anna Bates, while Joanne Froggatt, the actress who plays her, ponders which designer shoes to wear. “After so many years of playing Lady Mary, it was fun to switch roles and play a maid for Bazaar,” says Dockery. “Anna waited on Lady Mary so faithfully over the years—dressing her, mending her clothes, and brushing her hair. It was nice to be able to wait on Jo for a change.”

Sadly it's a bit bland and the maids are dressed in designer dresses and there is little of it. Could have been a lot more fun if they went further with the idea - there are so many options! I know I would have had a blast if it was me doing the photoshoot. Still worth a look, our imagination will do the rest.

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Royal Maid Game or Life Imitates Art Again

The Daily Mail, admittedly an unlikely source of lady-to-maid material, published excerpts from what it described as "aristocratic memoir", an upcoming book by Lady Anne Glenconner titled Lady in Waiting. As a prominent member of British aristocracy (her father was Earl of Leister and her mother was the daughter of Earl of Hardwicke), she was one of Queen Elizabeth's maids of honour at the 1953 coronation.

Needless to say a short chapter titled "The day Prince Philip asked me to dress as a maid!", accompanied by a 1949 photo, immediately caught my attention:


In 1949 my grandfather died, which meant that my father succeeded to his title, becoming the 5th Earl of Leicester.

I was 17 and Carey was 15, and we spent that summer cycling to the cinema in Wells-next-the-Sea twice a week with our mother. In the evenings Carey and I would go off to the local American aerodromes where the big bands would perform.

That same summer, the Duke of Edinburgh, who had married Princess Elizabeth in 1947 and often came to Holkham to shoot with my father, rang up my mother one day with an unusual request.