Passing of the Homes of England.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXX, Issue XIV, 4 April 1903, Page 972

Passing of the Homes of England.

The homes of England—the ancient, comfortable homes which were once the nation’s boast are passing away. The migration from the house, the Englishman’s castle, to the flat, his temporary zareba, has continued for some years. Now huge caravanserais are springing up in all directions. From the flat to the h< tel is an easy stage, and in the next few' years thousands will he dwelling in residential hotels where scores reside to-day. At the root of the whole matter is the domestic servant problem, in the opinion or a writer in the “Daily Express.” Why are servants so scarce? A dozen reasons will be given. But the one true cause lies in the fact that the last vestiges of feudalism are disappear ing in these islands. Domestic service was an integral part of the feudal system. It carried with it a dignity out of all proportion to the pay. In proof thereof, look at the Court appointments. Mistress of the robes, bedchamber women, maids of honour, lords-in-waiting, grooms of the great chamber, pages of the presenci 1 and pages of the back stairs—these ofli ces exist, and are held in high esteem, even in this year of grace. Yet the Royal household at the first was only appointed in accordance with the common custom of the country, li has come to this—that wdiile a groom in-waiting to Edward VII. occupies an honourable post of small emoluments, a groom-in-waiting to Squire Bareacres, of the present reign, has little honour and small pay. In fact, the squire’s groom, being an independent individual with a fair education, will be hanged if he will remain “in waiting” He would sooner

drive a ha’penny ’bus so long as he was his own master. It is the same with all classes of servants. And so Mother England has to change her domestic habits. This change has not been undertaken in haste. The worse discomforts caused by it have arisen from the bull-dog pertinacity with which we hxve clung to our old homes. It is almost pathetic to watch in the older suburbs, where building operations still continue, how every year the state y "‘residential mansions’ of forty years ago are more and more deserted in favour of newer houses, for the sole reason that it is possible to manage with fewer servants. “Villa residences” of ten years ago are even now deemed out of date by some people if there is not a buttery hatch between diningroom and kitchen enabling the mistress to do without a parlourmaid. The lack of servants presses almost equally heavily on all classes. The rich betake themselves to luxurious hotels, which have promptly responded to the change. The hotel is no longer a mere house of call, a place where people stay for a night or two who have not friends in town, or whose friends’ houses happen to be full. The smart hotel to-day is the only town residence of many an aristocrat and plutocrat. They have no bother about servants. They entertain their friends in their private rooms and their acquaintances in the restaurant. If a bore calls whom duty compels them to see they meet him in the palm court, where a thousand opportunities of escape occur impossible in the drawingroom of a private house Should they wish to give a big dinner, followed by a dance, there are suitable rooms at their disposal. Once renounce the fetish of the Englishman’s castle, and the smart hotel suite wins in a canter in so far as gener-l al convenience and luxury are concern-1 ed.

If you have read Kipling’s “Just-So Stories” you will remember how “Dingo, yellow dog Dingo, hungrier and hungrier, grinning like a coal-scuttle,” chased Old Man Kangaroo “out of the homes of his childhood, out of his regular meal times.” Just so the British servanl chevies the British householder. The flat has been no sure abiding place, for the servant objects to an outlook from her kitchen window on a bare, bleak, blank wall, five yards away. She grows “hungrier and hungrier” in the matter of wages; she “grins like a coal scuttle” if madame raises any objection to her goings on or her goings out. The householder tries to do with as little of her as he can. Then he hops into a ho t'vl, all that is left of the servant having played Old Scratch with his tern per. He has to. So a new development is taking plae?. The hotels of the future are to be Amalgamated Homes of England. (treat Combines of Domestic Bliss and Contentment. The Savoy—the pioneer of the big, smart hotel in London—is now constructing on the site of the old Worcester House a number of chambers, to be attached to the hotel. This is part of a general scheme of enlargement, which includes, among other things, a new cafe, a glass courtyard, with a broad, high, level entrance from the Strand—here to be widened—and a spacious palm court. This passing away of England’s old homes may be regretted; undoubtedly it takes away with it much of the old-iash-ioned sentiment of hospitality. But it is the price we pay for general prosperity. There is so much money to be made in these days that the poor man cannot afford to be bothered with domestic cares, and the rich man will not. So we pay gladly a reasonable sum to 3' anyone who will relieve us of these troubles and guarantee to make us comfortable.