This clearly does something. A mixer of some kind? |
In the books by James Herriot (the pseudonym Alf Wight used,
as veterinarians at that time were not allowed to advertise their work in any
way), as well as in the TV show “All Creatures Great and Small, Mrs. Hall runs
Skeldale House and cares for Sigfried, James, and Tristan without assistance. When James got married, Helen was able to help
her out. For a time, the couple had
their own apartment on an upper floor, and Helen prepared their meals in her
smaller kitchen.
We don’t get a chance to see that smaller kitchen in The World of James Herriot. The museum has reorganized and modernized the
building. There’s an area showing a film
on Alf Wight hosted by Christopher Timothy, who played James Herriot in the TV
series, an elevator for the handicapped, and an upper floor split between a
children’s educational area and a museum space displaying numerous tools the
veterinarians would have used. There’s
even a reproduction of the studio sets that gives you an idea of the spaces the
actors would have moved around in when the production crew filmed the interior
scenes. Still, there’s much to see in
the kitchen, including an array of foods and household products that derive
from an earlier era.
Doing laundry the hard way. |
Mrs. Hall was responsible for not only feeding the men, but also
for cleaning the house and doing their laundry.
As my wife and I studied the kitchen, a spritely older lady and her
grandson entered, and we listened as she reminisced about how her family had done this
or that in their own kitchen before World War Two.
I asked her the purpose of one particular item, and she gave me insight on
that object, as well as on a host of others.
For example, in addition to feeding the cream-colored stove, the wood
Tristan chopped would have gone into the bottom of this brick-lined
heater. Water would have been poured
into it. Once the water reached the
appropriate temperature, it would be poured, via buckets, into the device
below.
Your 1930s washing machine. |
While you would have scrubbed out hard-to-remove stains
using the board set above the brick-lined warmer, you could have removed
less-resistant stains with this washing machine. The only problem: it didn’t agitate your load
of clothes automatically. So you poured
in the hot water, and dumped in your clothes and the detergent. Then you grasped the handles and moved them
back and forth (and back and forth, and back and forth) for ten minutes, or
fifteen minutes, or until they were clean.
Then you wrung the excess soap and water out of each item with the
rollers. After that, you took them over
to the kitchen sink, where you rinsed each article of clothing in cold water
(unless you wanted to heat up more water) to remove any remaining soap. Then, it’s back to the rollers to remove as
much water as possible. When all that
was done, you hung them up to dry: outside if the weather was nice, inside if
it wasn’t.
No wonder Roy Clarke, like James Herriot (or, if you prefer,
Alf Wight), was in awe of these tough Yorkshire women. Running a kitchen in the 1930s would have
required strength and endurance.
Sigfried, James, and Tristan might have had to rush off at a moment’s
notice to attend animals. The men worked
long, hard hours. They endured freezing
temperatures, howling winds, driving rain and snow. They risked constant injury from working with
such large and powerful animals. Mrs.
Hall’s tasks took her to the shops in Darrowby (or, if you prefer, real-life
Thirsk). Her duties kept her busy inside
Skeldale House. Her job offered less
chance of injury, or contracting a life-threatening illness from exposure to the elements. Yet, from touring her kitchen, I’ve gained
new respect for the real woman who so devotedly cared for her three
veterinarians.
And I’ve gained new appreciation for my fridge, microwave,
washer, dryer, and yes, even frozen dinners.
Thanks for following my historical musings,
Dragon Dave
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