The Sycophant

Andrew Robertson

“Shipwash!! Answer the bloomin door. Where for heaven’s sake are you boy?”

Head butler Saunterton had no patience for the incompetent Shipwash, who was never around when needed most. “Shipwash!!”

Shipwash heard the second call and rolled off the upstairs daybed. He had planned to polish silver all morning but became weary after sweeping, dusting, and discretely chatting with the chambermaid. He straightened his coat and breeches, pulled up his stockings, and dashed down the back stairs. Striding through the servants hall, Shipwash glanced quickly out the window and noticed a carriage and horses. Lady Fountain had arrived ahead of time. Shipwash ruffled his powdered hair, took a deep breath, and dashed through the scullery toward the lobby.

“Shipwash, Saunterton is calling you,” a laundry maid heckled without turning away from a wash tub full of hot water.

“Like I don’t know already,” Shipwash replied. “That old buzzard Saunterton has a voice that could wake the dead.”

The door leading to the lobby opened before Shipwash reached the handle. It was Saunterton, glowering and flustered.

“Ahh, Mister Saunterton, I’ve been polishing silver . . .”

“Shipwash, you lazy rapscallion! I’ve been calling you.” Saunterton grabbed Shipwash by the coat sleeve, leading him toward the formal entrance of the house. “Lady Fountain has been waiting for thirty seconds and I can’t be expected to open doors as well as prepare the dining hall.”

Shipwash bounded across the pebble driveway, long legs propelling his lithe frame toward the carriage. “Welcome to Codfish Manor, Lady Fountain,” Shipwash said, as the Lady appraised him. He leaned in close to the window as she spoke discretely.

“Your breeches are unbuckled young man,” she said.

Shipwash hurriedly fastened his loose stocking before assisting the Lady to disembark from the carriage. Her disinterested demeanor hinted at high parentage and a residence superior to Codfish Manor. Shipwash walked ahead to open the main door of the manor.

“Your calves are rather slender for a footman. Does Lord Longbottom not feed you enough?” Lady Fountain asked.

Shipwash didn’t like to have his every move, gesture and physical attribute scrutinised by the upper class, but he tolerated it. He had plans to usurp the position of head butler from Saunterton. He also didn’t like Lord Longbottom one bit, and thought of him as an overstuffed hog. However, for the sake of Codfish Manor etiquette, Shipwash kept a tight rein on his emotions.

“Lord Longbottom is a fine master, my Lady,” he said. “In fact I remain slender due to the pleasure derived from endless duties performed for the satisfaction of the Lord and his guests. I’m actually feeling more robust every day and believe I will grow into a well-formed footman.”

Shipwash led Lady Fountain to the parlor in readiness for lunch with Lord Longbottom. He then quickly excused himself before rushing off to polish the silver he had earlier neglected. Saunterton followed closely behind, closing the door quietly.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Saunterton hissed.

“It’s almost noon Mister Saunterton,” replied Shipwash.

“Then why are you still wearing your morning livery? Do you think Lady Fountain didn’t note your plain black waistcoat. We at Codfish Manor welcome distinguished guests wearing our best striped vest for a luncheon appointment. Go and get changed immediately before you bring shame on all of us.”

“I beg your pardon Mister Saunterton,” Shipwash replied. “I will see to it that the laundry maid is reprimanded for her tardiness in returning my livery to me.”

Saunterton remained unmoved by the excuse. He had trained generations of footmen during his tenure at Codfish Manor and had become a trusted confidant of Lord Longbottom.

“Your waistcoat is hanging as always in your cupboard, Shipwash,” Saunterton said. “And the laundry staff are not for you to supervise. You already seem to spend an inordinate amount of time supervising the chambermaid.”

Shipwash retained his composure, although feeling slighted at being caught out, and suffocated by constant observation of his every move around Codfish Manor.

“Of course . . . you are right Mister Saunterton. How absent minded of me. My waistcoat is indeed hanging in the cupboard. Your perceptiveness is why you are head butler and I remain your humble servant.”

“And that’s the way it shall stay Shipwash. Run along and ready yourself for serving lunch. Lord Longbottom will be down in fifteen minutes. I must go entertain Lady Fountain,” Saunterton said.

Shipwash scurried around the pantry, cleaning silver, readying plates and glasses and making sure the head cook was on time with the meal. He peered into a large pot on the stove.

“Keep your nose out of that,” called the cook, while returning from the storeroom. “You will get fed when Lord Longbottom has well and truly completed his meal and all the cleaning is done.”

Shipwash felt repulsed by the enormity of the feast. “Well, it’s a sure thing I won’t get to eat this fine food,” Shipwash said. “It will be scraps for me, like a hungry hound that does all the work only to see the owner enjoy the spoils. There’s enough here to feed the King’s army, and it’s not like Lord Longbottom is getting any thinner. He would burst asunder if pricked with a knitting needle.”

The head cook wiped sweat from his forehead with a cloth, focusing on Shipwash through a haze of kitchen steam.

“It will serve you well, Shipwash, to not talk in such tones around Codfish Manor,” the cook said. “The walls have ears and we are under constant scrutiny. You need to know your place and accept it as your lot in life.”

Shipwash had accepted the position of footman to escape a life of drudgery. However, he had greater ambition and would do all he could to ingratiate himself to Lord Longbottom and become part of the inner circle of high class society. The cook didn’t seem to be an ally he could rely on as part of his plan.

“Of course you make perfect sense,” Shipwash said to the cook. “I have been ever so tired with my duties at Codfish Manor that I sometimes forget the great fortune Lord Longbottom, Mister Saunterton and expert cooks like yourself bestow upon me. If I had half your devotion I would be a most capable asset to the household.”

Lord Longbottom and Lady Fountain enjoyed the meal while being waited upon by Saunterton and Shipwash, who had exactingly set the table according to refined standards. Saunterton hovered close to the diners while Shipwash kept a respectful distance, ever ready to respond to any request. He stood tall and poised in a picture of obedient servitude—a stark contrast to his real desire of being the one served.

Shipwash refilled Lord Longbottom’s goblet for the third time before the Lord addressed him.

“What is your opinion of the potato, Shipwash?”

Shipwash had no idea how to answer such a question, nor did potatoes generally interest him. However, he was expert in tailoring his opinions to concur with Lord Longbottom and promote his own worthiness as a future head butler. He seized on the opportunity to ingratiate himself. He bowed slightly and spread his arms imploringly, choosing his words for maximum benefit.

“Well my Lord, my knowledge of the culinary art pales into insignificance compared to your refined gastronomic sensibility. I would prefer you illuminate me with an educated appraisal of the potato.”

Lord Longbottom sipped his drink and peered at Shipwash through the rim of the goblet. He placed the goblet respectfully down, prodded a crusty baked potato with shiny fork, and held it up to the light, before replying.

“The potato is the most delicious of all vegetables . . .”

Before Lord Longbottom could finish the sentence Shipwash butted in, “Indeed my Lord, the potato is delightfully delicious, tasty and very pleasant to the palette. Whether it is boiled, fried, mixed with other vegetables or as an ingredient in soup, the potato is incomparable. It is second to none – simply unparalleled.” Shipwash ended his expert summation of the potato, satisfied his knowledge had endeared him to Lord Longbottom. Saunterton scowled while Lady Fountain smiled amusedly, playing with the peas on her plate.

Lord Longbottom rejoindered, “Regardless of your opinion Shipwash, the potato is actually quite bland and tasteless of its own accord. It has little nutritional value and can be bad for some people, even leading to obesity and disease.” Lord Longbottom patted his rotund stomach for emphasis.

Shipwash mentally backpedaled before blurting out a confidant reply. “Once again you are absolutely right my Lord. The potato is an extremely agitating vegetable. Once hot, a potato is very slow to cool down, and I personally believe it is the catalyst for many new diseases. This innocuous round potato is the cause of diarrhea, diabetes, and uncontrolled flatulence. Potato is definitely the perpetrator of many troubles. I fully agree with you Lord Longbottom.”

Saunterton edged closer to Shipwash and nudged him toward the door. “Excuse us, my Lord, while we bring dessert,” he said.

Shipwash happily followed Saunterton to the galley, impressed at his own ability to flatter Lord Longbottom. Saunterton turned suddenly.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing Shipwash?”

“Doing my duty, Mr. Saunterton,” Shipwash said.

“Your duty doesn’t include being a fawning flatterer,” Saunterton replied.

Shipwash grinned, “You sound jealous Mr. Saunterton. It seems Lord Longbottom and Lady Fountain are quite interested in my opinion.”

“You don’t even have an opinion, Shipwash,” Saunterton said. “You are mindlessly agreeing with everything just to ingratiate yourself.”

Shipwash’s face hardened and fists clenched. He stiffened but retained enough composure to reply with a barely noticeable waver in his voice. “I intimidate you, do I not, Mr. Saunterton?” Shipwash said. “You’re fearful of losing your post as head butler to a younger man. I understand your concern. You should have heard Lady Fountain complimenting me regarding my stout calves earlier.”

Saunterton laughed heartily. “Silly boy,” he said. “I’m the most trusted servant at Codfish Manor, and there is a reason for that. I’m here to serve Lord Longbottom and his guests to the best of my ability. Why are you here, Shipwash?”

“Because I belong here!” Shipwash commanded, arrogant pride overcoming his placid facade. “I’m the son of a washerman who struggled to feed his family. I taught myself to read and write in order to move up in the world. I also have shrewdness and the ability to pounce on an opportunity. When the last footman was hospitalised with poisoning I was ready to step in and take his place.”

Saunterton’s face hardened as he looked searchingly at Shipwash, who quickly diverted his attention toward the kitchen. “We really should get back to the dining hall,” Shipwash said. “Mustn’t keep Lady Fountain waiting.”

“At last you are showing some initiative, Shipwash,” Saunterton said coldly.

Shipwash and Saunterton efficiently arranged cake, peaches and cream on silver plates. Shipwash contemplated his tenure at Codfish Manor. “Excuse my speaking too harshly, Mr. Saunterton,” he said. “The quality of my service here at Codfish Manor has been greatly enhanced by your expert guidance, and I am indebted to you for taking me under your wing. I have much to learn as your humble assistant, and have high hopes that I may serve you for many more years. My earlier outburst was of course not due to you, Mr. Saunterton, but because of having to deal with the incompetent chambermaid.”

No sooner had Shipwash re-entered the dining hall when Lady Fountain addressed him. “Your knowledge of the potato is quite vast young man. I would also like to hear your opinion of eggplant,” she said.

A faint smile crossed Shipwash’s face. He glanced momentarily at Saunterton before replying,

“It would not be fitting that my limited knowledge precedes your wisdom Lady Fountain. You are obviously well-travelled and proficient in all manner of culinary expertise. I would much prefer to hear your opinion of the eggplant.”

Lady Fountain dabbed cream off her lips and said, “As far as I know the eggplant is a very nice vegetable . . .”

Without hesitation, Shipwash again butted in, “Yes, that’s so true. There is hardly another vegetable that compares to eggplant. It can be roasted, fried, prepared as a relish and so much more. A house with eggplant in the pantry is a place worth residing. There are actually many varieties of eggplant and all of them are delicious.”

“Unfortunately, there is no nutritional value in eggplant,” Lady Fountain said firmly.

Shipwash shifted uncomfortably but quickly replied, “Again you are absolutely correct, Lady Fountain. Is there nothing you and Lord Longbottom don’t know? By itself, an eggplant is inedible and requires extreme measures to make it palatable. It causes ulcers and itching in the mouth. Eggplant is avoided by many intelligent people and is known to cause bad luck, therefore it is often roasted before serving if it is served at all.”

Lord Longbottom swallowed the last of his cake, pushed the plate away, and leaned back in his chair.

“You are a very strange fellow, Shipwash,” Lord Longbottom said. “When I say potato is good, you reply yes it is good. When I say it is bad you agree it is very bad. When Lady Fountain said eggplant is good your appreciation knew no bounds but when she stated the opposite you denigrated eggplant as an abominable and wicked vegetable. Do you have any personal integrity, Shipwash?”

“I’m your humble servant,” Shipwash replied. “Your opinion is my opinion. I have no desire other than to support whatever you do or say Lord Longbottom. Codfish Manor is my refuge and you are the master who has kindly and expertly provided an opportunity for my humble self to flourish as an insignificant member of your worthy household.”

Shipwash had much more to say but noticed Lord Longbottom’s attention had wavered. The Lord and Lady Fountain chuckled, much to Shipwash’s dismay. He hated them both but tried not to show it. Lord Longbottom turned his attention to Saunterton.

“What is your opinion Saunterton?” Lord Longbottom asked.

“Well sir, to be honest, in my opinion too much praise is the sign of a grovelling sycophant.”

Lord Longbottom clapped his hands together gleefully. “At last, an honest answer,” he said. “This is the reason I trust you Saunterton. You are not afraid to speak the truth even when it may sound unpalatable. Unlike sycophant Shipwash here, who thinks I need to be coddled and propped up with praise. You are a man of integrity, Saunterton, and I thank you for your ongoing service. As for you Shipwash, you snivelling wimp, you are dismissed from Codfish Manor. There is no place for deception here.”

“But you need me!” Shipwash demanded. “The previous footman was incompetent even before he got lead poisoning!”

Lord Longbottom looked at Saunterton, before turning back to face Shipwash. “Only Saunterton and I knew it was lead poisoning,” Lord Longbottom growled. “You are nothing but a devious rascal, Shipwash.”

“I heard whispers,” Shipwash pleaded. “The cook even told me the walls have ears.”

“If potatoes have eyes I don’t see why walls can’t have ears,” Lady Fountain laughed.

“And Codfish Manor has a door, Shipwash!,” Lord Longbottom yelled. “Make sure you close it on the way out. You have two minutes before I release the hounds.”

Image: unknown artist (2023), Wikimedia Commons