Perhaps I shouldn't have called this little series 'Upstairs Downstairs' as it's more a case of 'Front Stairs Back Stairs'.
You've seen the state of the servants' quarters in the back attic …
Now pull on your clothes, make yourself presentable and tip-toe quiet as a mouse down the back stairs with me as we get the day ready for the silk merchant's family.
One of the first jobs will be to wake up the fires we banked only a few short hours before, and not just in the main rooms … most importantly the master likes his morning poo to be made more pleasant by the warmth from this cute little fireplace with its lovely Delft tiles.
The chamberpot from under his commode will be emptied into the pit in the rear yard later, awaiting pick-up by the honey cart tonight. Downstairs, Mrs. Bridges has the scullery maid boiling water fit to burst as breakfast is prepared.
Dust the steps and polish the handrail and balusters on the main stair. You'll be seeing more of this one on Sunday Stair posts.
And now here comes the master out of his bedroom, expecting his breakfast to be on the table by the time he and the family convene in the breakfast room.
Yes, I know the Bridget Riley on the wall is not contemporary with the Huguenots but this is someone's house, not a museum.
The family rooms are somewhat better appointed than the servants' quarters. That's because servants are there to serve! To skivvy and sweat and slave and stay out of sight and mind … unless of course it's the mind of the master of the house dwelling on the body of the new maid.
The family spends most of their time in quietly elegant and understated rooms on the first and second floors (that's second and third to the Colonials) while their weavers' looms clack overhead.
There is a small and somewhat pious library for the childrens' tutors and a harpsichord for the more frivolous evenings, though never on a Sunday.
The ground floor is grandest of all and is reserved for the silk merchant and his customers. The servants must wear livery when in attendance.
As with the windows on Gilbert and George's house, buildings continually evolve with changing fashions. A glance up at the arch cut into the cornice tells us that the original Huguenot front door was full height and arched, opening into the specially cut recess.
Later Georgian residents inserted a glazed fanlight and a shorter, square-headed door. MUCH later, the current incumbent was gifted some numerals one Christmas and - so as not to damage the Georgian glass - held them in place with Blu-Tack, of which I approve.
Customers would be welcomed into this small but exquisitely proportioned front room on the ground floor, containing a table laden with bolts of the most fabulous silks, also visible from the street to entice any potential buyers who would cruise Spitalfields browsing for silks through the merchants' front windows.
Should the customer be a regular or look promising, the rear wall of the little front room would be opened up (this is the other side of it; note the hinges) to reveal the full stock of silks in a much larger stock room beyond.
Silk weaving - as with Worsted making in Norfolk - was highly skilled and protected from foreign competition. We've already dealt with the Calico Riots earlier.
Eventually, however, the East India Company went too far and after the Indian Mutiny the British Government took over the China and India trade. The vast profits were now coming into their own coffers so the trade tariffs were removed and the Spitalfields silk trade ruined along with Norfolk Worsteds.
It'll be a while before that disaster, however, so we'll just pop downstairs to share a cup of tea with Mrs. Bridges in the final post.
