Viv Wilson | 30th September 1990 | Early Days

GARDENERS’  WORLD AT  HOAR CROSS:         In it’s heyday Hoar Cross Hall had around 28 people employed to keep the 20 acres of grounds tidy and weed free.  In Victorian England the most common of all male servants was the gardener.   At Hoar Cross the head gardener had numerous under-gardeners known affectionately as ‘digging slaves’!  They were responsible for producing fruit, vegetables and growing luxury items in and out of season, much of it under glass.  Adjacent to the house was the carp pool and greenhouse area along with a palm house; next to these was a walled kitchen garden.  This supplied the house with all its fruit, vegetables and herbs.  The palm house produced palms and pot plants along with flowers for the house; these would be brought across to decorate the main rooms when an important function was on. The ‘bothy’ house was in one corner of the kitchen garden.  (A bothy is a simple dwelling on an estate, usually used for gardeners and other workmen).  Here lived the ‘bothy boys’ who were young under-gardeners.  Their job was simply to sweep the pathways all day and keep the leaves at bay! There were two elderly chaps, Mr Knight and Mr Dukes, who were solely responsible for the south garden – however, their task was complicated by the fact that they couldn’t get on with one another!  Grass was cut by a horse drawn mower, a task carried out by the chauffeur of all people!    We heard that back in the early days the head gardener was pushed around in a wheelchair when he was older inspecting the lawns – apparently if he saw a weed amongst the grass blades he would tell one of the gardeners to pluck it out straightaway! Emily Meynell Ingram employed a Mr Rowley especially to carry out her plans of planting the yew hedges, of which there were many.  At each side of the garden was a yew tree walk which ran down to the ha-ha wall at the bottom.  Across the bottom of the gardens were smaller square gardens (including the stepping stone pond) all bordered by yew hedges.  These hedges were all trimmed into spectacular shapes and must have been a full time job for Mr Rowley! (See header picture of Mr Rowley with Frederick Meynell in the kitchen garden).    The estate also had its own farm called Home Farm.  This supplied the house and staff with all the produce that they needed.  The carp pool provided fish and the regular pheasant shoots provided game for the table.  All very self sufficient!  In addition to the farm workers and gardeners were all sorts of other workers on the estate: a stone mason, brick makers, foresters and thatchers, carpenters, a joiner, plumber and an electrician.  They looked after the maintenance of the house and workers’ cottages, and the tenanted properties. If the butler was an important figure inside the house, the head gardener had much authority outside.  Even the mistress from the house was unable to enter the nursery garden without his permission, and to help herself to his produce would have been unthinkable.  Only the head gardener had the key and the door was always kept locked outside working hours! Around Christmas time, all the local trades’ people who supplied the house, were invited to a party held for them in the Long Gallery.  They were restricted to this area only whenever there was a party or Servants Ball – couldn’t have the servants peeking into the family’s private rooms, even though they must have been curious to see them! Other outdoor staff included the chauffeur who had been employed for many years by the Meynell family.  They had owned a motor car since the very early years of the century and many more cars were owned subsequently.  Mrs Ellen Fisher, widow of the then chauffeur, Albert, recalled how a Maudsley was delivered just after the First World War.  This would have cost around £200, nearly four times the annual wage of the housekeeper and 20 times the annual wage of the housemaid!  D...

Viv Wilson | 07th October 1988 | early days

THE WAR YEARS AND BEYOND:           During the Second World War, life in country houses changed dramatically.  It was no different at Hoar Cross.  The borders on the main lawns were turfed over to reduce maintenance and vegetables were grown in areas formerly restricted to flowers.  Evacuees from Birmingham came to stay for the duration of the war and they lived in the basement, as it was considered to be the safest place.  I imagine that they must have been in the care of the servants as they were living amongst them but it must also have been quite exciting for them to move from a bombed out city to the relative safety of the countryside, although they must have missed their parents of course.  Many children in those days never left the cities and towns where they lived and often didn’t know what a cow looked like in real life!  To see all the lawns and woods at the Hall must have been incredible for them although I’m not sure if they were allowed to wander around the grounds. Two of these youngsters returned to the Hall in the mid-1980s and spoke to my mum about the kindness they received from the family.  They also told her about the ‘secret airfield’ hidden away in a copse behind the ha-ha wall.  Apparently aircraft were kept here in readiness for action, it being a Satellite Landing Ground (SLG) site serving Fradley aerodrome, near Lichfield.  The Hall was also offered as an Auxiliary Red Cross Hospital during the war but nothing came of this, probably owing to the lack of mains water.  However, during the First World War, the Meynell home in London was offered to the War Office and the Red Cross and became a Military Hospital for officers, being used by Francis Meynell himself who was wounded in action. One feature at the Hall was the daily barometric readings; these had been taken since 1880 up until the Second World War, when readings ceased.  The Clerk of Works at Hoar Cross, namely one F W Lycett, had kept a meticulous Meteorological Register in the early years of the century.  He kept them in two large leather-bound volumes, the last entry being in February 1941. Once the war was over things got back to some sort of ‘normality’; however, times had changed and women were no longer satisfied with being in domestic service.  The attics, which were once full of servant girls, were now empty and by 1950 the number of servants had fallen to just three or four with a few men working in the gardens.  Over the next twenty years the beautiful gardens gradually fell into a state of decay, which is how we found them when we moved there in 1970. By now much of the Meynell estate lands had been disposed of.  Local properties were sold to tenants and others.  The Hoar Cross estate, once the pivot of the local community and a source of employment, was being considerably reduced.  Colonel Meynell, who had been seriously wounded in the Second World War, was suffering from his disability and it must have been difficult for him living in such a large house.  Therefore, in 1952 the family bought a smaller house in nearby Newborough called Hollybush Park.  I remember Mrs Meynell telling us a funny story about how her husband had come home one day and told her he had bought another house.  He was raving on about the ‘hard tennis courts, so much better than our grass ones’.  When they eventually moved into their new home, Mrs Meynell also told us how the servants were so excited to have a smaller house to clean!  How times have changed!  The Hall and contents were put up for sale after the family left in 1952 but the house failed to sell so they rented it out to a Dr Gillies and his wife, Maimi.  He was a highly regarded consultant at the local Burton General Hospital and it seems they lived in some style at the Hall.  They employed six staff including a Housekeeper, who lived at the Lodge.  Two of the floors were sumptuously furnished along with expensive paintings on the walls.  The ...

Viv Wilson | 18th September 1985 | Early Days

THE KITCHEN MAID’S STORY:      If you were young, free and single – oh, and very well-to-do – the 1920s were the decade to be a part of.   The upper classes had lots of time on their hands and enjoyed post-First World War delights such as the theatre and jazz clubs. Not so for the lower classes, in particular a young girl who was to become the kitchen maid at Hoar Cross Hall in the 1920s.  The depression after the First World War brought stark poverty to her home and many like her.  Her name was Jean Rennie, and she was extremely intelligent having won a scholarship to Glasgow University to study French and music.   However, the £5 bursary she got was taken by her father and used to buy whiskey in his local pub.  Her hopes of a career in music were dashed and she needed to find employment. Jean was now known as Jenny and had many jobs as a servant, including one in a castle in the Highlands!  She was, in her own words, a good housemaid but never a good servant.  With memories of hungry children fresh in her mind she could never get used to the wanton waste of food left on plates.  Her mistresses were always untidy with stockings, shoes and underwear “flung everywhere” and powder “spilt lavishly” – this always rankled with her and she never really got used to the ways of the aristocracy. She gradually travelled down the country and eventually found a job in London.  Although she was still a scullery maid, she worked under a skilled chef who taught her much and she hoped for a career as a cook.  Her employers were good and so were the wages.  When she got the job at the Hall she could not only read a menu (in customary French) but also write one and prepare many of the dishes herself.  Lady Dorothy Meynell was very impressed with her and as her husband, Hugo Meynell was about to take a small shooting party to their Laughton estate, she asked Jenny to go with them to do the cooking.  Jenny recalled how thrilled she was to ride alongside the chauffeur in the family Rolls-Royce. As ducks were early risers Jenny had to start cooking at around 3am to get breakfast ready for 4am before shooting began.  Colonel Meynell appeared pleased with her efforts and she was rewarded with £1 on her 21st birthday – a lot of money in those days! On her return to the Hall she found that a new temporary cook had started.  For the next four months her days were dominated by nagging and persecution, aided and abetted by the butler who joined in the game of baiting her.  Cooks like this were typical of her kind – ‘trained with the whip’ – and Jenny found the working conditions difficult.  However, leaving wasn’t easy as she lived at the Hall, all her belongings were there, her mother and sisters were all living and working a long way off and she also sent money home to her grandparents.  She was also determined not to be beaten by the cook. During ‘the season’ most of the staff went to the family’s London house.  For those of you who don’t know what ‘the season’ is, it was a time between January and June which coincided with the opening of Parliament.  The aristocracy went to their London mansions and were involved with lots of social events which politicians also attended – a form of 19th century networking.  Daughters of marriageable age were introduced to society and presented to the monarch of the day as debutantes.  They would be taken to a flurry of parties to meet eligible young men in the hope that they would make a good marriage.  For the servants it must have been quite exciting being in the big city and seeing all the sights and one of the benefits was that on their half day they would be allowed out until 10pm instead of 9.30pm! Once the season was over and Jenny returned to the Hall she was busy in the kitchen straightaway.  She tells how there were visitors arriving and her statement below shows the implications for the staff of a large country house:- “I do...

Viv Wilson | 10th September 1985 | Early Days

THE SCHOOLROOM MAID’S STORY:       For the first 75 years of the Hall’s history about 50 servants were employed by the Meynell family in the house and grounds.  Among these was a young girl of fifteen who started work in 1920 as a Schoolroom Maid.  Her name was Miss Inez Sophia Large and she had connections to Hoar Cross through her grand-parents, William and Mary Tooth, who lived in the village where William was the blacksmith; his smithy was just along from the Meynell public house.  He had worked on the ironwork of the Hall during its construction in the 1860s.  Inez’s aunt, Constance Madeley, was the wife of the landlord at the Buffalo Inn, in nearby Newborough, and it was through her that she secured the job at the Hall.  Inez’s parents were themselves in service; her mother had been a lady’s maid and her father was a butler for the Spanish Ambassador in London – from which source Inez assumes her Christian name originated. There was little choice but to go into service in those days (her sister, Beatrice, was also a nursery maid with the Earl and Countess of Lichfield), and she was engaged on a salary of £18 per annum.  Her mother made her uniform, which comprised of a morning dress and an afternoon dress, and Lady Dorothy Meynell supplied her cap.  She was the personal maid to Lady Dorothy’s eldest daughter, Dorothy, who was just four years younger than Inez.  She also looked after Dorothy’s younger sister, Rachael. The schoolroom at this time was situated just off the main Entrance Hall, and immediately below the nursery.  Inez worked under the supervision of Mrs Catt, the housekeeper, Miss Rhodes, the lady’s maid, and the head housemaid, Rose. Her day began at 6am every day and she was so afraid of oversleeping that she kept an alarm clock under her pillow!  The first job of the day was always to clean the grate and get the fires lit, then sweep and dust the schoolroom, lay the table for breakfast, call the governess, Miss Chromy, with morning tea, then to attend Miss Dorothy, and carry up breakfast, later to clear up and wash up in the still-room.  She was absolutely terrified of breaking a cup, or indeed, any crockery, as they would have to pay for it out of their wages.  This would really get her down sometimes and it led to her being really nervous all the time.  Once these jobs were done she went on to clean the workroom and the bedrooms of the governess and Miss Dorothy. All these chores were done before 9am as by then she had to be in a clean cap and apron and in attendance at the chapel ready for morning prayers.  All the family and staff had to attend although it was only prayers spoken by Colonel Meynell – no singing or music.   By mid-day she had again changed her outfit to an afternoon dress and made her way to the workroom to assist the lady’s maid in mending, sewing and general repairs to Miss Dorothy’s wardrobe.  It seems to me that people were forever changing their clothes in those days!  For the servants their morning dress was plain and serviceable covered with a large apron, for doing all the chores around the house.  Their afternoon dress was still plain but usually black and trimmed with a lace collar and cuffs.  The apron would have been smaller and possibly lacy; this was because they might be serving guests who usually called for afternoon tea. The evenings were spent attending to Miss Dorothy and putting her to bed by 8.30pm.  She then had to serve dinner to the governess.  Even Sunday wasn’t exactly a day of rest for the poor servant.  She had to attend Miss Dorothy and get her dressed for church by 10.30am.  Then she had to get herself ready and join the rest of the staff at church.  After lunch she helped Miss Dorothy change her dress again for the afternoon.  Most servants had one Sunday in four off – however, it wasn’t even a whole day off!  As they had to attend church their time off started at 2.30pm until 10.30pm and...

Viv Wilson | 1 days ago | Growing Up In a Stately Home

HERE COMES THE BRIDE (Part 2):    And so our wedding day at Hoar Cross Hall arrived bright and clear, all thoughts of solicitors, legals, fights and arrests behind us! Myself and my bridesmaids went to get our hair done in the morning and Kev slapped a piece of steak on his jaw to bring the swelling down after the rather unfortunate fight at his stag do. Fortunately, the bruise didn’t show up too much on the photos! Gavin drove my dad’s Mercedes Benz car all the way down the drive and back up the road to the church – this was one of the drawbacks of having a church in the grounds; you don’t get to drive all through the town with everyone looking at you! Never mind, a small crowd of locals were gathered around the gate to the church and we got out, had a few photos taken and walked down the aisle to ‘Here comes the bride’. However, as Kev had not attended the rehearsal (remember, he was fixing someone’s shower!), he didn’t have a clue what was going on or where to stand or anything! When we came to say our vows, the vicar got his name wrong and so I nearly married a ‘Derek’. There was much whispering at the front as we told him the correct name. Again, when I put my ring on the Bible, the vicar thought it was two rings as I had a Russian wedding ring with three bands. He started to say ‘with these rings……’ and once again, there was much whispering at the front as we explained that it was only one ring! And then, just as we were on our knees to receive the blessing, Chris Meek (my dad’s old racing driver) walked in with a beautiful model on his arm. She was wearing a short cheesecloth dress and with the sun behind her it was completely see through! Anyone who remembers the Lady Di photo will know what I mean! We heard a sharp intake of breath as the whole congregation turned to face the door – talk about upstaging the bride! Finally, the ceremony was over and I was married to Kev (not Derek) and as we walked out into the sunlight I felt a huge relief that it was all over and no-one had been arrested! However, the day was slightly marred by the fact that my mum wasn’t there and because she had been asked not to come, she had retaliated by not letting my little brother Piers come either. When the photos were being taken, Gavin, my other brother, was turning the car round and missed being in any of the shots! So out of my whole family, there was just me and my dad in the photos! But more annoying was the fact that a lot of the guests were rushing to have their photos taken next to Chris Meek’s brand new Ferrari! The Ferrari that stole the show!   However, the party was great and the band a huge success. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves and drank the bar dry. My dad brought down the promised bottles of champagne that he had been saving for all those years and put them on our table. After a while he noticed that everyone was happily drinking the cheaper pomagne, which we had bought for the toast, so he took all the bottles back upstairs to his room! We didn’t even get one for ourselves! Later on we had the speeches and, as I have said before, our best man was in the entertainment industry and was a professional performing magician. As he did his speech, he incorporated some of his tricks into the talk and guests were treated to bunches of flowers being pulled from his sleeve and strings of hankies appearing from nowhere. Finally a dove magically appeared from a hat and flew around the room – good job Percy the parrot wasn’t around! He did such a professional job that all Kev’s relatives thought we’d hired him for the day and couldn’t believe that he was our friend!   Chris (the magician) and Kev    As the party continued on into the night people gradually went home until there was just us and our friends left at 5am. Bodies were everywhere – someone had fallen asleep on the Entrance Hall steps, another couple were flat out on a sofa in the Long Gallery. ...

Viv Wilson | 11th January 2021 | Growing Up In a Stately Home

SEE YOU IN COURT:     The saga of my parents’ split continued as we grew up in our stately home, although their behaviour was anything but stately for most of the time! Seven years of arguing and fighting were about to come to an end and the solicitors had finally agreed on a date to go to court. We carried on helping my dad to run the Hall and he still went to his boat in Caernarfon at weekends to get away from the house but we were all getting weary of it now. We were young adults and wanting to get on with our own lives. After five years together we were hoping to get married at some point so we were glad that it was finally going to be sorted out one way or another. Gavin was now involved with a band who regularly supported The Jam so he was often travelling around the country with them. Piers had been sent to a local boarding school so we saw even less of him than before. My mum continued to live in the West Wing Apartment and was now seeing the singer who sang at the banquets. My dad sat on his own most nights with only the parrot for company. When he found out about the singer it started a fresh load of outbursts from him as he now felt that the pair of them were trying to take his house and business off him! He constantly ranted on about it and often threatened to shoot the singer with his gun – I don’t think he would have done but then again, with his temper, who knows! This latest twist in the story did nothing for my dad’s sanity and my mum was still hoping to have him committed and kept making appointments for him with the psychiatrist. Once again, the Police were called every week informing them of the threats on the singer’s life and they eventually took my dad’s gun licence off him just in case anything did happen! We tried to keep out of the way as much as possible and stayed in Burton all week, where we worked, and came home at weekends where we would meet up with our friends and party in the apartments out of sight and sound of my parents. One morning we came home at 8am after being out all night and met my dad on the stairs as we were going to bed. He looked surprised and said “You’re up early today aren’t you?” to which we just nodded and carried on to our bedrooms! We consoled ourselves by spending a lot of time in the Meynell Arms, the local pub in the village. When we walked in of an evening, everyone was keen to know the latest updates on the divorce and we would spend half an hour telling them all the news – it was like a real life soap opera! On Tuesday nights a bunch of the local businessmen would all meet up for a drink. These men were all middle aged, respectable professionals but on a Tuesday night they turned into a bunch of mad men! We loved it of course, being young and wanting to forget our miserable home life – what better way than a bit of madness? And so, after quite a few drinks, these guys would decide to take sides and have a fight. They piled all the furniture up at each end of the pub to make a barricade then used fire extinguishers and soda syphons to squirt water at each other until one side ‘won’. As you can imagine, the mess was horrendous; water was everywhere! Every week the cleaner resigned and they would have to find another one. What a place! A typical night at the Meynell!   But all this jollity didn’t put off the inevitable day in court. Birmingham Crown Court was where we all met to finally sort out this miserable mess that my parents had got themselves into. On the one side was my dad with his solicitor and barrister plus Kev and I for moral support. On the other side was my mum with her solicitor and barrister and one or two of the banquet staff for moral support. And so, there we all stood, our two little groups waiting in the corridor outside the court room. The solicitors were both giving out last minute instructions and conferring with their barristers on this and that. And then it was time; they called us in and we sat on e...

Viv Wilson | 11th January 2021 | Growing Up In a Stately Home

HERE COMES THE BRIDE (Part 1):   Now my dad was having to move out of the Hall we had decided to bring our wedding forward so that we could get married in the church in the grounds (the Church of the Holy Angels) and then have the reception afterwards in the Hall, which was after all our family home. The wedding preparations were going quite well and as we knew lots of musicians it wasn’t hard to find a local band and a DJ to do the disco. A friend of my dad’s offered to do the catering and the bar was set up with plenty of kegs from the local brewery in Burton on Trent. I had two bridesmaids and we all went to Birmingham one day to choose our dresses and shoes – it was all kept very simple really as I had no help or advice from my mum as most brides do. Kev’s parents had eloped after the war and got married in a register office with two witnesses dragged off the street, so they had no idea what you did to plan a wedding! I managed to find a church near to Kev’s house and sorted out the reading of the banns. Then we went to the vicarage across the road from my house and booked the date. The vicar told us in no uncertain terms that he would expect us to be there when the banns were read. However, as we never got up before lunch on a Sunday, try as we might, we never actually managed to hear our own banns being read! It was almost as bad at the wedding rehearsal. I went to the church with my dad and the two bridesmaids but Kev never managed to get there as he was fitting a shower for someone! I don’t think the vicar was very impressed with us! The nearer it got to our wedding date the more we worried about my mum turning up. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her there but that my dad told us we couldn’t possibly have her there as he would ‘see red’ and a row would ensue. We really didn’t want a huge argument on our wedding day but knowing my dad’s temper we weren’t sure that he would be able to control himself so he offered to see his solicitor to see if he had any suggestions. The solicitor suggested that we take out an injunction to stop my mum attending the wedding! Talk about extremes. It seemed to us that it was all getting out of hand – why couldn’t they just sit on each side of the church and ignore each other? They lived at each end of the house and ignored each other! A letter was sent to my mum threatening the injunction – looking back my poor mum must have been so upset. Her eldest daughter getting married and now their squabbles had spoilt what should have been a happy day. She must have visited the vicar to see what he could do as the next thing he was ringing us up and making an appointment to see him at the vicarage. We didn’t know what it was about until we got there and he gave us quite a talking to. He must have thought we were terrible people to try and ban my mother from our wedding but we tried to put our side of the story to him and told him of my dad’s terrible temper and how he might start an argument in the church. He then told us something that stunned us – he told us that vicars have the power of arrest in their church if anyone causes a disturbance; this is apparently from some ancient law. I wonder how many people know that? I think we just left it then and hoped that the solicitor’s letter would be enough. I did hear many years later on the grapevine that mum had crept in at the back of the church for a quick look before the ceremony ended – I hope she did.  She also sent a friend to take photos of us. But first we had to have our stag and hen dos. In those days it was always the night before the wedding, which seems ridiculous really considering all the excess drinking that usually goes on. How different to today’s brides and grooms who go off for whole weekends to some far flung place in the sun with a group of friends for fun and frolics a month before the Big Day. Much more sensible, if expensive! I decided to go out for a nice meal with my friend...

Viv Wilson | 03rd January 2021 | Growing Up In a Stately Home

A NEW YEAR CALAMITY!       The New Year’s Eve Balls at the Hall were usually the highlight of the year. After twelve months of hard work, especially running the Mediaeval Banquets twice a week through the winter, we were always ready to see out the year in style with a big new year party. In those days it was always black tie for the men and long dresses for the ladies – usually around 500 people bought tickets for an evening of entertainment with a dance band, disco and a meal. At midnight a man dressed in traditional Scottish regalia, including a kilt and sporran, would pipe in the new year with his bagpipes. Down the Long Gallery he would slowly walk and into the Ballroom with his pipes droning on. When midnight arrived a net full of balloons was dropped onto all the guests from the ceiling, out came the party poppers and hats and everyone joined hands to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’. Once all the traditional stuff was done the band started up again and we all did the Hokey Cokey, the Conga and other silly dances that only happen on New Year’s Eve! It was always great fun and I loved to dress up in my long dress. My parents were having a trial separation around this time so my dad had to run the New Year’s Eve Ball on his own. I helped, as I had before, with the administration; posting out tickets and doing a bit of book-keeping. The week prior to the Ball was spent moving furniture about and cleaning the house up after all the banquet tables and benches were removed. We usually used some of the banquet tables for people to sit at but this particular year my mum had stored them all away in the basement and put a lock on the door – these were her property now! This left my dad in a bit of a quandary about what to do for tables and after a lot of ranting he decided that he would have to hire some. As my dad was well known for being ‘careful’ with his money, he didn’t want to spend too much and hired the cheapest tables and chairs he could. They arrived on the day of the Ball in a van with a man (or two) and they carried them into the Ballroom and left. Kev and I went to set them out later on – it was only then that we realised why they were so cheap. The tables folded out but the chairs were all joined together in rows of 10! So it meant that every time someone got up to leave the table, the other 9 people had to get up too as they all pushed back together! Eventually we got the house sorted out and hoped that people wouldn’t be too bothered about the chairs. Then my dad noticed that the Christmas tree lights weren’t working. In true dad style he went down to his basement workshop and found some old lights that weren’t really safe to use – however, he insisted that he could fix them with a bit of tape even though Kev (who was a trained electrician) told him they were unsafe and he would be willing to go to the next village to buy some new ones. But my dad wouldn’t have it and he certainly wouldn’t spend the few pounds required, so they were botched up much to Kev’s disgust and hung on the tree. Kev and I on New Year's Eve   As we went to switch the lights on just before people arrived, they blew the main fuse in the fuse box. My mum had locked the cupboard that contained the fuse boxes because she kept all the bar stock in there and as she had gone away for new year there was no way of getting the key. My dad was furious and asked Kev to break into the cupboard. Once again we were ‘breaking and entering’ at my dad’s command – at least we had a valid reason this time! An enormous crowbar was found in the workshop and Kev set to work on the door, wood splintering everywhere – these doors were incredibly well made! Eventually we got in and Kev managed to re-set the fuse box – the lights were thrown away. People were starting to arrive but they were a little late getting to us. One or two complained about the car parking facilities but we didn’t think anything of it as we ...