In the first place, the ceilings of all servants’ rooms should be whitewashed once a year, and the walls colour-washed, unless these are papered with the washable sanitary wall-papers that are really hygienic, and which would look well, and are rather nicer than the colour-wash, which is apt to come off on one’s clothes; and the floor should be bare of all covering, and should simply have dhurries laid down by each bed, and by the washing-stands &c. Those wash splendidly, and always keep clean and nice, while the curtains at the window should be some cheap cretonne that would wash nicely, and draw and undraw easily, or else they will soon be rendered too shabby for use.
Each servant should have a separate bed, if possible, and that bed should be as comfortable as can be, without being unduly luxurious. The perfection of a bed for a servant, as for any one else, is the chain or wooden-lath mattress arrangement, with a good mattress on it, a pillow or two, and a bolster. No valances or curtains of any kind should be allowed, neither should their own boxes be kept in their rooms. One can give them locks and keys to their chests of drawers and wardrobes; but if their boxes are retained in the room, they cannot refrain somehow from hoarding all sorts of rubbish in them.
I should like myself to give each maid a really pretty room, but at present they are a little hopeless on this subject—as witness the smashed china and battered furniture that greets our alarmed sight at the inspection that should take place at least twice a year—but, alas! it is impossible. No sooner is the room put nice than something happens to destroy its beauty; and I really believe servants only feel happy if their rooms are allowed in some measure to resemble the homes of their youth, and to be merely places where they lie down to sleep as heavily as they can.
The simpler, therefore, a servant’s room is furnished the better, and, if possible, a cupboard of some kind should be provided for them where they can hang up their dresses; this will enable them to keep them nice longer than they otherwise would were chairs or a hook on the door the only resting-place provided for the gowns. But, if this be impossible, a few hooks must supplement the chest of drawers, washing-stand, bedchair, and toilet-table with glass, which is all that is required in the room of a maid-servant, whose sheets, pillows, blankets, and other ‘portable property’ should all be marked with her name, and should be in her individual care as long as she is in your service—that is to say, that the property should be marked ‘Cook,’ ‘Housemaid,’ ‘Parlourmaid,’ &c.; this individualises each single thing, and makes the temporary owner responsible for it, and her alone. The sheets should be changed once in three weeks, also the pillow-cases, while three towels to each maid a week are none too much to allow them to use, do we desire them to be clean. If two or more servants share one room, the washstands and chests of drawers must be as many in number as the inmates of the room; this will save endless discussions and disagreeables, for after all maids are but mortal, and squabbles will arise out of small matters like these, which, ridiculous as they sound, are very often at the bottom of the troubles of those who are constantly changing their servants.
And, while we are on the subject of servants’ rooms, I will just make a few remarks on this most intricate subject of domestic management, and will whisper what I really think is at the bottom of a good many of the troubles anent servants that undoubtedly exist. In the first place, mistresses are all too often like the parents of grown-up sons and daughters, who cannot remember that the curled and frilled darlings of the nurseries have become young men and women, and are exchanging the control of the schoolroom for the kindly advice that should never be out of place between parent and children, who, grow as tall as they will, can never be as old as those to whom they owe their existence. And inasmuch as parents all too often exercise this control when advice would be so much more in place, so do mistresses control and fret the maids, who would not fret at all were the silk chain, ‘Don’t you think?’ used instead of the arbitrary command, ‘I insist on the work being done as I order it.’ Then, too, we are all apt to forget how dull the ordinary routine of a servant’s life is. True, she has the joy of her morning gossip with the tradesman, and her few hours on Sunday; but that is not much for a young healthy girl, who appreciates pleasure as well as do our tennis-playing, ball-going daughters, and it is much better to try and give her some amusement oneself, instead of winking at the ‘evenings out’ and furtively stolen absences which most mistresses allow, because, otherwise, their maids would not stay. This can easily be done in these days by any one who lives in or near town; while even in the country there are always excursions to be made, or the county town to be visited, even if there are no picture-galleries or exhibitions as there are in London.
Besides which, servants like to know what is going on, even if they cannot go to things themselves. They fully appreciate being told of what one has seen oneself, and a cheerful account of a visit to London or to the theatre, &c., is as much appreciated by a maid as by the friends we regale with our experiences, who no doubt do not care for the account at all, and only wonder at our foolishness in wasting our time and money.
We have to face a great fact, also: in olden days our mothers as well as their maids were content with very much less than we are. They may have been, and no doubt were, much happier, but that is beside the question, more especially as we cannot return to the ‘good old days’ even if we would; but the fact remains the same. We have advanced, so have our servants; and when they can beat us at sums and geography, stand too much on our level to be thought of merely as the servants, who are to be content with anything we may choose to give them, and therefore must be treated in an entirely different manner to the old style.
Realise this, and domestic management is much simplified, because if we treat our maids just as we treat ourselves we shall find our trouble almost disappear. I invariably leave my maids a good deal to themselves about their work; and once they know what has to be done, I find it is done without my constantly being after them to see whether they have finished what I have told them to do or not; and it is well also to carefully consider what one’s housekeeping bills ought to be once and for all, and if the books are less than that, praise the cook; if more, at once and firmly demonstrate that this is not right; but be prepared with your facts, and let her see that you really do understand your business, which is to carefully administer your income, and to see that no waste is allowed. It is impossible for one person to tell another what sum she ought to spend per week on her household, as one can only make a guess; individual tastes must be consulted, and people do not eat alike—for example, two or three people in my household never touch butter, one or two never use sugar or tea, and therefore what does for us does not do for the world at large; but for a household of ten persons, including washing, and allowing for a constant flow of visitors, the bills should never exceed 6l., and can very often be very much less. It is not well to ‘allowance’ servants, it is not a nice way of managing, and is no real save; honest servants do not require allowancing, and dishonest ones will not refrain from taking your property because they are only supposed to use just so much, on themselves.
To insure good servants, it is imperative that we should make real friends of those who live under our roof. We may be deceived once now and then; we may even be tricked and cheated, and be tempted to say in our haste that ‘the poor in a loomp is bad’; but we must take courage and go on again, being quite sure that sooner or later we shall be rewarded by the love and care of one, if not more, of those who, while dwelling in our midst, too often are quite strangers to us, and are no more to us than the chairs on which we sit, and the tables at which we write.
How often, for example, do we understand the feelings with which a servant enters a new place? Do we recollect that she comes a stranger to strangers; that we have no idea of the hopes and fears, the thoughts and dreads, with which she enters our portals; that she is wondering whether we shall be distrustful or unkind or fairly sympathetic; and that she may spend her first night in tears by the side of a girl who was a complete stranger to her a few hours before, but with whom she will be obliged to spend most of her days and nights, whether she be nice or nasty, clean or the reverse?