Servants Who Steal
Several commentators have asked about servants who stole.
This is a special case of all situations where rich and poor live or work close together. Today shops report that their employees shoplift.
So I’ll just make three observations about theft in the kitchen.
1. Kitchens were designed to prevent theft. When my parents moved into the farm house in which I grew up there was no direct access from the “housewife’s parlor” and the pantry that opened off it to the adjacent kitchen. The kitchen servants had to go out the kitchen door, into the back patio, knock on the door leading to the back hall of the house, and ask the housewife for any supplies they needed.
Not burdened with servants, my parents opened (or had opened) the three foot stone wall between the pantry and the kitchen. But this was standard in large farmhouses as we discovered when we found the pattern book with plans for farmhouses like ours.
2. Stores were doled out daily, a standard chore for housewives who had servants. Any book on British India, for example, lists this as one of the first tasks of the day.
3. The line between theft and rights was shadowy. Having lived in various places were servants were common and plowed my way through various housekeeping books, it is clear that servants who shopped generally expected and were allowed a small cut on the purchases for the household. Servants either live in or at least eat a main meal in the house, that this was and is part of their wages. Servants might eat leftovers from the main table. They might be entitled to the leftovers of their own and others’ meals to do with what they want. The sale of bones and kitchen grease, for example, was a thriving business in nineteenth century London and I am sure in many other cities too.
Severants are very much a part of life in Africa – and ‘even’ Omer, our cook/livestock handler, has several ‘garcons’ – mainly poor boys of relatives from the country – who live with him, help with the cooking, goat herds and farming. They get room and board, some spending money, medical treatment, and of course the romance that country boys consider is part of living near the capital of Bujumbura. It is quite common for servants to have servants, and this is also the case in Egypt and elsewhere in the Middle East.
Whether Omer’s ‘helpers’ or those working for families of various socio-economic strata, it is generally considered that these workers either should be given a monthly stipend in kind [e.g., beans and rice] or have access to some of the cuisine. Usually what is left over. Systems of patronage between servant/worker and employer continue to be important and food and local beer are key ingredients in keeping these systems working smoothly.
And it is always preferable to lock up ‘everything’ consumable. Often, in a small pantry or in some cupboards. As well, referigerators and freezers are generally sold with locks. Not a matter of ‘trust’ or ‘sticky fingers’ (as we might interpret) as much as a matter of items being considered a kind of ‘free game’ ! So, what we might intrepret as theft is actually part of a different kind of exchange system.
And as you point out, there are no items wasted. What is not eaten goes to the dogs; vegetable leaves and so forth may go to the livestock – and what’s left after that goes into the compost heap. Quite an environmentally friendly system, often with far stronger social expectations/links between employer-employee that in the West.
To follow up on Diana’s comment, it’s also interesting how young being a servant starts. When I was teaching in Nigeria, my Nigerian counterpart, Kate, (same age, same salary, same qualifications, that is not much of any of them, about 19 years old, 18 pounds sterling a month, A levels) had a servant. She was 6-7 years old, and that very elastic term, a “cousin.”
The deal was that Kate paid for her keep and school costs and she did the basic cleaning of Kate’s two-room apartment on the end of the school building, ran errands, did whatever simple tasks she could.
> The line between theft and rights was shadowy.
Peter Linebaugh’s The London Hanged, a social history of 18th century London drawing on the records of those hanged at Tyburn, is very interesting on these. The cases he looks at are of apprentices rather than servants, but there’s a similarly blurred line between theft and rights. As Linebaugh describes it, there was a shift in the definition of what constituted theft by apprentices over the 18th century as more and more traditional income-supplementing ‘rights’ (eg to sell scraps of fabric if you worked for a weaver) became redefined as theft, and the practitioners dealt with via the criminal justice system.
Fascinating. Am adding Linebaugh to my must read list right now.
It’s a fantastic book for anybody with any interest at all in social history, I think – beautifully written, and full of the nitty gritty detail of how people earned their livings and kept a roof over their head.