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Content SUBVERSIVE SERVITUDE:
PAMELA AND CONDUCT BOOKS FOR SERVANTS
by
Rebecca Estelle Rumbo
A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(English)
May 1992
Copyright 1992 Rebecca E. Rumbo
U M I Number: DP23174
All rights reserved
INFORMATION TO ALL U SERS
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a note will indicate the deletion.
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UMI D P23174
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UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
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LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90007
This dissertation, w ritten by
Rebecca Estelle Rumbo
under the direction of hsx Dissertation
Committee, and approved by all its members,
has been presented to and accepted by The
Graduate School, in partial fulfillm ent of re
quirem ents for the degree of
Ph.Q-
F
)°I2
1 2 . ^ 3 1 0
D O C T O R OF PH ILO SO PH Y
Dean of Graduate Studies
Date
..v m
DISSERTATION COMMITTEE
Chairperson
i i
Dedicated with love and gratitude
to Koala, Barney, F. Dinkum, et alia
and David
sine auibus non
i i i
Acknowledgements
In writing this dissertation, I have unearthed the
truth discovered by all writers: that no one creates
in isolation? that the encouragement and support of
many are needed for solitary achievement. Each page
that follows reflects the love and assistance of my
friends. Most especially, I would like to thank:
My grandmother, Bessie Vest Crabb, for teaching me to
read on her lap— the best place to learn?
My family. Noble and Mary Ann, Coupie and Doobie, the
Koos, Nathan and Gadget, for not asking, "How's the
dissertation going?" more than once a week (each)?
Linda Palumbo and Frank Gaik, who not only held my
hand, but persuaded me that, in the Derridean
universe, the dissertation was "always already"
written, which relieved my anxiety considerably?
Penny von Helmolt, who persuaded me that if all those
other idiots had done it, I could too?
George and Lucy Tew, for grinning and growing teeth?
Allen Ginsberg, for providing me with inspiration?
Mikey, for always caring?
John Hedenberg, for his fatherly kindness?
Michael Halls and the staff at the Clark Library, who
have the knack of making Scholarly Research seem cozy
and delightful?
Professor Donald J. Greene, my first mentor, who
taught me to love eighteenth-century literature, and
to regard with scorn unexamined premises?
Professor Virginia Tufte, for grammatical consulting
and professional cheerleading?
Professors Leo Braudy and Nancy Vickers, who
cheerfully and courageously agreed to take on a dark
horse ?
iv
Professor Paul Alkon, a prince among committee chairs.
It's impossible to enumerate the many debts I owe him
for his support and generosity: when I popped up out
of leftest field, he willingly took on the task of
guiding me through a dissertation, though I had no
topic; he never left me in limbo, but read each
chapter and provided feedback within a day or two; and
in general has made the fearsome task of writing a
dissertation as close to easy as it can be;
and my husband David A. Stern, who kept me out of a
mental institution by treating me with as much
solicitude as if I had already checked in. My yoke
has been easy and my burden light because he has
shouldered so much of the load.
V
In recommending reading, however, I
must caution you, in the words of a
contemporary writer, "against such
books as would not only take up your
time unprofitably, but might also tend
to corrupt your principles, inflame
your worst passions, and make you
dissatisfied with your condition. I
mean novels, tales, and romances,
which have led many a girl to ruin, by
drawing fanciful pictures of love and
adventures, such as never could have
happended. If you wish to be happy,
avoid all such; for they will only
fill your fancy with vain images, and
make you hopelessly wish for
miraculous events that never can
happen; for it is not once in a
hundred years that a rich squire will
fall in love with, and marry his
servant, though it happens every day
that they will pretend love till the
unsuspecting maid is caught in the
snare and ruined for life. The reading
of novels and tales, I am quite
certain, is usually the forerunner of
all such misfortunes."
The Female Servants Adviser, or
The Service Instructor [1819]
O Failure I chant your terrifying name
Allen Ginsberg, "Ode to Failure,"
1980
v i
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction............................................1
Chapter 1
Conditions of Eighteenth-Century Servitude. . .20
Chapter 2
Eighteenth-Century Conduct Books for Servants. .76
Chapter 3
Chastity and Silence.............................148
Chapter 4
"Pamela, Her Own Self".......................... 212
Epilogue..............................................276
Bibliography of Primary Sources....................293
Bibliography of Secondary Sources..................301
1
Introduction
In the last two decades, the revolution in
literary theory has accepted explicitly ideological—
feminist and Marxist or sociological— as well as post
structuralist readings of literature. This shift has
provoked interest in the literature by and about
women, minorities and other ' ’ marginalized1 1 groups, and
the ways that mainstream literary works subvert and
are subverted by the inclusion of such voices. At the
same time, such approaches to literature have
broadened the canon and the demi-canon to include many
not strictly literary texts which both provided the
original frame of reference for and informed, in
structure and in content, works traditionally accepted
as literature. An example of a genre which hovers on
the verge of canonicity is courtesy or conduct
literature, a category of writing which explicitly
concerns itself with social hierarchies, and
implicitly describes the means by which both women and
lower-class citizens of both genders were placed in
positions of inferiority within the power structure of
society.
2
The eighteenth century in England is widely
acknowledged to be an era of significant social
change, particularly as far as the roles and
identities of women are concerned. Whether one
believes that artists mirror or create social
concerns, the preoccupation of writers— Addison and
Steele, Pope, Defoe, Richardson, Burney,
Wollstonecraft and Austen, to name the most prominent
— with the status of women, the emotions of women, and
the behavior of women reveals that eighteenth-century
Englishwomen had become a social conundrum requiring
constant discussion in the press. The sub-genre of
courtesy and conduct books aimed less frequently at
male readers, more often addressing a female audience
during this era. But excepting a handful of studies,
historical analysis of English conduct and courtesy
books jumps from the seventeenth century to the
Victorian era; almost no attention has been paid to
the eighteenth-century tradition.
One question that must arise in any consideration
of printed material of an earlier century is that of
audience. Who was the audience for conduct books for
servants? were they in fact "for" servants, or for
masters? Most studies of the eighteenth-century novel
have defined their audience as middle- to upper-class
readers of leisure, mostly women whose fathers or
husbands were sufficiently wealthy to desire the
status symbol of idle wives or daughters. On the face
of it, it seems unlikely that such an audience, who
may indeed have enjoyed Pamela. would have found these
servant conduct books either entertaining or
informative. After all, a Lady Davers would hardly
need to know how to sweep a staircase. Of the
eighteenth-century reading public, a few general
statements may be made.
Ian Watt, in his seminal work The Rise of the
Novel. states that the literate public in eighteenth-
century England was small: "a maximum newspaper-
reading public of less than half a million." Even
sales figures for best-sellers "[suggest] a book-
buying public that is still numbered only in tens of
thousands" (36). There was, then, no mass reading
audience such as we of the twentieth century have come
to expect. Watt mentions "the very limited
distribution of literacy," by which he means "a bare
capacity to read and write," such skills being "far
from universal" (37).1 He briefly analyzes education,
concluding that educational opportunities were
extremely limited. Richard Altick, discussing the
early eighteenth-century charity schools sponsored by
the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, writes
that "[their] sole intention was to enable the child
to read the Bible, the catechism, and such other works
of approved piety as might come his way" (33) . It is
worth remembering that, while this may have
constituted only functional literacy by eighteenth-
century standards, the ability to read the Bible and
the Anglican catechism is far beyond many twentieth-
century college students.
Despite the limitations on literacy in the
eighteenth century, says Watt,
There were, however, two large and
important groups of relatively poor
people who probably did have time and
opportunity to read— apprentices and
household servants, especially the
latter. They would normally have
leisure and light to read by; there
would often be books in the house; if
there were not, since they did not
have to pay for their food and
lodging, their wages and vails could
be devoted to buying them if they
chose; and they were, as ever,
peculiarly liable to be contaminated
by the example of their betters. (47)
Altick agrees; "Thanks to the greater provision of
schools in the towns, the more pressing need for
literacy under urban conditions, and the easier
availability of printed matter, people on the social
level of artisans and domestic servants could read"—
at least, in the cities (40).
5
Even given Watt's rather idealized portrait of
domestic servitude, access to reading material was
restricted by economics; "Prices [of books] were
roughly comparable with those today, whereas average
incomes were something like one-tenth of their present
monetary value" (41)— of course, he was writing over
thirty years ago, and values have continued to
fluctuate to the point where, according to Richard
Schwartz, one-fortieth would be nearer the mark (44-
45). But Watt points out that novels were relatively
inexpensive, ranging from 2s. 3d. in sheets to 3s.
bound; pamphlets and newspapers were much cheaper, the
former costing "threepence to a shilling," the latter
"one penny until a tax was imposed in 1712, rising to
three-halfpence or twopence until 1757" (42). It
seems quite possible, then, that domestic servants
were literate and could afford at least the less
expensive conduct books.
Walter Ong has informed us that "The Writer's
Audience is Always a Fiction." The truth of this
statement is multiplied many times in historical
extrapolation; those who bought the conduct books to
read are long since dead and most of them forgotten.
We cannot know with certainty who they were. But we
may speculate, based on details in the texts, on who
6
they might have been. Thomas Seaton's lengthy and
ponderously written The Conduct of Servants in Great
Families does not appear to be intended for the
borderline literate, though it may well have been
purchased by devout employers for the edification of
their servants. Indeed, Seaton's dedicatory epistle
to his patron, the Right Honourable Daniel, Earl of
Nottingham, concerns itself so exclusively with
explaining that Seaton didn't observe the examples of
bad conduct in the Earl's household that one begins to
wonder whether the Earl himself isn't the intended
audience. Perhaps Seaton was hoping for the
chaplain's equivalent of tenure in publishing his
book.
Zinzano, on the other hand, dedicates his book to
the trustees of the charity-schools, and states that,
as the young pupils leave the charity-schools, they
may find useful "this little manual of moral duties
suitable to their more advanced Age, and Condition of
Life" (4). His style, while not exactly informal, is
simpler than Seaton's, and seems within the
comprehension of children able to read devotional
literature. In fact, The Servants Calling appears to
be written in imitation of biblical style. Zinzano is
7
easy to follow? he numbers his points, and carefully
organizes his arguments.
Some conduct books seem clearly to be written for
servants, because they provide directions on how to
perform the practical duties of various posts. The
Female Servants Adviser. Hannah Woolley's The
Compleat Servant-Maid. and Anthony Heasel1s The
Servants Book of Knowledge fall into this category.
Such "how-to" books emphasize the practical: how to
clean satin, how to sweep a room. Conduct is usually
treated only in passing, although these books do
frequently offer advice on how to improve oneself and
one1s status as a servant.
"Conduct" books were clearly aimed at the middle
and lower classes. Authors concerned with the
behavior of the upper classes addressed their
audiences in the "courtesy" books of the same era.
The classic study of courtesy books in England is John
Mason's survey Gentlefolk in the Making: Studies in
the History of English Courtesy Literature and Related
Topics from 1531 to 1774 (1935; rpt. 1971). Since
that time six decades ago, most scholars writing on
the topic have fixed on medieval and Renaissance
courtesy books, often addressing European culture as a
whole, with a few studies of English courtesy books.
8
Almost all such studies focus on manuals intended for
the middle and upper classes; "courtesy writers
directed their advice to an aristocratic audience,"
asserts Michael Curtin (396). The great exception, J.
Jean Hecht's masterful The Domestic Servant Class in
Eiahteenth-Centurv England (1956; rpt. 1980), draws
heavily on conduct books for servants in delineating
the social history of a class which has been as
overlooked by twentieth-century scholars as by their
eighteenth-century employers. Laura A. Curtis's "A
Case Study of Defoe's Domestic Conduct Manuals
Suggested by The Family. Sex and Marriage in England.
1500-1800" (SECC 10, 1981), is unique in examining the
broad range of classes to which Defoe appealed.
Clearly, historians have neglected conduct books for
servants.
A few important studies have dealt narrowly with
the relation between eighteenth-century conduct books
and literature, as for example Joyce Hemlow's "Fanny
Burney and the Courtesy Books" (PMLA, 1950). In
Desire and Domestic Fiction: A Political History of
the Novel (1986), Nancy Armstrong devotes a chapter to
the consideration of the conduct book's influence on
the novel, but her Marxist-feminist thesis— that the
modern person brought into being by the English novel
9
is a middle-class woman caught in the conflict between
aristocratic impulses and thrifty bourgeois values—
restricts her to conduct books for the middle and
upper-middle classes; she does not discuss those aimed
at servants. The only example I have been able to
find of a specifically literary critique of a
servant's conduct manual is "Swift's Directions to
Servants and the Reader as Eavesdropper," by Janice
Thaddeus (SECC 16, 1986), which places Swift's satiric
book within the context of other conduct literature
for servants. In short, the connection between
conduct books for servants and the early novel has
been largely ignored.
That this terra should still be incognita is the
more surprising when one considers that Pamela— not
only the first novel by Richardson, but also,
canonical tradition tells us, the first "real" novel
in English— features a protagonist who is a servant-
maid. Yet although much has been said about Pamela
and her Virtue, no one has yet examined the degree to
which she is (and isn't) an authentic servant. Much
can be said on either side, because in many ways
Pamela's class standing is as ambiguous as her moral
character, which has split the interpretive community
for over two centuries. When the novel is examined
10
with reference to eighteenth-century conduct books,
this ambiguity can be seen to be a necessary aspect of
the book's subversiveness. (After all, if a fifteen-
year-old female servant's assertion of her right to
freedom of choice is not subversive, then what is?)
Of course, there is the snide critical attitude that
treats the book superficially, as though Mr. B. were
the perpetrator of a fraternity prank: "There is
Pamela, there is Mr. B. hot in pursuit of her
virginity. Will she lose it? Will she? Won't she?
The suspense is everything, and the screw is turned to
the uttermost" (Walter Allen, The English Novel, p.
33). But the book is not merely about screws—
turned, attempted, or otherwise. Pamela is about the
ultimately subversive act: the creation of an
individual self, the more remarkable for its having
been accomplished by a female servant, a member
simultaneously of two subordinated groups.
To be sure, some of Richardson's critics have
acknowledged a connection between his fictions and
contemporary conduct books. Most who mention it,
however, either state that the connection is beyond
the scope of their work (Konigsberg, 5) or, as in the
case of the Eaves and Kimpel biography, dismiss its
significance:
Parallels between [Richardson's] piety
and . . . the Puritan conduct books
have been noted, but parallels are not
sources: Richardson's piety need not
have been learned from any book; it
was the general property of his class.
We do not deny that he has much in
common with this unread literature. On
the other hand, what Richardson shares
with it is least interesting in him.
(117)
The existence of this dissertation demonstrates my
. * * • • . o
disagreement with such a dismissive attitude. I
agree that Richardson was a genius, but it is
anachronistic to spurn conduct literature as "unread";
it was certainly read by Richardson's audience, even
if not by twentieth-century biographers. My purpose
here is to restore to modern students of Pamela a lost
part of the novel's original context: a part that I
believe is significant, if we are to appreciate more
fully the novel's impact and appeal when it first
appeared in November of 1740. Implicit in such a
statement is, of course, my belief that understanding
the context of a work of art is valuable— is
necessary— to a more complete understanding of the
work in both the past and in the present. This is, I
believe, the purpose both of literary history and
literary criticism.
12
But not all present-day critics reject the
connection between the literary and the paraliterary.
"Many of the new novels were trying to fulfil some of
the functions of the conduct books, by imparting
direct or implied advice to women about behaviour,"
Margaret Doody observes in her study of Richardson
(2 0). Doody presents an intriguing consideration of
the "Tory" versus "Whig" views of marriage in Pamela
(87), and examines Richardson's dichotomous social
code: "Like all of Richardson's heroines, Pamela is at
her best when defying the world" (94). But in her
analysis of the married Pamela, she is dealing with a
middle-to-upper class woman, not with a servant; as
Mrs. B., Pamela's "Whole Duty" is indistinguishable
from Clarissa's, and Doody does not take up conduct
books for servants. By the time Richardson got to
Pamela II. he was no longer questioning "the structure
of society," but affirming it in good bourgeois
fashion (309).
In Samuel Richardson: A Man of Letters. Carol
Houlihan Flynn considers the way that Richardson makes
conduct the crux of all his writings, from the
Apprentice's Vade Mecum to Sir Charles Grandison. In
Richardson's work, she argues, the self-made man or
woman will rise above an inferior social position by
affirming that social inferiority simultaneously with
moral superiority, a paradoxically arrogant
submission: "Richardson is offering a new definition
of quality, unrelated to birth and position" (159-60).
Pamela's quality as a human being proceeds directly
from her ambiguous social standing; she "has no fixed
position. . . . [and] does not officially fit in
anywhere" (136), not unlike the middle class of
eighteenth-century England. For Flynn, Pamela's
history becomes a myth of social progress aimed at
middle-class readers (157), a symbolic (and didactic)
autobiography of Richardson, the working-class
apprentice who became both Master Printer and founding
father of English fiction. Thus, she argues,
Richardson's novels are not merely influenced by
conduct books; they are conduct books.
Sylvia Kasey Marks takes this idea one step
further in her study Sir Charles Grandison: The
Compleat Conduct Book (1986), in which she analyzes
the novel as an example of a middle-to-upper class
courtesy manual. She agrees with Flynn that
Richardson's works exhibit "a lifelong effort to write
conduct books" (44) ; her thesis is that Sir Charles
Grandison is more properly viewed as "the finest
example" of a conduct book than as a poor excuse for a
14
novel. In other words, Marks argues that Richardson's
famous "new species of writing" is an etiquette book
with a plot. This narrowness of vision leads her into
absurdities such as her assertion that Pamela was
written "for young servant girls" (57) (emphasis
mine). Although she disliked the book, Lady Mary
Wortley Montagu did read it; one trembles to think of
her reaction to Marks's characterization of the
novel's audience. But Marks only treats Pamela in
passing, since her concern is with Richardson's last
novel.
Michael McKeon, who examines Pamela in his
influential study of the origins of the novel, begins
by considering, as does Flynn, the role of power in a
hierarchical society: "Pamela's central concern is the
dilemma of how those without power may be justified in
gaining it" (364) so as to assert their moral
equality. Pamela gains such moral force strictly by
means of authorship, for it is through reading her
journal and letters that Mr. B. and his fellow
unregenerate aristocrats are converted to spiritual
regeneration. Thus the novel is not a conduct book in
any worldly sense, but a spiritual autobiography;
Pamela's inherent nobility is not merely a matter of
courtesy, but a sign of election and divine favor.
15
Like Flynn, McKeon believes that the novel is in part
a portrait of a society in flux: "Mr. B. is, in short,
as transitional a figure as Pamela is, and they are
equally and symmetrically representative of . . . the
rise of the middle class" (366), which for McKeon is a
matter of Hegelian dialectics, the erratic zig-zag
transition from feudalism to capitalism. Pamela's
ambiguous social position stems from the tension
between her training as a lady (courtesy of Lady B)
and her occupation as a servant. "The solution to the
crisis is, of course, marriage," concludes McKeon, a
marriage that subordinates convenience and social
position to love and virtue (371-2). Ironically,
McKeon points out, economic hierarchy is relinquished
only through the reiteration of gender hierarchy, and
Lady Davers is reconciled to her brother B's marriage
only after he has reminded her that "she is a woman
first and a lady second" (379).
Thus, those critics who have considered
Richardson and the conduct books have centered their
discussion either on the ways that middle-class
conduct books influenced Richardson, or on the ways
that Richardson's novels are themselves conduct books.
While these studies raise issues vital to our
understanding both of Pamela and of her creator's art,
16
they remain tangential to the scope of this study: the
conduct books for servants which provided the context
within which Pamela was read, which determined the way
the servant girl was understood in 1740, and which
illuminate our understanding of her. Unless, for
example, we have a clear understanding of what it
meant to be a servant, we can have no basis for
claiming that Richardson's art is or is not
subversive— for we have not fully grasped what system
he asserts or undermines. I am persuaded that
Pamela's roles as servant, author, and wife hinge,
finally, on the ways she violates the rules of conduct
for her class.
Chapter one of the present study describes the
conditions of eighteenth-century servitude, including
the number of servants in a large household such as
Mr. B's, the class origins of servants, the servant
hierarchy, and the living conditions (including wages)
of servants. The chapter also describes the kinds of
criticism aimed at servants in the pamphlet press of
the time, and the less common apologies for servants.
In chapter two, I describe and analyze the
available and relevant conduct books for servants,
since such material is unfamiliar to most scholars.
The chapter first demonstrates that conduct books were
17
quasi-religious documents which require of servants
not skills, but virtues — especially the virtues of
humility and obedience. The chapter concludes with a
discussion of literacy among eighteenth-century
servants.
Chapter three considers two important virtues
advocated by the conduct books, chastity and silence,
and explores the connection between the two. Servants
are repeatedly exhorted— often in explicitly Biblical
terms— to remain silent in the face even of a master's
unjust abuse; never to speak outside the household of
even the most trivial family matter; and to comply
with all commands given by the master, excepting only
those that break the laws of God (such as the law
adjuring chastity). Chastity and silence were
required not only of all servants, but of all women,
even those of the upper classes. Awareness of such
rules adds to our understanding of Pamela and also
clarifies the novel's satiric portrayal of upper-class
ladies.
Chapter four discusses Pamela in light of conduct
books for servants. Given the interplay between the
discourse of servant instruction and the discourse of
Richardson's fiction, how must we re-evaluate Pamela?
In this chapter, such matters as Pamela's placement in
18
the servant hierarchy and her more ambiguous class
origins are examined. These class origins are made
more hazy by the fairy tale subtext of the novel,
which consistently demonstrates Pamela's "true"
identity as a lady. Pamela is, however, subversive
not only because of her ambiguous social status, but
because of her insistence on control— control of both
her body and of her story.
19
Notes
1 Although Watt optimistically suggests "a very
considerable increase" in "the growth of the reading
public" during the eighteenth century, Richard Altick,
in The English Common Reader, says that "in the Tudor
and Stuart eras the ability to read was more
democratically distributed among the English people
than it would again be until the end of the eighteenth
century" (18). Of course, Altick, as a Victorianist,
occasionally exhibits a slight professional bias
against the eighteenth century. However, such
contradictory interpretations of data should act
primarily as a cautionary indication of the dangers of
historical extrapolation.
2 Earlier in their biography, Eaves and Kimpel
excuse their having spent three pages on Richardson's
first known work, The Apprentice's Vade Mecum. by
stating that the early pamphlet
is hard to come by; it is typical of
the ethical system which provided the
background against which Richardson
wrote; and it is our first glimpse
into Richardson's mind, none the less
interesting because the ideas in that
mind resemble the ideas in many other
minds of the time. What a man shares
with his class and age is of course
important, and at least as important
are his own variations on the common
theme. We hope that the reader is
prepared . . . to look for what in
Richardson was peculiarly Richardson's
as well as for what belonged to the
context. The Vade Mecum gives a good
picture of the context. (54)
What is most surprising about this passage is its
apologetic tone. The first work, however
unremarkable, of a remarkable writer does not need
such a shamefaced defense. Imagine such a tone being
taken with The Comedy of Errors or the juvenilia of
the Brontes! That a writer is of his time is no
crime; a writer who is not in touch with his era will
certainly never sell as many books as Richardson did.
,
20
Chapter 1
Conditions of Eighteenth-Century Servitude
i
The due observance of all stational
and relational duties, incumbent upon
us, makes up a great and important
part of the Christian moral and
religious life; and the reciprocal and
mutual duties betwixt Master and
Servant, arising from the relation
betwixt them, are very strong and
binding upon both; and when observed,
are of great use to human society.
What these duties are, is a thing
so plain and obvious, that none can
pretend ignorance of them, however
much they are neglected by the
generality of mankind; herein we are
instructed both by the laws of nature
and reason, . . .also very fully and
clearly enjoined us by divine
revelation, particularly in the
Epistles of the holy Apostles, Paul
and Peter. (Lord Dun's Friendly and
Familiar Advices 216-17)
The duties of servants and masters may indeed
have been as universally known to his contemporaries
as Lord Dun claims, but it is equally clear that late
twentieth-century readers know very little of the
mutual duties that bound together the domestic
f
I
hierarchy of the eighteenth century. While the |
literature of the era often features servants as j
I
characters, their literary status usually mirrors i
21
their social obscurity. Servants were near the bottom
of the social ladder. While a few rose into the
professional classes, fewer still left written records
of their rise. Much of what we know of eighteenth-
century servants must be inferred from ephemeral
literature: books and pamphlets complaining about
servants, proposing solutions to the servant problem,
defending servants, advising conduct for servants.
Before examining the complaints against servants and
the virtuous behavior recommended in conduct books, it
is necessary first to assemble an accurate notion of
the conditions of life for eighteenth-century
servants.
J. Jean Hecht's full-length study of eighteenth-
century servants in England asserts that domestic
servants as a class "would undoubtedly rank with the
largest" occupational groups of the era (1). The
demand for servants, he argues, reflects not only the
increased prosperity of the English economy,
especially the middle classes, during the eighteenth
century, but a shift in social attitude: "the medieval
dictum that an establishment ought to be no larger
than demanded by its master’s social status gave way
completely to the rule that it should be as extensive
# ^
as his fortune would permit" (2). The number of
servants in a family varied according to the family's
income, social status, and desire for display. Hecht
cites one contemporary author as stating that twenty
servants attended the "average large country family";
a later conduct book says that
The regular establishment of female
servants in a first rate family, are a
housekeeper, a cook, an under cook or
kitchen-maid, and skullery-maid, an
upper house-maid, and under house
maid, an upper and under nursery-maid,
a laundry-maid, and the lady's-maid.
This complement, of course, varies
according to the size of the family,
and the views and inclinations of the
employer. (The Female Servant's
Adviser 1)
Since, according to Hecht, half or nearly half of a
household's servants would be male, this "first rate"
establishment would have, as a rule of thumb, 18 to 2 0
servants. John Macdonald, a Scottish servant, writes
that his first employer, a wealthy landowner of £6000
a year and 20,000 acres, had eight upper or lady-
maids, four chamber-maids, two laundry-maids, two
dairy-maids, a plain-worker, first and second man-
cooks, a kitchen-maid, a butler, two footmen, a
coachman, sundry postillions and stable-helpers, and
eight gardeners— over thirty servants in all (40).3
But amongst more modest country gentlemen, "a staff of
about seven domestics seems to have been much more
23
usual" (Hecht 6). Farmers or small shop-keepers might
have only one overworked servant-maid. In Pamela. Mr.
B's Bedfordshire household comprises, we are told, the
steward Mr. Longman, the housekeeper Mrs. Jervis, the
butler Mr. Jonathan, the cook Jane, the coachman
Robin, the footmen John, Harry, Isaac and Benjamin,
the housemaids Rachel, Cicely and Hannah, the grooms
Richard and Roger, Arthur the gardener, the postilion
and his two assistants, and Tommy the scullion-boy,
besides Pamela herself, for a total of twenty. The
size of Mr. B's primary household makes it clear that
he is a very wealthy gentleman indeed.
Most servants were the children of farmers, or
were themselves the children of farmworkers and
laborers, although upper servants, such as lady's
maids and valets, were often sons and daughters of
respectable tradesmen (Hecht, 9, 16). Some, indeed,
were gentlemen and ladies born in poverty, who saw
service as a means of self-support. John Macdonald
claimed to be "a Cadet of the Family of Keppoch" whose
father, an unlucky supporter of the Young Pretender,
died at Culloden, leaving his family destitute
(Macdonald title page-3).
Seldom now did the sons of gentlemen
go into the service of some great lord
. . . By the eighteenth century the
24
servants were not often of gentle
birth, though they were frequently of
decent middle-class families, farmers'
sons and daughters or the children of
poor clergymen. The one exception was
the waiting-gentlewoman, who was
sometimes related to her employer.
The poorer gentry could make little
provision for daughters, and if they
did not marry or were widows in
reduced circumstances they might have
to earn their own bread. There were
two reputable professions open to
them; they could become governesses or
take a post as a waiting-gentlewoman.
(Bayne-Powell 134)
A person born to poverty was expected to be
pragmatic in facing the future:
As soon then as you come to years of
Discretion, your first business is to
consider the Condition and Fortune of
your Birth; you are seriously to
consider the narrowness of that
Portion God has allotted you, and with
what pains and travail your poor
Parents provide this; you see you are
not sent into the World to take your
Pleasure and Pastime therein, but you
are born to take Pains and Care, or
else you must ever suffer the straits
of Poverty, the reproach of Sloth, and
the Plagues of Nastiness and Ignorance
. . . (Lucas 9)
This goes beyond the contemptus mundi tradition of
strict Protestantism, identified elsewhere as
Augustinian Christianity, the tradition which asserts
that the human life is to be lived with an ever
present awareness of death and the afterlife.4 The
passage is not merely theological or moral; it is
25
political, in that it is explicitly aimed at young
people of the lower classes, and adjures them to
consider, with a maturity we of the twentieth century
associate more with the fourth decade of life than
with the second, their lot in life. For the poor,
writes Schwartz, "child labor was a donnee" (40).
Given this pragmatic aim, it is curious to note
that Richard Lucas exhorts servants to choose a
situation not for worldly gain, but for peace and
tranquility. Those seeking employment as servants—
the result of dispassionate analysis— should approach
the choice as if it were a clerical vocation: would-be
servants must first pray for guidance, consult
virtuous friends, consider their own capacity to
perform the job, and choose as if for a permanent
position (22-24). Needless to say, if this were
indeed the method by which most servants made their
choice, there would have been no need for such
instructions. But the mixture of practicality and
faith continues; servants are to choose a religious
family for whom to work:
First, for your Temporal Interest;
good men, if they are able, do
generally more than they promise;
wicked men much less: Good Christians
will look upon you as their Fellow-
Citizens, nay, Fellow-Servants, for
you have one Master; nay, what is
26
more, members of the same body, for
you have one Head Christ Jesus; and
therefore such will treat you with
Charity and Gentleness, and will as
heartily seek your Interest as their
own . . . (24-25)
Fezziwig and the Cheerybles notwithstanding, however,
"[t]he principal motives that sent members of these
different classes into service were the desire for
security and the desire to rise in the economic and
social scale" (Hecht 19).5 From begging in the
streets, John Macdonald rose to the position of
gentleman's gentleman. Some of the conduct books for
female servants state outright that a good servant can
land herself a good husband, "Sober, Honest, and
Discreet" (Woolley 6). Given this motive, rags-to-
riches tales such as Pamela and, in the Victorian age,
Dickens's novels, were understandably popular with the
lower classes from which their heroine and heroes
sprang.6
Although there are common denominators, there was
no standard or typical work experience for servants.
Contradictory accounts of servant life depend largely
on who is giving the account and the author's biases.
Compare these two opposing accounts of life as a
servant:
If it was a long day it was not a
strenuous one; beyond washing up and
27
cleaning silver [Dodsley, the footman
turned publisher] seems to have done
no manual work at all. Macdonald
appears also to have had, for the most
part, an easy time of it. Two hours'
real work seems to be the most he did
during the whole day, and he spent
much of his time making love to the
waiting-maids and getting "in liquor."
(Bayne-Powell 139)
[The gentry] don't consider what
constant labour that of a servant is,
every day in the year the same task is
to be performed, no holidays, no
vacations, except now and then leave
obtained, with difficulty, to see a
play, or to pay a visit to a friend,
or to a country man.
Besides the bodily labours which we
undergo, it is incredible to think
what a well disposed servant suffers
in his mind in the space of twenty or
thirty years, from pride, insolence,
moroseness, avarice, peevishness,
hastiness, meanness, &c. not to
mention the absurd messages, and long-
winded compliments he is to carry
every day, and the confounded lies he
is obliged to tell many tolerably
genteel family [sic]. (Grey 20)
Servant experience was of course affected by the
character of the employer; Lucas's portrait of the
master as fellow-servant stood at one end of a
continuum that ended in vicious and cruel oppressors.
But a more immediate concern to many servants was
their placement in the servant hierarchy:
The principal line of cleavage was
that which divided upper and lower
domestics. The former included those
servants whose work was executive and
supervisory, and those who possessed
special skills developed through long
and sometimes expensive training. The
latter category was composed of
servants whose activities were
controlled and directed, and whose
work was of a relatively unskilled,
manual variety.
Differences in living quarters, in
dress, in diet, in leisure time and in
a host of minor particulars signalized
this division; and some of the
differences were pronounced. Upper
menservants, for example, wore
ordinary clothes while their
subordinates wore livery. Again, in
large establishments, upper servants
dined together at the second table
while the lower servants sat at the
third. (Hecht 35)
Despite her ostensibly humble origins, Pamela is
1
clearly ranked with the upper servants, though she
doesn't yet receive regular wages (25, Letter 1). She
is on close terms with all the upper servants, with
whom she is a favorite; she rarely mentions the lower
servants by name, revealing her own unconscious class
snobbery; those she does name are usually referred to
patronizingly, by first name and possessive adjective
only: "John our footman" (26).
Male and female servants had separate
hierarchies. The male hierarchy began with the land
steward (the administrator and superintendant of large
estates), often a lawyer by training or a country
gentleman himself; the house steward, or domestic
administrator, much like the butler of Victorian and
29
Victorian and Edwardian England; the gentleman-in
waiting, or personal attendant, the masculine
equivalent of the lady's maid; and his equal in
prestige, the master of the horse. These last two
were gradually replaced by the valet de chambre and
the clerk of the stables. Beneath these upper-most
servants were the clerk of the kitchen, man-cook and
variations such as baker and confectioner, the butler
(in the eighteenth century merely the guardian of the
wine and silver, not the domestic tyrant of Upstairs.
Downstairs fame), the head gardener, and the groom of
the chambers, lowest of the male upper servants (Hecht
38-50; Second Table. 19-23).
Most of the male lower servants wore livery: the
coachman, footmen, porter, and gamekeeper. While
clearly a badge of servitude, as are today's uniforms,
livery could be nevertheless glamorous; two liveries
Macdonald wore as footman were "a scarlet jacket,
trimmed with silver” and "blue and scarlet, trimmed
with gold lace" (43, 70).8 Footmen were used not only
to wait at table and for public display on the back of
the coach, but for a protective escort during travel:
The requirements for the post of
footman were relatively simple. To
qualify a youth had to have a good
carriage and a good physique. The
lustier he appeared the greater his
suitability . . . (Hecht 55)
After learning to read and write, John Macdonald rose
from postilion to footman; after learning to dress
hair and attend a gentleman, he became a valet de
chambre, in some small households functioning as a
sort of house steward.9 At the bottom of the ladder
were young boys who acted as postilions (this was John
Macdonald's first job), yard boys, and pages.
The female hierarchy paralleled that of the male.
At the top, however, was the mistress's personal
attendant, or lady's maid. Like the gentleman's valet
de chambre, her duty was tending to the clothing and
personal appearance of her employer. Because she was
also in part a companion or confidant, the lady's maid
generally had more education and a higher class
background than the lower household maids:
A suitable education consisted of a
thorough acquaintance with the
niceties of social form, an ability to
read well aloud, a knowledge of the
French tongue, a familiarity with
French modes and customs, and a real
proficiency in the arts of the
hairdresser, milliner, and modiste.
Much of this was regularly acquired at
home or at boarding school; much was
often gained through self-instruction.
. . . [or] under the tutelage of
professional practitioners. (Hecht 61)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
31
Also like the valet, the lady's maid received as a
perquisite her employer's hand-me-down clothing,
either for sale or for her own wardrobe. Pamela
believes that her master intends to install her in "a
Waiting-maid's Place on his Sister Lady Pavers's own
Person," when he gives her a new wardrobe of the late
Lady B's clothing (31-2, Letter 7). Indeed, Mr. B
refers to Pamela as "my Mother's Waiting-maid" (57,
Letter 23). The housekeeper, or female counterpart of
the house steward, ranked below the lady's maid. If
the household employed a steward, the housekeeper
would supervise only the female domestics; this
arrangement is reflected in the Bedfordshire estate,
where Mrs. Jervis clearly reigns over all the maids
(Hecht 63). The female cook, lowest of the upper
servants, was considered inferior to male cooks, just
as the housekeeper was ranked beneath a male steward.
The lower female servants included the
chambermaid, who cared for the bedrooms of the family,
the housemaid, maid of all work, laundry maid, and
dairy maid. Maids, according to Bayne-Powell, "rose,
as a matter of course, at five o'clock every morning
. . ." (170). Unlike their counterpart footmen,
however, they did not wear livery, but "were allowed
generally to wear what they pleased"— although, as
32
will be discussed below, "[t]here were complaints that
servants dressed much too finely ..." (Bayne-Powell
145). Least of all in importance was the scullery
maid, who assisted in the kitchen and pantry doing the
dirty work of scrubbing and cleaning (Hecht 66-69). A
lower-class servant girl would usually begin as a
scullery maid or kitchen assistant, and work her way
up to housemaid and chamber-maid; but without either
birth or education, her chances of becoming a lady's
maid were slight.
Without going into great detail about the duties
of each of the many servant positions, it is clear
that servant work was arduous. For example, consider
the work involved simply in obtaining water with which
to wash. Unless a house was piped for water— only the
principal houses of London and other large cities had
water pipes— it was brought in by hand in buckets,
probably by the scullery-maid or yard boy (Bayne-
Powell 118). If the master or mistress wished to
bathe, water was brought in a can to the bedchamber;
however, between the difficulty of transporting
bathwater and the popular superstition that bathing
was unhealthy, people even of the upper classes seldom
bathed (Bayne-Powell 120; Schwartz 106). Laundering
clothes, writes Bayne-Powell,
was a laborious affair. In some
houses it was done once in 4 or 5
weeks, in others once a quarter, and
some people had a great wash, a
bucking they called it, thrice a year.
. . . all the washing was usually
wrung out by hand. It was customary
in most houses, great and small, to do
the washing and ironing at home. Rich
people kept laundry-maids, people of
moderate means hired washerwomen by
the day, the poor washed as they could
and when they felt inclined. (121)
In many servant conduct books, the bulk of the volume
is taken up by "receipts'* for cleaning different
fabrics, household utensils, plate, fire-irons, wood
paneling and furniture, and so forth.10 The scarcity
of household water meant that cleaning house and
bathing were intimately connected:
[T]here was the almost continuous
fight against the lesser vermin, which
went on in most respectable
households. All bedsteads were taken
to pieces and washed every year,
floors were scoured, rue was sprinkled
about, but unless all clothing and
house-linen was changed when it became
at all soiled the place and even the
person became infested. (Bayne-Powell
122)
Floors in the house were scrubbed weekly; carpets were
costly, and even in wealthy households were reserved
for best rooms, "children and servants having nothing
but bare boards or rushes, or straw in winter" (39).
What is remarkable, given the difficulty involved, is
34
that most respectable houses were kept so clean
(Bayne-Powell 123-24).11
Domestic servants naturally lived in the family's
house, but they did without many of the luxuries they
saw around them. Generally, however, servants were
well fed, usually with good plain food and beer. The
fact that "[t]he poor subsisted largely on bread,
cheese, tea, and beer . . . [with] an occasional bit
of meat" may explain one of the advantages of domestic
service: a plentiful and more substantial diet
(Schwartz 97). The English were notorious for their
consumption of meats, especially beef (Schwartz 99).
Fruit and raw vegetables were viewed with suspicion,
although the potato was a new delicacy (Bayne-Powell
72, 74). A number of conduct books include amongst
their "receipts" directions for making soups,
puddings, fish, poultry and meat dishes, breads,
jellies, cakes, and sauces. Water was viewed askance,
not because of concerns about sanitation, but because
it "was considered to be a poor, thin fluid with no
merit in it at all" (Bayne-Powell 86). Female upper
servants were expected to be able to put up cordials
and homemade wines as well as pickles and preserves.
Certain drinks, such as shrub, punch, bishop and
35
negus, would be drunk by all classes, but beer (rather
than wine) was the common drink for ordinary people.
No one can have read much eighteenth-century
literature without noticing that tea was a highly
controversial drink, occupying the same place in
public debate as coffee in the late twentieth century.
(It seems odd to note that coffee provoked
comparatively little controversy in the 1700s.) Tea
was an enormously expensive addiction; even wealthy
sippers kept it in locked tea caddies, understandably,
given the high import duty; five shillings per pound
as of 1741 (Bayne-Powell 93, 94; Schwartz 106).
Schwartz cites a source who claims that "at the end of
the century a laborer whose family income was only £4 0
a year would spend £2 just for tea"— that is, 5% of
the family's annual income (48). Servants were
allowed tea as part of their board; a common
perquisite of cooks was to sell used tea leaves.
Boasts Macdonald of a luxurious household, "We had
always tea and sugar allowed us" (115).
But, as Bayne-Powell observes, "[i]f svts in good
houses ate well their accommodation was often very
bad. In many establishments the maids slept together
in one large attic at the top of the house. . . . In
gentlemen's houses the footmen often slept where they
36
I
could, in a pantry or washhouse, or in a passage on a
i
palliasse or on straw" (145). Macdonald mentions that j
at the Earl of Cranford's estate, none of the men
servants slept within the house, but in "an office j
adjoining," and Pamela writes that "the Men lie in the 1
Out-houses" (Macdonald 73; Pamela 67, Letter 25). .
Architecture and interior design were for the first
time undergoing a shift from emphasizing sheer
functionality or ostentation to focusing on human
comfort.12 Comfort, however, was not wasted on
servants. The window tax meant that servants'
bedrooms were not only small, but dark, even in !
otherwise airy, spacious houses (Bayne-Powell 10). As j
the century progressed, however, and houses had more
rooms, it became more common for only two or three
people to share a bedroom, instead of all the
maidservants or all the daughters of the family
sleeping in one room (Bayne-Powell 33). Among the
many evidences that Pamela has been singled out for
special treatment by Lady B is the fact that she has
i
l
her own room, which she forsakes to share a room with i
I
Mrs. Jervis only when her master first makes advances
(36, Letter 12).
Wages for servants seem constantly to have been j
I
debated in the popular press. It is difficult to
37
reconstruct the economy of two centuries ago; but we
are told that a man with £1500 annually was considered
rich, and that early in the century, country gentlemen
could live on £200 (Bayne-Powell 24). To arrive at a
modern equivalent, Schwartz recommends Mary Hyde's
system of multiplying by twenty, then suggests
doubling figures "to correct for inflation" (44-5).
This would mean that a wealthy man would have, in
today's economy, an income of £60,000 per annum, or
around $100,000 — affluent, indeed, but hardly enough
of a fortune to qualify him for an interview on
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Servants* wages
were pitifully low, even relatively speaking. Oliver
Grey says that a footman earned seven or eight pounds
in 1760 (18). Country dairy-maids and city chamber
maids earned £6-8 a year in 1724 (Defoe, Great Law
86). A good butler, says Schwartz, could command £2 0
a year, the house steward £100, the clerk of the
kitchen £60, the housekeeper £28. Among the lower
servants, a footman could expect £8 and a maid £4 (51-
2). The range of servant salaries, then, was from
about $270 to $6700 in present-day figures.
Nevertheless, the constant complaint was that servants
were too expensive and too demanding. Defoe, for
example, asserts that "we find the Wages of almost all
sorts of Servants doubled, and of some trebled"— and
besides that, all they do is spend their money getting
drunk (14). Under Pitt, a tax on servants was imposed
which "must have brought the Government a large sum,
so numerous were they in eighteenth-century England;
£2 10s. was charged on a man-servant and 10s. for a
maid" (Bayne-Powell 185). This increase in expense
must surely have further irritated masters who already
saw themselves as the victims of inflation.
Some writers sought to defend the income of
servants, or to plead for an increase in wages. The
author of A Proposal for the Amendment and
Encouragement of Servants presents a plaintive view of
the case;
In one Respect Servants are worse
off than most other People: For, in
most Situations of Life, People have
an Opportunity of enlarging their
Dealings and their Gains by Diligence
and Friends: Whereas a Servant gets no
more the ninth or tenth Year than he
does the first: And it is truly said,
"That Service is no Inheritance," and,
indeed, very seldom procures any:
Which puts them upon unwarrantable
Methods of filling their Pockets as
soon as they can. (12)
It is unclear, however, whether his claim that
servants receive no increase in wages is true; perhaps
this applied only to a servant who remained in the
same rank year after year. The rise of a servant is
39
carefully detailed in Macdonald's memoirs: at the age
of nine, he was hired as a postillion for £2 a year,
with clothes and one-third of the vails. At 16,
employed by the Earl of Cranford as a coachman, he
received £5 annually. Later on, he works for Major
Libbelier for 14 shillings a week (this is the two-
hours-a-day job that caught Bayne-Powell's eye). In
his position as de facto major-domo with Mr. Ferguson,
he received 2 0 guineas a year, with two suits of
clothes provided (no livery).
Another sympathizer, stung to a defense of
servants by a proposal to restore servants1 wages to
the rate of pay on the statute books— which dated back
to the time of Queen Elizabeth— argued that even in
the boondocks, such as Yorkshire and Wales, wages were
higher than in the sixteenth century (The Servant's
Plea). The proposal under consideration, he fumes,
would reduce wages for the "Best Woman Servant" to no
more than £3 a year (3). Moreover, he asserts, such a
system does not reward the servant whose skills
improve:
As for Instance, suppose a Girl of
twelve Years of age Should by reason
of her Parents being dead or reduced,
be obliged to go to Service to do what
she is capable of, as going of Errands
or the like, and be reckoned worth no
more than her Victuals, and perhaps
40
the Parish find her Clothes, and she
is put out at this rate for four
Years; will it follow, that when these
four Years are expired, and she become
sixteen Years of age, she must still
work for Victuals only, and must not
refuse to be retained, or make better
Conditions for herself, according to
her greater Merit and being capable of
undertaking a greater Charge, as she
advanceth in Years and Experience? or
must this her proposing to advance her
Wages in proportion to their Merit be
deemed extorting Illegal Wages, and
bring her liable to the House of
Correction or farther Punishment. &c.
At this rate all Improvements are
destroy'd, every thing must remain in
Statu quo; and in short, if the Parish
once found her Clothes, they must find
her Clothes as long as she lives. (5-
6)
He later argues that wages should rise proportionate
to the higher cost of living: "Servants or Labourers
ought to have as many Shillings wages now as they had
Pence then" (14).
One particular aspect of servants * wages that
infuriated many critics was vails, or tips given to
servants by visitors to a household. Guests who
arrived either for dinner or for a month were expected
to tip domestic servants whether they received any
particular service or not; and if they failed to tip,
it was certain they would never again receive good
service in that house. Some reviled vails as a system
of legal extortion; but others defended it. The
41
author of The Sentiments and Advice of Thomas Trueman.
A Virtuous and Understanding Footman points out that
vails make up for low wages. This viewpoint is echoed
by Oliver Grey:
The excellent author of my motto has
told us very seriously that some
advantages are absolutely necessary;
besides the wages stipulated, in order
to make our old age comfortable; very
often are we reproached with want of
prudence in not making a provision for
that helpless state. How is that to
be done? Not from our wages only,
that is impossible. It must arise
from our vails . . . (18)
This is the same argument used today to justify tips
to such underpaid occupations as waiting table in
restaurants.
However, faithful servants had one great
advantage in this economic system: job security. If
they managed to remain in the same family for a number
of years, they were "seldom discharged except for some
glaring offence. When they became too old to work
they were either pensioned or . . . lived on in the
house . . ." (Bayne-Powell 148). But in a century of
sometimes volatile economic fluctuation, the security
of the master could jeopardize that of the servant?
Oliver Grey tells a sad tale of investing his life's
savings with a master who goes bankrupt, and
calculates that to provide for old age, a servant must
42
’ ’save forty shillings every year of his life" (15-19) .
Servants who outlived solvent employers would,
however, usually benefit: "Sometimes a year's wages
were left to all the servants, and this was usually
multiplied by the number of years that they had passed
in their present situation" (Bayne-Powell 148).
Mourning was also provided. In Pamela. Mr. B provides
"Mourning and a Year's Wages to all my Lady's
Servants" on her death (Letter I, 25).
Although most families of means employed a number
of servants, and although— in theory, at least— the
hierarchy of family and servants was set firmly in
place, judging from the number and bitterness of
complaints about servants, the system seems not to
have worked smoothly. Even a writer otherwise
sympathetic to servants and their low position admits
that his scheme to increase wages "would not cure the
common People of their Vices (and what Scheme is there
that would?)" fA Proposal for the Amendment and
Encouragement of Servants 13). Servants were openly
spoken of as being untrustworthy, immoral, or
downright vicious. Such outspoken resentment of
domestic servants was a particularly unpleasant part
of the environment within which they worked. Public
discourse on the topic, in the form of pamphlet
43
debate, presented criticisms of servants, criticisms
and advice aimed at masters, and apologies for
servants.
One of the fiercest attacks on servants is
Defoe's Great Law of Subordination, written in the
persona of a French visitor to England, which the
author begins by citing a proverb. England has been
known to be the Hell of horses, the Purgatory of
servants, and the Paradise of women (although "the
good Treatment of Wives in England is not such, as may
be much boasted of at present"), but now "nothing is
more certain, than that as the Women's Case is made
worse by the change of their Usage among us, so that
of the Servants is infinitely varied the other Way
. . ." (3, 7). In fact, he asserts, "we should say,
it is the Purgatory of Wives and the Paradise of
Servants . . ." (7).
Defoe uses any number of specific examples of bad
servants to illustrate "the horrible degeneracy of the
meaner sort of Servants, and the mischiefs which this
Nation suffers upon that Account" (11-12). This
equation between servant behavior and national
security is highly typical of the critiques of
servants published in the eighteenth century; not only
are the ill effects of specific behaviors targeted
44
(such as loss of property by wasteful servants), but
ill effects in larger spheres are considered. Damage
to the national economy, harm to the sinning servant's
soul, indeed, the upending of God's holy ordinance of
social rank are all threatened by bad servants.
Reading such assertions, it is difficult to avoid
seeing servants as keystones in the creation, so very
• , 1 O
much seems to depend upon their behavior.
Complaints against servants fall into four major
categories: their insolent behavior, their dishonesty,
their high wages, and (partly as a result of the
aforegoing) their constant encroachment upon the
privileges of the upper classes.
For Defoe's narrator, insolence has many
ramifications: "the Behaviour of these People, their
Sauciness, Drunkenness, and abusive Language on the
side of the Men-Servants; the gaiety, fine Cloaths,
Laces, Hoops, etc. of the Maid-Servants, nay, even to
Patches and Paint, are hardly to be describ'd" (15).
He sees such bad behavior as a specifically English
problem:
. . . how happy are you in France in
this Particular, tho' in many other
[sic] you do not come up to the
English, as in the solid Security of
Property, and of Religion, &c. but in
this you out-do England indeed; for
your Servants are indeed, Servants; a
45
French Footman, if he was to write to
his Master, might well subscribe, your
Humble Servant. even in the literal
Sence of it, for your Servants are
Humble, and you keep them so; they are
taught a due Subordination as their
Introduction, and you hold them to it,
and I am sure France is in the right
of it.
But here there is no such thing as
a good Servant, in the true Sence of
the Word . . . (16) .
The problem, Defoe argues, began with the bad example
of the Stuart court, which made swearing and drinking
fashionable. Because they spend their leisure time
getting drunk, servants have become vicious and
uppity, no longer exhibiting the humble behavior
appropriate to their station. He singles out footmen:
The very Name of Footman intimates,
That they are bred at the Foot of
their Master; their Business is to
clean his Shoes, and to be always
ready at his Foot, that is to say, for
the most servile Employment; their
Post is to go or ride behind, and they
ought not to come into the Master1s
Presence, but with Hat in Hand, bare
headed, and with all the Tokens of an
entire Submission: This ever was the
Usage, and is still in our Country
[France], and ought to be in every
Country: But I can assure you, the
Case is quite alter'd in England, and
tho' the Carriage of a Footman is
seemingly submissive . . . They are
now drunken, sawcy, unmannerly,
negligent; not only above Correction,
but even above Reproof; . . . . (191)
According to Defoe, such insolence characterizes even
the "honest" servants (174). But they are not
entirely to be blamed; once again, Defoe finds fault
with the upper classes for setting a bad example. To
illustrate his point, he interpolates what amounts to
a short story, the tale of a servant named William,
into his text.
The narrator's tale of William begins with a spat
between the narrator and his neighbor, whose servant
"had let some Horses break into my Ground"
deliberately. The suspicious narrator had confirmed
the event by setting a spy (William) to watch the
neighbor's servant (23). When the narrator makes the
accusation, the neighbor denies any wrongdoing, and so
both servants are brought in for a hearing:
. . . the two Servants were call'd in,
and heard, and my Man testify'd as
above; his Servant impudently deny'd
it, and my Man as positively affirm'd
it; but with this, he [the Neighbour]
flies out in the same Rage at my Man,
as he was in before at me, and then it
was Dam me, I won't believe a Word you
say, you are a lying Dog, you see my
Man denies it; my Servant then offer'd
to go before a Justice, and swear it,
then he flew out again, you swear it!
you are a Rascal, G— Dam me, I won't
believe your Oath, no more than your
Word, and there he went storming, and
swearing, and rageing about the House,
and calling my Man a thousand Dogs and
Villains, and between every two or
three Words, was the imprecation upon
himself of G— Dam me. (25)
Poor William is angry at having his reputation for
honesty questioned, especially in such insulting
terms. He insists that he will "do himself Justice"
(27). The narrator is horrified:
. . . why you Fool you, savs I. what
do you mean by doing your self
Justice? you don't pretend to put
yourself upon an equal Foot with this
Gentleman, and go and demand
Satisfaction of him, do you? No Sir,
savs he. I know myself better than
that, too; but is there no way that a
poor Servant may take to do himself
Justice, when he is injur'd, but
presently to Fight with his
Superiours? (27-28)
Interestingly, this poignant question is never
answered by Defoe, though other authors answer in the
affirmative; there is indeed no way for a poor servant
to do himself justice. The Great Law of Subordination
remains one of Defoe's ambiguous texts: his persona
passionately asserts the guilt of servants, then turns
around and blames bad masters; he gives us the story
of William, and leaves its pathos unresolved. No
adequate reply, not even the use of platitudes about
obedience and humility, is made to William, who from
this moment on storms down the road to ruin,
eventually losing his situation by becoming obsessed
with seeking justice.
An anonymous coachman, the author of A Treatise
on the Use and Abuse of The Second. Commonly Called.
The Steward’s Table, targets upper servants
exclusively, claiming that they exploit both their
employers and the lower servants. Unfortunately, most
hiring and firing is done by upper servants, not by
masters and mistresses; so lower servants learn to
whom they must pay court:
. . . [upper servants] endeavour to
imprint the strongest Idea they
possibly can of their own Consequence
and Authority on the Minds of every
menial Servant, which too commonly has
such an Effect, that . . . they care
but little for my Lord, or Sir Paul;
for they well know, that their good
Living in their present Place, or
Character to another, depends for the
Generality upon the former Gentlemen,
not their Lords or Masters. (6)
The coachman portrays himself as the victim of such
unscrupulous upper servants, who jealously get rid of
popular subordinates. He explains how, for example,
upper servants plot amongst themselves to remove a
favorite coachman: first the employers are sounded to
find how high an opinion they have of the unfortunate
coachman. If he is well thought of, the valet begins
a campaign of innuendo. If, however, the lady of the
household values the coachman for keeping her and her
children safe,
49
then the House-keeper and Lady's Woman
go to Work; the First complains that
the Coachman is disorderly in the
House, finds fault with the Provision,
and will never let the Maid-Servants
alone; but is always talking
obscenely, and breeding Disturbances:
In short, that he is not fit to live
in a civilized Family. . . . my Lady's
Woman, repeats the foregoing
Accusation, with this Addition, that
she is informed, though the Coachman
is a married Man; yet he makes a
common Practice of having women lie
over the Stable . . . (10)
The "servant problem," then, is due not to the
immorality of lower servants, or to the bad example of
masters, but to the malice of upper servants, whose
"grand Concern is to mimic their Superiors" (14) .
Perhaps the most destructive result is that toadies
get good characters from the steward or housekeeper,
while good and faithful servants who will not grovel
get turned off on trumped-up charges. The coachman
proposes a number of solutions, mostly aimed at
reminding upper servants that they are indeed but
servants.
A second great complaint against servants is
their dishonesty. Because of their innate tendency to
behave badly, servants who are not given strict
guidance and close supervision will just naturally
steal:
. . . by the Pride and Insolence,
which Servants in general are now
arriv'd to . . . when once Servants
are brought to contemn the Persons and
Authority of their Masters, or
Mistresses, or Employers, they soon
come to despise their Interests; and
at last to break into their Property;
and thus they become Thieves, and in a
manner insensible, and by the meer
Consequence of the Thing. (Defoe,
Great Law 210-11)
Interestingly, Defoe's persona doesn't even consider
the possibility that this progression, from pride to
rebellion to theft, is anything but inevitable; the
eventual dishonesty of servants will occur, he
asserts, by "the meer Consequence of the Thing," once
they have fallen to pride and insolence.14 Servants
as a class are frequently regarded by their critics as
inherently immoral, as members of minority racial
groups are often regarded in our century.
Interestingly, in these conduct books, such slurs are
never directed at the poor as an economic class, but
only at servants as an occupational group.
In his advice to his son, an apprentice, Sir John
Barnard warns him against letting servants get out of
hand; they are "but too frequently domestick Enemies,
whose Views, Designs, and Inclinations are opposite to
yours; Hating your authority, despising your Person,
and watching every Opportunity to injure you, even to
51
gratify their Malice . . . you will find all their
little Cunning, and Dexterity will be employ'd to
cheat and impose upon you . . . " (57).
Some authors believe that servants are thieves,
not only of property, but of discourse; employers are
warned not to speak freely in front of servants, "for
those Gentry seldom put the best Construction on what
they hear, or lessen it in the telling" (The Lady1s
Preceptor 54). The sarcastic use of "Gentry" for
servants reveals the degree of prejudice common
amongst such critics. Similarly, servants must never
be trusted with family secrets;
Few Friends are to be trusted with
Secrets. Servants never, if 'tis
possible to be avoided: For, once at
their Mercy, they grow insolent, and
make no Difficulty to withold [sic]
their Service, when they know you dare
not exact it. And what a lamentable
Figure must that Family make where
Subordination is revers'd, and the
Master, instead of commanding, is
forc'd to obey? (Wilkes 59)
Clearly, servants posed a significant threat to their
employers: the fear of being made to look ridiculous.
A servant could, of course, be fired from a position,
and was thus at the mercy of the master; but as long
as a servant was employed, the family was at the mercy
of the servant, who was suspected always to be seeking
revenge against the system that made him or her
subordinate. The bitterness of many attacks on
servants must surely have been caused by the fears of
the upper classes.
Besides their bad behavior and dishonesty,
servants were criticized for being greedy. Wages were
outrageous, in the eyes of many employers. Defoe
thought that high wages had ruined English servants—
even the good ones:
The general Complaint of the
badness of Servants, make those few
that are good for any-thing, so
valuable, that Masters and Mistresses
think they can never do too much to
encourage them; so they level
themselves to them in their
Intimacies, load them with Gifts, with
Cloaths, and other Advantages, and the
mechanick Spirit not able to make a
right Judgment of things, judges
presently in his own Favour; namely.
that his own Merit has procur'd him
all that; this exalts him in his own
Opinion, and, in a Word, ruins him;
for Pride and a good Servant, are as
inconsistent, as Darkness with Light:
Thus the few good Servants that come
upon the Stage of the World, are
ruin'd and spoil'd, and that very
Bounty which is the Reward of their
early good-Behaviour, and should be
the Encouragement of their Diligence
and Humility, makes them unsufferable;
makes them familiar, arrogant, proud,
impertinent, and at last, impudent:
. . . (138)
Complaints about servant wages were serious enough to
inspire proposals to impose legal limits. The author
of The Servant's Plea passionately opposes a movement
53
to reinstate a wage scale from the time of Queen
Elizabeth, which would, for example, have lowered
wages for the "Best Woman Servant" (i.e., the lady's
maid) to no more than £3 a year— in other words,
lowering 1732 wages to the economic standard of 1563.
But the thorn in the side of many writers was not
so much high wages as the system of vails. "Thomas
Trueman," the purported author of a pamphlet, writes
his brother that in Scotland, vails-giving has been
banned:
The reasons they assign are, FIRST,
That the Custom is destructive of the
morals of the Servants. SECONDLY,
That it is a discredit to the police
Tsicl of their Kingdom. THIRDLY, That
it is an interruption to Hospitality:
and LASTLY, That it is a Tax upon the
domestic intercourse of friends. If,
my dear Brother, these are good
reasons in Scotland, do you think they
will be found bad ones in England? (4)
Trueman argues that, besides being unpredictable and
therefore less desirable than actual wages, vails are
a "beggarly Custom" that in effect allows servants to
"pick the pockets of [their] Master's friends" (7-8).
Such an attitude seems far too altruistic to have been
written by one of the impoverished sufferers
characterized by Oliver Grey, to whom, he begs,
"[s]urely some little advantages, besides wages, are
due" (20). No doubt "Thomas Trueman" was "A Virtuous
and Understanding Footman" only in some master's
fantasies.
The author of A Proposal for the Amendment and
Encouragement of Servants combines economic and
authoritarian solutions to "the mischievous Effects of
. . . Idleness and Immorality" among servants; he
proposes a sort of merit system to encourage good
servants; "Not such an Encouragement as shall increase
their Pride and Laziness; but such only as shall
reward the Diligent and the Faithful" (2-3). Masters
who become subscribers to his plan will pay funds into
a pool; servants who remain in the same place for
several years will be paid bonuses out of the pool.
Such a system, the author believes, will go a long way
towards correcting wicked servants:
If, in Objection to this whole
Design, it should be said, that
Servants have already but too much
Encouragement, which is the great
Reason of their Idleness and
Insolence, the Argument is admitted to
be true. But the Encouragements they
at present receive are so equally
divided among the Good and the Bad (if
not most to the latter) that the
Purpose is thereby very little
answered: And this renders them . . .
careless how they behave in Service.
(12)
The author ends by denying that his system is proposed
out of any tenderness for servants, but for good sound
55
economic reasons: "You hear frequent Complaints of the
Greediness of Servants, and the exorbitant Wages they
are apt to demand. Now, it seems very probable, that
a Proposal of this Nature would make a great
Alteration in that Particular: It would render
Servants more modest in their Demands . . ." (19).
All these complaints about the character and cost
of servants were merely parts of a greater system of
reproach: the accusation that servants, through their
pride and insolence, through their bad conduct and
desire to rise, were in fact blurring class lines,
calling into question God's plan for human society.
No doubt pious writers concerned themselves with the
theological implications of such rebellion; but others
feared social revolution:
. . . as the Commons, in another Case,
may be said to be gotten above the
Lords, so the Canaille of this Nation
impose Laws upon their Superiours, and
begin not only to be troublesome, but
in time, may be dangerous; in a word,
Order is inverted, Subordination
ceases, and the World seems to stand
with the Bottom upward. (Defoe, Great
Law 17)
With Defoe, of course, one can never accept
conservatism at face value; but even if such passages
are to be taken as satire, the satire only works in a
context of a conservatism that would find such
56
statements reasonable. Clearly, the psychological as
well as the material comfort of the ruling classes
required that servants stay in their places.15
Defoe's warnings against domestics at time approach
apocalyptic fervor: "it is already true, in a great
Measure, that in England the Poor govern, and the Rich
submit ..." (105).
The one aspect of this muddling of the Great
Chain of Being that seems to have caused the greatest
anxiety amongst eighteenth-century writers on servants
was their inability to know at a glance who was
servant and who the master:
. . . it is now become frequent in
middling Families, that the
Chambermaids have better Laces, and
finer Silks than the Mistresses, and
it is not easie to know the Servants
from the Daughters of a Family; . . .
[There is] a Gentleman in a visit
lately at a House of good Fashion, who
being recommended to one of the
Gentleman's Daughters, mistook the
Chambermaid for her who was design'd
for his Mistress, and unhappily
stepping up to her, saluted her first,
which Misfortune cost him the loss of
his Mistress, and the impudent Wench
the loss of her Place. (Defoe, Great
Law 284)
It doesn't seem to have occurred to anyone that the
maid was only wearing the clothes she had been given
by her employers!16 The author of The Second Table
relates a similar tale: "I have seen many a Gentleman,
57
who had Occasion to apply to Noblemen on-Business, to
whose Persons they were intire Strangers, blush, when
they found they had given the Title due to the Lord to
his Valet, who has had Impudence enough not to
undeceive them, in Hopes to be acquainted with what
they came about . . . for these Creatures (as I said
before) imitate their Superiors in every Point of
Dress, even to the most expensive Lace and Ruffles
. . ." (17-18). The coachman’s solution is to force
all servants— including his enemies, the upper
servants— to wear livery, or some sort of badge of
rank:
As for Instance; let a Rope, I won't
advise whether it shall be made of
Hemp or Silk, be fixed round the Neck
of the French Valet, at the end of
which, let there be fastened a Pair of
Curling-Tongs, pendent to his Stomach;
then, whoever meets him will know his
Employ: A Kitchen Knife will become
the French Cook better than a Sword;
and let it hang near his Heart, and
rather than he should not be
distinguished, I will give my Consent
to have it stuck into it; there to
remain, 'till any of the Country acts
honestly. (19)
And so on, through the various ranks of the upper
servants. Clearly, the injured coachman is venting
his spleen, both nationalistic and personal, but his
proposal that all servants dress in livery was not
unique. Defoe's narrator also favors livery for all
servants, but some, such as Jonas Hanway, favor a
moralistic approach to persuasion: "young women in
service aspire to dress too much like their
mistresses, which gives them a wrong turn. If thy
mistress should give thee any of her own cloaths,
consider what is proper for thee to wear, and in what
shape; and what to sell" (163).17
For some writers, implicit in the bad servant was
bad guidance, or a lack of guidance, from the master.
Grey states that he wishes to "observ[e] upon the
weaknesses, inadvertencies, and misconduct of masters,
which have been a fatal source of mischief to their
dependants" (3).18 "[A] Fool-Master always makes a
Rogue-Servant," writes Defoe (265). In fact,
according to Defoe's persona, the increase in bad
servants is directly attributable to "the unseasonable
Lenity, Kindness, and Tenderness" of the upper
classes, who, "I must acknowledge, know not how to be
Masters" (258). The narrator tells of disguising
himself as a servant to get the low-down on servant
insolence from a footman named Jack:
And this, savs I. is the true
Picture of you Servants, is it?
Yes, indeed, says he. it is so all
over the Nation, and will be so; while
Masters act without the Authority of
Masters, Servants will never shew the
59
Submission and Obedience of their
Place. (266)
Defoe concludes his argument with an appeal to
employers; if they will be masters and mistresses,
their servants will be servants again (292). In other
words, it is up to the gods of the domestic world to
restore heavenly order to the chain of being. This is
logically consistent; if it were up to the servants to
restore order, the arrangement of that order would
thereby be undermined.
Some writers join Defoe's persona in finding
fault with too-kind masters. The problem with
servants is that masters aren't strict enough. Such
writers warn employers against familiarity with their
domestics:
Tho' I would have you treat your
Servants as your Fellow-Creatures,
however humble their Lot, I caution
you to avoid all Approaches to an
indecent Familiarity with them: For,
to a Proverb, 'tis accompany'd with
Contempt, and contempt never fails to
break the Neck of Obedience: Those
Servants, that are not kept under a
proper Subjection, being apter to
dispute, than obey: Which, if you
would preserve your Authority, you are
not to permit even in the best. . . .
[T]his is certain, the capricious
Tyrant is better obey'd, than the Man
of Gentleness, and Forbearance, who
refines too much on the Dictates of
his own Compassion .... (Wilkes 58-
59)
60
The Reverend Mr. Wilkes sounds unfortunately like Jane
Austen's Mr. Collins, who recommends that Mr. Bennet
forgive his daughter like a Christian, but never admit
her in his sight again; masters should treat servants
as "fellow-creatures," but keep them under a proper
subjection. Another clergyman, Henry George Watkins,
reminds young women that "It is by maintaining your
station, that your ability to do good is to be
maintained. . . . I would caution young persons who
are housekeepers, not to makes themselves the
familiars of their servants" (25). Employers must at
all costs retain their authority by maintaining
distance. "Are you then the mistress of a family?"
asks Thomas Gisbourne. "Attempt not to transfer your
occupation to a favourite maid . . . To confide
implicitly in servants, is the way to render them
undeserving of confidence" (272). Familiarity was
clearly the upper-class counterpart of servant pride;
it was a subversive act that threatened the social
hierarchy by undermining proper authority.
There were, however, some humanitarians who
argued that kindness to servants was not only
virtuous, but practical, as the most likely approach
to foster obedience. William Fleetwood, Bishop of
Ely, devotes one of his 16 discourses on relative
61
duties to the duties which masters owe to servants.
He takes as his text Colossians iv:l, "Masters, give
unto your Servants that which is just and equal,
knowing that ye also have a Master in Heaven" (311).
After discussing the ways a master may be unjust
(i.e., by withholding proper training from a servant,
or denying him his wages), he continues to expound the
biblical verse: masters should give servants "that
which is equal. i.e. to deal fairly, honestly, and
kindly with them, to give them that which is their due
in Reason and Conscience, although they have not
formally contracted for it . . ." (319-320):
But by Equal is also to be
understood such Usage and Treatment as
is fair, good natur'd, and human; to
make their Lives as easy as we can,
consistently with the Performance of
their Duty, and our Business; and
therefore not to pursue them with
perpetual Contumely and Reproach, nor
use them as we do Beasts of Burthen.
It is one of the worst ways in the
World of shewing our Superiority, by
giving ill Language, and Words that
become no body to receive. The
Condition of Servitude is of it self
grievous enough, without the
additional Evil of being, on all
Occasions, treated with Contempt and
Scorn . . .
To this comfort of good Words, must
also be added good Usage; Masters must
not be overrigorous in their
Punishments, when Servants are faulty,
but should inflict them with
Deliberation, good Intention, and
Compassion. (322-23)
62
In other words, treat thy servant as thyself, a
concept which, for all its biblical precedent, seems
to be oddly rare in eighteenth-century discourse about
servants. Fleetwood also instructs masters to care
for employees both sick and well; to give them good
advice and set a good example; to afford them
"opportunities of serving God, both at home and
abroad"; to encourage their virtue and diligence;
"and, in a word, to make them virtuous and religious"
(323-24). Masters, as the heads of families, are in
part responsible for the souls of their servants.
The Lady1s Preceptor advocates a similarly gentle
use of servants, reminding mistresses that harsh
treatment will backfire; "lay it down for a Maxim,
never to treat [servants] in an imperious Manner, or
with an Air of Contempt, which will only procure you
Hate from them instead of Submission and Respect.
. . . never be the Cause of their Dismission, unless
all gentler Methods fail" (60). This is certainly
consistent with the feminine ideal of quiet modesty
and patience, and in fact brings to mind Pamela's
mistress, Lady B, a model of the charitable Christian
lady. Watkins himself, who couched his caution
against familiarity in terms of retaining the power to
do good, outlines a system of Christian discipline for
63
household management: the master and mistress should
observe the Sabbath, set a just example in behavior,
regularly and openly practice family religion
(including prayer), pay fair wages, and protect female
servants from insult by never sending them on errands
at night.
Despite his warning that servants can be by their
nature "domestick Enemies," Barnard warns his son not
to "oppress" his servants; don't be the "Agressor," he
cautions, but "behave to them with Mildness and
Affability; not passionately abusing them, or
peevishly cavilling with them, to gratify your own
splentick Humour; but giving Orders with Decency, and
reprehending Faults with Temper" (60). On the
contrary, "rather exceed your Contract with them, than
make the least Abatement . . . indulge them, now and
then, in certain Hours of Recreation . . . if they
have any peculiar whims in their Devotions, leave
their Consciences free" (61). In a society in which
the principle of cuius natio. eius reliaio had
officially ended, such tolerance of sects may seem
natural, but it was still typical for all members of a
family (including servants) to follow the religion of
the head of the household— a principle which may be
called cuius familia. eius reliaio.
64
Grey goes beyond simple humanitarian advice to
reproach masters for their own moral faults; like a
prototypical Jung, he opines that bad servants merely
manifest their masters' characters: "how often that
vice, fault, folly and foible, which is censured in
the servant, is notorious and glaring in the conduct
of the master" (7), he writes. At a meeting of male
servants chaired by Grey's friend Dick Brush, a number
of anecdotes are related in which servants are accused
of small faults which their masters exhibit in
abundance (9-11). "'I am convinced,'" concludes Dick
Brush, "'that our cloth would not be half so
bespattered, if a man before he condemns a servant for
any fault, would enquire if it was not a principal
ingredient in his own character'" (11). Surely only a
servant could deliver such a moral indictment of
eighteenth-century masters.
Some few defenses of servants exist, though they
express their arguments in apologetic tones. These
writers bend over backwards to ensure that they are
understood; no revolutionaries they, but meek and
humble petitioners. Grey in fact opens his Apology
for Servants by first reminding his readers that
servants receive "universal censure": "He must
therefore be an hardy advocate, and not like to gain
much reputation, who ventures to [defend- them]" (1-2).
The coachman-author of The Second Table, continuing
his attack on upper servants, at the same time
reaffirms his loyalty to the upper classes:
Your real Masters of every Rank, from
a Lord to a Tradesman, sensible of the
Advantage Providence has given them,
feed, cloath, and pay you, and all the
Return they expect is a necessarily
honest, and diligent Discharge of the
Trust committed to you; but these
imaginary Masters, these Monsters,
self-created, exact a Servitude equal
to a French Tyranny .... (28-29)
This passage echoes Kate1s speech at the end of The
Taming of the Shrew, and like her speech, it reaffirms
from the subordinate's viewpoint in natural terms the
social law of hierarchy. "We have purposely avoided,"
writes the author of A Proposal for the Amendment and
Encouragement of Servants. "... Tenderness, Charity
or Compassion" in his pamphlet; he is arguing the
simple "Utility" of his proposal (20). The coachman
warns his "Brethren" not to be caught reading his
book, lest they enrage the second-table tyrants, and
concludes with a melodramatic apostrophe:
. . . Tell me, my depressed Brethren,
whose garments are of as many Colours
as that of Joseph, whose Servitude is
equal to his, under his Egyptian Task
masters; tell me, I say, what low Arts
are ye obliged to practise, to procure
an uncomfortable Belly-full, deprived
of the proper Sustenance allotted by
your real Lords and Masters, thro' the
Covetousness, Villainy, and Deceit of
your imaginary Ones? (29)
Like Disraeli, the coachman asserts a natural affinity
between the aristocracy and the poor, who have been
artificially divided by the intervening classes. His
utopian vision seems to be a true alliance between
servants and their masters, and a recognition that the
true enemy is not the employer, but middle management.
In a similar vein, the author of The Servant1s
Plea, although he argues fervently against imposing an
outdated wage scale, introduces his plea by saying he
will "always tak[e] care to preserve and promote the
Dignity and Interest of Masters and Mistresses" (2).
Moreover, he is careful to explain that he only writes
in defense of industrious servants, not "idle, loose,
or disorderly Persons":
But I am so far from vindicating idle
Vagrants, Drunkards, and other not
only useless but pernicious Branches
of the Community, that I humbly
conceive, were the most severe Laws
against such put in execution, it
would make the diligent and more
useful Sort the more valued and
encouraged. But the same Scripture
that proposeth a Reward to the good
and faithful Servant, orders that the
unprofitable Servant shall be beaten
with many Stripes: ^ ^ ^ ^ (10-11)
Likewise, in the midst of his indictment of servants
as natural enemies of masters, Barnard pauses to
67
commend those "who retain their Integrity, who
consider their Master's Interest as their own, and who
Labour as indefatigably to serve it. And these,
indeed, are Diamonds of the first Water; nor can their
Endeavors be too cordially accepted, or too punctually
rewarded" (58). Good servants, then, are worthy of a
master's generosity, however anomalous they may be.
Even when serving as servant advocates, authors
evidently believe it necessary to explain that they do
not seek to defend the undeserving, or that an attack
on the status quo is only meant to correct specific
abuses, and not the entire system of social
inequality. Indeed, many of the strongest criticisms
against masters are couched in explicitly (and
restrictively) theological terms— the implication
being that conservative Christianity, not radical
progressivism, favors humanitarian treatment of
servants. The author of The Servant's Plea explains
that good working conditions are necessary so that
servants may be able to seek their own salvation:
[Scripture] plainly proves, that
honest industrious Servants in a
Christian Nation are not to be drove
to their Duty, and terrified to it
like Negroes and Galley-Slaves, for
fear of Chastisement, and thereby have
their Minds so much enslaved, that
they have no time to think of any
thing but how they may save their
68
Bodies from temporal Punishment:- But
they ought to be encouraged, by having
Wages in proportion to their Merit,
and with a modest View of Interest, so
far as to enable them to appear
decently, and to be agreeable (though
according to their several Stations
inferior) Members of the Community;
that whilst they are faithfully
employing their Thoughts for their
Master's Interest and their Bodies in
his Service, their Minds may not be so
much enslaved by servile Fear, as to
have no Opportunity to think of the
Service of their Gracious Lord and
Master, to whom all Masters as well as
Servants must be accountable at last.
(9-10)
In the eighteenth-century scheme of things, even
economics and class struggle must give way to
theology.
As modern readers, we must acquaint ourselves
with the public debate over service in order to
appreciate the literature of servant conduct, for the
pamphlet wars served as the matrix of the conduct
book. What is clear amidst the confused discourse
surrounding servitude and its failings is that, in the
eighteenth century, attitudes about servants and the
conditions of servitude were a vortex of public debate
and private uncertainty. Eighteenth-century writers
had as many solutions to the servant problem as the
song "Officer Krupke" in West Side Story had to
juvenile delinquency— and the solutions were equally
impractical. Raise pay or lower wages? * Respect
servants or force them to submit? Dismiss them or— as
in Pamela's case— marry them? Rarely was a rational
voice heard above the maelstrom:
If a servant is capable of the duty
required, and the master not
tyrannical, neither of them should be
disturbed by little incidents. Each
should make a candid allowance for the
others [sic] frailties. (Hanway 148)
Such mutual tolerance was almost unknown in the
pamphlet wars over servants. It does emerge— but only
rarely— in the conduct books themselves.
NOTES
1 Bayne-Powell reports that the population of
England in 17 00 has been computed at 5 million; by
1800, the time of the first census, the population had
grown to 11 million" (9). Roy Porter, in English
Society in the Eighteenth Century (New York; Penguin
Books, 1990), says that domestic servants were "easily
the largest single occupational group, numbering
between 600,000 and 7 00,000"— or about 7-8% of the
population (85).
2 It is unclear how true this is; cf. Wilkes's A
Letter of Genteel and Moral Advice to a Young Ladv;
"Never keep any more Servants than you can very well
afford to maintain. As the pampering of Servants
makes them saucy and idle, so will the stinting of
them make them Thieves" (91).
3 But cf. Schwartz; "On a wealthy estate a house
staff, including gardeners and gamekeepers, might
include as many as seventy individuals" (51).
4 For a discussion of Augustinianism, see Donald
Greene, "Augustinianism and Empiricism; A Note on
Eighteenth-Century English Intellectual History," ECS;
A Journal of Literature and the Arts 1.1 (1967): 33-
68. And cf. Schwartz, p. 18: "... the eighteenth-
century [sic] confronted its mortality in a way that
was both intense and direct" (18).
5 Cf. Hoskins: "many [Englishmen] became
domestics in order to improve their own social status"
(2) .
6 In her discussion of the Bronte sisters'
childhood reading, Q. D. Leavis remarks, "the packmen
took round Pamela in cheap parts, it being so popular
with servants for obvious reasons . . ." (Jane Evre.
ed. Q. D. Leavis [New York: Penguin Books, 1977],
485). For a contemporary, if scornful, remark on the
novel's popularity, see The Complete Letters of Ladv
Marv Wortlev Montagu, ed. Robert Halsband (Oxford: The
71
Clarendon Press, 1966), vol. 2, 470: Pamela "has met
with very extrodinary [sic] (and I think undeserv'd)
success. It has been translated into French and into
Italian. It was all the Fashion at Paris and
Versailles, and is still the Joy of the Chambermaids
of all Nations" (letter to Lady Bute, October 17 and
25, 1750).
7 Clearly, Bayne-Powell portrays a privileged
class among the servant hierarchy, for elsewhere she
points out that
. . . in . . . large towns and even in
the country poor little girls were
overworked, underfed and cruelly ill-
treated. Many of them were pauper
children from the workhouses who had
been bound apprentice at an early age.
They could not leave their employment
until they married or reached the age
of twenty-one. They could, in theory,
appeal to the magistrate if they were
starved or badly used, but few would
have ventured to do so. The under
servants in a large house might also
be overworked and even beaten, but
they seldom if ever lacked good food.
(142)
Defoe's conservative narrator asserts that the poor
have easy access to justice: ". . . every poor
Apprentice Boy may complain, if he has not Food and
Cloaths fitting, and convenient, according to his
Indentures; and every Plowman, and poor Servant-Maid,
may complain to the Justices of the Peace" (Great Law
300). This statement uncomfortably echoes Scrooge's
"Are there no workhouses? Are there no prisons?" The
existence of remedies is no guarantee that they will
be equitably administered, as we of the twentieth
century know too well.
8 "Footmen were always given their liveries and
usually a working suit as well" (Bayne-Powell 145).
9 "I was part of every thing there. I marketed,
kept the book, and had the keys of every thing in the
house. I was steward, valet, butler, house-keeper,
head-cook, and footman. I taught the maid to dress
the Scotch dishes" (114).
72
10 For example, Bayne-Powell writes:
Many things were cleaned at home. Ox
gall mixed with powdered alum and
common salt was used for carpets.
There are directions for clear
starching, washing lace, cleaning
velvet. A handful of boiled fig-
leaves would, it was said, take stains
and grease out of bombazines, crape
and cloth. Mrs. Glasse tells servants
that they must know how to clean
"sattins and damasks, flowered silks,
gold and silver stuffs and gold and
silver lace, to take all sorts of
spots and stains out of linen, to take
off dirt from any silk . . . to take
tar, pitch and paint out of silks,
also oil and other greasy things," to
wash gauzes, book muslin and blow-
lace. Silver was generally cleaned
with some kind of powder, usually
whitening; but there were people who
recklessly boiled it. (124)
11 But cf. Schwartz, who writes "little time
would be spent on securing water, for little water was
used" (105). Unfortunately, he only elaborates to
point out that water was never drunk and people rarely
bathed, without mentioning the use of water to clean
the house.
12 For a discussion of the evolution of the
concept of comfort as a desideratum in architecture
and interior design, including furniture, see Witold
Rybczynski, Home: A Short History of an Idea (New
York: Penguin, 1986).
13 There are moments, for example, when Defoe's
persona seems to believe that servants are the source
of all the ills that flesh is heir to: "But all that I
have said is confirmed by the Parliament now sitting—
which is considering new laws to regulate servants—
. . . they see that the Rudeness and Insolence of
Servants is an unsufferable Burthen; that it is become
so general, as to deserve the Name of a National
Grievance, and to call for an additional Force of Law
to suppress it" (287).
73
For a dissenting view, see Robert Dodsley's
"Postscript" to Servitude: A Poem, a sarcastic
rebuttal to Defoe: "From our Pride, he proceeds to our
Pilfering. . . . a Man no sooner becomes a Servant,
but he becomes a Villain: Honesty and Servitude are
incompatable [sic]" (29).
15 And part of staying in one's place meant that
one should engage only in class-appropriate vices; the
anonymous coachman who indicted upper servants in The
Second Table writes that "The[ir] grand Concern is to
mimic their Superiors in every Pleasure, and a strong
Emulation to exceed in the Practice of every Vice.
Does the Man of Fortune keep one Mistress, his Valet
keeps two" (14). And cf. Defoe: ". . .it would be a
Satyr upon the Ladies, such as perhaps, they would not
bear the reading of, should we go about to tell, how
hard it is sometimes to know the Chamber-Maid from her
Mistress; or my Lady's Chief-Woman from one of my
Lady's Daughters . . ." (15). Dodsley finds fault
with Defoe for his claim that one cannot tell maid
from mistress: "A very likely Story 1 and a handsome
Compliment to the Ladies, I must needs confess, as if
a fine Woman had nothing to distinguish her from a
Servant, but the Richness of her Apparel" (29).
1 fk • •
Dodsley, by contrast, finds Defoe's anxiety
about rank and clothing to be ridiculous, and due only
to his own stupidity and bad temper:
Upon Perusal, I found [his book]
stuft with nothing in the World but
opprobrious Railings, and spiteful
Invectives against the Pride,
Laziness, and Dishonesty of
Gentleman's Servants.
What particular Reasons this
Gentleman might have for the heavy
Charge which he hath exhibited against
us, I cannot positively affirm; but it
seems, as if the first Rise of his
Quarrel with us proceeded from two or
three gross Blunders, which he
confesses himself to have been guilty
of, in mistaking the Maid for the
Mistress. This, I suppose, so
mightily incens'd the poor Gentleman,
that he was resolv'd, if possible, to
74
be reveng'd upon the whole Body of us
at once. And, in order to it, he first
attacks us in the Article of Wages, in
which he is pleas'd to think we are
very exorbitant, and endeavours to
reduce them from seven or eight Pounds
a Year, to two or three, imagining, to
be sure, that by this Means he should
effectually secure the Maid-Servants
for the future, from leading him into
any Errors by their fine Cloaths. (27-
28)
17 For an opposing opinion in this matter of
servants' clothing, cf. The Servant's Plea:
I know some now alledge, that Servants
now-a-days are grown so haughty, that
they would lay all they can get upon
their Backs; that some of them dress
so high, that it is hard to know the
Maid from the Mistress, and the like.
I answer, If a Maid Servant, for
Instance, lays out more upon her Back
than her Wages will afford, it is
either owing to her too great
Extravagancy, or to her too little
Wages; If her Extravagancy is such,
that reasonable Wages will not
maintain it, she is excluded from the
Benefit of any Argument of mine in her
favour; but if she is honest and
industrious, and would be modestly
decent and genteel, to be a Credit to
her Mistress, a good Precedent to her
Sex as a modest Woman or Girl, and to
her Fraternity as a Servant, and
lastly, a Comfort as well as a Credit
to her Parents and Relations, I cannot
but think that this if it goes no
farther is a very creditable Ambition,
and what it is every one's Duty to
aspire after. (22-23)
18 And see Grey: "This year we have been under
consideration again, and have made our appearance on
the stage.— But however the author of High Life Below
Stairs may pride himself in his satirical
representation, I will venture to tell him, that Low
75
Life Above Stairs would have made a much livelier
scene . . ."(6). This echoes Defoe's assertion that
corrupt behavior trickles down from the top.
19 This is a strikingly unusual use of the Joseph
story in a servant conduct book. Generally, Joseph is
used as a type of the virtuous servant, not invoked as
a victim of the cruelty of unjust taskmasters. See
below in chapter 3, where the story of Joseph and
Potiphar's wife is used conservatively, to advocate
chastity.
20 And cf. Oliver Grey:
. . . I am not writing in defence of
any servants, but those who are honest
and sober; such as are irreproachable
in those great and necessary points,
and not deficient in diligence,
cleanliness, civility, and the like;
but who may possibly have, with these
qualities, some faults and foibles of
a lesser kind . . .
I profess to have nothing to say to
sots, thieves, gamesters, corruptors
of children, &c. of which there are
infinite numbers in this great town,
who live an everlasting disgrace to
their profession, a scandal to all
worthy families, and a reproach to
civil government. (4)
76
Chapter 2
Eighteenth-Century Conduct Books for Servants
I shall therefore in this Discourse
attempt to consider the Duty of
Labour. as it is a Branch of Religion,
and shall endeavour to show how far
Labour and Industry are consistent
with Devotion to God .... (The
Religion of Labour, a sermon preached
by Robert Clayton, Lord Bishop of
Corke, 1740, 7)
Since the kind hand of providence hath
vouchsafed you its assistance, you
should be contented in your station;
for there is no degradation in being a
servant: the only disgrace that can
attach to the calling, is the
faithless and careless discharge of
its duties. All the stations of life
are useful and honourable in their
various degres; and it is our own
conduct that makes them otherwise.
The Supreme Lord of heaven and earth
hath, in his wisdom and providence,
rendered the various conditions of
mankind necessary to the due
subordination and proper government of
society; some are rich, others poor;
some are masters, others servants; but
those are the most useful and worthy
members of society, who best perform
the various duties incumbent on them
. . . . In whatever station,
therefore, that we are placed, we
should discharge its duties with
fidelity, cheerfulness, and propriety:
our conduct in it should be moral,
exemplary and assiduous; and in so
demeaning ourselves, we shall best
consult our individual happiness and
comfort. (The Female Servant's
77
Adviser, or The Service Instructor
[1819?], 13-14)
Conduct books for servants have rarely been the
subject of scholarly investigation; most historical
and literary research on conduct books has considered
courtesy literature, that is, conduct books for the
ruling classes.1 Despite this apparent lack of modern
interest, however, the eighteenth century seems to
have abounded in conduct books for servants; at least
forty examples of this ephemeral paraliterature are to
be found in rare book libraries. Even if we assume
that many such books have been lost over the
intervening centuries, the remaining copies provide a
wealth of cultural information about what was expected
from servants, and how servants were persuaded to
their duty.
Conduct books for servants vary somewhat in the
ways that duty was described. One author may claim
that humility is the most important duty of a servant,
and another may assert the importance of diligence.
The specific arguments used to persuade servants to
undertake their duty range from the religious to the
practical. Nevertheless, one purpose common to all
conduct books prevails; their place in society was to
78
be clearly explained to servants, and resignation to
that destiny preached, often in explicitly religious
terms.
The virtues desired of servants can be
conceptualized less accurately as a list of discrete
items than as a constellation: a pattern of
interrelated points usually centered around obedience.
Obedience to the will of God and to one’s master—
under normal circumstances, the two were considered
identical— implies such other virtues as honesty,
chastity, and temperance.2 What is striking, however,
is not that each conduct book advocates obedience, but
that it addresses the servant's duties in religious or
moral rather than in practical terms; that is, even a
book that tells the servant how to set the table or
boil a pudding will couch such instructions within the
greater framework of Christian virtue. "... '[T]is
absolutely necessary," observes Zinzano, "that
Servants should be Christians ..." (11). Lucas
agrees that "the qualifications which make a good
Servant. are such as these; Fear of, and Dependence
upon God, Contentment in their Condition, Love of
their Masters and Mistresses, Humility, Meekness and
Patience, Faithfulness, Industry and Discretion ..."
(2). Practicality is very nearly an afterthought
79
within the primary context of religious duty. "How to
be a good servant" in the eighteenth century meant
only tangentially "how to be a skilled servant," and
predominantly "how to be a virtuous servant." How far
this attitude is divorced from that of the late
twentieth century may be seen in the words of Judith
Martin, whose best-selling book, Miss Manners * Guide
to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, repeatedly asserts
that manners have nothing to do with morals, "an icky,
messy subject, which fortunately is not Miss Manners'
field" (249). The split between manners and morals
which seems so natural to the modern era had not yet
taken place in the eighteenth century— especially not
for the lower orders, and most especially not for
women.
It is important to remember that the eighteenth
century was not "politically correct." Women and
lower-class people were regarded as inferior, and were
expected to stay that way, the occasional exception
such as Stephen Duck, the Thresher Poet, serving only
to maintain the status quo. Educational material
intended for social inferiors openly preaches
obedience and humility; there was no need to be subtle
or indirect about it. Rank was divinely ordained; to
depart from it was either morally vicious or simply
80
insane. In any case, it was rebellion against the
manifest will of God:
To do otherwise [than accept one's
lot in life] wou'd be a kind of
refusing to act the Part assign'd us
by [God's] Direction; an Affectation
to look like a Ruler, suppose when we
are born to a State of Service and
Subjection: Which is a Quarreling with
him, as having not wisely, or not
justly chose our Condition and
Character. (Seaton 4)
Obedience to the social order was merely a subdivision
of obedience to God.3 Anyone who was skeptical need
only consult the Bible, regarded by most people as a
collection of divine instructions on leading the godly
life. "Whatever then be the Choice which Heaven has
made," writes Seaton, "it is our Part to have an Eye
to the particular Duties incumbent upon us in the
Sphere we move, and trace out the several Lines, which
the Scriptures have chalk'd out as peculiar to our
Station" (4).4 For the eighteenth-century servant,
the eleventh commandment was "stay in thy place in the
hierarchy."
Salvation depended on attending to the Bible's
rule. Servants were to be humble, a quality
"peculiarly necessary to a State of Subjection, and a
Quality without which no one can be a good Servant,"
according to Zinzano (12). ". . . Humility with
81
respect to Servants is a right Sense of their
Subjection, as the State of life to which Providence
has call'd 'em, for which it has fitted 'em, and is
therefore (all Things consider'd) best for 'em," he
continues (15). This statement closely parallels
Pope's "One truth is clear, 'Whatever IS, is RIGHT,'"
published a few years later fEssav on Man 1.294).
Humility is, of course, the necessary virtue for
a class from whom prompt obedience is required. It
was not for human beings, and more particularly the
lower orders, to question God's will. If servants are
not humble, if they give way to pride, says Zinzano,
they begin a Struggle for more Power;
a Struggle that is unnatural,
overturns the Order of all Things, and
misplaces the Condition of each Party.
. . . those that undertake to serve,
must consider what 'tis to be subject,
and how to refrain the Vanity of their
Minds. (16-17)5
Zinzano derives his argument for social hierarchy from
biblical precedents, including Proverbs:
. . . Servants never less consult the
Honour of their Masters or Mistresses,
than when they usurp upon their
Authority, and get the Government out
of their Hands. For three things the
Earth is disquieted, (says Solomon)
and for four which it cannot bear.
Prov. xxx. 21. And one of these
Things is, a Servant when he reigneth.
(45)
82
The Catechism, which all Anglican children were
required to memorize, asks the child, "What is thy
duty towards thy Neighbour?" The child replies,
My duty toward my Neighbour is to love
him as myself, and to do to all men,
as I would they should do unto me. To
love, honour, and succour my father
and mother. To honour & obey the
King, and all that are put in
authority under him. To submit my
self to all my governours, teachers,
spiritual pastours and masters. To
order my self lowly & reverently to
all my betters. f Book of Common
Prayer. 96)
Of course, the Catechism was not binding simply on
children; it was the official statement of doctrine
supplied by the Church of England, binding on all
Anglicans. Adults as well as children preparing for
their first Communion were expected to "order
[themselves] lowly and reverently to all [their]
betters." Thus humility became not only a matter of
one's social or professional life, but a part of one's
relationship with God and the Church.
There were pragmatic benefits to humility as
well. Zinzano explains that "Humility also begets
Patience, which eases Mind and Body of much of the
Burden of Servitude ..." (13). He adds that since
servants are utterly dependent upon their masters'
good will for their livelihood, humility is the only
reliable means of continuing in employment. Hanway
concurs:
Humility is a virtue required in
all Stations, but a proud servant of
all God's creatures, is the strangest
inconsistency. Pride and vanity lead
to the depths of distress. Half the
wretched beings of thy sex [female],
who live on the deplorable wages of
iniquity, for the short time they live
at all, owe their being discharged out
of service, to pride.
Submission is another branch of the
same duty. St. Peter recommends to
us, with the force of a divine
commandment, "Servants be subject to
your masters with all fear . . . . "
(149)
In other words, no distinction was drawn between
religious obedience and social obedience; again and
again the connection between the two is asserted by
£
writers of conduct books for servants.
Nor was it merely servants who had to remain in
their place; members of the upper classes were
propagandized as heavily to stay in their sphere:
Every Capacity of Life, in which a
Man is, has a Set of Duties peculiar
to its Character; to the Observance of
which, there is a very exact Regard to
be had: Because the Part that every
Man is to act, is not fortuitously
appointed him, but by the especial
Designation of the great Disposer of
all Things, that has set out to each
of us the Part we are to act upon the
Stage of this World; and will concern
himself hereafter to examine how we
have severally behaved; and either
censure or applaud us, just as we have
84
either well or ill acquitted
ourselves. . . .
[Every station in life has a proper
behavior,] so strictly appertaining to
the State and Condition, that it
cannot be separated without a
scandalous Enormity, that wou'd seem
unnatural to either an Heathen or
Christian; be contrary alike to the
Dictates of Nature, and the Rules of
the Gospel; be sinful as well as
indecent; and swerving from the Law of
doing Things which are praise-worthy,
and of good report. (Seaton 1-3)
The implication is, of course, that human beings must
submit to the will of God who placed them in their
various stations. Obedience is not merely required of
the humble, but of all sorts and conditions of men.
Insofar as such beliefs prevailed, noblesse—oblige
radicalism was stymied as effectively as was lower-
class agitation.
Why was such heavy-handed preaching of social
hierarchy necessary? According to Frank Lawrence
Hoskins, the roots lie in earlier periods of social
unrest, like the Tudor era:
Th[e] movement of men from one social
class to another . . . caused
considerable alarm in the ranks of
those who persisted in the medieval
view— indeed, this was the orthodox
view throughout the century— that the
perfect realm is the static one. . . .
The great fear in the minds of
sixteenth-century thinkers was the
fear of social chaos. The long-
established tradition that in Heaven
were Father, Son, and Holy Ghost;
85
Seraphs, Dominations, and
Principalities— that is to say, strict
order and degree; and that on earth,
therefore, by logical analogy, there
were order-preserving hierarchies was
generally accepted without question.
But this chain-of-being concept was
being threatened by disturbing
egalitarian impulses .... (29-30)
Although we cannot accuse Englishmen of the eighteenth
century of universally exhibiting "disturbing
egalitarian impulses," their era had witnessed a
number of radical changes, any one of them sufficient
to cause fears that social order was in danger. The
Civil War and its Protectorate, the Restoration of the
Crown in 1660, the Glorious Revolution with its Bill
of Rights (in effect making the King subject to
Parliament), the Act of Settlement restricting the
succession to Protestants, the Wars of the League of
Augsburg and of the Spanish Succession, the '15, the
South Sea Bubble, economic chaos and the rise of
Walpole— it is no wonder that so many pamphleteers
sought refuge in conservatism, the wish-fulfilling
belief in the good old days. If people would just
stay where God had put them, everything would be fine,
they reasoned. And the key to keeping the lower
orders down was that they be taught to obey.
The central biblical text on obedience, cited
repeatedly by authors of conduct books for servants,
is St. Paul's Epistle to the Colossians, chapter III,
verses 22-24: "Servants, obey in all things your
Masters according to the Flesh; not with Eye-service,
as Men-pleasers, but in Singleness of Heart, fearing
God: And whatsoever you do, do it heartily, as unto
the Lord, and not unto Men: Knowing that of the Lord
ye shall receive the Reward of the Inheritance; for ye
serve the Lord Christ." Note the equation established
in Scripture between obedience to the master and
obedience to God; it is crucial to an understanding of
how this first-century document came to be applied to
an eighteenth-century society:
The Design of Christianity is to make
People happy in this World, as well as
in another: And the Wav it takes to do
this, is to make them good and
virtuous whilst they live, bv the
Discharge of all the Relations they
stand in to each other, whether
Natural. Civil, or Contracted; i.e. bv
performing their Duty to their
Neighbour. And therefore, if I can
help to make you good Relations, you
will. I know, be so far good
Christians. (Fleetwood Sig. A2
verso)7
William Fleetwood, Bishop of Ely, titled his 1716 book
The Relative Duties of Parents and Children. Husbands
and Wives. Masters and Servants; and clearly for this
man of God, the basis of all virtue was the execution
of those relative social duties. There is of course a
theological basis for such reasoning: the duties of
the Christian are to love God and to love one's
neighbor as oneself. But the fact that "love" should
be construed as "acting one's part in the social
hierarchy" speaks of a more conservative tradition in
religion as well as in sociology, compared with the
constructions of our own century.
The primary duty of all people, however, no
matter what their rank, was religious obedience. To
modern readers, obedience to God may appear to be a
rather abstract concept, more a matter of attitudinal
ethics than of practical morality. But writers of the
eighteenth century expected a less vague, more
practical application. The early nineteenth-century
Female Servant's Adviser recommends that servants
seeking a position first get a complete job
description, and then
recollect to stipulate for permission
to attend divine worship, once at
least, on every sabbath day. Setting
aside the advantage of the privilege
of such permission to your peace of
mind, and future welfare, it will give
a pleasing idea to your employers, of
your principles and disposition; for
in all stations of life, sound
principals of religion are always
considered as the best guarantee of
honesty and fidelity, and the only
foundation of character. (12)
One cannot be a good servant unless one is a good,
i.e.. practicing and observant, Christian. Richard
Lucas, writing of the qualifications of good servants,
begins with "Fear of, and Dependence upon God" (2).
Religious duties, he says, begin with "such as may be
called Instrumental or Relative, as Prayer, Hearing
and Reading the Word, and Receiving the Sacrament.
Secondly. Trust in God" (46). Similarly, John Waugh,
Rector of St. Peter's Cornhill, preached a sermon
exhorting servants to attend first to religious duty:
read the Bible and devotional books; pray at least
twice daily; attend church "as you have opportunity,
especially on the Lord's-Day, and other solemn times";
take Communion; and observe the doctrine and
discipline of the Church (12-13).8 Zinzano also takes
a detailed and prescriptive approach:
. . . the Day must begin with
Addresses to God for the Protection of
his Providence, and a Blessing upon
his Labours; for Grace to withstand
Temptation, or to recover as soon as
fallen: And by rising early, the more
Time may be spared for this Morning
Sacrifice. When the Business of the
Day is over, some Space must be
allowed for Recollection, and renewing
[the servant's] Petitions; in which he
shall call to Mind the Omissions of
Duty, and the Transgressions of it,
that belong to the Account of the same
Day; imploring Forgiveness, and
begging more Assistance for the next
Trial. Food and Sleep are not more
89
necessary for the Health and
Refreshment of the Body, than these
Returns of Devotion are to be the Ease
and Improvement of the Mind; and
should no more be neglected than
sitting down to Meals, or going to
Rest. And how can a Blessing on any
Undertakings be expected that are not
sanctified by this Method, begun and
ended in the Fear of God, and the
Invocation of his Name? The Period of
the present Life is only the Passage
to a future; our long and last
Settlement is in another World. And
he that eats the Bread of Carefulness
to accommodate himself with
Conveniencies in his Passage, should
certainly make Provision for his
Journey's End, and in this World
maintain a Correspondence with the
other. (81-82)
This makes it sound as though polishing the andirons
was recreation undertaken between matins and lauds by
the novitiate of some particularly disciplined
religious order, rather than the primary occupation of
a domestic servant. Authors of conduct books exhibit
no sense that an eighteenth-century Christian should
wait until he is in the mood for prayer, or feels the
spirit move him; he must arrange his entire schedule
around devotional hours and minutes. It is difficult
to imagine an employee of our time entering such items
as prayer or church attendance on a professional
resume; yet piety was considered in the eighteenth
century to qualify one for domestic employment.
90
Indeed, there seems to have been some awareness
that, even in the vocally religious eighteenth
century, pious servants might encounter ridicule.
Thomas Seaton, Chaplain to the Earl of Nottingham,
warns servants that
. . . the Generality of Servants . . .
are so far short of the Character of
being Devout, that great Numbers of
them are scandalously Prophane. . . .
Divers of these begin the Day with
a Curse in their Mouths instead of a
Prayer, and end it with a drunken
Catch instead of a Psalm of
Thanksgiving. The very appearance of
Devotion in any of their Fellow
Servants is a certain Mark of their
Derision, and they are incessantly
upon them with Ridicule and an
impudent Mockery, till the Spirit of
Piety is driven in a Doors ....
(115-16)
Surely, Seaton would have admired Pamela, who falls on
her knees crying out to her Saviour on all and sundry
occasions. Some of Richardson's critics found fault
with Pamela's religious displays? their underlying
attitude seems to have been that emotional theatrics
trivialized religion. Perhaps Seaton was aware of
popular distaste for such "enthusiasm" when he feels
called upon to defend piety:
If [servants] are at any time
laugh'd at as Precise and Puritanical,
let them tell the Prophane Scoffer,
that he meanly prostitutes himself to
be the Devil's Tool, and is vilely
employ'd by him in the dirty Work of
91
striving to put Religion out of
Countenance . . . that he scorns to be
led to Hell by a Fellow that is a
Compound of Conceitedness and
Ignorance. . . .
But if [a servant] shou'd become
the Subject of Diversion, be made the
Game and Jest of such of his own Rank
as are loose and Atheistical, let him
be secretly concern’d in his own Heart
upon their Account? but upon his own,
let him greatly rejoice, that he is
counted worthy to suffer Shame for the
Name of Jesus. (120, 128)
This notion of the servant as missionary and
martyr for Christ is only one aspect of the idea,
promoted in many conduct books, of the servant as
Christ.
. . . Your Service is but an
opportunity of Merit and of Glory, it
puts you into a capacity to do and
suffer more, with design that you
should receive more too than other men
in another World at least,
proportionably to those hardships you
undergo, and these Virtues which you
practice in this. And the blessed
Jesus, who took your Form and
Character upon him, did not disdain
the lowness of your condition, but
shed as much Blood for you as for the
Rich and Noble; he purchas'd for you
the same Peace of God, the same
Favour, the same Kingdom; all that is
requir'd of you is, that you should
live in those Virtues that are
suitable to your condition, that you
should do the Duty of your Station
. . . (Lucas 202)
Servants are often reminded that the first shall be
last, and the last first; that patience under abuse is
92
the way of the Cross; that Christ himself took the
earthly guise of a humble servant. To be a suffering
servant is to be Christlike. To be Christlike is to
know that there will be pie in the sky by and by:
The Seven Years which Jacob served for
Rachel. seemed unto him but a few
Davs. for the Love he had to her; and
how then should the Hope and
expectation of infinitely greater
Wages, encourage you to a careful and
honest Discharge of the Duties of your
Station, under the worst of your
Condition? When once your Service is
accomplished, you shall receive at the
Lords [sic] Hands, in another World,
proportionably to the Virtues you have
practiced, and the Hardships you have
undergone in this. For the blessed
Jesus, who, for the Sake of doing
Good, took your Form and Character
upon Him, and disdained not to live in
your low Estate, after you have served
the great Ends of your being sent into
the World, will, from a State of
Servitude, translate you to the
glorious Liberty of the Sons of God,
to live and reign, as Joint-Heirs with
Him, in the Kingdom of his Father, to
all Eternity. (Waugh 2 6-27)
In an era long preceding the labor movements even of
the early nineteenth century, deferred gratification
was preached to workers as a matter of course. After
all, if servitude was good enough for the Son of Man,
it should be good enough for a butler or housemaid.9
There was even a holy day in the church calendar,
St. Bartholomew's Day, on which, evidently, ideals of
servitude were preached to servants. Waugh's conduct
93
book is actually a St. Bartholomew's Day sermon: The
Duty of Apprentices and other Servants. A Sermon
Preach'd at the Parish Church of St. Bridget, alias
Bride. August 24th. 1713. Being the Festival of St.
Bartholomew; At a Meeting of about 1400 Persons of
both Sexes. Although Bartholomew is the patron saint
of tanners, there is no indication that that patronage
is relevant to the preaching of this sermon. No doubt
the connection is to be found in the Gospel reading
for St. Bartholomew's Day, Luke xxii. 24—30:
And there was also a strife among
them, which of them should be
accounted the greatest. And he said
unto them, The kings of the Gentiles
exercise lordship over them; and they
that exercise authority upon them are
called benefactors. But ye shall not
be so: but he that is greatest among
you, let him be as the younger; and he
that is chief, as he that doth serve.
For whether is greater, he that
sitteth at meat, or he that serveth?
is not he that sitteth at meat? but I
am among you as he that serveth. Ye
are they which have continued with me
in my temptations. And I appoint unto
you a kingdom, as my Father hath
appointed unto me; that ye may eat and
drink at my table in my kingdom, and
sit on thrones judging the twelve
tribes of Israel.
Servants, then, were reminded on St. Bartholomew's Day
that their Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ was himself a
servant. What could be more likely, in an age when
the lower orders were subjected to heavy-handed
religious indoctrination, to persuade servants to stay
in their places? After all, goes this argument, the
more humble and obedient they are now, the more
godlike they will become in the future. There is an
early hint in such writings of today's liberation
theology; in the eighteenth century, however, justice
was to be deferred until the afterlife.10
This Catch-22 for servants, based on a central
paradox of Christianity, is mirrored in another
contradiction: the idea that virtue produces both a
heavenly reward hereafter and a material reward in the
here and now. Spiritual and fleshly motives are
remarkably and unselfconsciously mixed in Woolley's
The Compleat Servant-Maid:
If you would endeavour to gain the
esteem and reputation of a good
Servant, and so to procure to yourself
not only great Wages, but also great
Gifts and Vales, the love and respect
of your Lady or Mistress, and the
blessing of God Almighty upon all your
lawful Endeavours, you must in the
first place, be mindful of your Duty
to your Creator . . . Be careful that
you say your Prayers Morning and
Evening, that you read good Books, and
hear Sermons as often as conveniently
you can. (7)
Even the clergyman Seaton uses the argument of simony
to espouse piety: "A Third Reason for your being more
especially concern'd to be Religious, is . . . to gain
95
[your master's] Favour. . . . the surest Way to
please, and be a Favourite of our Earthly Master, is
in the first Place to please and be a Favourite of
God's . . (125-26). Although written by a
chaplain, this advice approaches hypocrisy when it
advocates using religion for social advancement or
material gain. Such a blend of spiritual and carnal
virtues was not only very attractive to the uneducated
member of the lower classes, with its blend of pie in
the kitchen and pie in the sky, but also serves to
reinforce the structures of social hierarchy, thus
pleasing those at the top of the pyramid.
Indeed, servants were sometimes told that their
happiness in heaven depended entirely on their humble
service in this life; Seaton refers to "that future
Recompence that belongs only to the Sincere, Whose
Love to God carries 'em out with equal Ardency to
every Branch of their Duty, and to obey him as
chearfully under one Relation as another" (6). He
even goes so far as to say that disobedient servants
will "be rejected hereafter, as having been wanting in
a very necessary Branch of your Christian Obligation"
(7). The uppity servant faced not only unemployment,
but eternal torment in the nether regions.
Servants were actually expected to be more, not
less, virtuous than masters because of their inferior
position:
First, because your Circumstances
being meaner than theirs, you have
less temptation to think of building
your Tabernacles here, and more
inducement to aim at securing an
Inheritance there where the
Distinctions of Master and Servant
will be at an end; where your Mansions
shall be better than his, if you have
more holily acted your Part than he
has done his. . . . (Seaton 122)11
Surely this confuses piety with vengeance.
Nevertheless, if taken literally, the message is that
servants are required to be more holy than their
privileged and leisured masters. Moreover, virtue in
the hierarchical relationship must begin with the
servant, not, as one might expect, with the more
privileged and powerful:
Remember then, in the first Place,
that all Duties are reciprocal? and,
if you hope to receive Favour and
Indulgence from [your Master], you
must, first of all, endeavour to
deserve it by your obliging and
ingenuous Behavior. (Barnard 2-3)
Barnard is, of course, writing to apprentices, who
naturally expect someday to act as masters. But even
so, he delivers a double message with regard to power.
"All Duties are reciprocal," yet the initiative in
establishing that reciprocity lies with the servant,
97
the inferior. To say, as some writers of conduct
books do, that servants must be humble and obedient,
and yet to exhort them to take the initiative, to tell
them that the burden of making the social order work
lies with them, seems at once to deprive them of power
and to reaffirm their control, not only of the
relationship, but indeed of the entire universe of
hierarchical relationships.
Part of the reason for the higher standard of
virtue for the lower classes was that servants, being
poor and downtrodden, had a special advantage in the
heavenly sweepstakes.
A good Servant may not only promise
himself the natural, and the usual
Rewards of an industrious, careful,
just and faithful Service from his
earthly Master, and the rest of the
World; but also the Reward of the
Inheritance at God's hands, for he
serves the Lord Christ; one who, in
the Form of a Servant, disdained not
to live and die for the meanest of
Mankind; who hath promist God’s
Favour, both here and hereafter, to
such as do their Duties in the meanest
Stations faithfully and truly; and one
who is enabled to perform his Promises
to them. (Fleetwood 3 03)
At this point, it begins to sound almost as though
servants have an unfair edge over their masters.
According to this view, the servant gets bed, board
98
and wages in the present, plus the added bonus of
being able to lord it over his master in Kingdom Come.
The consistency of Fleetwood's argument suffers
somewhat, though, when he asserts that servitude is
not so very bad. There are, to be sure, few
privileges, but there are, he claims, few cares.
Being a servant is not a sign of God's punishment; on
the contrary, one's station in life is the result of
random chance (304). It is difficult for the reader
to understand how one's place in society can be
simultaneously the product of divine will and blind
chance— a theological antithesis worthy of a Victorian
clergyman, but somewhat unexpected in pre-Darwinian
England.12
Lucas agrees that responsibility rests with the
servant; "'tis not the Nature of Service, but the
Faults of Servants, which render this state uneasie
and contemptible, the greatest Burthen and Dishonour
of it being in truth to be imputed to the unreasonable
Discontents, to the negligent, unfaithful & undiscreet
Tsicl behaviour of many servants.1 ' he writes in his
introductory epistle (i-ii). He reaffirms Fleetwood's
sense of the power of servants: "the Estate, the
Honour of their Masters and Mistresses, the Peace, the
Happiness and Virtue too of the whole Family, doth
99
very often depend much upon 'em . . ." (2). "'Tis by
you," he later intones, "the order and beauty of the
World in a great measure subsists, for were there no
Servants, there could be no Masters . . ." (203), thus
glorifying the servant as the very foundation of
society. Hanway similarly claims that "good servants
not only preserve the tranquillity of families, but
frequently are the means of saving them from ruin"
(14 6). This is servant as saviour indeed. No doubt
much of this sort of propaganda is meant to persuade
the servant that, as his occupation is crucially
important to the well-being of society, he must be
punctilious in fulfilling its duties. Yet the message
must from time to time have given servants the very
sense of their own importance that so many writers of
conduct books deplore. If religious training
persuades the servant that Christ is the infinite God,
ruler of the universe, and then conduct books liken
the servant to Christ, it is easy to see that the
servant's sense of proportion could be adversely
affected.
Perhaps it is along these lines— with the idea of
servant as Christ and servant as foundation of the
chain of being firmly in mind— that Hanway exhorts
servants to cultivate a sort of Christian pity towards
100
their masters: "My advice to thee is, that instead of
resenting, thou shouldst learn to compassionate: do
not imagine, that mercy and compassion were made to be
exercised only by the great and wealthy toward
inferiors ..." (151). If the servant's master
berates him, the servant must sympathize with the
burdens of wealth. With the rich, always a little
patience. Zinzano acknowledges that
'Tis natural and easy to love the good
and gentle, the liberal and merciful
[master]; but to love the froward is
against the Grain; for though a
Servant may be forced to know his
Driver, the same Force cannot command
his Love. This Duty therefore in this
Respect, like other Acts of Self-
denial, and like the Love to Enemies,
is to be reconciled to Practice by the
Authority of him that has commanded
it; and a conscientious Servant will
bear good Will to him he does not
like, for the sake of him he does
love, for God's sake, who will account
this as an Instance of Affection to
himself, as a Tryal of it, and
accordingly reward it. (50-51)
At the conclusion of this sermonette, however, Zinzano
wryly admits that "This Reason I confess, affects only
the Religious ..." (51).
Some of these exhortations to virtue begin to
sound oddly egalitarian, considering their intended
audience. Servants, after being flogged with
reminders of their unworthiness and low station, are
101
then uplifted with ideas, first of their spiritual
superiority, and then of their social equality.
Zinzano opens The Servants Calling by considering "the
Office of Servant; which, how mean soever it may be
reputed, is capable of being adorn'd with the highest
Virtues . . . For not he that has the highest, but he
that acts his Part best (whatever it is) must be
preferable in the true Scale of Merit" (7). "All Men
cannot possibly be great and honourable," writes
Fleetwood. "But all Men may be just and honest,
virtuous and religious; all Men may live in God's
Favour in this World, and may thereby be happy in the
other . . ." (309). Virtue, then, exists entirely
independent of rank. He continues along even more
radical lines:
This is no little thing for Servants
to consider, that however mean and
despicable their condition may appear
in the sight of Men; yet that, in
God's Eyes, who understands the value
of his Creatures best, they are of
equal worth with the Great and Noble;
that he has given them Bodies full as
beautiful and useful, Faculties of
Mind as fine and good; made them as
capable of being virtuous, and
exercising Graces, has redeem'd them
with the same precious Blood of
Christ, opened the same Gates of
Heaven, and prepar'd for them the same
Glory. . . . [Christ] is the common
Master of the whole World, and 'tis to
him his Servants must look up; Him
they must first and principally obey;
102
and, under him, their several Masters
and Superiours, as he gives them Order
and Command . . . . (310)
Even egalitarian doctrine is, of course, relative for
Fleetwood; men are equal because all are equally
subject to the Divine Will, equally redeemed by Jesus.
David Erskine, Lord Dun, however, takes equality a
step further, admonishing not servants, but masters,
that all are equal. And his warning is couched in
almost threatening tones:
For a motive to persuade all
Masters and Mistresses to the
observing of these and all other
duties to their Servants; let me bring
under their reflexion this
consideration, that it is only owing
to the divine goodness and providence
that distinguishes them from the rank
of Servants, who, by nature, are
equally entitled to the good things
and enjoyments of this world, as are
their Masters; . . . all Masters
should behave and carry towards their
Servants, as they would wish to be
treated by them, if God in his
providence had so ordered it, that
their different states and conditions
had been inverted and changed. (221-
22)
Behind Lord Dun's words hovers an implicit "or else";
he seems to suggest that the Divine Wheel of Fortune
may cast down those who exhibit sufficient hubris as
to forget who raised them up.
It is, then, not surprising that servants were so
often criticized for pride and insolence, when they
103
were continually being given mixed messages in the
conduct books intended for their use. One may easily
imagine the confusion of the servant who is told on
one page that he is so far beneath his master or
mistress that he must not presume to any intimacy,
however slight— and who is told in the next chapter
that he is his master's equal, nay, his superior, in
the eyes of God.13
This egalitarian strain goes beyond theological
considerations, however, in one conduct book. Sarah
Savage's early nineteenth-century Advice to A Young
Woman at Service (182 3) asserts that servants may be
virtual gentles:
True delicacy, true refinement, my
dear Rebecca, is in the heart, and
does not in the least depend on the
whiteness of the hand, or the fineness
and fashion of a gown. She can never
feel in a degraded state, who, amidst
the labors of the kitchen, can look
beyond this life, and see in another
world the crown that is laid up for
those who fear God; who, looking for a
heavenly reward, is faithful in the
discharge of all her duties.— This, my
dear Rebecca, is true greatness; it is
riches, it is honor, it is all that
makes us truly noble. (29)
In other words, the locus of greatness has ceased to
be external either materially (riches) or spiritually
(God's mercy), and has become internal. The noble
heart is the source both of virtue and of true
delicacy. This is the sort of sentiment that is
usually labeled "Romantic"; yet it is a commonplace in
English literature at least from the Middle Ages
forward, and is exactly the sentiment informing
Pamela. written eighty years earlier.
Given the tendency in the servant conduct books
to appeal to the servant's own sense of religious
duty, and the constant reminders that the servant's
own understanding of God's will is to guide him in
moral dilemmas, it seems natural that, despite the
many firm exhortations to obedience, many conduct
books painstakingly spell out exceptions to the rules
of obedience. Perhaps the writers feared that their
audience would take the biblical command, "Servants,
obey your masters in all things" too far. For
example, Fleetwood, writing in an age of often literal
biblical interpretation, comments liberally on
Colossians III: 22-24 ("Servants, obey in all things
your Masters"):
And yet you may take it for a Rule,
that neither Father, Husband, nor
Master, nor any Superiour whatsoever,
is to be obeyed in all things:
Obedience, without Restriction or
Reserve, belongs to no mortal Man:
. . . there will be always room, and
necessity for Limitations and
Restrictions, arising . . . from the
positive Command of God, and from the
105
Laws of the Kingdom, or some other
Consideration . . .
And, First, the Laws of God are
certainly to be preferr'd to all the
Commands of Masters, Mistresses, and
all Superiours: If God command one
thing to be done and prohibit the
doing another, no Master can dispense
with his Servant's neglecting the
Command, or venturing on the
Prohibition: The Servant is there to
obey God rather than his Master.
(271-72)
j
Drawing the line of earthly obedience at the border of
obedience to God is a commonplace exception to the
rule, as is subordinating legal obedience to the
master to civil law. Lucas cites this same passage of
Scripture in considering the same exceptions:
l
. . . First, [obedience] must be in j
all things, that is, all things that ;
are not repugnant to the Will of God, j
who is our supreme Master; or the Laws I
of the Land, which are stampt with an
Authority superior to that of their
Master in all things else. Servants
are not to dispute nor interpret, but
obey the Commands of their Master, for
they are not to answer for the
discretion or reasonableness of his
commands. (89-90)
Waugh echoes Lucas: servants must obey "in all things j
where you are at liberty either by the Laws of God, or
the Laws of the Land . . ." (14). Similarly, Lord Dun
supports "the Masters authority over their Servants;
and, as it is their right and privilege to command, so
106
it is the duty of the other to obey, in every thing
that is lawful" (224).
The author of The Servants Calling, however,
advises the servant not to stop at merely disobeying
an order that contradicts divine or national law; he
tells the servant to object to such an order:
Yet here it must be remark'd, that a
Servant may consistently with an
humble Mind, nay and is bound in
Conscience and as he would discharge
the Dictates of an honest Mind, to
enter his Protest when he is commanded
to do what is forbidden by another
Command of higher Nature and
Obligation; when he is commanded to do
Evil, and commit Sin: In which Case he
must offend Man rather than God, obey
the highest Command, run all Hazards
and suffer any Hardships in adhering
to his Duty. (Zinzano 13-14)
Again, we are given a glimpse of the servant as
evangelist, preaching Gospel this time to his
employer. Taken together, these exceptions to the
rule of obedience provide a significant background to
the many scenes in Pamela where the heroine disobeys
Mr. B in order to serve God, and delivers sermons to
her employer even as she fights him off. The deeper
significance— and subversiveness— of Zinzano's advice
to the servant to "enter his Protest" will become more
evident in the discussion on silence in Chapter 3.
107
Seaton devotes an entire chapter to the
discussion of exceptions to the law of obedience. His
concern is less with national law than with divine:
. . . [I]t may sometimes happen a
vicious Master may in some of his
Commands put [servants] upon what may
be sinful . . . It is therefore fit,
that we should not let these Words of
the Apostle escape us without those
proper Restrictions which he did
intend they should be guarded with,
lest an absolute yielding up to
himself to obey his Master in All
Things, may cause him to be
disobedient to God in Many Things,
whose Laws no Power on Earth has a
Right to controul, no Master can
dispense with him in a Disobedience
to. (40-41)
Thus Seaton reiterates a Pauline paradox: a departure
from the literal interpretation of Scripture in order
to fulfill its intention (see II Corinthians iii.6,
"For the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life").
On the following page, the chaplain restricts
obedience yet again to "all things, which are not
contrary to the Laws and Wills of God" (42).
Moreover, he lodges blame with the master who gives a
wicked command, not with the servant who obeys:
It were to be wish'd, that Masters
wou'd never require any Thing of their
Servants that was inconsistent with
the Answer of a good Conscience;
because the Guilt of the Sin, if it be
comply'd with, does in a great measure
Lye at their Door, as using that
108
Authority they are supposed to have
over their Servants .... (42)1
Specifically, "some of those Services which Masters
now and then expect that are sinful, and not to be
submitted to" include excessive drinking and telling a
lie on command— the conventional "not at home"
excepted, since it is understood in London to mean
"unavailable" (45). Servants are not to work during
the time set aside by religion and by law for worship
(68). But above all, servants must not assist their
masters in committing sinful acts:
Amongst the Things which a Servant is
not to do for his Master, and is an
Exception from that General Rule of,
Servants, obey your Masters in all
Things, we may reckon the Catering for
their Lusts, the vile and abject
Office of procuring a Mistress for
their Wantonness, or any such
abominable Task by which they become
necessarily the Instruments of sin,
and are meanly serviceable to the most
gross and foul Enormities of their
Master.
Shou'd the Servant be also put
. . . upon beating, or the doing an
Act of Cruelty to a Person known to be
poor, harmless and innocent; these are
Employments no Master has a Right to
exact from his Servant; because he is
chain'd up from yielding Obedience, by
the Laws of that Gospel, which enjoins
us, no longer to yield our Members
Servants unto Uncleanness, and to
Iniquity unto Iniquity; but to yield
them Servants to Righteousness unto
Holiness. Rom. vi. 19. (67-68)
109
Such a strict religious morality fits well with
Pamela's righteous condemnation of Mrs. Jewkes and
John the footman for their betrayal of an innocent
housemaid.
Seaton summarizes his advice in a general rule of
thumb,
which is, "That whenever he's
commanded to do what is plainly
forbidden, or forbidden to do what is
indispensably required by the plain
Voice of Reason, and Precepts of the
Gospel; he must not be then obedient
to his Master, for the Hopes of any
Good he can promise, or thro' Fear of
any Evil he can threaten; but must
freely forfeit the Views of the one,
and expose himself to the Terrors of
the other; leaving it to God to
support him in the faithful Adherence
to his Service above that of any other
Master . . . . " (69)
A harsh dictum. It gives the impression that servants
are a kind of monastic society; not only do they have
imposed on them (involuntary) vows of obedience,
poverty and chastity— and this in a Protestant
society— but they must be willing to risk chastisement
or unemployment for the sake of abstract principles of
morality. Such instruction curiously undermines the
pragmatic arguments for obedience by affirming higher,
more spiritual values, and by relocating
responsibility from the master to the servant.
110
Like Zinzano, Seaton expects the servant, when
commanded to sin by his master, to object. But he
must object politely:
But when it is the hard Lot of a
Servant to meet with a Master so
barbarously unreasonable, as to insist
upon having somewhat done, which
cannot be done with a good Conscience,
and there is no pleasing him on any
other Terms than the certain
Forfeiture of the Divine Favour, there
is still a Decency of Carriage to be
observ'd towards this unreasonable
Master for the sake of the superior
Relation he bears to Us ....
The Servant is first of all in this
unfortunate Case, with great Humility
and Submission to tell his Reasons,
which must hinder him from the doing
what he's bidden, and intreat him not
to require his Obedience in that Case
.... (43)
Interestingly, although the servant is here exerting a
higher morality than the master, socially he is still
the inferior; he must preach the Gospel with "Humility
and Submission," and "intreat" the master not to
insist on obedience. This is a far cry from Pamela's
impassioned refusals to comply with Mr. B's designs.
On the other hand, submissiveness is precisely what
the would-be rapist hopes for. Practically speaking,
Pamela's options cannot include Seaton's utter
humility.
Seaton proves himself to be naive when he
expresses the hope that such reluctant noncompliance
Ill
may inspire the master with a judicious admiration of
his virtuous servant:
And perhaps this Humble and Modest
Remonstrance, will cause the Command
given either entirely to drop . . . or
else it will cause his Master to seek
out a baser Instrument to execute it,
and yet not dismiss him from his
Service, but rather be more inclined
to retain and value the Servant, upon
whose Fidelity he has the best reason
to depend, as being one that makes a
Conscience of his Actions. (43-44)
This "perhaps" rests entirely on the presumption that
the master desires a trustworthy servant more than he
desires an obedient one, or that when brought to such
a crisis, the scales will drop from the master's eyes,
and he will be awakened to true religion by the honest
(but humble) disobedience of the good servant. Such a
fairy tale is of course the structure at the heart of
the novel Pamela. We do not know that Richardson read
Seaton's Conduct of Servants in Great Families, nor do
we know that he did not read it. What we can affirm
with certainty is that the idea of the religious
servant resisting and reforming the wicked master was
current in popular culture as much as twenty years
before the novel was written.
Seaton does consider the possibility that the
result will not benefit the servant:
112
If the Consequence to the Servant
is not like to be at the present thus
favourable, but he must be spurn'd at
with Scorn and Indignation . . . let
him not be discouraged, but still
persist to cleave to his Duty,
(carrying himself however not with a
saucy but humble and meek Deportment,
without railing and reviling,) and
God's Providence will be his sure
Support, which never wholly forsakes
such as depend upon him by a patient
continuance in well doing, tho' he
sometimes tries us a while in the
Furnace of Afflictions, that we may be
purified thereby, be Vessels more fit
for his Use, and find a more
honourable Place in the blissful
Tabernacles above. (43-44)
God chastiseth those whom he loveth. If the servant
suffers ill treatment for God's sake, then he is to
understand that he is thus marked as a favorite of
God— the servant as martyr for Christ, whether he
obeys or disobeys his master.
After the many arguments used to persuade the
servant to obey the master as God on earth, conduct
books often instruct servants that whatever pain they
suffer is not actually related to their inferior
position, but is in fact simply a part of the human
condition. Life is a Vale of Tears, in which
happiness is seldom glimpsed. . . [I]f Pleasure be
the lot of human Nature, it must lie in somewhat
beyond this life," warns Wilkes, in a published letter
S
I
to his niece (7). Regardless of one's station,
113
some uneasy Circumstance or other
mingles itself with all sublunary
Bliss; . . . In our gayest Flights
there is no Pleasure we can take that
is not mixt with some mortifying
Evils; but the Prospect that Eternity
sets before us is all serene and
peaceful, unclouded with Pain or
Sorrow. (23)
Lucas states in his introductory epistle that he
wishes to "persuade [servants] to Contentment, and a
faithful discharge of your Duty in your Place; for
' tis not the Nature of Service, but the Faults of
Servants, which render this state uneasie and
contemptible ..." (i-ii). He later explains that
"something every where must be borne with, and
therefore inure your selves betimes to Contentment in
the meanest Condition, without which you shall never
be happy in the best" (12). Bad-tempered masters,
says a prayer for servants composed by Seaton, are
simply part of "the Share of Afflictions, which is my
Portion of Bitterness I am destin'd to taste, that I
may not too much rejoice in the Pleasures I meet with
here" (196). This doctrine of endurance prefigures
Jane Eyre's experience at the "charitable,
evangelical" Lowood School, and echoes the strain of
contemntus mundi in medieval and Renaissance
Christianity.
114
Warnings to servants of the pains of servitude
are generally highly realistic and frank; the authors
abandon, at least temporarily, their idealized
portrait of the glory of suffering. Zinzano cautions
his readers that "Difficulties may be expected by
those that must be subject not only to the Good and
Gentle, but (as it may happen) even to the froward
Masters, who will sometimes punish 'em (though it be a
hard Case) even for doing Well" (11; quoting from I
Peter ii.18). Seaton also preaches patience:
Again, the Servant shou'd reflect upon
it as the common Lot of all Men to
meet with Perplexities to try their
Patience: There is no Condition of
Life free from somewhat or other
vexatious, to exercise this Virtue;
and they must therefore be contented,
if they now and then have from their
Master a grating harsh Expression, and
take it to be the proper Season to
exercise their Patience in. . . . let
them . . . make themselves easy,
remembring that Bitterness of Speech
hurts not the Person it is wrongfully
used against, so much as it does them
that use it; and that the Master is
more a Sufferer by it than his
Servant. (193)
This echoes the notion that the Christlike servant has
an unfair spiritual advantage over his merely human
and erring master.
115
Sometimes a different tack is taken, and the
point is made that the miseries of servitude are
common to all men, even members of the upper classes:
To be Servants is appointed to all
Men. It is the unavoidable Destiny of
every Person whatsoever. There is no
one so great. but is in some respects
a Minister. Whosoever is Chief is
very often obliged to be a Servant,
and whether he will or no to act the
Part of the Son of Man. who came in
that Form, and whose Errand was not so
much to receive Services from as to do
them for us, not to be ministred unto,
but to minister. . . .
To stand uncover'd, to wait the
Commands of another, to be turn'd out
of Place, to be taken in again, are
such Marks of being in Service, as
these [masters] and their Ancestors
have submitted to, and is not a Thing
peculiar to Us, that are received into
their Families, and live at their
Tables. (Seaton 13, 17)
"In some Sense we are all Servants, as being subject
to some Powers that are over us," echoes Zinzano (7).
Just as all men are servants of God, so are all
servants in the merely mundane sense, for there are
higher legal and social authorities for all members of
society, even lawmakers themselves. No one can escape
some form of servitude, runs the argument? why should
a footman or a cook be exempt from universal law?
But at times the exhortation to patient suffering
serves more explicitly political ends:
116
Let me advise thee to be contented,
and learn whien thou art well, and not
desire to be better than well. If
thou findest good treatment, let this
be considered as superior to any such
additional wages, as thou mightest
have the fortune to obtain. In thy
situation, as a very young woman, a
fondness for change can hardly fail to
produce mischief. (Hanway 153)
In short, the servant should stay put, if the
situation is adequate; bettering oneself is not to be
thought of; a desire for change of any sort tends
toward sinfulness. Even if a servant has achieved all
Christian virtues, writes Zinzano, "they will be of
little Use to himself or others, if he is of a roving
and unsettled Temper, moving about from Place to
Place, more like a Traveller than a Servant" (63).
This advice is clearly written in response to the many
complaints about servants who switch places frequently
to obtain higher wages or better perquisites. Hanway
expects servants to view the pains of servitude
philosophically:
Some masters have a propensity to
tyranny, and some servants are as much
inclined to insolence and
disobedience: but this proves nothing
more than that there are bad people in
all conditions, and that the good
ought to be the more careful and
vigilant in the exertion of those
social virtues, on which the general
benefit of mankind so much depends.
(143)
117
If your virtuous labor is taken advantage of, shrugs
Hanway, you ought to be the more virtuous and
industrious, because it benefits all mankind. The
patient suffering of vice in private thus leads to
public benefits.
And according to Hanway, servants should "beware
of impatience, lest thou shouldst make a pert reply,
and at once shew thyself ill-mannered and ungrateful.
and ruin thyself in [thy mistress's] favor" (151).
Not only must the servant not express his feelings of
resentment at ill-usage, he must strive not even to
feel such dangerous emotions. Lord Dun agrees:
"Servants are by no means to repine at their servile
condition; but, as it is allotted to them by God in
his providence, they are to submit thereto with
chearfulness and contentedness" (226). Most poignant
among these exhortations to endurance is found in The
House Servant1s Directory. by Robert Roberts (Second
edition, 182 8). This early nineteenth-century book
was "the first commercially published item by an
African-American."15 Given the plight of Black slaves
in America, Roberts's advice to hard-driven servants
is deeply moving:
. . . my young friends, you may
perhaps find a master or mistress who
may act unkindly and unjustly towards
118
you, as Laban did to Jacob his servant
and son-in-law; but if you do your
duty honestly and faithfully, depend
on it that you will be more happy in
your integrity than your employers can
be in their injustice; for it is much
better to be oppressed than to stand
in the place of the oppressor; for
patience is very acceptable in the
sight of God, and in due time will be
rewarded, because God hath promised
that it shall be so; and when have his
promises failed? (xi-xii)
In historical perspective, the modern reader may find
that such a statement makes a fault of virtue, and
encourages oppression by preaching its acceptance.
In Desire and Domestic Fiction, her study of
conduct books for women, Nancy Armstrong states; "The
idea that literacy offered the most efficient means
for shaping individuals was the raison d1 etre of
conduct books. This presupposition was inherent in
the genre from its beginnings in an earlier age"
(100). In light of eighteenth-century conduct books
for servants, with their emphasis on obedience and
submission to the divinely instituted social
hierarchy, one needs to consider as well the message
of such books as a non-literary medium.
One very simple message conveyed by the existence
of these books is that eighteenth-century servants
were literate— at least, enough of them were literate
to justify publishing and marketing conduct books for
119
servants. Books are not written for illiterate
people, any more than Braille is written for sighted
readers. The obvious exception is the primer, which
has as its purpose making illiterates literate; but
anyone who has read a line out of any eighteenth-
century servant conduct book knows that they are not
written in an elementary style. For the most part,
indeed, the style is sophisticated, even when the
content is condescending. The social background of
many servants would naturally have included the
ability to read and write:
As we have said, servants often came
of respectable middle-class families;
many could read, write and even spell
properly. Chesterfield, correcting
his son for two spelling mistakes,
says that they were "two faults of
which few of my housemaids would have
been guilty." One wonders how
Chesterfield knew what his housemaids'
spelling was like. It is improbable
that he corresponded with them.
Possibly he was arguing from the
general level of education in that
walk of life. (Bayne-Powell 137)16
Porter tells us that during the eighteenth
century literacy was gradually increasing: "Almost all
males from the middle class and above were literate,
but little more than half the population of labouring
men (women were proportionally less literate)" (167).
120
Nevertheless, the extent of English literacy amazed
foreign visitors:
De Saussure, for example, was amazed
that artisans— even, he believed,
shoe-blacks— lounged about browsing
the papers in London coffee houses.
Pastor Moritz found his London
landlady read Milton and other
literary classics: "The English
national authors are in all hands, and
read by all people, of which the
innumerable editions they have gone
through are a sufficient proof." (221)
Derek Jarrett has pointed out that "in Northumberland,
Thomas Bewick noted towards the end of the century
that ordinary labouring men were often more
intelligent and better read than the farmers for whom
they worked"; education in the southern part of
England, however, was not so extensive. In many
charity schools, children merely learned their
catechism and tables by rote In contrast to
Jarrett's bleak vision, however, is this account by
Schwartz: "The charity schools taught the beliefs of
the Church of England and provided some instruction in
reading, writing, and arithmetic (girls were often
taught sewing instead of mathematics)" (43). We may
conclude that at least some of the estimated 40,000
children attending charity schools at any given time
(Schwartz's estimate) received a decent elementary
education.
121
Some of the conduct books directly address the
issue of servant literacy. Macdonald includes in his
autobiography a detailed account of how he came to be
educated:
When the family [the household of
Mr. Hamilton] returned to Bargeny, I
had a great desire to learn to read,
and the servants gave me a lesson when
time permitted. Wherever I went, I
always took the spelling-book with me.
I thought that if once I could read
the bible, I should not go to hell.
(42)
This passage is noteworthy for two circumstances:
first, that the young John Macdonald receives his
initial instruction in reading from his fellow
servants, whose literacy is mentioned in passing as a
mere matter of fact, not as an anomaly; second, that
religious anxiety sparked his desire to learn to read.
The connection between salvation and literacy is a
common one, often cited by the founders of charity
schools as a reason or excuse for teaching the lower
classes to read.
Young John's desire for learning was observed by
his employers:
When Mr. Hamilton and Lady Anne
were informed that I was desirous to
learn to read, they put me to school,
as there was not much to do . . . In
the course of time, I got reading,
writing, and arithmetic: but the
122
coachman became jealous, and gave me a
flogging .... (47-48)
. . . Mr Scott the clerk of the
parish . . . was school-master where I
went to learn. He had all the
children in the parish both high and
low. He taught English, Latin, and
Greek. He kept an usher; and a woman
for the girls. His income was greater
than the parson's of the parish. He
had a boy to teach those that were in
the spelling-book. He taught his
first scholars the short-hand writing.
He wrote the sermon every Sunday in
church, and taught the gentlemen's
sons to do the same. (56)
The fact that Mr. Hamilton and Lady Anne took an
interest in the young postilion's ambitions was not as
rare as it might seem. Hecht mentions that many
employers took their role as protector of servants
seriously; besides morning and evening family prayers,
some masters and mistresses considered literacy a
necessary foundation for Christian piety:
. . . Lady Fermanagh also exposed her
domestics to religious literature,
although she seems to have let them do
their own reading. Writing to her
husband in London, she asks him to
send down four copies of A Week's
Preparation to the Sacrament. "They
are for the servants," she says. . . .
The education of domestics, too,
might receive the attention of
employers. The Rev. William Cole, for
example, sent his footboy "to Schole
to Wm. Chenils for Writing & Accounts"
in 1766; and the following year he
"spoke to the Schole Master, Mr Spain,
for both . . . Servants to learn of
him." The footboy attended from nine \
i
123
to twelve in the morning and again
from three to four in the afternoon;
the footman went from six to eight in
the evening. Similarly, in 1776 the
Rev. Woodforde arranged to have his
footman taught to read and write,
agreeing to pay for the lessons at the
rate of 4s. 6d. per quarter. The
interest and indulgence shown by Cole
and Woodforde were not characteristic
of clergymen alone. John Baker, a
lawyer, undertook to teach one of his
maids himself. It was his practice to
have her read aloud to him in the
evening; and, by way of encouragement,
he gave her small sums whenever her
performance was particularly good.
But it was probably more usual to
entrust the task of instruction to
professional teachers. Dr. Claver
Morris sent one of his maids to the
local dame school to learn to read.
. . . Edward Coke likewise had a
teacher for his footmen. (99-100)
Lord Dun, indeed, demands that employers educate their
servants:
It frequently happens amongst
Servants, that many of them are
ignorant from the want of the
necessary means of instruction, before
they enter into service.
With respect to such, it is a duty
incumbent on Masters to provide them
with all helps and means of spiritual
instruction; to them that can read, to
put into their hands proper books
suited to their capacity, and fit for
enlightening their ignorant and dark
minds . . . such as cannot read, if
they are not past the time of
learning, it were good to teach them
it; but, if otherwise, there should be
one appointed to read to them ....
(218)
124
Such an attitude is in keeping with Lord Dun's
benevolent aristocracy. He does not explain in detail
what "the time of learning" is; perhaps once
adolescence ended, illiterates were believed to be
permanently dependent on the learning of others.
Porter also mentions "'Bridging' processes, such as
reading out loud to others" (167).18
Informed devotion is most often given to servants
as the primary reason for learning how to read.
Waugh, in his St. Bartholomew's Day sermon, includes
reading Scripture as a fundamental part of the
servant's duty:
First. You must be careful above all
Things, to discharge your Duty to God
. . . And to preserve and maintain
those Impressions of God and Religion,
. . . be sure to read the Holy Bible,
especially such Portions of it as are
most plain and practical, and other
pious and profitable Books of
Devotion. Keep constant to your
private Prayers, at least Morning and
Evening; and to the publick Worship,
as you have opportunity, especially on
the Lord's-Day, and other solemn
times; and behave yourselves there
with all the Decency and Seriousness
you can, conformably to those great
conceptions you have of the infinite
Majesty you are before. (12-13)
Waugh could hardly have categorized reading the Bible
as a "duty" if servants were unable to accomplish it.
It has been often observed that Protestantism, with
125
its insistence on making the Bible available in the
vernacular, made literacy a part of salvation. That
this was widely true in eighteenth-century England is
obvious. Hanway, in his persona as "Farmer Trueman,"
advises his daughter Mary:
We are commanded to read the
scriptures. and for the same reason,
obliged to teach our children to read:
if all of us were so taught, no one
could pretend to be above laborious
employments, for we should know from
the word of God, that labour is the
condition of human life. . . . The
great end of learning, my dear Mary,
"is to know God, and out of that
knowledge to love and obey him." . . .
Such wisdom will avail us, when all
the learning that our superiors can
boast of, if not applied to the same
purposes, or made a bad use of, will
leave them in a much worse condition
than if they had remained in the
grossest ignorance? (165-66)
Here literacy is legitimized as a means of learning
humility. Noteworthy also is Hanway's declaration
that it is the duty of parents to educate their
children.
Lucas, in his first chapter ("Of Preparation for
Service"), says that parents who can make no other
provision for their children should educate them— if
they can't afford expensive professional instruction,
they should at least educate them in piety and
126
humility (3-4). However, by asserting the Bible as
the only standard of virtue, he presumes literacy:
I will begin with Reading the Word.
The Book of God is a Legacy of that
value, containing not only the Wisdom
of God, but the ravishing expression
of his Love too, and in a word, the
only way to Life and Immortality, that
no one can be guilty of the neglect of
it, but at the same time, he must be
guilty of the most ingrateful Contempt
of God . . . This Therefore is the
Book which the Servant must endeavour
to be familiarly acquainted with; with
some portion of this he should begin
the Morning, and close the Evening.
(46-47)
It seems safe to conclude that Lucas expects servants
to be able to read the Good Book. For additional
reading, he recommends the Catechism, readily
available in the Book of Common Prayer.
Besides the Bible and prayer book, some conduct
books advise servants on assembling a basic library.
Sarah Savage, the American writer, suggests servants
begin with a Bible and hymn-book, and then progress to
a dictionary, tracts or "large books" which provide
innocent entertainment, with Law's Serious Call.
Baxter's Saint's Rest, and similar books for serious
reading (30-31). In addition, she recommends that
servants memorize the sixth chapter of Paul's letter
to the Ephesians ("Servants, be obedient to your
127
Masters"). The Female Servant’s Adviser, published a
few years previously (1819?), declares that
The books which a servant ought to
supply herself with, are not many or
costly. The following are excellent
and of easy purchase:— Melmoth's
Importance of a Religious Life,
Mason’s Self-knowledge, Doddridge's
Rise and Progress of Religion in the
Soul, Jones's and Bickersteth's
Scripture Directory, and Watkins's
Sunday School Tracts, or Kitchen
Library. . . .
In the necessary knowledge of life,
I cannot recommend you a better or a
cheaper book than the Rev. David
Williams's Grammar, taught rationally,
not learned by rote, and the Servant's
Self-instructor in Arithmetic,
Geography, Accounts, &c. . . . [and]
the Rev. Percy Baldwin's Elements of
Popular Knowledge. (14-15)19
Watkins, the London clergyman, says that "A Bible, and
a few plain practical and devotional books should be
placed on an appropriate shelf in every kitchen; that
the servants' ability to read may not be lost, but
improved . . .," thus suggesting that most servants
were at least functionally literate when they entered
employment (32-33). Madam Johnson, who believes that
female education should consist first of "virtue
(i.e., virginity)," second of modesty, and so on down
the list of virtues, recommends acquiring a speller,
useful for its proverbs and exercises, and a
128
collection of Familiar Letters, a genre with which all
students of Richardson will be acquainted.
But besides the religious content of such
reading, there were other moral benefits to be gained
by literacy. The Female Servant's Adviser warns maids
Be always well employed, "not slothful
in business" (Rom. Chap. 12, ver. 11),
nor of an indolent habit, for Satan
constantly puts some mischievous work
into idle hands; always, therefore,
keep yourself employed, either in the
service of your master and mistress,
or in your leisure time in cultivating
your mind and improving your
understanding in reading good and
useful books; for as Solomon says,
"among your gettings, get
understanding." By such employment
you will be providing yourself with a
safeguard from doing any thing amiss,
and an antidote against the
irksomeness of confinement, and the
hankering of getting leave to go out.
The great bane and misfortune of young
women in service, is not being
sufficiently occupied, and not having
their minds and hearts properly stored
and fortified with good and useful
instruction in morality, religion, and
necessary knowledge. (14-15)
No doubt many employers were happy to have servants
keep themselves busy by reading rather than, say,
pocketing the silver.
For some servants, though, simple religious
literacy was not enough, despite Hanway's warning
against extending skills too far;
129
However necessary reading may be to
learn our duty to our maker, and
occasionally to employ our hearts
agreeably to his will, as contained in
the holy scriptures, the same cannot
be said of writing. It seems
reasonable, in our rank and condition,
that women should be taught to write
rather than men . . . [because wives
can tend to accounts and records in a
tradesman-husband's shop]. (166)
I
!
This strange blend of class conservatism and gender !
liberalism indicates the problematic nature of I
t
literacy for a subordinate class. Even if servants !
are given conduct books that preach obedience, j
I
literacy itself makes them more independent, more
likely to question the limitations placed on them by
law and custom. But for the servant who wished to
rise socially— even if only amidst the servant
hierarchy — more extensive learning was requisite.
"If you desire to be a Waiting-Gentlewoman to a Person j
of Honour or Quality," says Hannah Woolley, in The
Compleat Servant-Maid, "you must,
1. Learn to Dress well. ,
2. Preserve well. j
3. Write well a legible hand, good ;
Language and good English. .
4. Have some skill in Arithmetick. |
5. Carve well. (9) ;
i
Of course, all these skills can only be learned "if
i
you carefully and diligently peruse this Book, and
observe the Directions therein given" (6). The book ;
130
later explains how to make a pen, how to hold it
properly, how to sit to write, how to write both Roman
and Italian hands, and how to add and subtract.
Without actually instructing his readers, Heasel
describes "The necessary Qualifications of a Lady's
Maid":
As the servant under the above
character is obliged to be near her
lady, it is necessary that none
pretend to be properly qualified for
it, unless their education has been
something above the ordinary rank of
other women? for she will not only be
obliged to do some fine pieces of
needle-work, but also to read at
proper times the best authors. (69-70)
Hanway himself advises his "daughter Mary" to
Enquire of those who can teach thee
the best and exactest method in
accounts. Method is of such
importance, in accounts, that it
stands next in rank, to the fairness
and justness of them: and the more
plain and easy these are to be read
and understood, the more wilt thou be
recommended to greater trust, and
acquit thyself with the more honour.
(145-46)
Madam Johnson says that a good maid-servant ought not
only to know how to read, but how to write neatly and
legibly, how to keep accounts, and how to keep a
diary— these are her primary requirements. Secondary
are such skills as spending money judiciously, cookery
and confectionery, carving, and careful marketing.
131
In the novel, Pamela's able literacy is explained
in part by the fact that her parents are reduced in
circumstances; clearly, they have in the past lived
higher on the social ladder than when the novel opens.
Both John and Elizabeth Andrews are literate? Pamela
addresses letters to both her father and mother
(individually and together), and receives letters
signed either by her father alone or by both parents.
(Perhaps her mother can read, but cannot write.)
Moreover, in her first letter, Pamela mentions that
her late mistress, Lady B, "had put me to write and
cast accompts, and made me a little expert at my
Needle, and other Qualifications above my Degree"
(25). Mr. B inspects Pamela's writing, observing,
"you write a very pretty Hand, and spell tolerably
too"; as a result, he gives her the freedom of his
late mother's library (26). Later on, we are made
aware that Pamela has, through the indulgence of her
late mistress, virtually received the education of a
lady;
I have been brought up wrong, as
Matters stand. For, you know, my
Lady, now with God, lov'd Singing and
Dancing; and, as she would have it I
had a Voice, she made me learn both;
and often and often has she made me
sing her an innocent Song, and a good
Psalm too, and dance before her. And
I must learn to flower and draw too,
132
and to work fine Work with my Needle
.... (77)
Reading, Writing, and 'Rithmetic are appropriate for a
lady's maid; singing, dancing, drawing and fine
needlework evidently are not.
Interestingly, a "bootleg" called The Life of
Pamela devotes a fair amount of time to explaining the
servant-girl's upbringing and education. To begin
with, John Andrews is depicted as a devout and
virtuous gentleman-farmer who lost his fortune in the
South Sea Bubble (1-2). Left penniless, "He who had
lived so well himself was doubtless a fit Person to
instruct others, therefore he was advised, by some of
his Friends, to undertake a little School" (3). This
background, of course, gives Pamela the class standing
she lacks in Richardson's novel. After she is sent to
assist Lady Belmour (the name assigned the B family),
she favorably impresses her employer, who "said, Since
she read so prettily, and handled her Needle so well,
she would have her learn to Write . . . She made a
surprizing Progress both with her Pen and her Needle"
(13) .
Both Richardson's novel and the bootleg seem to
regard some degree of literacy as normal for a poor
servant-girl, but both draw the line at more advanced
133
accomplishments. We do not know who composed the
imitation Life; but it is noteworthy that, whereas
Richardson extends normal servant literacy to include
writing and accounting, the unknown author of the
bootleg feels called upon to explain in more detail
these basic accomplishments. Richardson, by contrast,
takes the trouble to explain in detail only Pamela 's
more ornamental accomplishments. One is tempted to
speculate that a self-made man like Richardson would
be likely to regard such skills as well within the
grasp of a working-class girl; the more conservative
unknown, who must justify Pamela's rise by explaining
it away (she was no servant, but the daughter of a
gentleman), seems nevertheless to feel called upon to
justify the normal literacy of a servant.
Male domestics are also told that literacy will
help them rise. In an apparent departure from his
earlier advice to servants humbly to submit to the
divine Will in placing them so far down in the social
order, Seaton opines that
It is methinks, a pitiful, short,
and cramp'd kind of View, for a Man
never once to propose to rise higher
than a Footman or a Valet, and wou'd
argue Him to have neither Spirit nor
Capacity for any Thing above them.
. . . I wou'd therefore by all
Means advise the Gentlemens Servant,
whatever waste Hours he has, when he
134
has first employ'd as much of them as
are necessary to the important Concern
of his soul's everlasting Interest, to
bestow the rest upon . . . commendable
Knowledge and Skill .... (163)
Another double message: servants were expected to be
obedient and humble, resigned to their destiny; yet
only a worm would be satisfied with such a lot.
More understandable, because directed to
apprentices hopeful of one day being shopowners
themselves, is Barnard's advice on appropriate
recreations:
. . . Among which Reading is to be
rank'd the First, as not only the most
innocent, but justly to be esteem'd
both useful, and laudable. In those
Leisure Hours, therefore, . . . Let
Books be your Companions. Not such as
are merely Amusement, . . . or
distract the Mind with wrangling
Altercations, as Controversy; but
History, especially that of your own
Country; Travels, I mean such as are
to be depended upon: Morals, some
little Law, and authentick Tracts on
the British Constitution. (32)
The fiercely non-partisan Barnard ("I charge you upon
my Blessing to wear the Badge of no Party whatever")
believes the young apprentice should "... In your
own Defence then, and even to preserve yourself from
the Falacies of interested Men, make yourself
acquainted with the History of the British
Constitution" (75). Perhaps because he had been Lord
135
Mayor of London, Barnard seems to have been
preoccupied with political and legal matters; he
instructs his son to
. . . write with the utmost
Deliberation, seldom without taking
Copies, and never without reading what
you have written twice or thrice over.
Letters are generally preserv'd, and
thence are always at Hand as a Sort of
Evidence against you. You cannot,
therefore, write too cautiously; I
will not say ambiguously, . . . In a
Word, write so, as not to deceive
others, or expose yourself; with all
the Subtlety of the Serpent, but the
Innocence of the Dove. (53)
These instructions move beyond simple literacy to a
cautious consideration of the legal consequences of
writing. The coachman-author of The Second Table also
warns his audience of the dangerous consequences of
both illiteracy and innumeracy. In recounting what
must have been all too common a tale of underservants
cheated by their superiors, he explains that a steward
may fake a bill for the footman's service, adding or
deleting expenses to his own advantage:
You can neither read nor write; he
produces your Receipt, wrote by him;
and your Mark to it; you are glad to
receive the Remainder, and though at
the same Time you know you are robbed
of Half a Guinea, dare not murmur for
fear you should lose your Place. (31-
32)
Talcing a slightly different tack, Lucas appeals
to class pride (nascent snobbery?) in delineating some
other consequences of illiteracy. The servant's
personality will suffer in proportion as he is
ignorant: "A proud and peevish Temper is generally the
symptom of a foolish understanding; a low birth, & a
lower Education: For the wiser any man is, the better
born, and the better bred, the more courteous and the
more humble he is . . . " (177). Again, advice to
servants seems to collapse upon itself through
internal contradictions; just as servants must be
humble yet proud, so must these members of the lower
classes give evidence of their good breeding through
humility and courtesy. This simultaneously inverts
and upholds the notion that the upright heart is the
source of true gentility.
Despite the many spiritual and material
advantages to literacy, however, it was not without
its dangers. In particular, imaginative literature
was considered hazardous. Barnard instructs the young
apprentice to avoid reading books "such as are merely
Amusement, . . . such as Romances, or deal too much
with the Imagination, as Poetry, and Plays" (32).
Wilkes warns his Young Lady that "Novels, Plays,
Romances, Poems" are to be read "sparingly and with
137
Caution" (78). Watkins solemnly warns that "Many
novels from the circulating library, most sadly
ensnare and dissipate the minds of servants" (33).
And Kenrick, in his Whole Duty of a Woman, entirely
forbids the reading of romance:
Delight not in the romantic tales
of love; the triumphant beauty and the
captive knight are deluding images to
thy passions.
A fictitious tale, may awaken a
real curiosity, and that may prove
fatal to thy peace. (65)
Not only, then, are novels condemned because they
awaken sensuality, but because they stimulate both
curiosity and imagination.
Most interesting, however, is the specific reason
presented by The Female Servant's Adviser (1819?) for
rejecting fiction:
In recommending reading, however, I
must caution you, in the words of a
contemporary writer, "against such
books as would not only take up your
time unprofitably, but might also tend
to corrupt your principles, inflame
your worst passions, and make you
dissatisfied with your condition. I
mean novels, tales, and romances,
which have led many a girl to ruin, by
drawing fanciful pictures of love and
adventures, such as never could have
happened. If you wish to be happy,
avoid all such; for they will only
fill your fancy with vain images, and
make you hopelessly wish for
miraculous events that never can
happen; for it is not once in a
hundred years that a rich squire will
138
fall in love with, and marry his
servant, though it happens every day
that they will pretend love till the
unsuspecting maid is caught in the
snare and ruined for life. The
reading of novels and tales, I am
quite certain, is usually the
forerunner of all such misfortunes."
Thus is Pamela condemned.
Having explored the general themes of obedience and
humility as they are presented in conduct books for
servants, and considered servant literacy, we shall
now examine two specific requirements for servants
commanded in many conduct books: the exhortations to
chastity and to silence. Chapter 3 will take up these
admonitions, both of which are crucial to an
understanding of Pamela as a servant.
139
NOTES
1 Among the few recent studies of conduct books
for servants are: Laura A. Curtis, "A Case Study of
Defoe's Domestic Conduct Manuals Suggested by The
Family. Sex and Marriage in England. 1500-1800."
Studies in Eiqhteenth-Centurv Culture, vol. 10, ed.
Harry C. Payne (Madison: University of Wisconsin
Press, 1981); and Janice Thaddeus, Swift's Directions
to Servants and the Reader as Eavesdropper," Studies
in Eiqhteenth-Centurv Culture, vol. 16, ed. O M Brack,
Jr. (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1986).
2 Although some authors of conduct books for
servants emphasize different virtues, or group those
virtues under different headings, many of the
distinctions are ultimately artificial. For example,
one author may choose obedience as the virtue most
necessary in a good domestic, and another may choose
honesty or fidelity; but all discussions are aimed at
persuading the servant to respect his betters, to stay
in his place, and in short to emulate Christ in his
position as servant.
3 See also Seaton:
. . . your Condition as Servants is
no less by an Appointment from above
than any other Condition whatever, and
you will (without a Faithful Discharge
of your duty in it, as that Duty is
deliver'd in the Word of Truth) be
rejected hereafter, as having been
wanting in a very necessary Branch of
your Christian Obligation .... (7-
8)
and Zinzano:
. . . the first Part of my Advice to
[servants] is, frequently to recollect
what they have been taught, to fix it
in their Minds, and recur to it on all
Occasions, because a good Christian
will strive to do his Duty under every
Relation: If a Servant, he will
behave, as one that must answer for
his Behaviour, not only to Man but
140
God, who had declared it a Breach of
Duty to himself, whenever Servants
shall be wanting in their Obedience to
earthly Masters .... (10)
4 After calling on servants first to obey God,
Waugh states that "Though your Duty to your Heavenly
Master be the first and great Commandment; yet the
Second is like to it. the Duty you owe to your Masters
according to the Flesh" (13-14). This is an
interesting departure from Christ's command to his
followers first to love God, and second to "love thy
neighbor as thyself." It would seem that the good
Rector of St. Peter's Cornhill was not above taking
liberties with Holy Writ in the cause of social
control.
5 Pride was, of course, considered to be the
fundamental sin against God? see Pope, Essay on Man.
I. 123-130:
In Pride, in reas'ning Pride, our error lies;
All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies.
Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes,
Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods.
Aspiring to be Gods, if Angels fell,
Aspiring to be Angels, Men rebel;
And who but wishes to invert the laws
Of ORDER, sins agianst th' Eternal Cause.
For a scholarly discussion of pride in religion and in
modern European literature, see Donald Greene, "The
Sin of Pride: A Sketch for a Literary Exploration,"
New Mexico Quarterly 34 (1964): 8-30.
6 For other examples of conduct books
establishing a connection between obedience to God and
obedience to social authority, see Zinzano:
. . . the same Singleness of Heart,
which is due to God, is made a Duty to
Man who is so apt to be deceived. For
'tis said, Servants be obedient to
them that are vour Masters according
to the Flesh, in Singleness of Heart,
as unto Christ; knowing that
whatsoever good thing a Man doth, the
same shall he receive of the Lord,
whether he be bond or free. (47-48)
141
And see also Seaton, chapters 1 and 6:
Whatever then be the Choice which
Heaven has made, it is our Part to
have an Eye to the particular Duties
incumbent upon us in the Sphere we
move, and trace out the several Lines,
which the Scriptures have chalk'd out
as peculiar to our Station. (4)
He must look upon his Service to be
God's special Appointment; and that he
expects him to give an Account of
himself for his Behaviour in it,
according to the Gospel of Christ: He
shou'd therefore ever act with a View
to the discharging of a good
Conscience in his Place: Every Thing
he does for his Master on Earth, he's
to do it as in Obedience to his Master
in Heaven; whose Providence has
appointed him to act with
Faithfulness, not the Part of a
Master, but a Servant; not of a
Freeman, but a Bond. (82)
7 Similarly, Richard Lucas writes in his
introductory epistle that he wishes to teach servants
how to make themselves comfortable in their
subordinate position:
But this is not the utmost of mv
design. I would make you Happy and
Glorious hereafter. I would make vou
the Children, the Heirs of God, and
Jovnt-Heirs with christ. though the
Servants of Men: I would deliver vou
from the Bondage of Sin and Satan, and
make vou partakers of the true Liberty
of the Sons of God
— none of which can happen, he says, unless the
servant is virtuous and conscientious; for
I must deal faithfully with you, no
man can be a good Christian, who is
not good in that station wherein God
has placed him: You cannot then be
142
Obedient Servants of God, unless vou
be Faithful Servants of Men ....
(iii)
8 Cf. Seaton’s DISCOURSE II, "Being a Persuasive
to the Servant to frequent the Holy Communion11:
Another Duty, by fulfilling which the
Servant wou'd adorn the Doctrine of
God our Saviour, is the frequent
receiving the Holy Communion. This
being one of the solemnest Acts of our
Religion, and that which the
Professors of the Gospel do not
ordinarily join in without good
Preparation and Seriousness; it will
argue the Servant to have a very
commendable Sense of Religion, and a
Desire to acquit himself as a
Christian indeed before God, that does
by an Examination of his life, and by
all the other Methods of Preparation
for that Holy Table, which the pious
Treatises upon this Subject direct,
prepare himself for a worthy receiving
of those holy Elements. (226)
It is not clear to me what eighteenth-century writers
meant by "frequent" Communion; taking the sacrament
weekly or monthly, as is the custom in many twentieth-
century congregations, seems to have been regarded as
tantamount to Papistry. Samuel Johnson, regarded by
most scholars as an exemplary Anglican, seems to have
taken Communion only once or twice a year, at
Christmas and Easter, although he attended church
services much more frequently.
9 Servants were even exhorted to regular
religious observance by means of their resemblance to
Christ: Seaton, in urging servants to commune
frequently, asks,
And wou'd it not in truth be a Shame
for the Servant, above all other
Christians, to refuse to come to the
Lord's Supper? For does not he
remember that it was the Form of a
Servant, which Jesus submitted to
take? That he chose a condition of
Life to appear amongst us in, not
superior to that of his? . . . Being
therefore thus in a Servant's Form, he
has done Honour to a Servant's
Condition . . . this methinks shou'd
engage the Servant especially to
remember his Life, his Death, the
Circumstances of his Sufferings, the
End for which he suffered, the
glorious State of Liberty the Servant
is recovered to by means thereof; a
liberty from the Power and Dominion,
and Punishment of Sin, a Privilege of
being Coheir of the same Heavenly
Inheritance with his Master. (227)
10 For example, Oliver Grey writes:
I have but a very few years to live,
and, remembering the good advice and
excellent example of my first master,
am every day preparing myself for that
place where there is neither servant
nor master, and where those who are
now first may be last. (27)
11 Lucas makes a similar statement. Servants
have fewer temptations than their betters,
. . . so that upon the whole, I may
conclude, that the Servant who lives
in any Course of Vice, is of all Sots
the most desperate; he breaks through
more restraints to commit sin; he runs
more hazards to be damned than any
other man whatever; he sets his Soul
at a viler Rate than any other Mortal,
and rather than not be ruin'd and be
damn'd; he will be both without
Temptation, and without Pleasure: Ah
infatuated wretch! that will be
miserable in despight of God and
Fortune too! (35)
The servant's reward in heaven will be greater than
his master's if he is a good and obedient Christian;
but if he succumbs to temptations, his punishment will
be the greater.
144
12 Primarily, however, Fleetwood espouses the
more traditional compensatory version of conservative
religion:
. . . God promises Rewards in another
Life to the faithful and religious
Dischargers of their Duties here, that
will make amends for what is denied
them here by Men’s Unresonableness
[sic] or Malice, their Ingratitude or
their great Wickedness; so that no one
need to be discourag'd now, as though
his Labours would be in vain. Good
subjects may have lawless Governours,
and good Children unnatural Parents,
and good Wives unkind and faithless
Husbands, and good Servants hard and
unreasonable Masters: And so on the
other hand, these several Superiours
may have their corresponding
Inferiours all as naught: But the Good
of Mankind requires that all these
mutual Duties should be well
perform'd; and yet . . .all these
Duties would not be perform'd, unless
Men had a hopeful Prospect of some
Recompence, somewhere or other, to
excite them to discharge them, and
support them whilst so doing. (308-
09)
13 Among these authors, only Seaton seems to have
been seriously concerned at the dual message. He
spends several pages carefully explaining that
egalitarianism is not his underlying message:
But to the avoiding all Mistakes, and
to prevent any such shocking
Imagination from arising, as if the
Servant was on this Account upon the
same level with his Master; it is
proper to observe to you, that such a
Conclusion wou'd be very Unjust; for
tho' the several Masters of Families,
are in some sort as Servants to them
they give Wages to, yet it does not
follow but there may be Servants of a
different Rank and Class. (18)
145
. . . but yet they [our masters] do
not, because themselves are Servants,
cease to be Lords and Masters over us;
nor do we come to be on the same Level
with them; but their Superiority and
our Subjection still continues. (19)
[from a prayer concerning SERVICE]
. . . my consideration that all Men
are Servants, shall never infatuate me
to think, that they are therefore
equal, as if the Servants whom thy
Providence has invested with Dominion,
with Riches, with Honour, were not to
be respected and serv'd by those whom
that same Providence has pointed out
as Persons which are to respect and
serve .... (22-23)
14 See also Fleetwood, 273-74;
The Authority of Masters over Servants
is very useful to the Good and Order
of Mankind, and to the Welfare of the
World; and accounted so reasonable,
that a great many small Offences are
excus'd in Servants, under Authority,
and acting by Command, because they
are under some Constraint and Awe, and
because a great many Inconveniencies
would follow upon the scrupulous
Dispute of Servants, weighing and
examining the Orders and Injunctions
of their Masters. But this can only
be understood in Things indifferent,
or in Matters wholly above the
Capacity of Servants: In all such
Cases Submission and Obedience best
becomes them; but where the Case is
plain and evident, and the Execution
of the Command must certainly be
hurtful to them, as opposing some
Command of God, there they must needs
dispute and disobey; There no Body
excuses them for acting by Authority,
for no one has Authority against
Justice, Honesty or Truth; and there
is no Capacity too mean to understand
their moral Duties, that is sufficient
146
to deliberate, and to execute Designs
that overthrow them. (273-74)
15 According to a handwritten note inside the
cover of the second edition at the Beinecke Library,
Yale University.
16 For a discussion of the class origins of many
servants, see chapter 1 above.
17 Zinzano's dedicatory epistle is addressed to
"the Trustees for Managing the Charity-Schools:
Gentlemen.
Though many Servants in their
Minority through the Care of good
Parents or Relations. have had a right
Education in a private Way; yet the
Benefits of this Kind, have been
wonderfully extended bv the Liberality
of Persons, who commiserating the Care
of Children not so well taken Care of.
have supplied this Defect bv
constituting and maintaining so many
Seminaries for teaching 'em, that it
is not difficult to get Admittance for
such as want to wear the Livery of
Charity, and together with some
preparatory Qualifications for
Business, learn the Rudiments of
Religion. That these might not want
farther means of Instruction as they
proceed, and are placed out into the
World. I have prepared this little
manual of moral Duties suitable to
their more advanced Age, and Condition
of Life, to be grafted on their
Beginnings in such a Manner, as to be
a Continuation of the first Design.
(3-4)
"I Q # , ,
Wilkes provides for his Young Lady
instructions on reading aloud. He explains that each
punctuation requires a pause of a certain length: for
a comma, pause "as long as you may deliberately say
'one1"; for a semicolon, pause for a count of "one,
two"; for a colon, "one, two, three"; for a period,
"one, two, three, four"; for a "point of
interrogation" (question mark), "raise the voice and
147
stop for three," and for a "point of admiration"
(exclamation point), the same (73-74).
19 Wilkes, in his Letter . . . to a Young Lady,"
advises that she read the Bible regularly, daily from
the New Testament, and the lives of pious persons,
such as Socrates, Epaminondas, Zeno, Phocion, and
Plutarch's Lives. He also recommends studying the
morals and reasonings of the ancient philosophers
(Plato, Socrates, Seneca, Pythagoras, Demosthenes,
Cicero, Epictetus). A well-bred lady should speak
purely and well; English is far more important than
either French or Italian. She should study natural
philosophy, although for women, husbandry, planting,
and herb and flower gardening will suffice.
For her reading, he recommends the Spectators
and Guardians. Telemachus. the Travels of Cyrus; such
Belles Lettres as Fontanell's Plurality of Worlds.
Boileau, Pascal, and Voiture's Letters. This reading,
he says, will give her "safe and sublime
entertainment," as well as modeling good style.
Moreover, she should not neglect History, Geography,
Cosmography, and Chronology. He particularly calls
Bailey's Dictionary to her attention as a reference
book. (73-78)
Reading this list should give the modern-day
student pause; if this was the sort of "light"
learning usually recommended for the weaker sex, one
trembles to think what gentlemen considered to be a
thorough educat i on.
Chapter 3
Chastity and Silence
Modesty banishes every thing that
is indecent and uncomely in the Looks,
Words, Carriage, or Behaviour, that
would make any one troublesome in
company . . . (Wilkes, A Letter of
Genteel and Moral Advice to a Young
Lady, 1744, 57-58).
0 my daughter, I now declare to
thee, in the awful presence of the
God, whom I adore, I had rather see
the blood stream from thy bosom, than
behold thee, in the arms, even of a
King, on any terms but an honourable
marriage . . . (Jonas Hanway, Advice
from Farmer Trueman, to his Daughter
Marv. Upon her Going to Service. 1792,
186) .
Obedience for servants involved more than mere
compliance with orders from superiors, however
diligently and humbly undertaken, more than mere piety
and regular attendance at church. Obedience was
construed, by various authors, to include a host of
specific subsidiary virtues.
Before examining the two subsidiary virtues which
were most important to the eighteenth century, those
that produce the greatest resonance for analyzing
Pamela, we should first consider several of these
lesser virtues? to do so will clarify the
"constellation" method by which the writers of
eighteenth-century conduct books for servants
organized many virtues around the central virtue of
obedience.
Defoe, for example, strongly recommends
temperance as a primary virtue in Letter III of The
Great Law of Subordination; drunkenness, he says, is
the "Mother Sin" which leads to other sins, such as
profanity, even among ladies, "murther" and suicide,
and, worst of all, whoring (59ff). Zinzano, in his
list of servant duties, says that "The Fourth Duty [of
a servant] is Sobriety, which is not only a great
Virtue, but a Security to all other Virtues, and most
necessary in Servants" (55).1 Drinking, says
Broughton, renders men "odious," "but in Women it is
still more abominable, and particularly because it
robbeth them of shame and reason, which are the
guardians of their chastity" (21).
Temperance was not restricted in meaning to the
consumption of liquor, but was sometimes applied to
food, as in Hanway:
Temperance, Mary, is the friend to
reason, the companion of religion, the
child of virtue, and the parent of
health.
150
. . . But when servants are dainty,
and not contented with common food,
they betray their depraved
inclinations, and become a nuisance to
a family. (160)
Zinzano even blames pride on servants' being fed too
rich a diet:
. . . 'tis observable that those that
come from hard Fare to full Feeding,
generally change their Tempers with
their Diet: The Alteration of their
Food gives 'em an encrease of Blood
and Spirits; and that inflames the
Mind, and elevates it too much; so
that Pride and Fulness of Bread
commonly go together, and are
mentioned by the Prophet Ezekiel. as
Part of the Iniquity of Sodom, xvi.
48. (19)
Intemperance, then, is no mere venial sin, but may
lead the unwary servant into the heinous "iniquity of
Sodom." Much of the discourse on sin and virtue aimed
at servants is similarly exaggerated.
Some authors, sensitive to complaints about
dishonest or thieving servants, strove to recommend
honesty. Hanway asserts that "In regard to honesty
thou canst not be too scrupulously strict," (45) and
Waugh combines honesty with fidelity:
It is required in Servants, that they
be found faithful to their Masters.
First. In their Words, speaking the
Truth, and using plainness and
sincerity in what they say. This is a
Property absolutely necessary in a
Servant, because Lying and Falshood
destroys all that Security and
151
Confidence that his Master ought to
have in him . . . Secondly. It is
required in Servants, that they be
faithful in their Actions; that is,
exactly just and provident in all
those things which are entrusted to
them to manage and improve. (16-17)
This passage is a perfect example of the way the
authors of conduct books for servants frequently
cluster an entire group of virtues around a central
principle. Neither honesty nor fidelity exists alone,
but are both part of an interrelated system of
virtues.
For some authors, diligence is the chief virtue;
Hannah Woolley's The Compleat Servant-Maid instructs
the maid who wishes to succeed to "endeavour carefully
to please your Lady, Master or Mistress; be faithful,
diligent and submissive to them, incline not to sloth,
or laze in Bed, but rise early in a Morning" (7).
Zinzano claims that diligence will render the servant
a virtual Superman;
I shall, Fifthly, recommend Diligence,
which not only shuts out
[temptations], but perfects every Duty
of a Servant. The very Name of
Servant implies Action, and the
Offices of his Place suppose it. He
is to move at Command, and be doing
what he is bid; . . . Diligence
doubles the Action . . . His natural
Powers seem increased by his
Assiduity, and he has two right Hands
instead of one; Nay, he seems to be in
many Places at once. (58)
152
Broughton, like Waugh, combines fidelity and honesty
with frugality and a warning against fraud:
The principal duty required in
Servants is Faithfulness: which
consists in your being strictly iust
and honest in your service: Not
wasting your Master's goods, as the
unjust Steward in the gospel, whether
by carelessness or ill management, or
by taking a part to your own use
without his knowledge and leave.
There are various ways of tricking and
defrauding, too common among Servants:
If you have any of these devices,
beware; for you know not where even
little tricks and frauds will at
length carry you. (7-8)
This passage echoes Zinzano's warning that small vices
may lead to grave crimes; the idea seems to be that
carelessness or minor errors can destroy the servant
by gradually wearing down his resistance to sin.
After recommending four chief virtues— piety,
obedience to earthly masters, faithfulness and
diligence— Waugh adds a host of auxiliary excellences:
These are the Principal Duties of
Servants and Apprentices: to which the
rest, which I can but just mention,
are reducible. Such are Contentment in
their Condition, Humility, Meekness,
Patience, Sobriety, Faithfulness in
keeping their Master's Secrets,
promoting his Interest, vindicating
his Reputation, and defending his
Person, as occasion serves, and so far
as it is in their Power. (22)
It is worth noticing that these many virtues are,
according to Waugh, "reducible" to his four primary
153
virtues. For example, humility could be-categorized
under both piety and obedience; patience ditto;
sobriety could be found under both piety and
faithfulness; and promoting the master's interest
would doubtless be a branch of diligence. After one
has read a number of conduct books, it becomes clear
that such divisions and categories are fluid.
Generally the same specific virtues are mentioned, but
they are clumped together in a variety of ways.
One reason, besides social control and
maintenance of the status quo, for the heavy emphasis
on servant virtue seems to have been the desire for
masters to safeguard their own reputations. Evidently
servants' behavior was construed as a sign of employer
virtue, as children's behavior is believed to reflect
upon their parents:
. . . Servants who in Discharge of
their Trust would truly maintain the
Honour of their Masters, must take
care first to secure some Reputation
to themselves, by avoiding those Vices
that are always Infamous; such as
Drunkenness, prophane Cursing and
Swearing, Lewdness, and the like. For
if they make themselves thus
scandalous, . . . 'Twill be supposed
good Order and Discipline, or good
Example are wanting where such Vices
are unpunished: 'Twill be supposed the
Master has not that just Abhorrence of
them he ought, or that he is guilty of
them himself, when he can endure them
in those about him. (Zinzano 42)
154
The morality of servants was taken, then-, as evidence
of the morals of the master. It is perhaps the
essence of external social forms that they be
understood as necessarily expressing the internal
state of mind; but in this situation, the behavior of
one set of individuals is interpreted as expressing
the state of mind of another group. Both masters and
servants must have suffered for each others' sins; if
the conduct books are accurate, each group seems to
have regarded the other as immoral.
Most of the many specific and subsidiary virtues
required of servants are derived from the primary rule
of obedience both to divine law and to human custom.
The two most intriguing in this broad category are
chastity and silence, with occasional exploration of
the subtle link between the two. Both virtues were of
almost sacramental importance, "outward and visible
signs of inward spiritual grace," as the Catechism has
it, and were interpreted as objective evidence not
only that one was a good servant, but also that one
was virtuous and obedient generally. Virtue was
understood to be both an internal, spiritual state and
the external manifestation of that state, an unbroken
continuum between private and public reality.
155
Fielding, in Shamela. mocked Richardson's one
dimensional equation of virtue with virginity, but
given some of the advice given to servants— especially
to female servants— Richardson seems to have been in
line with this particular message of his culture.2 It
is almost impossible to exaggerate the importance of
chastity for a woman in the eighteenth century:
Chastity is the next Virtue [after
piety] that is to fall under your
Consideration; no charm can supply its
Place; without it Beauty is unlovely,
Wit is mean and wanton, Quality
contemptible, and Good-breeding
worthless. She who forfeits her
Chastity, withers by degrees into
Scorn and Contrition . . . It is not
only an Ornament, but also a Guard to
Virtue. This is the great Point of
female Honour, and the least Slip in a
Woman1s Honour is never to be
recover'd. . . . Chastity is a kind of
quick and delicate Feeling in the
Soul, which makes her shrink and
withdraw herself from every thing that
is wanton, or has Danger in it. . . .
(Wilkes 55-56)
This is not to say that servants were expected to be
chaste, but they were certainly told often enough that
they should be virgins until honorably married. As
always, biblical precedent for servant virtue was
cited, usually the story of Joseph in the house of
Potiphar.
The story in Genesis xxix says that after Joseph
was sold as a slave to the Egyptian Potiphar, his
156
master's wife took a fancy to him and tried to seduce
him. But Joseph refused: "And it came to pass, as she
spake to Joseph day by day, that he hearkened not unto
Her, to lie by Her, or to be with Her" (Gen. xxix.10).
Seaton devotes his Chapter XI, "Purity of Life
recommended," to applying Joseph's conduct to that of
the modern servant. Seaton begins by rejecting the
possibility that a lady could make sexual advances:
But the Circumstances of his Case
are so very rarely like to happen.
. . . The very Thought of any
Temptation of this Kind coming from
the Mistress of an House is exceeding
shocking and unnatural; . . . Whatever
Instructions therefore do naturally
occur upon this Head, I shall apply to
a Case much more possible . . . (14 3)
One would like to know what Seaton's reaction to Lady
Booby would have been. But it may be that, even for
Fielding, oversexed female monsters, like hopelessly
naive serving-men, were only appropriate for satire.3
It seems evident that a large part of Fielding's joke
was derived from the oxymoronic situation of a
virtuous— and virginal— footman pursued by a lustful—
and class-unconscious— lady.
That great families might very well present
temptations to poor or naive servants was acknowledged
by Lucas:
Secondly, you must resolutely arm your
self against, and carefully resist the
Temptations of the Family you are in;
let not the Authority of great
examples delude or deceive thee; let
not any prospect of Interest insnare
thee; let not the solicitations of thy
fellow Servants perswade thee; let no
opportunity betray thee into sin; for
thou dost purchase thy profit or the
favour of man at too dear a rate, if
by the loss of thy Virtue, thy Soul,
thy Heaven, thy God; Never be ashamed
of singularity, where thou canst not
be virtuous unless singular . . . for
thou mayest assure thy self, that
Virtue is never more honourable than
when it stands the shock of
Temptations, and despises the
allurements of Opportunity ....
(185-86)
Despite the many times that servants are taught to
obey, to conform to external rule, they are expected
to metamorphose into nonconformists in the name of
virtue. This passage, with its recommendation "never
[to] be ashamed of singularity," echoes Seaton's
warning that the pious servant may face ridicule from
the household (see above discussion in Chapter 2).
One method for avoiding temptation was to stay
busy. The Female Servant's Adviser, citing St. Paul,
advocates diligence as a technique for resisting the
impulse to sin:
Be always well employed, "not slothful
in business" (Rom. Chap. 12, ver. 11),
nor of an indolent habit, for Satan
constantly puts some mischievous work
into idle hands; always, therefore,
158
keep yourself employed, either in the
service of your master and mistress,
or in your leisure time in cultivating
your mind and improving your
understanding in reading good and
useful books; for as Solomon says,
"among your gettings, get
understanding." By such employment
you will be providing yourself with a
safeguard from doing any thing amiss,
and an antidote against the
irksomeness of confinement, and the
hankering of getting leave to go out.
The great bane and misfortune of young
women in service, is not being
sufficiently occupied, and not having
their minds and hearts properly stored
and fortified with good and useful
instruction in morality, religion, and
necessary knowledge. (14-15)
But as we have seen, the duties of housemaids were
extensive and burdensome; it seems unlikely that they
themselves would have complained of "not being
sufficiently occupied." The Adviser is quick to point
out, in a footnote beneath this passage, that "good
and useful books" do not include "novels, tales, and
romances," which are condemned as dangerous
temptations to modesty.
Admonitions to women to preserve virtue through
busyness are not, however, aimed solely at domestics.
In The Art of Governing a Wife, gentlemen are
instructed to keep their wives busy with household
duties as a preventive measure:
It is also wholsome Advice, that
married Women should understand all
159
that belongs to the government of a
House, as Baking, Brewing, Dressing of
Meat, Cleaning the House, and the like
. . . Let a Lady be never so great, so
noble, or so rich, a Needle becomes
her as well as a Sword does a
Gentleman, or the Surplice a Priest.
. . . the Honour of a Lady does not
consist in sitting still, but in being
well employed. If Women would work at
home, we should not see so many
debauched about the Streets; for there
is no so mortal Enemy to Chastity as
Idleness. (34)
"To be always employed," the author later adds, "is a
great Step toward being virtuous; and on the contrary,
a Woman that is idle, is always studying Mischief"
(3 6). This attitude is very different from the
exhortations to men to work diligently or to study;
male servants are expected to work towards the goal of
bettering themselves, either becoming journeymen and
masters, as Barnard's apprentice could hope to do, or
rising from postilion to de facto steward, as did John
Macdonald. But women servants, and in fact women of
all classes, are expected to keep busy simply to keep
out of trouble; no promise of betterment in any
practical sense is suggested.4 Female characters even
of the upper classes are frequently portrayed in
novels as being constantly busy with sewing,
embroidery or other decorative busywork. It is clear,
from the examples still extant, that this fictional
160
device was firmly rooted in historical reality.5 Few
ladies would have had time to seduce their footmen—
which, no doubt, was the result intended by the cult
of busywork.
After dismissing the possibility that male
servants may be seduced by their mistresses, Seaton
addresses a more likely situation: "I shall therefore
consider the Master of any House to be the Person,
from whom any Overtures to Uncleanness are more likely
to be made to those of the other Sex, who are his
Domestick Servants":
It will sometimes happen that a Master
of a great House is Young, and Wanton,
and Bold, and Rakish; freely resigning
himself up to the Steerage of his
Lusts, and not scrupling to gratify
them, wherever any Nourishment is
administered to keep them alive.
Then perhaps those in his Family
may expect to be sometime or other in
danger of unhandsome Solicitations, as
being nearest, when he happens to be
under the Disorder of any wanton
Fervours. (144)
Mark that the master, however wanton and rakish, will
only gratify his lusts "wherever any Nourishment is
administered to keep them alive." In other words, the
loss of her chastity is ultimately the fault of the
woman, who must have been busily administering
nourishment to vice, or it wouldn't have sprung up in
the first place. And even if he is in part at fault,
161
the master is given the excuse of temporary insanity:
"under the Disorder of . . . wanton Fervours." It is
unlikely that such an excuse would enable an illicitly
pregnant housemaid to keep her position.
Serving-women must learn to protect themselves by
recognizing when Master is in the mood:
It cannot be hard for the Women
that are always in the Family, to
discern when he's in this Humour, and
to contrive not to be where he may
probably come, so long as it is like
to last: If sought for by Him they
must conceal themselves; if found,
they must cry out against any
treatment that is very Rude and
Shocking; and absolutely refuse to
submit to any base and filthy
Overtures. Shou'd these fooleries be
frequent in their returns, they must
by all Means quit the Service, however
profitable; and not expose themselves
to the Chance of being surprized in an
unguarded Hour, when Reason is not
sufficiently Awake, and their
Resolutions too Feeble to withstand a
very great Importunity; because when
it is considered as coming from One,
whom there is naturally a Tenderness
in disobeying, it may find a readier
Submission, than it otherwise wou'd.
(144-45)
It is not clear exactly how an inferior could "refuse
to submit" to an encroachment on her person; surely
asking a woman in a marginal income group to quit
service rather than submit sexually is asking a great
deal. In some way, the serving-woman is expected to
have more "Reason" at hand than does her more powerful
162
and better educated employer. All in all, this
passage is not a bad working definition of sexual
harassment as it is currently understood. And the
passage illuminates the degree to which Pamela is a
phenomenon of virtue simply by fulfilling her era's
definition of virtue.
In his next paragraph, Seaton gets to the root of
the matter, so far as eighteenth-century moral codes
are concerned:
But then Secondly, let the Woman
see to it that this Danger is not in a
good Degree owing to her self; for if
she by any Wantonness of Behaviour, or
Looseness and Immodesty in Dress,
takes a Pride in being viewed with
Admiration, and bewitching the Hearts
of the Unwary, she her self lays the
Stumbling Block in their Way. And if
she shou'd happen to be at length a
Sufferer by that impure Fire which was
of her own Kindling, she is
principally to be blamed; her own
Folly having easily produced these
evil Consequences; which perhaps wou'd
never have happen'd, if by a decent
Deportment and Modesty of Dress, she
had prevented any Occasion being given
to Others to fix upon Her, when they
were idly disposed. (145-46)
From our point of view, this is a clear case of
blaming the victim. But it is important to recall
that the interpretation of the seduced or raped
housemaid as innocent victim was only beginning to be
articulated in the eighteenth century. Pamela was not
163
published for another twenty years after Seaton's
Conduct of Servants in Great Families; over a century
later, in David Copperfield. Dickens was still only
tentatively making the argument that the lower-class
woman wronged by a gentleman was more sinned against
than sinning. And Dickens was regarded as
progressive.
However, this is a fruitful passage. Seaton
specifies that the woman is to blame for "any
Wantonness of Behaviour, or Looseness and Immodesty in
Dress," if she "takes a Pride in being viewed with
Admiration" and attempts to kindle the fire of lust.
Woolley's The Comoleat Servant-Maid reminds its
audience "not [to use] any wanton gesture, which may
give Gentlemen any occasion to suspect you of Levity;
and so court you to Debauchery, and by that means lose
a Reputation irrecover[a]ble" (9). According to the
morality of the time, it would seem, wanton gestures,
or being suspected of levity, straightforwardly
advertise to local rakes that one is available for
sexual conquest. These rules of female conduct were
applied to all levels of society, not merely to
servants; they are part of the code of modesty, which
seems to have been interpreted as direct, if external,
proof of female chastity: "... Chastity is so
164
essential and natural to your Sex, that every
Declination from it is a proportionable receding from
Womanhood. An immodest Woman is a kind of Monster
distorted from its proper Form" (55-57). This
attitude, expressed by Wilkes, exactly reflects
Pamela’s. Some skeptical modern readers of
Richardson's novel may believe Pamela to be
neurotically preoccupied with her virtue; but if this
is neurosis, it seems not to have been peculiar either
to Pamela or to her creator, but to have been a
widespread cultural phenomenon. Moreover, note that
for Wilkes the loss to an unchaste woman is not merely
an abstract loss of honor or of virtue, but the loss
of her womanhood— indeed, of her humanity itself. She
simply loses her identity in society, and ceases to
exist in recognizable human form— a formidable threat,
that, in an era preceding modern psychotherapy with
its attendant relativism about human identity. She
has, in fact, departed from the species; according to
such reasoning, to treat such a creature inhumanely is
no more than she deserves, for she has let lapse her
membership in homo sapiens.
Kenrick similarly paints any decline from perfect
chastity as disastrous:
165
Wouldst thou be honoured of thy
Creator, wouldst thou be happy in
thyself, wouldst thou be lovely in the
eye of man; without chastity thou wilt
be neither of these.
For its loss is the loss of peace
and satisfaction to thy soul; and the
consequences too often the worst that
can befal thee. (38)
Small errors lead to large ones, for women as for
servants: "As the ladder descendeth by degrees, so
many are the intermediate steps between the modesty of
the virgin and the boldness of a prostitute," warns
Kenrick (64). Hanway's Farmer cautions his daughter
likewise that the path to disgrace proceeds downward
in small steps:
In all conditions, remember that
Christianity [sic] requires nothing at
our hands more clearly, or in a
stronger manner, than chastity or
purity: and this consists in a fixed
abhorrence of all forbidden sensual
indulgence: in a resolute guard over
our thoughts and passions: in a firm
abstinence from the most distant
occasions of lust and wantonness: in a
consciousness, or deep sense of the
perfect holiness of God, and of his
being present every where. . . . if
this is conquered, all is lost! (181-
82)
Contrast this with the code of Fielding's exuberant
male heroes— or the rake Mr. B— whose sins may cause
trouble, but for whom trouble consists in merely a
delay of happiness, not its utter loss.
166
The "fixed abhorrence" of sensuality extended
into every realm of existence. Farmer Trueman later
explains the connection between cleanliness and
chastity:
Dirt and filthiness fall within the
observation of every one; but neatness
and cleanliness, like comeliness in
person, is a silent recommendation.
These are to the body, what purity is
to the soul. . . .
The decent and cleanly carry with
them a presumptive proof of a virtuous
disposition. Industry is generally the
companion of cleanliness. . . . A
slovenly good servant, of either sex,
is a contradiction. (157)
Cleanliness of body, then, is by the end of the
century a sort of badge of virtue, in conduct books to
be rivalled in importance only by the manner in which
clothing is worn. The equation here established
between clean body and pure soul illustrates the
"presumptive proof" of virtue; the notion that a
virtuous person might be dirty, or that a wicked one
might wear clean clothes, seems not to occur to
Hanway.
Another way of objecting to sensual indulgence
can be found in Defoe's objections to overdressed
servants, which had primarily to do with the need, as
his narrator saw it, to distinguish clearly between
167
social ranks. zinzano follows this pattern in his
advice to servants:
Another Way of preventing the Pride
beforementioned, is a Modesty in
Dress: For one great Cause as well as
Effect of Pride in Servants is a
Fondness of being fine, or a Desire of
appearing in a Habit above their
Degree; a Folly very frequent in
female Servants, who think to
recommend themselves by such an
Outside: the immediate Effect of which
is, that their Heads are turned with
Self-Admiration, and fill'd with
Notions of their Advancement. . . . To
prevent which Vanity, so inconsistent
with their Station, and so ridiculous
in itself, they should strictly
confine themselves to the Habit of
their Degree, and avoid all
Ostentation of Apparel . . . Duty and
Neatness are sufficient Ornaments for
Servants, and always best become 'em
. . . (21)
Modesty becomes in this passage not only a guard
against pride, but a restraint against social chaos.
Several authors go further, however, and proclaim
that modest dress for women is another sign of
chastity. Their cautions clearly indicate an
underlying belief that clothes themselves carried the
potential to stain virginity:
My present Design is to caution you
against all Levities of Dress,
Carriage or Conversation, that may
taint or blemish the Purity of the
Mind. . . . If the various Arts of
Dress serve to draw the amorous
Wishes, and to gratify the Passions of
lewd People, such Females are greatly
168
to be condemn'd as use these Arts in
Dress and Beauty, that may probably
betray weak Minds into such dangerous
Offences. . . . How then can that
Dress be modest and innocent, that
invites to Temptation, that kindles
loose Passions in other People, or
that seduces unwary Eyes to sin? That
Girl who endeavours by the Artifice of
Dress to attract the Admiration, to
stir up languishing Desires, and to
provoke the wanton Wishes of her gay
Beholders, is as guilty of breaking
the Seventh Commandment, as the Woman
in the Gospel that was taken in the
Fact. (57-58)
Wilkes places quite a heavy burden of responsibility
on the woman, expecting her to be on guard against
"weak Minds," no doubt suffering from Seaton's
"Disorder of . . . wanton Fervours." More striking,
perhaps, is that Wilkes has directed his book "to a
Young Lady," the "Girl" of the preceding paragraph.
If in eighteenth-century England "levity" of dress was
considered sufficiently powerful to "taint or blemish
the Purity of the Mind," then perhaps young girls were
considered to be fair game, if they were so depraved
as to wish to appear attractive. The rather grim
parallel between the woman taken in adultery (John
viii) , whose life was spared by Jesus's reminder that
her judges were not sinless, and the sad plight of the
eighteenth-century woman, whose sins of sensuality
were considered monstrous and therefore unforgivable,
169
provides a sobering context for Pamela1s sometimes
hysterical reactions to Mr. B's designs.
Some conduct books for servants combine both the
messages to servants about pride and the general
message to women about the connection between clothing
and chastity:
Beware of dressing above your rank
or station. Shun herein that foolish
affectation of imitating your
superiors, whom Providence hath placed
in a higher state of life, and what is
allowable in them, will in you be the
subject of laughter and ridicule.
Appear always as neat and clean as
possible, but avoid the use of gawdy
or fantastical ornaments; or putting
on your clothes, which are made for a
decent covering, in such a manner as
to expose your person; for this will
be wearing the attire of an Harlot,
and all sober people will suppose you
do it with a design to allure and
entrap the men. (Broughton 21-22)
Hanway, however, outdoes Broughton in histrionics,
perhaps because his fiction of the Farmer's advice to
his daughter allows for more emotional discourse:
I charge thee likewise, as thou
lovest thy soul, not to indulge any
desire of being gaudily attired. If
thou shouldest feel thine heart
incline to this vanity, get thyself
cured of it, as a disease, which if
neglected will prove mortal. Childish
as this passion is, I know that it
hath been the ruin of thousands, and
it may tempt thee . . . From the
moment thou fixest thy fancy on
dressing like a gentlewoman, I shall
tremble, lest thy destruction should
be at hand. What has been the fate of
those who seek the trappings of folly
as the wages of iniquity? What
numbers of young women, without any
other inclination to wickedness, have
been undone by the immoderate love of
dress and pastime. (181)
No doubt the pragmatic connection between finery and
defloration was economic: a poor servant girl's
resistance could be overcome by a gentleman if he gave
her presents, satisfying her vanity with fine clothes
which she could never have purchased for herself. And
yet it is curious that none of the discussions in
conduct books explore the very real economics
underlying the ruin of young women; instead, the girls
are dramatically taught that the love of finery will
lead in and of itself to a loss of modesty and virtue.
Clothing, then, takes on an emblematic dimension far
exceeding sumptuary codes, for clothing has come to
represent not just one's material or social status,
but— for servants, at least— one's physiological
virginity, and therefore, one's spiritual state.
Fancy clothes render one1s virginity doubtful.
In this context, the much-studied scene where
Pamela renounces the finery she has worn at B Hall for
the simpler garb of a peasant girl resonates strongly.
Pamela has separated her clothing into three bundles,
and is consulting Mrs. Jervis about their disposition:
Why then the Case is this: I am to
enter upon a Point of Equity and
Conscience, Mrs. Jervis. and I must
beg, if you love me, you'd let me have
my own Way. Those Things there of my
Lady's, I can have no claim to, so as
to take them away; for she gave them
me, supposing I was to wear them in
her Service, and to do Credit to her
bountiful Heart. But since I am to be
turn'd away, you know, I cannot wear
them at my poor Father's; for I should
bring all the little Village upon my
Back: And so I resolve not to have
them.
Then, Mrs. Jervis. said I, I have
far less Rights to these of my worthy
Master's. For you see what was his
Intention in giving them to me. So
they were to be the Price of my Shame,
and if I could make use of them, I
should think I should never prosper
with them; and besides, you know, Mrs.
Jervis, if I would not do the good
Gentleman's Work, why should I take
his Wages? So in Conscience, in
Honour, in every thing, I have nothing
to say to thee, thou second wicked
Bundle!
But, said I, come to my Arms, my
dear third Parcel, the Companion of my
Poverty, and the Witness of my
Honesty; and may I never deserve the
least Rag that is contained in thee,
when I forfeit a title to that
Innocence that I hope will ever be the
Pride of my Life; and then I am sure
it will be my highest Comfort at my
Death, when all the Riches and Pomps
of the World will be worse than the
vilest Rags that can be worn by
Beggars! And so I hugg'd my third
Bundle.— (79-80)
In part, then, Pamela is here demonstrating the
practical application of the conduct books' advice to
172
serving-women about borrowed finery; the clothing in
her third bundle has been almost entirely purchased
with her own, honestly-earned money, and she has
herself made many of the garments. To be sure, as
Carey McIntosh points out, Pamela's clothes carry both
social and sexual meaning.6 But when this scene is
read in the light of conduct books for servants, its
moral significance, manifesting the connection between
plain clothes and chastity, becomes clear: they were
understood to be directly and causally linked.7
The sexual double standard for women, especially
those of the working classes, the codes of modesty and
chastity, the tendency to equate external behavior
with internal virtue, all are familiar to students of
eighteenth- and nineteenth-century culture. Less
well-known is the code of silence imposed on women and
servants. Eighteenth-century conduct books for
servants frequently include exhortations to servants
to be silent unless required by their masters to
speak. Silence is interpreted as a sign both of
humility and of obedience, and talkativeness—
particularly pert or rebellious discourse— is
condemned heartily.
Biblical authority again comes into play, St.
Paul's Epistle to Titus being the standard text cited:
173
"Exhort servants to be obedient unto their own
masters, and to please them well in all things; not
answering again" (Titus ii.9). Seaton sermonizes at
length upon this short passage, beginning with a
condemnation of servant pride;
There are perhaps no kind of
Transgressions which Men are apter to
fall into, and are therefore more hard
to be restrained, than those of the
Tongue; . . . no Ebbs of Fortune, or
Vileness of Parentage, or Scantiness
of Knowledge, can sink [a servant] to
such a Pitch of Humility, but there
will be always a little Tincture of
Pride left remaining; that Flesh and
Blood is apt to rise in its own
Defense, and express some Indignation
at . . . severe opprobrious Names.
. . . tho' his Master is not at all to
be vindicated, yet it is by no means
the Servant's Part to return Reviling
for Reviling, or to chastise the
Trespasses of his Master's Tongue, by
lashing him with the Scourges of his
own.
So far is this from being
allowable, that even in a Case, when
the Master falsly [sic] lays somewhat
to his Servant's Charge, or suspects
him to be blameable, without any real
Grounds; he is not always to take the
Freedom to vindicate himself
immediately, and to thwart and
contradict his Master, to the raising
his Anger higher, tho' it be a Debt he
owes to himself, to wipe off all
Aspersions that may unjustly stain his
Reputation. For he is even in such a
Case to let the vindication of his
Innocence rest a while, till he finds
his Master in a better Disposition to
hear it, and is free from the
Influence of any disorderly Passion.
And then when such a Season is found.
174
he is to use it with Modesty and
Sobriety, showing himself free from
Blame, in a Language humble and
becoming, not with Flouts and
Reproaches for having been wrongfully
thought in Fault . . . (183-85)
Seaton's comment raises several issues. First, there
is his combined condemnation of pride ("there will be
always a little Tincture of Pride left remaining") and
his paradoxical appeal to self-regard ("no Ebbs of
fortune, or Vileness of parentage, or Scantiness of
Knowledge, can sink [a servant] to such a Pitch of
Humility"). Only inappropriate displays of pride can
truly degrade the servant. The message that any
servant with an ounce of pride will not humiliate
himself by indulging in unwarranted displays of pride
repeats the self-contradictory pattern already seen in
many conduct books for servants. "Flesh and Blood"
must be controlled so that the servant does not return
the master's "severe opprobrious Names"; as usual, it
is the part of the good Christian— that is, the
servant— to turn the other cheek.
Seaton takes his point to the extreme, however,
when he argues that the servant must refrain from
defending himself when accused, even when the
accusation is groundless. Self-justification for a
servant is a "Freedom," an overstepping of bounds.
175
Such self-defense may provoke the master's temper,
leading to— what? we are not told specifically. Yet
the unnamed threat is the more unnerving. In any
case, whether the consequence is violence or loss of
situation, the servant is to wait until the master is
in a better mood, and only then "with Modesty and
Sobriety," "in a Language humble and becoming" may the
servant gently sue for justice.8 Woolley recommends
that the servant "never [answer] again when [the
mistress] taketh occasion to reprove you, but
endeavour to mitigate her anger with pacifying words"
(56). It may be that there was some practical value
to such suggestions; Barnard comments that "not
Rhetorick has more Force than a sweet, and gentle
Deportment . . ." (p. 44). Perhaps the authors
intended to help the servant win his master's favor
through meekness. Nevertheless, the employer doesn't
come off well. Richardson's portrait of the
irrationally angry Mr. B is reminiscent of the
wrathful God of the Old Testament. Pamela has just
asked B, her new husband, to direct his anger at her
rather than at Lady Davers:
May I, sir, said I, beg all your
Anger on myself, and to be reconciled
to your good sister? Presuming
Pamela! reply'd he, and made me start,
art thou then so hardy, so well able
176
to sustain a Displeasure which, of all
things, I expected, from thy Affection
and thy Tenderness, thou wouldst have
wished to avoid?— Now, said he, and
took my Hand, and, as it were, tost it
from him, begone from my Presence, and
reflect upon what you have said to me!
X was so frighted, for then I saw
he took amiss what I said, that I took
hold of his Knees, as he was turning
from me, and I said, Forgive me, good
Sir; you see I am not so hardy! I
cannot bear your Displeasure! And was
ready to sink. (359)
Admittedly, Pamela and B are still in transition from
the master-servant relationship to the more intimate
one of marriage, but even Pamela recognizes that his
temper is harsh; later on, listing the lessons she has
learned from his outburst, she mentions "6. That I
must bear with him, even when I find him in the wrong.
This is a little hard, as the Case mav be!" (370). It
may be that fear of such arbitrary injustice helped to
keep servants in awe of, and thus obedient to, their
employers:
The better to enable him to follow
this [rule], of refraining from any
Indecency of Language; he shou'd
remember always the inferior Relation
he stands in, and the distance of the
Characters between his master and
Himself . . . But even suppose the
Master's language was more hard than
was to be justify'd, the same however
from his Servant to him, is just by so
much more criminal, by how much more
he is inferior to him, the . . .
greater the Degree of Respect and
Deference is which he owes him on that
Account. . . .
But if after all, he finds himself
so overcome with Passion, as to be
provoked to return any indecent
Language to his Master, let him rather
flee from his Presence, than stay till
his ruffled Mind has discharged all
the grievous Invectives it is big
withal, and not venture himself into
his Master's View, till by all the
Force of Reason he has safely guarded
his Tongue, and set a Watch upon the
Door of his Lips. For there is
somewhat so unnatural and shocking in
an Inferior's spurning at one above
him, in a Servant's answering him that
Protects, and Feeds, and Cloaths him,
that he cannot too much guard against
this fault . . . (Seaton 191, 194-95)
Again, the servant is held to a higher standard of
conduct than is the master. In the prayer "For the
Government of our Words" with which Seaton's chapter
concludes, the servant asks God to "keep my Mouth, as
it were with a Bridle" (293). If the lower classes,
even metaphorically, are to be envisioned as animals
requiring bridles, then it seems unfair to require of
them that, by force of superior reason, they "set a
Watch upon the Door of" their lips.9 Logic suggests
that one is either a brute or a rational being, not
both. Moreover, such commands diametrically oppose
the command given to serving-women to "cry out against
any [sexual] treatment that is very Rude and Shocking"
178
(Seaton 145)— even though both male and female
servants are told to hide from unjust masters.
Zinzano, like Seaton, discourses extensively on
the issue of silence. After listing two primary
duties of servants, "Singleness of Heart, or
Sincerity," and "Affection or good Will towards a
Master," he identifies the third duty as "Government
of the Tongue, which with Respect to a Servant
consists,
1. In not answering again.
2. In speaking as becomes him" (52):
St. Paul, in his Charge to Titus.
bids him exhort Servants to be
obedient to their Masters. and to
please them well in all Things, not
answering again. So that the Way to
be obedient, and to please, is not to
answer again: Which not answering
again is to be understood in
Opposition to the rude Answers that
are often made by Servants when found
fault with, or reproved: for being
willing to think themselves innocent,
or unwilling to own themselves guilty,
they deny or defend what they have
done, and supposing themselves
injured, begin to accuse in their
Turn, and take such Freedoms of Speech
as confound Order and destroy
Authority, adding Fuel to the
Contention, and lengthening it out to
the great Disquiet of the Family where
it begins; which had easily been
prevented by not answering again.
Some Faults will not bear a Defence,
and then 'tis provoking to make one:
Even an innocent Servant would do well
to defer his Defence for a Time, and
j
wait for a properer Season to explain
Things, because the Anger of a
Superior, if it meets with no
Resistance, spends its self in the
first Sally, and then cools. (53)
This passage begins with some syllogistic hocus-pocus;
whereas Paul appears to be citing "not answering
again" as an example, or a single instance, of how
servants may please their masters, Zinzano defines
silence as the sum total of obedience: "the Way to be
obedient, and to please, is not to answer again." On
its surface, this seems silly, as if a silent but idle
servant would fulfill St. Paul's command. Otherwise,
Zinzano's advice echoes Seaton's, admonishing servants
not to talk back when accused of misdemeanors, except
that he seems to presume guilt rather than innocence
on the part of the servant, and to focus more on the
disruption of the family than on the discomfort of the
servant.
But Zinzano goes further with his metaphysics
than does Seaton; according to Zinzano, a freely
speaking servant endangers not merely one family, but
universal social order:
When a Servant is to speak, it must
be, Secondly. As becomes him, that is,
with Modesty and Regard to the
relation he stands in, expressing all
due Respect, and giving all proper
Titles to his Master or Mistress. He
must forbear giving Advice unask'd, or
1
180
interposing when he is not spoken to;
his Speech must not be noisy or
tedious, bold or familiar, for
otherwise the Character of a Superior
cannot be preserved, and due
Discipline kept up. St. Paul exhorts
Servants to be obedient to their
Masters with Fear and Trembling. But
how inconsistent with Fear and
Trembling is that Liberty of Speech
which levels each Condition,
confounding the highest with the
lowest? A Liberty of Behaviour will
soon follow such Licence of the
Tongue. And a Master will almost fear
and tremble, especially at the Oaths
and Curses of some audacious Wretches
who have gotten such a Habit of this
Profaneness, as not to forbear it in
his Presence. Such Domesticks (for
'twould be improper to call them
Servants) are only fit to act the
Saturnalia. which with the Romans were
Feasts in Honour of Saturn, celebrated
in Opposition to all Distinction of
Place, at which, the more a Master was
insulted, and made servile, the more
it answered the Institution. This
Madness lasted but five Days; tho' in
some Families the Saturnalia last the
Year round: And are so well perform'd,
that 'tis difficult to know who is
Master. For when the Servant has
committed the Fault, the Master is
reviled for daring to speak of it.
This Heathen Way of serving, nay, this
more than Heathen Way, (as it lasts
longer) makes vain all Profession of
Christianity; for though one seemeth
to be religious, if he bridleth not
his Tongue, his Religion is vain.
(54-55)
In effect, argues Zinzano, the pert servant will
undermine Christendom and restore paganism by virtue
of his uncreating word.10 Universal darkness will no
doubt follow, as will libertinism; it is not clear
which is worse. Pamela provides an interesting
perspective from another angle on the problems created
when hierarchy is violated, for it is Mr. B's
"confounding the highest with the lowest" that
disrupts the social order of the novel and sanctifies
the servant-maid's rebellion.
Pamela repeatedly reproaches B for stepping out
of the hierarchy that determines their relative
placement in society. She complains to her parents
that "This very Gentleman (yes, I must call him
Gentleman, tho' he has fallen from the Merit of that
title) has degraded himself to offer Freedoms to his
poor Servant!" (34). Although it is true that the
extremes to which B will go— abduction and attempted
rape— have not yet manifested themselves, it is still
striking that Pamela's first complaints are not that
he has encroached sexually, but that he has played
fast and loose with rank. When he makes his first
real "pass" at her in the summer-house,
I would have given my Life for a
Farthing. And he said, I'll do you no
Harm, Pamela; don't be afraid of me.
I said, I won't stay! You won't,
Hussy, said he! Do you know who you
speak to! I lost all Fear, and all
Respect, and said, Yes, I do, Sir, too
well!— Well may I forget that I am
182
i
your Servant, when you forget what I
belongs to a Master. j
I sobb'd and cry'd most sadly. i
What a foolish Hussy you are, said he,
have I done you any Harm?— Yes, Sir,
said I, the greatest Harm in the I
World: You have taught me to forget !
myself, and what belongs to me, and
have lessen'd the Distance that j
Fortune has made between us, by |
demeaning yourself, to be so free to a
poor Servant. (35) 1
i
Part of Richardson's technique here seems to be to
reiterate one of his underlying themes: that Pamela is
not only morally, but socially B's superior. (I will
i
explore this point more extensively in chapter 4.)
She regularly shows more concern than he for the j
preservation of social distinction, and reproaches him
for endangering that ordered progression of rank. For |
I
now, it is enough to point out that it is primarily
because Mr. B violates social rules that Pamela loses i
"all Fear, and all Respect," and thus breaks the rules
of servant discourse by reproaching him. !
I
Lucas, unlike Zinzano, keeps his advice to ^
i
servants firmly grounded in reality, eschewing j
hyperbole. He cites scriptural authority in his !
discussion of obedience:
. . . First. It must be in all things,
that is, all things that are not j
repugnant to the Will of God, who is
our supreme Master; or the Laws of the
Land, which are stampt with an
Authority superior to that of their
183 j
I
Master in all things else. Servants I
are not to dispute nor interpret, but
obey the Commands of their Master, for
they are not to answer for the |
discretion or reasonableness of his '
commands. (89-90) |
But Lucas does not forbid servants to initiate j
discourse, within certain limitations. In fact, he ]
suggests, virtuous speech may be the best indication
that the servant may give of his fidelity: |
f
. . . for Example, First, That he I
endeavour, as far as it lies in him, |
to promote the Virtue, and procure the
Salvation of his Master, for this is J
his truest and greatest Interest: This
he may effect, partly by Prayer to God j
for him, partly by Advice and good
Discourse, if his master give him any |
such opportunity, or admit him into
any such freedom: Partly like
Serapion. by the Example of an !
excellent Life, but if he cannot serve
him this way, he must at least take
care that he be not guilty of the
contrary; he must not be an Incentive
to, or Instrument of his sin; he must \
not be a Contriver of, or Purveyor for j
his Lust; he must not flatter and j
applaud him in his wickedness. . . .
(94) ■
This is a singular passage in eighteenth-century |
conduct books, for instead of advocating absolute j
t
silence, Lucas acknowledges not only that a servant ^
may speak, but that his speech may directly benefit
his master, through prayer and virtuous example.
Contrast his attitude with Seaton's: "Another Error ,
incident to Servants, and which may stand condemned by
the Words of the Apostle, is the answering a Question
that's not asked them; a being forward to put in, when
it is not intended that they shou'd share in the
Discourse ..." (185).11 It is clear, however, from
the content of this book and from the fact that he
also wrote a handbook entitled Practical Christianity.
that Lucas's primary interests are religious rather
than social. He appears to value spiritual salvation
above the mere preservation of social station.
Nevertheless, his exemplar is odd. Serapion, an
early saint of fourth-century Egyptian Christianity,
was a theologian and bishop who supported Athanasius
in his attacks on Arianism. With St. Anthony, he was
a key figure in early monasticism, famous for his
virtuous life. The fact that he is cited as an
example for servants to follow reinforces the
assumption of conduct books that the servant is a
powerful determiner of morality in his society.
Rather than choosing a model servant, even a saintly
one, to drive home his point, Lucas selects a bishop,
an early church leader, for servants to emulate. This
choice seems inappropriate, if Lucas wishes to remind
servants that they should be humble and obedient,
content with their social standing. Bishops may
humble themselves before God, but socially they wield
185
considerable power and enjoy concomitant prestige.
This is the sort of emulation that could give
ambitious servants inconvenient ideas.
Barnard's advice to apprentices includes detailed
instructions on silence. In his usual legalistic
manner, he distinguishes between different types of
silence. For example, he cautions, "... Should
there be, therefore, a general Confederacy among your
Fellow-Servants, to abuse the Confidence, or Credulity
of your Master, divulge it the very Moment you
perceive it, for fear your very Silence should be
thought to participate of their Guilt" (5). Silence,
then, has meaning in some instances:
In cases of Riots and Murthers, all
are Principals; and you may be undone
for another Person's Crime. Nay, in
Cases of Treason, even Silence is
capital, and, in such unhappy
dilemmas, you must either betray your
Friend's Life, or your own. (22)
One meaning of silence, then, is guilt, for the legal
maxim is qui tacet, consentire: he who is silent is
presumed to consent. Yet there are times when silence
is imperative; indeed, one of the divisions of
Barnard's books is "The Art. or Virtue, of holding
vour Tongue . . .". One should not boast of oneself,
or speak ill-naturedly or offensively, especially to
women, "For they are naturally prone to Rage; and,
thro' the very Frailty of their Natures, seldom fail
to avenge, what braver Minds either overlook, or
forgive" (10). But, cautions Sir John, "over and
above these general Cautions for the Government of the
Tongue, you must, in a more particular Manner, be
careful of the Secrets of the Family where you live;
from whence hardly the most indifferent Circumstance
must be divulg'd; . . ." (12). Similarly, Woolley
orders her readers, "If you are entrusted with any
Secrets, be careful that you reveal them not" (7).
The issue of maintaining silence about family
secrets recurs in many conduct books for servants. It
is, moreover, the ostensible basis for Mr. B's outrage
at Pamela, for in her letters home she has revealed
his "family secret," namely, that he is trying to
seduce her:
I would have gone; but he said,
Don't run away, I tell you. I have a
Word or two to say to you. Good Sirs,
how my Heart went pit-a-pati When I
was a little kind, said he, to you in
the Summer-house, and you carry'd
yourself so foolishly upon it, as if I
had intended to do you great harm, did
I not tell you, you should take no
Notice of what pass'd, to any
Creature? And yet you have made a
common Talk of the Matter, not
considering either my Reputation or
your own. . . .
Let me ask you, have you not told
Mrs. Jervis for one?
187
. . . Why then. Sir, said I, I
will not tell a Lye for the World: I
did tell Mrs. Jervis; for my Heart was
almost broke; but I open'd not my
Mouth to any other. Very well,
Boldface, said he, and Equivocator,
again! You did not open your Mouth to
any other; but did you not write to
some other? Why now, and please your
Honour, said I, (for I was quite
courageous just then) you could not
have asked me this Question, if you
had not taken from me my Letter to my
Father and Mother, in which, I own, I
had broke my Mind freely to them, and
asked their Advice, and poured forth
my Griefs!
And so I am to be exposed, am I,
said he, in my House, and out of my
House, to the whole world, by such a
Sawcebox as you? (40-41)
Mr. B, of course, has laid his plans for Pamela's
abduction (when this scene takes place, he has just
returned from a fortnight making things ready at the
Lincolnshire estate), and fears that Pamela's
correspondence may lead to outside interference. He
wants her to keep silent, whether her "silence" is a
literal absence of speech or an absence of written
discourse. For her part, Pamela has already begun to
suspect that something untoward is going on; one of
her letters home (alluded to above) has been stolen,
and she has written anxiously to her parents: "I am
watch'd, and such-like, very narrowly; and he says to
Mrs. Jervis. This Girl is always scribbling; I think
she may be better employ'd" (34). It is interesting
to note that Richardson portrays B's excessive concern
over family privacy as merely a cover story for his
villainy. Considering that such concern was often
expressed in conduct books, Richardson’s suspicious
rendering of what might have been normal behavior is
one more indication that he is departing from the
normal view of servants and masters in ordering his
fiction.
Not only servants, but also women of all classes
were advised to remain silent, or at least to speak
sparingly. Despite the glorification of wit in early
eighteenth-century writing, this glory was expected to
adorn only the male sex; women were to be modest, meek
and silent. The admonition of the Victorian clergyman
Charles Kingsley, "Be good, sweet maid, and let who
will be clever," could have appeared without
anachronism in many conduct books a century earlier.
In The Whole Duty of Woman (1753), William Kenrick
writes: "As the chattering daw, that prateth without
understanding; as the young magpie, with its double
tongue, talketh by rote; as the monkey jabbers; as the
green parrot squalls without ceasing; so is a woman,
who regardeth not her speech" (8). The similes point
to the relegation of a talkative woman to sub-human
status— paralleling Wilkes's immodest woman as "a kind
189
of Monster" (57), and recalling Seaton's "bridled"
servant. Similarly, Kenrick refers to the modest '
woman as "the daughter of innocence!", who "speaketh
not the first in the conversation of women, neither is
i
i
her tongue heard above her companions" (3 5-3 6) . Even j
i
in the absence of male companionship, this ideal of
quiet modesty was to prevail. I
i
Wetenhall Wilkes, in A Letter of Genteel and
Moral Advice to a Young Ladv (17 44), is more specific
\
in his advice: |
i
. . . [modesty] tunes and refines the
Language, moderates the tone, sweetens ,
the Accents, and never admits earnest j
or loud Discourse. It prescribes not '
only the Manner, but likewise the 1
Measure of speaking. It supresses
excessive Talking, as one of the
greatest Indecencies of Conversation.
. . . On the contrary, though a Lady >
be adorn'd with all the Embellishments !
of Art and Nature, yet if Boldness, !
Scorn, or Haughtiness, be imprinted on
her Face, it blots out all the Lines
of Beauty, and eclipses all that is i
otherwise amiable. . . . You must set ^
a Guard upon * your Lips; upon + your |
Tongue, and even upon your Thoughts: j
For unto God all Hearts lie open, all
Desires are known, and from him no
secrets are hid. (58-59) !
In the margin appear Wilkes's references to "* St. J
Matthew, chap. v. ver. 8" and "+ Eph. chap. iv Ver.
29"— lest the reader forget the divine Source of such
restrictions on women's speech. Women's
i
i
j
talkativeness, then, is "one of the greatest
Indecencies of Conversation," almost a social
obscenity. Later on, I will explore the connection
between speech and virginity; but for now, it is clear
that silence was considered to be not only a sign of
humility, and thus appropriate for servants, but also
a sign of modesty, and thus required of women.
Wilkes's condemnation of "Boldness, Scorn and
Haughtiness" which "blots out all the Lines of Beauty"
could easily have been written in reference to Lady
Davers's outrageous conduct when Pamela assures her
that the absent bridegroom B is indeed her husband.
Her behavior leads to the most farcical scene in the
novel (Pamela has to jump out a window and run to her
carriage to escape the furious lady), but also becomes
a moral lesson on ladylike reserve: as Lady Davers
raves like a madwoman, Pamela's icy politeness
establishes yet again her social superiority.12
Of course the messages to be silent went double
for women domestics; both caste and gender relegated
them to a position of verbal, as well as social,
inferiority. Hanway's Advice from Farmer Trueman, to
his Daughter Marv expostulates lengthily upon the need
for Mary to hold her tongue:
191
. . . I charge thee to beware of
impatience, lest thou shouldst make a
pert reply, and at once shew thyself
ill-mannered and ungrateful. and ruin
thyself in [thy mistress's] favor.
My advice to thee is, that instead
of resenting, thou shouldst learn to
compassionate: do not imagine, that
mercy and compassion were made to be
exercised only by the great and
wealthy toward inferiors . . .
Above all things avoid
expostulation with thy mistress. It
is too common a trick with passionate |
persons, when reproached, to tell
masters and mistresses, that they
understand their business, forgetting i
that their chief business is to obey. j
. . . No master or mistress of spirit,
will bear to be flatly contradicted by t
a servant, or to argue with them about
indifferent matters. In cases wherein '
thy virtue is not hurt, their pleasure i
should be thy law . . . (151-52)
These reminders that the Christian servant should turn
the other cheek, and that obedience is the chief task
i
I
of the servant, are by now familiar, as is the great j
exception to the rule of obedience: if it requires the
\
servant to sin against God, then obedience is wrong.13
A particular rule for female servants is added by
some authors. Serving-women must resolutely limit |
I
their discourse with men. The Art of Governing a Wife |
!
(also called The Batchelor's Monitor], written in 1747 j
to an audience of gentlemen, lays down the law for j
employers: j
Let them [i.e., maidservants] not
be permitted to entertain Gallants, or
192
encourage Courtship; . . . Great Care
is to be had, what Kindred of both
Sexes follow them; cousins and
Brothers-in-law, unless very well
known, may speak with them at a
distance; and if they converse not at
all, it is so much the better. . . .
too much Friendship among them is
dangerous, much Whispering and Secrets
are suspicious: They are not to be
suffered to call one another by Nick
names of their own framing, as
Husband, Granny, Gossip, or my Love,
my Dear, and the like . . . (66)
It sounds as though "cousin" and "brother-in-law" were
sometimes covers for a serving-girl1s admirers. But
the primary concern of the "Batchelor" is not the
virtue of virgin servants so much as the general
discipline and order of the family. Of course, his
intended audience is not the servants themselves, but
their masters. Farmer Trueman, addressing servants in
his usual excitable fashion, seems to equate
conversation with loss of virtue:
I charge thee, Mary, to be watchful
of thy words: Unguarded conversation
generally opens the door to mischief:
It looks like a design, to throw down
the barrier of chastity. From the
moment thou permittest any man to be
thy confident, [sic] or allowest
thyself to converse with him alone,
. . . it is most natural to conclude,
there is some danger to such a girl as
thyself. (182)
Just as loose clothing can represent loose morals, so
can careless discourse. And similarly, unguarded
1 1
193 :
speech may lead one step by step into sin- One false j
i
step, admonishes Hanway, and the serving-maid treads j
the primrose path. The Compleat Servant-Maid forbids
"giggling or idling out your time, or wantoning in the j
Society of Men; you will soon find the benefit
thereof" (56). i
I
j Most authors seem to regard fellow-servants as
the most likely source of temptation to sin. Sarah
Savage, the author of Advice to A Young Woman at i
*
Service. tersely remarks, "I need hardly say that in
i
your manners towards the men servants of the family,
i
t
you should be discreet and modest" (33). There seems |
to be no need to expatiate. Although Seaton had
warned servants that "the Master of any House [is] the
I
Person, from whom any Overtures to Uncleanness are j
more likely," he later backpedals: I
i
t
Thirdly, Our Observation telling us !
that it is not so common for Servants I
to have any Assaults made upon 'em, by
their masters, as by those that are j
more upon the Level, and their Fellow j
Servants in the same House; they stand
in need to be most especially
cautioned against the Attempts of each j
Other . . . (146) j
i
Even assuming that eighteenth-century housemaids were
inclined towards class solidarity, such caveats would
* ;
prevent unity downstairs. After a long disquisition !
I
on the dangers of drunkenness, keeping bad company,
I
and gaining, Broughton includes his special warning for
women servants:
Before I leave this head, under
which I have chiefly addressed myself
to the Men Servants, it will be proper
to give some caution to the other Sex:
for as, whilst they are in Service,
they cannot avoid conversing with the
Men Servants, and too frequently with
such as are lewd and debauched; they
ought to look upon themselves as
greatly exposed to temptations to
immodesty, and therefore should think
it their duty to guard against such
dangerous snares. (20)
Naturally, as servants, female domestics could
hardly lead a cloistered life; their employment made
discourse with men— both servants and gentlemen—
unavoidable. Their awareness of such circumstances
leads some authors to single out for condemnation
situations in which servants are alone with men.
Seaton's is typical of such cautions:
It is necessary before I take my
leave of [t]his Subject, to advise the
Women never to be with any Man alone
in the Dark, or in any private Chamber
where no one is by; because Secrecy
and Concealment may tempt the Men to
offer at, and themselves to submit to
what both of them wou'd be ashamed of
in the Light and in Company. (153-54)
The Female Servant's Adviser similarly warns its
readers:
On all necessary occasions, avoid,
as much as possible, being alone with
the other sex. Unto fellow-servants,
of the other sex, conduct yourself
with studied discretion and modesty.
As the greatest mischiefs happen from
small circumstances, never suffer any
one to transgress the strictest rules
of modesty, . . . Directly, and very
seriously, show your indignation at
such conduct, as it is generally
intended to answer some bad purposes.
. . . Leave a service that would lead
to sin, the moment you discern that
your virtue will be put to hazard by
any of the family. Trust to no
promises, whether from gentle or
simple, either from the man of high or
low degree, till actually made in
church, and you are become his lawful
and wedded wife— for many promises are
wickedly made only with an intent to
be broken. (27-28)
"Let your acquaintances be few, and of your own sex,"
directs Broughton (23). Woolley, perhaps not wishing
to exclude the possibility of a morally instructive
relationship with a member of the opposite sex,
structures her warning according to morality rather
than gender: "Do not keep familiarity with any, but
those with whom you may improve your time" (7).
The Adviser's instruction to "Trust to no
promises . . . till actually made in church" brings to
mind the threat of fraudulent marriage in Pamela. A
gypsy fortune-teller smuggles a note to Pamela that
reveals Mr. B's plot:
The 'Squire is absolutely determin'd
to ruin you. And because he despairs
of any other way, he will pretend
great Love and Kindness to you, and
that he will marry you. You may
expect a Parson for this Purpose, in a
few Days; but it is a sly artful
Fellow of a broken Attorney, that he
has hir'd to personate a Minister.
(196)
After he decides to offer honorable marriage, Mr. B
goes out of his way to persuade Pamela that he has
rejected this earlier ruse; he encourages her to "get
the [marriage] Service by Heart, that you may see
nothing is omitted" (2 36) . She is also much comforted
by the fact that the wedding takes place in a
consecrated chapel, where the service is performed by
the curate Williams and witnessed by Mr. Peters, the
minister of the parish, two gentlemen known by Pamela
to be bona-fide clergymen.
However, the Adviser's recommendation to "Trust
to no promises" also illustrates yet another way that
the discourse of servants was hemmed in by
restrictions. In this case, young female servants are
taught that the discourse of any man, whether "gentle
or simple, either . . . the man of high or low degree"
must not be trusted. In other words, servants are not
to trust their own judgement of the validity of
discourse, but are simply blindly to adhere to a
system of rigid rules in accepting or rejecting their
perception of discourse;
Sorry I am, to be constrained to
tell thee, Mary, but it is necessary
thou shouldst know the truth: There
are such vile wretches of both sexes,
on this fair earth, as blushen the
heavenly face of modesty to think of.
. . . These evil spirits in human
form, flatter and promise, and swear
as prodigally, as if they were to gain
heaven; and are as false as hell, from
whence their deceitful speeches come:
They present the flattering shew of
pleasure before the heedless eyes of
young women, and draw them on till
they fall into the pit of destruction.
• • *
. . . Listen not to them, but
remember, "that virtue which parlays,
is near a surrender." (Hanway 179-80)
Flattering men are by definition "vile wretches" who
are "as false as hell"; it is a given that young women
are "heedless," unable to judge soundly for
themselves. Moreover, should young women enter into
discourse with their admirers, they risk their
chastity simply by virtue of conversation. The fact
that Pamela corresponds directly with Mr. B from time
to time— even though her letters beg him to release
her— may represent symbolically the danger to her
chastity. If "that virtue that parlays, is near a
surrender," then Pamela, we are to understand, is
threatened indeed, from both within, in her
willingness to enter into discourse with B, and from
without. When she voluntarily returns to Mr. B at his
request, she demonstrates her reliance on her own
198 1
I
i
interpretation of events, rejecting a rote adherence j
I
I
to social rules:
I
Well, I will, I think, trust in his j
Generosity! . . . Tho' hard will be my !
Lot, to have my Credulity so justly
blameable as it will then seem. For, j
to be sure, the World, the wise World,
that never is wrong itself, judges '
always by Events. And if he should |
use me ill, then I shall be blamed for \
trusting him: If well, O then I did j
right, to be sure!— But how would my
Censurers act in my Case, before the
Event justifies or condemns the j
Action, is the Question? (217-18)
I
Broughton extends the warning against listening
to flattery to include any sort of exchange between
women and men, verbal or material:
Shew not yourselves over-fond of j
the company of Men, and always behave
before them with a proper reserve.
Never listen to any of their
flattering speeches. Be cautious in |
accepting from them either Presents or
Treats, lest in return they should I
expect you to indulge them in greater
freedoms, and such liberties, which, ;
though they call them innocent, may in j
the end lead to the overthrow of your
Virtue. And above all things, be not
prevailed upon, by promises of j
Marriage, to do what you may for ever !
repent of; few Men choosing afterwards !
to make Wives of such who have before 1
wedlock suffered themselves to be
debauched by them. (22-23)
Note that, for Broughton, there is only one "Virtue" 1
for women, and that is chastity. This passage does at j
j
I
least specify of what precisely Hanway's elliptical
"pit of destruction" consists.
In part, though, such warnings as these are
related to instructions in conduct books to distrust
displays of friendliness. Advisers on conduct in the
eighteenth century seem to have been a skeptical lot.
Barnard admonishes his son to "Depend upon it, all the
Commerce of Mankind is founded upon mutual Interest,
and, if it is not apparent by what Means you could
deserve all these Blandishments. conclude they are
artificial . . . " (42). False friendliness was not
restricted to the business world, however:
When a Person is suddenly lavish of
Friendship, you have Reason to fear it
will be soon exhausted. The excessive
way of speaking Civilities, and the
many Professions of Kindness and
Service which we ordinarily meet with,
are no more than a Prostitution of
Compliments never intended to be put
in Practice. Where the Heart is well
inclin'd, this Prostitution of Speech,
this Pomp of Rhetoric, cannot be
natural; nor do they mean half of what
they express. (Wilkes 69)
The curious phrase "Prostitution of Speech" exactly
sums up the connection between discourse and chastity.
It is not merely that loose lips were construed as
evidence of wanton inclinations? ready discourse was
considered to be a kind of wantonness itself.14
Kenrick makes the parallel clear. Under the heading
"Reputation," he proclaims: "As the time that is past
is gone for ever; as the word that escapeth thy lips
returneth not again; so is the good-name of a woman
when it goeth from her" (19). The loss of reputation
is like a spoken word; neither can ever be recovered.
Reputation, in fact, is the word that is spoken about
one's character; it is one's character in social
discourse. To be spoken of as unvirtuous is to lose
one's virtue, for a woman's "good-name" is her
identity. Silence, then, is a metaphor for chastity;
and following the pattern of metaphor, one thing is
not likened to another, it is the other.
In this passage also is an interesting standard
of trustworthiness; false friendship is not merely
"this Prostitution of Speech, this Pomp of Rhetoric,"
but it cannot be natural, nor are false speakers
sincere. Evidently the debasement of language is
related both to its use for falsehood and to the
breaking of silence, or prodigality of language. The
linking of such concepts is intriguing: speech equals
insincerity equals unnatural equals prostitution
equals loss of chastity. There is very little room in
such a system for women to be heard.
201
But Wilkes is not content that the virgin's body
be unpenetrated; he wishes her understanding to remain
intact;
. . . the very Name of Virgin imports
a critical Niceness with respect to
Virtue, Innocence, Modesty, and decent
Behaviour; Every improper Curiosity
defiles the Character: She that
listens with Pleasure to wanton
Discourse, defiles her Ears; she that
speaks it defiles her Tongue, and
immodest Glances pollute the Eyes.
(84)
Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil. "Improper
Curiosity" seems to be related to lust typologically,
and in effect deflowers the mind. Nonetheless, the
fact that Wilkes singles out "improper Curiosity"
suggests at least the possibility that some forms of
curiosity are proper, or at least tolerable. Kenrick
goes much further: "Let not curiosity mislead thee;
for curiosity is unseemly in a woman, but in a virgin
dangerous as the breath of evil" (63). This is a
nearly fanatical condemnation of curiosity, described
as certain to "mislead" women "unseemly" enough to
indulge in it— while for virgins, curiosity directly
threatens virtue. Twentieth-century culture values
curiosity so greatly that it is difficult to
reconstruct an era in which our greatest intellectual
virtue was considered tantamount to licentiousness.
202
Still, it must be acknowledged that the usual
victims of unsolicited sexual offers were not the
well-protected daughters of the upper classes, but
servant girls. And despite Seaton's statement that
"it is not so common for Servants to have any Assaults
made upon 'em, by their masters," some of the conduct
books explicitly directed housemaids to be on their
guard. Under the heading "Directions for Under-Cook-
Maids," Woolley advises them that
You must beware of Gossips and Chair
women [i.e., charwomen] for they will
misadvise you, take head [sic] of the
Sollicitations of the Flesh, for they
will undo you, and though you may have
mean thoughts of your self, and think
none will meddle with such as you, it
is a mistake, for sometimes brave
Gallants will fall foul upon the Wench
in the Scullery. (120)
Class and beauty may have nothing to do with sexual
advances. This view of the arbitrariness of men
echoes in a small way the earlier view of the
arbitrariness of masters.
More frightening, because less abstract, is
Farmer Trueman's cautionary narrative:
People of fortune generally observe
a more strict decorum, than the
condition of servitude will for the
most part admit of; and domestics
therefore stand in need of more
caution. . . . rich men are apt to
presume on the humble condition of
poor girls, to mark them as their
203
prey; not considering that the soul of
a chambermaid is as valuable as the
soul of a queen. If you are wise,
Mary, let not your fancy loose to
think of tying the knot for life, with
any man above a farmer, or a
tradesman, who is honest and not weak.
If any gentleman should honestly or
dishonestly commend your person, as if
he wished to possess it, let it pass
as words which he may be accustomed to
speak. In the first place, even if it
should be his opinion, a truly honest
and a generous character would have
concealed it, as the avowing of such
sentiments where nothing further is
intended, can only lead to something
very wrong, or to the making of both
parties unhappy: but if what is more
likely, nothing more is meant than
mere flattery; it is then
unquestionably a bait thrown out to
deceive; so that at any rate it will
be your wisdom to shut your ears, and
to guard your heart against such
addresses.
The generosity of men in this case
is not to be trusted. I can tell you
a very tragic story of this kind,
. . . The daughter of a yeoman of
reputation in this country was seduced
by a young gentleman; he had promised
to marry her, and she depended upon
his honour. . . .
He told me he would make her a
proper allowance, but could not
possibly think of marrying her, as he
should disoblige his friends, and mar
his fortune. (182-83)
"He that robb'd thee of [chastity], will despise thee,
and expose thy want," concurs Kenrick solemnly (38).
The end of Farmer Trueman's story is that the young
woman died of grief, and her seducer went mad with
melancholy. This is a very rich and significant
204
passage for the purposes of considering Pamela. since
it provides the "tragedy" version of the novel, a sort
of servant-Clarissa in miniature. The fact that
Hanway was writing approximately three decades after
the publication of Pamela may account for the fact
that he echoes Pamela's defiant proclamation of her
own value. Whereas Hanway declares that "the soul of
a chambermaid is as valuable as the soul of a queen,"
Pamela writes to the clergyman Williams that "O Sir!
my Soul is of equal importance with the Soul of a
Princess" (141). Clearly, the notion of the equality
of souls was accepted as a matter of course. What is
more interesting is the way that Hanway's tale,
written much later, provides a sort of sorrowful
subtext to Pamela: the tale of the betrayed maiden is
precisely the nightmare vision that fuels her fears,
and leads her to cling almost obsessively to her
chastity.
As if women are not sufficiently burdened by
having to watch every word, thought and gesture so
that they do not admit even the slightest taint to
their purity, they are, amidst this unblemished state,
forbidden even to speak of their virtue. Hanway's
Farmer Trueman cautions his daughter:
205 !
I
Women, who are really modest, never ;
make a boast of modesty, for that is j
in effect being immodest. A true I
sense of shame is founded on virtue, !
for we ought to blush in secret, even
at a thought which religion condemns. j
. . . Whatever thy company may be, j
take care not to offend against j
modesty, by any word or action; and j
avoid giving any smile or approbation,
when words of a double meaning are
spoken . . . Solid sense is preferable
to wit; the first is always j
beneficial, the last seldom fails to ,
be dangerous. . . . modesty towards I
superiors is the ready way to be j
treated with respect. (168)
Again, the decent woman must simply not allow
I
defilement to enter the porches of her ears, let alone i
i
respond favorably to it. Kenrick is more brief;
Art thou chaste, boast not
therefore; the security of thy !
possession, is as brittle glass, that ' ■
may by accident fall and be broken. 1
Be on thy guard, for thou knowest 1
not the weakness of thy nature, nor ;
the power of temptation. (39)
The impression created is that complacence in and of j
itself will render one a very Jezebel of iniquity. j
The imagery of brittle glass gives a chastely ironic ■
twist to the "china" imagery of The Country Wife; it j
is difficult to believe that Wycherley and Kenrick
were writing less than a century apart.
But the underlying lesson is not only "boast not
lest ye fall" garden-variety superstition; the real
significance is that women cannot rely upon themselves j
as ethical beings. This goes beyond the suggestion
that one's perception of male discourse is inherently
faulty:
Let me then earnestly beg of you to
think no pains and care too much to
preserve your modesty and virtue,
which are the chief honour of a Woman.
In order to this, do not trust in your
own strength, but beg of GOD to bestow
on you the gift of chastity.
(Broughton 2 0-21)
Women are so flawed in nature that only the omnipotent
and merciful God can help them by giving them their
only virtue. There is no suggestion that women may
earn virtuous status through study, hard work, or
discipline. Discipline and character seem to have no
part in it— in fact, the implication is that, as Pope
says in the Epistle to a Ladv. "Most women have no
character at all," and are incapable of discipline.
"By avoiding temptation thou mayst preserve thy
chastity; but man is the serpent of deceit, and woman
is the daughter of Eve," writes Kenrick (41).
Guarding one's chastity, then, becomes a passive
virtue, only to be attained by avoiding vice. Such
advice contrasts markedly with Pamela's active
campaign to preserve her virtue. In some ways, her
aerobic self-defense takes on a feminist quality when
set against the purely passive virtue advocated by the
purity pundits.
There are many ways in which Pamela is an
exception to the rules governing servant conduct: the
active role she plays in defending herself, her ready
language when hard-pressed by Mr. B, her refusal to
compromise her principles. But Pamela is also in part
a true daughter of her time: she is committed to
preserving her chastity, and when she does overstep
the bounds of servant conduct, she apologizes
abjectly. Her letters and journal, in which she
comments so frankly, and so sarcastically, on the
status quo, are all the more strikingly subversive,
given her usual adherence to the rules of servant
conduct. Pamela is a mixed character, paradoxically
rebellious and compliant, subversive and obedient. It
is her character, as revealed by both her writing and
her behavior, that is the subject of Chapter 4.
208
NOTES
1 Zinzano continues: ". . . how little are
Temptations to be resisted, when the Doors are open to
Sensuality, and all Guard gone off? He that is often
intemperate may be sometimes unchast, corrupt, or be
corrupted, as Fear and Shame are extinguish'd, and the
Passions heated by a Debauch" (56).
2 Note, too, that Fielding's heroes are usually
male. The so-called "double standard" in sexual
morality was alive and well in eighteenth-century
England, when generous-hearted youths such as Tom
Jones could sow wild oats with no regard for the
harvest. It was the women who were left to reap what
men had sown.
3 That Joseph Andrews is clearly meant for a
satiric type of the biblical Joseph is clear from
Fielding's commentary in the novel: he refers to
"Joey, whom for a good Reason we shall hereafter call
JOSEPH" (24); later, in a letter to his sister Pamela,
Joseph writes that "I shall copy your Example, and
that of Joseph, my Name's-sake? and maintain my Virtue
against all Temptations" (41) .
4 Susan Brownmiller, in her study Femininity (New
York: Simon & Schuster, 1984), has analyzed these and
other aspects of female movement; pp. 198-99, in the
chapter titled "Movement," focus on the hands and
women's cultural programming to keep them occupied.
5 See Thomasina Beck, Embroidered Gardens (New
York: Viking Press, 1979). Beck's narrow interest in
only embroidery depicting gardens yields a number of
examples from the eighteenth century alone. Mrs.
Delaney, one of the "blues," was famous for her many
handicrafts, especially for her exquisite embroidery
and her cut-paper flowers.
6 Carey McIntosh, "Pamela's Clothes," ELH:
English Literary History 35.3 (1968): 75-83. Rpt. in
Twentieth Century Interpretations of Pamela, ed.
Rosemary Cowler (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall,
Inc., 1969) 89-96.
I
209
7 Wilkes suggests another connection between
body/clothing and soul: "Never appear to Company
without your Stays. Make it your general Rules to
lace in the Morning before you leave your Chamber.
The Neglect of this is liable to the Censure of
Indolence, Supineness of Thought, Sluttishness— and
very often worse" (95). And see Brownmiller's chapter
on "Clothes": "to be truly feminine is to accept the
handicap of restraint and restriction, and to come to
adore it" (86).
8 Woolley concludes her recommendations to "such
who desire to be Chamber-Maids to Persons of Honour or
Quality" with similar instructions (my emphasis):
Lastly, you must learn to be diligent
to perform whatsoever your Mistress
commands you, to be neat in your
Habit, modest in your Carriage, silent
when she is Anqrv. willing to please,
quick and neat-handed about what you
have to do. If you attain to these
qualifications, and be of an humble
good Disposition, you will deserve a
good Sallary, and a great deal of
respect . . . (58)
9 For a famous passage in which a subordinate
human being is likened to a domestic animal, see The
Taming of the Shrew III.ii.227-32. Petruchio is
insisting that Kate must miss the bridal dinner:
But for my bonny Kate, she must with
me.
Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor
stare, nor fret,
I will be master of what is mine own.
She is my goods, my chattels, she is
my house,
My household stuff, my field, my barn,
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing
From G. Blakemore Evans, et al., The Riverside
Shakespeare (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1974).
10 Interestingly, Zinzano does not limit
linguistic rebellion to words alone; just as women are
taught that the merest gesture carries meaning, so are
— — --------j
210
servants equally restricted: "There is a Language in
looks as well as Words, and as well understood; so
that Servants ought no more to insult their Betters
with sour Looks than rude Language" (62-63). As so
often, one is reminded of the parent-child
relationship: "Don't give me that look!"
11 Although in fairness it should be pointed out
that, in Seaton's Prayer "For the Government of our
Words," the servant prays "let my Conversation at
least be perfectly innocent, and as far as possible
such as may administer Grace unto the Hearers" (293).
Still, such an exception does not appear in the body
of the chapter, but in the prayer following it.
Even Mr. B comments upon the relationship
between displays of anger and loss of beauty: "He
kiss'd her, and said, Oh! how Passion deforms the
noblest Minds! You have lost a good deal of that
Loveliness that used to adorn my Sister. And let me
persuade you to compose yourself, and be my sister
again!" (354). He strongly implies that uncontrolled
anger in a woman dissolves not only beauty, but family
ties— a formidable threat in an era when a woman•s
only legal identity derived from male relatives.
For instructions to servants to turn the other
cheek, see Seaton:
Again, the Servant shou'd reflect upon
it as the common Lot of all Men to
meet with Perplexities to try their
Patience: There is no Condition of
Life free from somewhat or other
vexatious, to exercise this Virtue;
and they must therefore be contented,
if they now and then have from their
Master a grating harsh Expression, and
take it to be the proper Season to
exercise their Patience in. . . . let
them . . . make themselves easy,
remembring [sic] that Bitterness of
Speech hurts not the Person it is
wrongfully used against, so much as it
does them that use it; and that the
Master is more a Sufferer by it than
his Servant. (193)
i
211
The link between religious obedience and- earthly
obedience is clearly stated by Waugh:
2. As Servants and apprentices are to
be obedient to their Masters, so are
they to submit to their Censures, and
suffer patiently their Reproofs; not
to oppose themselves, nor so much as
to Answer again when they are reproved
and blamed, Tit. II. 9. a thing highly
provoking in those, whose Profession
it is to obey, not to argue and
dispute. So strictly hath Religion
tied up your Obedience, that you are
not to derogate so much from the
Authority of your Masters, even when
froward and peevish, as to murmur at
their Reproofs and Corrections; but to
suffer patiently when you suffer
wrongfully: so St. Peter teacheth you,
I Pet. II. 18, 19, 20. Be subject to
your Masters with all Fear, not only
to the Good and Gentle, but to the
Froward also; . . . (15)
14 For an earlier parallel, cf. the condemnation
of Talkative in Pilgrim's Progress, who is rejected by
heaven because he talks about religion, but lives
immorally: "The soul of religion is the practic part,"
remarks Christian.
Chapter 4
"Pamela, Her Own Self"
O my daughter, I now declare to
thee, in the awful presence of the
God, whom I adore, I had rather see
the blood stream from thy bosom, than
behold thee, in the arms, even of a
King, on any terms but an honourable
marriage .... (Jonas Hanway,
Advice from Farmer Trueman, to his
Daughter Marv, Upon her Going to
Service. 1792, 186)
Most gracious God, since our Bodies
are called the living Temples of the
Holy Ghost, I desire to preserve mine
in that Purity, that it may always be
an Habitation fit to entertain him.
. . . (From Prayer VIII "For Purity,"
Thomas Seaton, The Conduct of Servants
in Great Families. 1720, 291)
We know that Richardson had written what were in
effect conduct books before he turned to fiction: The
Apprenticed Vade Mecum: or Young Man's Pocket-
Companion (1733) and the Familiar Letters (1741). In
the Familiar Letters, he wrote what some late
twentieth-century practitioners would call "sudden
fiction" or "short-short" stories: brief narratives of
a page or two, told in letters ostensibly written by
correspondents usually in the grip of some problem of
social conduct or morality (or both at once—
Richardson's favorite). The story of how Pamela
possessed him as he composed Letters 138 and 139— "A
Father to a Daughter in Service, on hearing of her
Master's attempting her Virtue" and "The Daughter's
Answer"— is told in the famous letter to Johannes
Stinstra (Selected Letters 228-35). The connection
between the conduct genre and Richardson's fiction has
received considerable attention from some critics;
Sylvia Casey Marks has argued that Sir Charles
Grandison should be regarded as a conduct book rather
than a novel, whereas Carol Houlihan Flynn asserts
that Richardson first turned to fiction as a conscious
strategy, "reasoning that fallen times called for
stronger measures" than simple instruction in morality
(x). For, according to Flynn, Richardson deliberately
"set out to perfect his readers, in his conduct
manuals and through the use of moral exemplars like
Pamela ..." (xii).
Richardson's moral intent is perhaps too obvious;
the very title page of Pamela trumpets his desire to
"cultivate the Principles of Virtue and Religion in
the Minds of the YOUTH of BOTH SEXES" (1). Richardson
seems never to have been very good at modesty, and his
ingenuous complacence has irritated generations of
214
critics. Few readers of Richardson's first novel can
fail to be aware of the debate over Pamela1s character
which exploded upon publication of the initial two
volumes. Kinkead-Weekes says that criticism and
parody of Pamela were immediate:
Pamela came out on 6 November 1740.
Shamela appeared the following April;
Pamela Censured in May; Anti-Pamela:
or Feign'd Innocence Detected; In a
Series of Syrena's Adventures in June,
almost certainly by Eliza Haywood; and
Povey's Virgin in Eden before the end
of 1741. There followed a spate of
ephemera connected with Pamela in one
way or another. (71)
McKillop cites the Danish dramatist Holberg's comments
that, as early as 1744, opinion was divided on
Pamela's character: "Some look upon this young Virgin
as an Example for Ladies to follow . . . Others, on
the contrary, discover in it, the Behaviour of an
hypocritical, crafty Girl, in her Courtship; who
understands the Art of bringing a Man to her Lure"
(101-2).1
The attacks on Pamela. as Kinkead-Weekes points
out, center on "charges of social subversion and
lasciviousness" (71) ; but the heart of the debate has
always been the nature of Pamela's personality.
Kinkead-Weekes has argued skillfully and, one hopes,
conclusively, against seeing Pamela as Shamela,
215
dismissing the charge that Richardson's narrative of
virtue rewarded is in fact a steamy sex novel.2 But
the debate continues, often by contrasting Pamela with
Clarissa, Pamela with Clarissa. Many critics want to
know why Richardson wrote such an inferior first
novel. Some have answered the question by speculating
about Richardson's psychopathology, while others
prefer to view Pamela as Richardson's artistic
apprenticeship. Or one may play both ends against the
middle:
I do not propose to discuss a
"divided" Richardson working against
himself, nor do I present the author
as an unconscious artist creating in
spite of himself. Richardson knew
what he was doing in his novels,
recognizing, even while he suppressed,
the inconsistencies in his final work.
(Flynn xi)
In terms of the available evidence, it is probably
equally true to say that Richardson did not know what
he was doing and to say that he did. The simple truth
is that Richardson is in many ways as ambiguous as his
most famous character.
Although many literary characters are considered
to be "round" or "three-dimensional," about whom
critics may debate motive or purpose, there are few
about whom critics squabble like schoolchildren.
Pamela is one of them, and the quarrel has been
216
uninterrupted for these two and a half centuries.
Clarissa is widely acknowledged to be a saint, even by
critics who are not religious; but Pamela is regarded
as either saint or succubus, depending on the
commentator. The field seems evenly divided. It may
be that, in preferring the dead and saintly Clarissa
to the rich virtuous lady Pamela, critics are in part
falling into B's sexist error: the only good woman,
goes such reasoning, must of necessity be a dead one.
As McKeon puts it, "critics have attacked Pamela1s
denouement as an unconscionable pattern of female
fulfillment"; I would argue that some of those who
disparage Pamela/Pamela do so because the pattern of
earthly fulfillment is female rather than male. Many
who squirm at Pamela's triumph do not begrudge Tom
Jones his happiness.
Terry Eagleton, in The Rape of Clarissa, engages
in a veritable diatribe against the earlier novel,
dismissing it as a "kind of fairy-tale pre-run of
Clarissa . . . a cartoon version of Clarissa,
simplified, stereotyped and comic in outcome . . .
Pamela is a sickly celebration of male ruling-class
power" (37). How Pamela can be simultaneously fairy
tale, cartoon, comedy and homage to tyranny is
difficult to conceive. Part of Eagleton's rage,
217
however, seems to be directed at the fact that the
novel is comic rather than tragic. 1 1 rPamela 1 . "
observes Margaret Doody, "is a comedy, a story of
love's vicissitudes which ends happily; ultimately, a
wedding is celebrated by which the right partners are
united, and the social order enriched" (3 5) . This
notion of comedy stems from the tradition of New
Comedy by way of what Frye calls "the green world."
It is true that few critics have the insight of a
Northrop Frye, for whom comedy constituted as profound
a truth as tragedy; nevertheless, and even considering
that Eagleton in part wishes to legitimize his
preference for the later novel, such an attack seems
unnecessary.
That Richardson may have anticipated such
critical attitudes is amusingly indicated by Pamela's
self-pitying fantasy of her own death; just as she
envisions Mr. B's regret when confronted with her
lifeless form, so may we imagine Richardson addressing
his critics: "these wicked Wretches, who now have no
Remorse, no Pity on me, will then be mov'd to lament
their Misdoings; and when they see the dead Corpse of
the unhappy Pamela dragg'd out to these slopy Banks,
and lying breathless at their Feet, they will . . .
say, O this is the unhappy Pamela 1 that I have so
218
causelesly persecuted and destroy'd!" (152). And true
enough, the most ardent haters of Pamela/Pamela
worship at the shrine of the good-and-dead Clarissa.
All of which is not to say that Pamela is the
superior work of art; but it does deserve to be
seriously considered as legitimate in its own right.
Its place in history, its amazing success, and its
interesting, if at times flawed, exploration of very
real social and moral problems entitle it to be
treated with respect. Granted, the novel is not Das
Kapital for the eighteenth century; but neither is it
the reactionary abomination that some critics believe
it to be. Pamela is no Mary Wollstonecraft; but she
is not The Total Woman. either. It may be argued
without folly that Pamela is, if not revolutionary, at
least subversive; that Pamela herself is, considered
within the context of servant conduct books, a
subversive servant; and that her subversiveness stems
both from her ambiguous social standing and from her
self-assertion. The way that the heroine and her
novel undermine their milieu has less to do with
whether she is a good girl (or whether it is a good
novel) than with the fact that in his first novel,
Richardson was trying to do the impossible; to justify
the ways of God in terms that a servant-girl could
219
understand; to reconcile heavenly virtue with earthly
reward.
Pamela exists in two societies at once: society
at large, in which, as a servant, she has a particular
place, and the smaller social subset, the society of
servants. What precisely is Pamela's position in the
servant hierarchy, at the novel's opening? Hecht has
stated that the servant class was split into two
ranks, "upper and lower domestics"; upper servants
performed "executive and supervisory" work, and often
"possessed special skills," whereas their inferiors'
"activities were controlled and directed," of a
"relatively unskilled, manual variety" (35). By
portraying Pamela's social intimacy with Mr. B's upper
servants, Richardson suggests that she is also of the
upper rank. This suggestion is confirmed by examining
the duties of upper and lower servants, and comparing
those duties to Pamela's daily tasks.
The Female Servant's Adviser details extensively
the duties of upper and under house-maids:
Where an upper house-maid is kept,
she has the management of the
household business of the family,
under the superintendence of the
house-keeper; and to her care is
committed the house-hold linen, viz.
that for the bed and table, the
napkins, towels, &c. It is her
peculiar business to keep the family
sitting and bed-rooms, the library and
the dressing-rooms, clean and in
order. For this purpose, as soon as
she rises in the morning, she will get
the breakfast parlour in readiness,
and the library, should there be one.
Having put these in order, she should
proceed to the dining and drawing
rooms, and sweep down the principal
staircase. Whether the dressing-rooms
are to be got ready before either of
the rooms above mentioned, must depend
on the time of your master and
mistress's rising. The rubbing of the
furniture, and the cleaning of the
mirrors, looking-glasses, and the
brass and other ornaments in the
parlours, drawing-room, library, &c.,
is the business of the footman, and he
generally performs this branch of his
duty while the rest of the room is
being made ready by the house-maids.
As soon as the family is assembled
at breakfast, the house-maid repairs
to the dressing-rooms and bed-rooms,
and puts them into proper order. The
best bed-rooms, that is, those which
are occupied by your master and
mistress, or any visitors, are always
first got ready. Having finished all
the bed-rooms, the staircases,
landings, and passages, must be
cleaned. The rubbing and cleaning of
the bed-room and dressing-room
furniture is the business of the
house-maids; and the fires there and
in all the sitting-rooms of the family
are to be lighted by them. It is the
duty also of the house-maid to put the
dressing-rooms into condition
preparatory to her lady and gentleman
dressing for dinner; and while the
family are at dinner, she again puts
in order those things which have been
used and disarranged at the dressing
hour. Early in the evening she
prepares the bed-rooms for the night.
Between the time of her own dinner and
tea, she is generally employed in
sewing or repairing the household
linen. The under house-maids are
subordinate to the upper house-maid,
and under her direction. They are
chiefly employed in the coarsest and
dirtiest part of the household
business; such as cleaning the stoves,
scouring the floors, stairs, passages,
&c., cleaning and shaking the carpets,
rugs, &c., scouring the coal-scuttles
and fire-irons; assisting in making
the beds, as also occasionally in the
laundry. They are also to assist the
upper house-maid in making and
repairing the household, bed, and
table linen. (4-6)
It is impossible to believe that Pamela occupied the
position of upper house-maid; never in the novel does
she or anyone else suggest that her customary work
involves keeping track of the household linen,
sweeping and setting rooms in order, or lighting
fires. And the only time we see her scouring a plate
serves only to show us how unaccustomed she is to "the
coarsest and dirtiest part of the household business."
The Adviser, however, is an early nineteenth-
century text, and may not accurately reflect the
duties of housemaids in Richardson's day. The
Compleat Servant-Maid of 1704 lists the following
Directions for House-Maids in Great Houses:
1. Your principal Office is to make
clean the greatest part of the House,
and see that you suffer no Room to lye
foul.
2. That you look well to all the
stuff, as Hangings, Chairs, Stools,
&c. And see that they be often, brushed
and the Beds frequently turn'd.
3. That you do not mis-place [sic]
any thing by carrying it out of the
Room to another, for that is the way
to have them lost, or you sounly [sic]
Chi'd for not keeping them in their
Proper places.
4. That you be careful and diligent
to all Strangers, and see that they
lack nothing in their Chambers, which
your Mistress or Lady will allow, and
that your close stools and Chamber
pots be duely emptied, and kept clean
and sweet.
5. That you help the Laundry-Maid
in the Morning on a Washing-day.
6. That in the Afternoon you be
ready to help the Waiting-woman or
House-keeper in their Preserving and
Distilling. (126-27)
Again, such duties are never associated with Pamela.
She is consistently described as attractively delicate
and dainty; one can scarcely imagine Mr. B panting
with desire as Pamela dumped the chamber-pots. Such
heavy and distasteful work is clearly inimical to the
image of Pamela that Richardson wishes to cultivate.3
In her first letter home, Pamela writes that she
"was taken by [Lady B's] goodness to wait upon her
Person," and that her late mistress "had put me to
write and cast Accompts, and made me a little expert
at my Needle" (25), suggesting that Pamela is no
household drudge, but a skilled worker. Indeed, Mr. B
says that he will keep Pamela on to "take care of my
Linen," which is to say his shirts and undergarments:
223
" . . . I work all Hours with my Needle,- upon his
Linen, and the fine Linen of the Family; and am
besides about flowering him a Waistcoat," writes
Pamela in Letter X (34).4 Later, lamenting her
uselessness to her impoverished parents, Pamela
complains that she has gained "Qualifications above my
Degree," which implies that, in the normal course of
events, she would not have acquired special skills
(25) :
I have been brought up wrong, as
Matters stand. For, you know, my
Lady, now with God, lov'd Singing and
Dancing; and, as she would have it X
had a Voice, she made me learn both;
and often and often has she made me
sing her an innocent Song, and a good
Psalm too, and dance before her. And
I must learn to flower and draw too,
and to work fine Work with my Needle
Be sure I had better, as Things
stand, have learn'd to wash and scour,
and brew and bake, and such-like. (77)
In short, Pamela has been taught the accomplishments
of a lady's maid, which closely resemble the
accomplishments of an upper-class lady. More
strikingly, she has been left in ignorance of the
skills, such as cleaning and cooking, appropriate to
her class— appropriate even if, as is suggested by her
parents having fallen in status through financial
misfortune, her origins are in the lower ranges of the
224
middle class. If, in fact, she comes from a less than
genteel family, it seems very odd that she would not
have been taught the rudiments of housekeeping,
especially since she did not enter Lady B's service
until she was twelve years old (27). Even more
strangely, this girl who has not learned to wash or
bake has, she later says in passing, worked as a milk
maid (52). Perhaps Richardson, like Marie Antoinette
later in the century, regarded such a pastoral chore
as inherently romantic, and not to be categorized with
such unsavory and graceless duties as scrubbing.
Margaret Doody refers to Pamela as "The Pastoral
Comedy," and points out that country settings and
shepherdess-heroines were a commonplace in the drama
of Richardson's day (36-42).
Pamela's skills and duties as a servant are
typical of the lady's maid or waiting-gentlewoman.
Woolley presents "Directions for such as desire to be
Waiting-Gentlewomen":
If you desire to be a Waiting-
Gentlewoman to a Person of Honour of
Quality; you must,
1. Learn to Dress well.
2. Preserve well.
3. Write well a legible hand, good
Language and good English.
4. Have some skill in Arithmetick.
5. Carve well. (9)
225
Pamela, in the novel, is shown to have all these
skills, except preserving; much ado is made, not only
of her linguistic and artistic accomplishments, but of
her exquisite taste in dressing. Even her skill at
carving is celebrated in one pre-nuptial scene: j
t
A boiled Turkey standing by me, my
Master said, Cut up that Turkey,
Pamela. if it be not too strong Work
for you, that Lady Darnford may not
have too much Trouble. So I carv'd it
in a Trice, and helped the Ladies.
Miss Darnford said, I would give
something to be so dextrous a Carver.
O Miss, said I, my late good Lady
would always make me do these things,
when she entertained her Female
Friends . . .
Ay, said my Master, I remember my
poor Mother would often say, if I, or
any body at Table, happen'd to be a j
little out in Carving, I'll send up 1
for my Pamela, to shew you how to j
carve. Said Lady Jones. Mrs. Andrews ;
has every Accomplishment of her Sex.
. . . Miss Darnford said, And I can j
tell you, Madam, that she plays j
sweetly upon the Spinnet, and sings as i
sweetly to it; for she has a fine
Voice. (252-53) j
The blurred line that divides the accomplishments
I
of the lady's maid from those of the lady is apparent
not only in the novel, but also in some of the conduct
books for servants. Of the lady's own woman or
waiting-maid, Bayne-Powell quotes Hannah Glasse: "Mrs. j
I
Glasse in her Servants Directory does not venture to i
instruct her. 'I do not presume,' she says, 'to give
226
directions to the Lady's Woman— she being always
supposed to be a person of some education who knows
the World and what is proper for her to do in her
station'" (141). Her reluctance to intrude on a
privileged position clearly shows the high status of
the lady's woman, particularly in a book in which such
humility gives way to outright bossiness when Glasse
addresses the lower servants. Moreover, the passage
declares that, like the proper lady, the proper lady's
maid will naturally and intuitively know what behavior
is appropriate: she needs no instruction, because her
innate sensibility guides her. Anthony Heasel, in a
similarly lofty manner, explains "The necessary
Qualifications of a Lady's Maid":
As the servant under the above
character is obliged to be near her
lady, it is necessary that none
pretend to be properly qualified for
it, unless their education has been
something above the ordinary rank of
other women; for she will not only be
obliged to do some fine pieces of
needle-work, but also to read at
proper times the best authors. . . . A
soft answer, a submissive carriage,
and a ready compliance with her lady's
orders, will always intitle her to
respect. (Heasel 69-7 0)
Pamela seems to embody just these qualifications. She
is accorded very high status among her fellow-
servants; her only real superiors are Mr. B's two
227
housekeepers, Mrs. Jervis and Mrs. Jewkes. Pamela
says that Mrs. Jervis is "a Gentlewoman born, tho' she
has had Misfortunes" (30).6 Although Mrs. Jewkes is
presented as a much coarser personality than Mrs.
Jervis— perhaps she is a housekeeper who has risen
through the ranks rather than a reduced gentlewoman—
and thus repulsive to Pamela both in manners and in
morals, Pamela still wishes to accord senior status to
her. When Pamela arrives at the Lincolnshire estate,
Mrs. Jewkes addresses her as "Madam": "Pray, Mrs.
Jewkes. said I, don't Madam me so; I am but a silly
poor girl, set up by the Gambol of Fortune, for a May-
game; and now am to be something, and now nothing,
just as that thinks fit to sport with me: And let you
and I talk upon a Foot together; for I am a Servant
inferior to you, and so much the more as I am turn'd
out of Place" (103) . Her intimacy with Mrs. Jervis is
mute testimony to Pamela's gentility, innate or
learned. Other signs of her privileged status are the
fact that she has her own bedroom— it was still
customary for servants to share— and the fact that she
is given her late mistress's clothing, a usual
"perquisite" for waiting women (Bayne-Powell 33, 49).
Mr. B refers to Pamela in company as "my Mother's
Waiting-maid," and later, during one of his quarrels
228
with the heroine, asks, "[H]ave you not been always
distinguish'd by me, above a common Servant?" (57,
63) .
But the fact that Pamela is a lady's maid, a high
position in the servant hierarchy, only serves to
raise the question of her class origins.7 It is true
that, as Heasel says, her "education has been
something above the ordinary rank of women"? but does
she have the innate sense of propriety required by
Glasse? The matter is complicated by the fact that
the lady's maid is difficult to distinguish from the
waiting-gentlewoman, who, according to Bayne-Powell,
was "sometimes related to her employer. The poorer
gentry could make little provision for daughters, and
if they did not marry or were widows in reduced
circumstances they might have to earn their own bread
. . . they could become governesses or take a post as
a waiting-gentlewoman" (134).8 Pamela is never
presented as being related either to the Bs or to any
other family of high status. Despite the fact that
her education and standing in the B household seem
commensurate with such an origin, it is clearly
established in the novel that Pamela is not of gentle
birth. Bayne-Powell tells us that the most common
source of servants was the middle class, "farmers'
sons and daughters or the children of poor clergymen"
(134). Is Pamela, then, a middle-class girl?
Although John Andrews is pious, he is no
clergyman, a profession always regarded as
gentlemanly, however poor the individual may be;
indeed, her parents are ecstatic that the curate
Williams has proposed marriage to Pamela, for they
know that, as the wife of a gentleman, their daughter
will have greatly risen in society.9 Given Williams's
low position in the church hierarchy, and his utter
dependence for preferment on Mr. B (apparently he
himself comes from no influential family), their
enthusiasm for the match serves to emphasize the
paucity of their expectations for their daughter, as
does their belief that, as the parents of a
clergyman's wife, they "must be a disgrace to her, as
the World will think" (142) . It is clear that despite
his many virtues, John Andrews is no gentleman.
Andrews writes to Pamela that "We are, 'tis true,
very poor, and find it hard enough to live; tho' once,
as you know, it was better with us" (27). In the same
letter, he mentions that he is "forc'd to dig" ditches
for his living, which suggests that the Andrews family
is struggling for mere subsistence; later, when Pamela
writes that she is indeed coming home, her father
hopes that "we shall live comfortably together . . .
what with my diligent Labour, and your poor Mother's
Spinning, and your Needle-work" (46). Evidently,
regardless of their former relative prosperity, the
family has fallen to the status of the rural working
poor; Mr. Andrews, Pamela later says, is "imploy'd" by
a farmer, which implies that he does not own any land
himself (91). He is not even a tenant-farmer, for he
is not left to establish his own schedule of duties,
but must "get Leave for" a day to journey ten miles to
meet Pamela when she returns (46). It seems logical
to conclude that he is working as a day-laborer, the
lowest rank of rural employee. In Richardson's letter
to Aaron Hill about the original story on which Pamela
is based, he remarks that "when the lady [the original
of Lady B] took their child, the industrious man
earned his bread by day labour, and the lowest kinds
of husbandry" (Selected Letters 4 0).
Further evidence of the family's low origin is
that Mr. Andrews seems not to be familiar with customs
in the upper classes, but has to consult his neighbor,
"good old Widow Mumford" for reassurance that Mr. B's
gift to Pamela of his late mother's clothing is not
unusual. Later on, when John Arnold inveighs against
the fact that the Andrews family "should not have
better Luck in the World," Pamela feels more pride in
her parents' honest poverty "than if I had been born a
Lady," the subjunctive clearly indicating that she was
not so highly born (3 0) . When Mr. B first accosts
Pamela in the Summer-house, he thinks to tempt her by
promising, "X will make a Gentlewoman of you, if you
be obliging," which implies that she is not one;
similarly, Mrs. Jervis tells B that the servants
respect Pamela "as if she was a Gentlewoman born" (35,
39). She is neither a lady nor a gentlewoman born.
The Andrews family is manifestly literate (see
discussion above, Chapter 2); in fact, according to
Pamela, "my father understood a little of Accompts,
and wrote a pretty good Hand," sufficient that, when
first ruined, he "try'd to set up a little Country
School" (375).10 (His accomplishments are noticeably
inferior to his daughter's.) Yet Mrs. Jervis, when
she sees John Andrews's first two letters to Pamela,
"praised the Honesty and Inditing of them," which is
to say that she commented not only on their content,
but on their composition (37). This suggests, as does
B's earlier praise for Pamela's penmanship and
writing, condescension; evidently Mrs. Jervis
occupies, as a reduced gentlewoman, social and
232
educational superiority to John Andrews, a reduced—
whatever he is.
The anonymous Life of Pamela attempts to clarify
the mystery of Pamela1s class origins by describing
John Andrews as "a very honest and worthy Man, who
liv'd in a yeomanly way, partly as a Gentleman, and
partly as a Farmer, upon a slender Estate of his own,"
having a "small Patrimony" which he lost in the South-
Sea Bubble (1-2). After his loss, he opened a school,
and sent his daughter into service (3-4).11
Richardson, however, clearly does not intend Mr.
Andrews to be taken as a gentleman-farmer, doubtless
because extreme poverty renders more admirable
Pamela's resistance to material temptation: a lady
born cannot be tempted with the status of a lady, but
a lower-class girl can. In the novel, it is clear
that Mr. Andrews, far from being considered a
gentleman, is not even of the yeomanry; never is it
suggested that the family is an old one, or that John
Andrews has inherited land. According to Pamela, he
has suffered "the extremest Degrees of Disappointment,
Poverty and Distress, and the Persecutions of an
ingrateful World, and merciless Creditors" (153).
Explaining her family history to Lady Davers near the
novel's end, the newlywed Mrs. B says that her parents
233
"had Misfortunes, thro' their doing beyond their Power
for two unhappy Brothers, who are both dead, and whose
Debts they stood bound for, and so became reduced,
and, by harsh Creditors, (where most of the Debts were
not of their own contracting) turn’d out of all"
(375).12 Nowhere are we given to understand that John
Andrews has lost an estate or a fortune in charitably
supporting his relatives; only that his attempt to pay
his brothers' debts has left him destitute.13
The fictional solution to the problem of Pamela's
social class is marriage. By raising Pamela up to the
gentry through marriage, the problem of her class
origin is glossed over. Squire B justifies to his
sister his marriage to a servant through the logic of
common law: "a Man ennobles the Woman he takes, be she
who she will; and adopts her into his own Rank, be it
what it will" (349). However logical this may be
legally, socially it does not prevent problems; B's
frequently reiterated anxiety about "the World's
Censure" is substantial, causing him to send Pamela
away rather than allow himself to be tempted to marry
her (188, 213-14). But sexual desire proves stronger
than social reality— it is an almost universal premise
in literature that sexual desire is subversive of
established power— and he marries her, asserting that
her equal cannot be found among ladies born.14 In his
study of master-servants relations in Renaissance
literature, Frank Lawrence Hoskins remarks that
the noble or gentle woman does not
marry a man of low degree. Since the
children of such a marriage would
necessarily take the social status of
their father, there were economic
reasons for the disapproval of such
alliances in a patriarchal society.
And even though the nobleman or
gentleman could marry a slave or
servant without loss of status, gentle
society accepted this type of union
only if the wife of low degree
displayed upper class virtues. (235-
36).15
Only extraordinary virtue on the part of the innately
noble wife enables the husband to "ennoble" her
through marriage; in other words, moral nobility must
precede social rising. Nevertheless, such ennobling
seems to be limited to the bride herself, for Pamela's
parents are not invited to make their home near the
Bs, but to undertake the management of a farm in Kent,
some fifty miles away (381).
It is interesting to note that, while Mr. B's
legal argument in favor of the husband's capacity to
raise a lower-class woman through marriage follows the
principle in law of coverture, it does in fact violate
the advice given by the conduct books, and not merely
those for servants. The Art of Governing a Wife (or
235
The Batchelor * s Monitor) of 1747 recommends equality
in marriage:
In the first place, it is proper,
that the Man choose such a Wife, and
the Woman such a Husband, as does not
exceed them in Birth or Fortune; that i
is, that Gentry match among Gentry, J
Merchants among Merchants, the
Yeomanry among Yeomanry, and Farmers
among Farmers; for if there be any !
Inequality, the Inferior will be
dissatisfied, and the Superior weary
of his life. I do avouch, that the
Merchant who marries his Daughter to a
Man of Quality, and the Farmer who
contracts his Alliance with a
Gentleman, do bring into their House
one that will publish their Shame,
devour their Fortune, take away their
good Name, and shorten their Life.
. . . In fine, I say, a Man had better
bury his Daughter, than not marry her
to his Equal . . . (7)
This is serious stuff; the author is not merely
concerned with social niceties, but with whether such i
a couple can endure living together. He seems to j
regard an unequal marriage in the same way that Hanway j
regards premarital sex: as a fate worse than death. j
I
Later in his text, he explains that "the due
Proportion of the Match" is the key ingredient to
marital happiness: "Inequality of Birth, of Fortune,
of Age, causes Disputes, and those Disputes produce
Discord. This it is that brings on all Troubles, there
is no Peace, and the married Life is Hell upon Earth"
236
(41). The Bachelor offers no advice for hellacious
marriages between equals.
Farmer Trueman also advises his daughter Mary, to
marry within her own class:
If you are wise, Mary, let not your
fancy loose to think of tying the knot
for life, with any man above a farmer,
or a tradesman, who is honest and not
weak. If any gentleman should
honestly or dishonestly commend your
person, as if he wished to possess it,
let it pass as words which he may be
accustomed to speak. In the first
place, even if it should be his
opinion, a truly honest and a generous
character would have concealed it, as
the avowing of such sentiments where
nothing further is intended, can only
lead to something very wrong, or to
the making of both parties unhappy:
but if what is more likely, nothing
more is meant than mere flattery; it
is then unquestionably a bait thrown
out to deceive; so that at any rate it
will be your wisdom to shut your ears,
and to guard your heart against such
addresses. (Hanway 182-83)
Farmer Trueman and Pamela see eye to eye on the matter
of equality in marriage. Early on in her letters,
Pamela complains that, by making advances to her, Mr.
B "has fallen from the Merit of [the] Title" of
"Gentleman," and tells Mrs. Jervis that she would not
be so saucy "if he had not forgot to act as my Master"
(34, 49). By stepping over the bounds of sexual
separation prescribed between the classes, she argues,
B has undermined his own authority, and justified her
237
rebellion. Even as B and Pamela move toward a
reconciliation, she tells him, "You cannot then be my
Master; for no Master demeans himself so to his poor
Servant" (181). And B himself, before his
"conversion" to marriage, tells her, "I cannot endure
the Thought of Marriage, even with a Person of equal
or superior Degree to myself . . . How then, with the
distance between us, and in the World's Judgment, can
I think of making you my Wife?" (184). Their society
will, as Hanway puts it, think "something very wrong"
about a marriage so unequal.
Equally illuminating is the advice given by Sir
John Barnard, whose A Present for an Apprentice is
directed towards young men who wish to better
themselves as did Sir John. To begin with, the
apprentice should steer clear of females in service:
. . . avoid all Familiarities with
them, . . . They are, generally
Persons both meanly born, and bred,
with very few good Qualities, often
with none at all, wanton, mercenary,
rapacious, and designing: They will
make it both their Study, and Ambition
to ensnare you, affect to do you good
Offices, be ever ready to serve you,
seem never to be so well pleas'd as in
your company; injure the Family to
regale you; attempt to seduce you with
Smiles, Blandishments, and all the
Stratagems of intriguing Hypocrisy:
. . . if they happen to have a deeper
Reach than ordinary, they will
probably aim at your utter Undoing, by
a clandestine Marriage . . . (30-31)
Such a stereotype of servant-maids, if widespread,
goes a long way towards explaining Mr. B’s prejudice
against marrying so far beneath his rank. It is
curious to note that, just as a woman may be "ruined"
by premarital sex, a rising young man can be "ruined"
by an imprudent, and professionally premature,
marriage. Zinzano doesn't even want his apprentices
to be friendly with women: "Especially all female
friendships and familiarities, be they never so
innocent, must be avoided, lest they engage the
Affections too far, and proceed to an untimely
Marriage, or Marriage Contract, which forfeits the
Indentures, and ends often unhappily" (70).
In some remarks evidently intended to discourage
premature marriage, an anti-female bias is clear.
Although Barnard admits the "Pleasure of conversing
with the Ladies," he warns that it can be "often
productive of very extraordinary Mischiefs":
Indeed, if a more serious Turn was
given to their Educations, if the
Roman Cornelia was made the Model,
after which they were to form
themselves, I would be the first to
advise you, to devote all your leisure
Hours to the Charms of their
Conversation. . . . But this is
beholding the Sex in the most
flattering Light; by being early
239
taught to admire themselves, they very
seldom regard any Thing else: And you
may as well endeavor to set your Seal
upon a Bubble, as fix that mercurial
Spirit, which flies all off in Vapour.
. . . one would conclude not only
Venus herself to be born of Froth, but
all her Votaries too. (36-37)
Cornelia was a devoted Roman widow and mother who
regarded her sons as her most precious jewels, and was
regarded as personifying the highest female virtues.
As a matter of interest to readers of Pamela, she is
supposed to have written beautiful letters. Later j
I
feminists argued, of course, like Barnard, that their
I
trivial educations were to be blamed for women1s j
empty-headedness; Barnard seems content, however, to j
make the accusation, without bothering to suggest
reforms. At moments, his condemnation of women
I
recalls that of the early church fathers: !
|
When, therefore, either by Accident,
or Choice, you venture into their
insinuating Company, consider them all
as Syrens, that have Fascination in
their Eyes, Musick on their Tongues,
and Mischief in their Hearts. Let
your Correspondence with them be only
to learn their Artifices, unravel
their Designs, and caution yourself
how to avoid them. Or, if your
Inclinations render their Society !
necessary to your Happiness, let your
Prudence chuse for you, not your
Appetite! Search out those Qualities
that will blend most kindly with your
own, and let domestick Excellencies
out-weigh more shining
Accomplishments. (38)
240
The first half of this passage is echoed-by Mr. B, who
complains to Pamela that "well X found the Tables
intirely turn'd upon me, and that I was in far more
Danger from you than you was from me . . . I fear'd I
could not trust myself with my own Resolution. And
this is the Reason, I frankly own, that I have
determin'd not to see you, nor hear you speak; for,
well I know my Weakness in your Favour" (213). Of
course, B is not resisting Pamela's physical appeal so
much as his love for her, at this point. And
eventually, he finds a way to reconcile both prudence
and appetite by marrying Pamela.
Sir John emphasizes practicality and prudence in
marriage, counseling moderation. The apprentice
should not marry for money, but should wait until he
has an income, and then marry: "Nothing can be more
sordid than to bargain for a Wife, as you would for a
Horse, and advance, or demur in your Suit, as Interest
rose, or fell ..." (67-68). The youth must not be
dazzled by an old title or family name, but choose a
wife from a family of plain integrity. Her character
should be spotless, and she should know how to manage
a household and its money; obviously, Pamela would not
be a candidate for an apprentice's bride, given her
241
domestic inexperience. Don't marry a celebrated ’
t
beauty, he warns, but don't despise beauty:
Let an agreeable Person then first
invite your Affections, good qualities
fix them, and mutual Interest tye the
indissoluble Knot. . . . For, if
Happiness does not consist in
Abundance, be assur'd it flies from
Necessity! And, tho' the Protestations
of unextinguishable Passion make a
very good Figure in Poetry, they have
very little Relation to common Sense.
(68)
I
The series of oppositions begins, after awhile, to
sound like Polonius lecturing Laertes.
But take this along with you: There is
not a Perfection either of Body, or
Mind, to be met with in low life,
which is not to be as easily attain'd
in high; . . . and, if Opportunity
favours, she, who has that Advantage !
[i.e., wealth], and almost every
other, may be won by Address, and '
Assiduity in as little Time, as she
who is void of all. (69)
Such shrewd advice is rejected by Mr. B in the novel;
!
he proclaims to Lady Davers, "For Beauty, Virtue,
Prudence, and Generosity too, I will tell you, j
i
I
[Pamela] has more than any Lady I ever saw" (350). It
is clear, however, that Pamela is intended as a
paragon, the exception to the Barnard's rule of
1
"wanton, mercenary, rapacious, and designing" female '
l
domestics.
Whereas on the one hand Pamela's honeymoon
consists primarily of B’s lessons to his new wife,
Barnard provides instructions for the groom. Treat
your wife as well after marriage as before, he
cautions; be patient with her moods, and never be
obstinate:
To say the Truth, no woman would
marry, if she expected to be a Slave,
and there can be no Freedom where
there is no Will: In all trifling
Matters then, leave her to her own
Discretion; 'twill be of Advantage to
you on more important Occasions; and
she will chearfully forbear
interfering in your Province, if she
finds herself undisturb'd in her own.
(73)
As always with Sir John, virtue has strategic
advantage; if the husband compassionately indulges his
wife on minor matters, she will be the more malleable
when he insists on having his own way. Yet he does
encourage a strong bond between the couple; to that
end, he urges, have one table, one purse, and one bed
— a practice that the newlywed Bs undertake
wholeheartedly.
But for the most part, the advice of the conduct
books to marry equally is rejected by the novel's
plot. Far from attempting to ignore or minimize the
difference in rank between the pair, Richardson
foregrounds again and again the wide chasm between
243
Squire B's station in life and that of his servant-
maid. Indeed, the gap between them generates the
tension that provides the comic catharsis of their
union. Early in the story, Mrs. Jervis remarks to
Pamela that B has grown surly because he is in love
with her, despite the fact that "you are so much his
Inferior"; "'tis no Wonder that he should love you,
you are so pretty; tho' so much beneath him" (49-50).
Shortly before Pamela's abduction, B calls her in to
see him in his suit of clothes for his presentation at
court; "our Folks," she says, "will have it he is to
be made a Lord" (70) . Kinkead-Weekes observes that
"squires who marry beneath them are not admitted at
Court" (28). His sister Lady Davers, we know by her
title, has married into the nobility. The B family,
then, is not merely a family of respectable gentlemen,
but of the upper gentry, high enough that they verge
on the aristocracy. The marriage between the courtier
and the girl whose father must dig ditches is a
merging of opposites that suggests not realism, but
fable— not the novel, but the fairy tale.
Two well-known fairy tales provide a context for
understanding Pamela♦ Although it was not written for
at least a century after Pamela was published, Hans
Christian Andersen's tale "The Princess and the Pea"
244
operates almost as a subtext to the novel, as does the
ubiquitous ''Cinderella," best known in the version
recorded by Charles Perrault.16 Both tales present
archetypal plots: one of the princess who appears on a
stormy night in bedraggled clothing, but whose status
as a princess is authenticated by her extreme
sensitivity? the other of the oppressed and
impoverished lady whose beauty and delicacy,
represented by her ability to wear a tiny glass
slipper, win the heart of a prince and establish her
right to be his princess. In both tales, the
initially shabby appearance of the maiden is
contrasted with the reality of her high social rank.
The novel presents social advancement as a reward for
internal virtue; Pamela the worthy servant girl is a
kind of moral princess, a Christian Cinderella whose
delicacy, beauty and virtue secure her right to be
Mrs. B. As Margaret Doody points out, "If Pamela is a
fable, it is a Christian fable" (34).
From the beginning of the novel, Pamela is
portrayed as being as delicate as Podsnap's "young
person." Although her father is a day-laborer with
but a rudimentary education, she has, in a scant three
years, acquired the education suitable to a lady. In
the process, she has acquired upper-class social
attitudes; despite her childhood career as a milkmaid,
she dislikes familiarity from her fellow servants;
when the footman Harry "took hold of me, as if he
would have kiss'd me . . . I was very angry . . .
methinks I can't bear to be look'd upon by these Men-
servants; for they seem as if they would look one
thro"' (30).17 Like Cinderella, Pamela is dainty; Mr.
B gives her "Three Pair of fine Silk Shoes" that
belonged to the late Lady B, "just fit for me; for my
old Lady had a very little Foot" (31). Her
constitution is so delicate that she assures her
parents, "fear not that I shall be a Burden to you, if
my Health continues" (45). The proviso suggests that
Pamela will not last long in poverty, an odd hint,
given her general robustness.
Her bouts of fainting, on the two occasions when
Mr. B attempts rape, are famous; the first time, when
Mr. B pops out of the closet in Mrs. Jervis's bedroom,
Pamela's three-hour swoon persuades the housekeeper
that she has died, while the second time she enters
"her deplorable State of Death" both B and Mrs.
Jewkes— neither of them sympathetic to the unconscious
girl— fear she will not live (67, 177). "Watt,"
observes Miller, "reads Pamela's fainting as proof of
het inherent upward mobility;
Pamela’s humble birth hardly entitles
her to this trait; but in fact her
full possession of it only shows that
her total being has been so deeply
shaped by ideas above her station that
even her body exhibits— to invoke the
assistance of a neologism . . . a not
uncommon form of what can only be
called sociosomatic snobbery. (Watt
161-62)." (166)
Kinkead-Weekes agrees that Pamela's swoon "confirms
her integrity, since it suggests that her morality is
part of her very being, which finds turpitude
literally unbearable" (23) . Such an egregious insult
to her fine-tuned sense of honor can endanger Pamela's
health— clearly a sign of a refined and delicate
nervous system. She is so accustomed to gentle
treatment that she is horrified to be slapped and
beaten by Mrs. Jewkes, for she has never been struck
in her life— a novelty in an age when "spare the rod"
was still taken as a divine guide to parenting (116).
The implication is that only a brute could treat her
badly.
Even Mrs. Jewkes marvels at her delicacy: ". . .
you don't eat enough to keep Life and Soul together.
You are Beauty to the Bone, said the strange Wretch,
or you could not look so well as you do, with so
little Stomach, so little Rest, and so much pining and
whining for nothing at all" (117). What is "nothing
247
at all" to the coarse and common Mrs. Jewkes— to wit,
chastity— is heaven and earth to Pamela, and her
tenderness about her virtue serves in part to
establish her social and sexual delicacy. Thus,
Richardson wishes us to conclude, would a lady born
. 1 P
value her virtue. °
Pamela is from time to time told, directly or
indirectly, that she possesses other characteristics
of a lady. Mrs. Jervis tells her, when it becomes
clear that B is in love with her, that "he wish'd
. . . that he knew a Lady of Birth, just such another
as yourself, in Person and Mind, and he would marry
her To-morrow"; yet Pamela says she would not accept
his proposal if "he would offer to be rude first, as
he has twice done to poor me" (54). One fashionable
lady who visits B in Bedfordshire and insists on
inspecting Pamela remarks that "she must be better
1 Q
descended than you have told me!” (59). ^ It xs not
merely her accomplishments or her delicacy that make
people think so; she has "fair soft Hands and that
lovely Skin" (71). Mrs. Jewkes has "an Arm as thick
as [Pamela's] waist"; we know that Jewkes is fat, but
this also tells us how slender Pamela is (107). She
has, in short, not merely beauty, but a refined
beauty. Like David Copperfield's Little Em'ly, she is
the pearl produced by a family of hard-working
oysters. "[T]he denouement of [Pamela’s] drama . . .
is dependent upon the external recognition of an inner
nobility which equalizes the prerogatives of superior
rank” writes Nancy Miller, observing that "This inner
nobility, of course, would not mean much without the
deeper underpinnings of chastity" (37-38, 165).
All this goes to show that Pamela is socially
worthy of her eventual elevation. She deserves to be
Mrs. B. She is delicate both in body and in
sensibility, refined in manner, virtuous and
beautiful. As Kinkead-Weekes observes, it is "Because
Pamela is uniformly virtuous and does not presume
[that] she is wholly worthy of translation from
servant to Lady, and can fulfil her new duty and
status as well, if not better than, a duchess" (63).
But perhaps the most striking proof that Pamela is a
"real princess" appears early in the novel, after B's
first attempt to rape her:
I have read of a good Bishop that
was to be burnt for his Religion; and
he try'd how he could bear it, by
putting his fingers into the lighted
Candle: So I, t'other Day, try'd, when
Rachel's Back was turn'd, if I could
not scour the Pewter Plate she had
begun. I see I could do't by Degrees;
tho' I blister'd my Hand in two
Places. (77-78)
In this passage we have both the "real princess"
motif— just as the pea under the mattresses bruised
the princess in the fairy tale, so Pamela's resumption
of housework appropriate to her class has caused her
injury— and the pattern of the Christian martyr, who
steadfastly and willingly prepares to die a horrible
death for his faith. In his edition of the last
revised text of Pamela. Peter Sabor explains that
"Pamela has probably been reading John Foxe's Book of
Martyrs (1563), in which Thomas Bilney (who was not,
however, a bishop) places his hand in a candle in
preparaton for his death by burning" (522). It is
entirely appropriate that Pamela should be familiar
with the Actes and Monuments: it was a standard work
of popular devotion, readily available to the lower
classes (we know, for example, that the young David
Copperfield read extensively from it during his visits
to the working-class Barkis household several decades
later). The link established in this passage between
fairy tale trial and religious martyrdom is comical,
reflecting as it does Pamela's naive self-importance.
For the young waiting-maid, there is evidently a clear
parallel between being burnt at the stake and having
to scrub dishes— an association which the reader is
more likely to regard as a humorous opposition.
250
But the passage is not merely amusing; it bears
greater significance than its comic impact suggests.
This brief scene summarizes both the entire plot of
the novel and its central problem, for it conflates
neatly two dominant strands which make up the novel:
the fairy tale of "happily ever after" on earth and
the hagiography which celebrates the heavenly reward
for earthly suffering. The discomfort of many
critics, both eighteenth-century and modern, with
Richardson's first novel proceeds from the awkwardness
of his attempt to force into harmony two such
discordant purposes. As Kinkead-Weekes puts it,
"Richardson's technique and his intention are . . . at
odds" (65) . The disjunction between what we expect to
be the reward for Pamela's virtue and the reward that
she is in fact given seems like a betrayal of virtue
itself. We expect saints to win a heavenly crown, not
an earthly estate. Virtue is supposed to be its own
reward on earth, and provide hierarchical status only
in the afterlife.21 Rather than seeing Pamela join
the choir celestial, the novel ends "with the
heroine's integration into society . . . [the novel
is] structured by a trajectory of [earthly] ascent,"
not heavenly transfiguration (Miller xi).
The fundamental myth of Christianity is that low
birth and suffering conceal the true identity of the
chosen of God, an identity only revealed after death
and resurrection. But Pamela does not die. She lives
to triumph, however genteelly, over all her
persecutors, her revenge all the more sweet for being
ladylike. This is why Pamela has from the beginning
been seen by skeptics as necessarily hypocritical,
cynically manipulating a Booby's sexual desire for
her, shrewdly selling her hymen after driving up its
market value; Miller mentions Pamela's "gift for
negotiating [her] desirability while remaining intact"
(165). It is also one of the reasons why Clarissa is
regarded as the superior work; as his art matured,
Richardson objectified the clash of values through the
use of multiple viewpoints, rather than forcing his
readers into an uncomfortably pluralistic and
. . . 00 .
contradictory view of a solitary narrator. It is
difficult to feel that we can trust Pamela; like B, we
suspect that "she is an artful young baggage" (39).
However, as Kinkead-Weekes suggests, in so regarding
Pamela, we as readers may be reading the novel
naively.23 But the "real princess" must be morally,
as well as socially, worthy in order for Richardson's
stated purpose to have effect; the title page states
252
that the novel is "Published In order to- cultivate the
Principles of Virtue and Religion in the Minds of the
YOUTH of BOTH SEXES" (1). Central to Richardson's
purpose as a writer is the modeling of appropriate
moral attitudes and behavior; his Familiar Letters
states on the title pages that it is intended not only
to model style and form of correspondence, but also
"How to Think and Act Justly and Prudently" (Downs
frontispiece; Pamela 1). Pamela is not merely a model
of delicacy in outward behavior, but also of inward
morality.
Most obvious among instances of her righteousness
is Pamela's active defense of her chastity, recognized
as the essential virtue for all women (see Chapter 3).
Seaton, acknowledging the variety of local customs
governing relations between master and servants,
declares that "Christianity leaves [local practice] as
it finds it adjusted by the Civil Powers in Being, and
the Customs of the Place, . . . unless they are
contrary to the rules of Humanity and Chastity ..."
(73). For the servant, as we have seen in Chapter 2,
obedience to God surpasses in importance obedience to
the master. Seaton faults masters who give immoral
commands to their servants, and exhorts servants in
such a case to disobey (42).24
253
Richardson makes it almost embarrassingly clear
that Pamela will only disobey B in the matter of his
intended seduction; every other command he gives, she
complies with, even after he has officially dismissed
her from his employment, even during her imprisonment,
when he intends her dishonor. Kinkead-Weekes points
out Pamela's willingness to "obey him in all
directions but one"; the solitary exception ironically
parallels the single prohibition in Genesis: although
Pamela has a pretty clear definition of good and evil,
she refuses to eat of the fruit of direct knowledge.
But otherwise her obedience is by the (conduct) book,
so entire that at times one almost suspects that
Pamela has been reading Seaton's Conduct of Servants
in Great Families:
But when it is the hard Lot of a
Servant to meet with a Master so
barbarously unreasonable, as to insist
upon having somewhat done, which
cannot be done with a good Conscience,
and there is no pleasing him on any
other Terms than the certain
Forfeiture of the Divine Favour, there
is still a Decency of Carriage to be
observ'd towards this unreasonable
Master for the sake of the superior
Relation he bears to Us . . .
The Servant is first of all in this
unfortunate Case, with great Humility
and Submission to tell his Reasons,
which must hinder him from the doing
what he's bidden, and intreat him not
to require his Obedience in that Case
254
And perhaps this Humble and Modest
Remonstrance . . . will cause his
Master to . . . not dismiss him from
his Service, but rather be more
inclined to retain and value the
Servant, upon whose Fidelity he has
the best reason to depend, as being
one that makes a Conscience of his
Actions. (43-44)
If the servant does not encounter mercy and
forgiveness, says Seaton, he should still follow his
duty, relying upon God to sustain him through trials
and ordeals.
Now this is precisely what Pamela does— or
rather, precisely what she says she does. It is true
that she is obedient to Mr. B aside from his sexual
commands. But it is not the case that she refuses him
"with great Humility and Submission." In "Ejaculation
IV," the prayer that concludes his discussion of
disobeying wicked commands, Seaton writes,
". . . before I disobey I will be infallibly sure [the
command is impious or unjust]; and when thus certain,
I will with all Becomingness and Modesty decline a
Submission, not with Reproaches, or Disdain, or
Sauciness, but with a Spirit of Meekness, . . ." (70).
Pamela does in fact respond to Mr. B with reproaches,
with disdain, with sauciness, and in a spirit about as
far from meekness as a well-brought-up servant girl’s
can be.
255
To begin with, there are Pamela's oral retorts to
I
Mr. B's attempts either to seduce or to bully her. j
t
Far from following Seaton's directions to register a i
"Humble and Modest Remonstrance," "she is inclined to
be 'pert,' and even openly contemptuous, and has
achieved only partial success in humbling herself"
(Kinkead-Weekes 35). Of course, any reader of servant
conduct books would know that Pamela's saucy language
is a clear indication that she is that abomination, a
i
proud servant, disobedient and irreverent:
i
And duty is not only a matter of
actions, but of demeanour, and of j
state of mind. This is where the real '
conflict lies, for Pamela finds it
very hard. She is proud, pert,
"saucy" by temperament; her quick
tongue and intelligence are always
liable to run away with her. Her 1
moral clarity on the limits of duty is
one thing, her progress to true 1
dutifulness another. (Kinkead-Weekes I
39 ) ;
Admittedly, Mr. B's sometimes lewd and often
discourteous speech to his servant breaks the
boundaries of his place just as surely as does
Pamela's.
*
i
There are moments when it is clear that master J
and servant are quarreling; Robbins refers to "the
quibbling, wordy battles between Pamela and her
master" (79-80): 1
256
Well, for once I'll submit myself, to <
tell you, Hussy, said he to me, you
may stay a Fortnight longer, till I
see my Sister Pavers: Do you hear what
I say to you, Statue! can you neither
speak, nor be thankful?— Your Honour
frights me so, said I, that I can
hardly speak: But I will venture to
say, that I have only to beg, as a
Favour, that I may go to my Father and
Mother.— Why, Fool, says he, won't you
like to go to wait on my Sister
Pavers? Sir, said I, I was once fond
of that Honour; but you was pleased to
say, I might be in Danger from her !
Ladyship's Nephew, or he from me?—
D d Impertinence! said he; do you
hear, Mrs. Jervis, do you hear, how
she retorts upon me? Was ever such
matchless Assurance!— (63)
"As far as linguistic equipment is concerned, Pamela
and Mr. B fight on more equal terms than any
nineteenth-century master and servant," observes
I
Robbins (82), and he is right; the two are equally !
matched in intellect, wit, and logic-chopping. Pamela i
I
never forgets one of B's trumped-up excuses to keep
her hanging around the estate, such as the one
mentioned here, that he intends to preserve her virtue
from the encroachments of Lady Davers's nephew Jacky
H. And she never misses an opportunity to prove to
him that she is listening to (and writing down) every
word he says.
Such a battle of wits between equals is
invigorating, even amusing, as when Beatrice and
257
Benedick engage in verbal thrust-and-parry; but the
battle of wits is complicated by the inherent power
relationship between servant and master, and by the
power politics of sex and gender:
In our more egalitarian times there
may not be much appreciation of the
problem of ••presumption": the
implications of Pamela's status and
duty as a servant. Modern readers are
likely to sympathise with her
rebelliousness, her assertion of human
rights, her flings at social injustice
and the abuse of power and privilege
by the rich. . . .
Some sharp criticism of Pamela was
directed at its social subversiveness,
encouraging the lower classes to
aspire above their station. (Kinkead-
Weekes 37)
Even when we realize that the conduct books encouraged
both servants and masters to regard themselves as
equals in the sight of God, or occasionally hinted
that, in the afterlife, their positions might very
well be reversed, it still seems to have been shocking
to some of Richardson's contemporaries to behold a
servant-girl actually talking back to her master,
breaking St. Paul's command to servants "Not [to
answer] again."
But according to Nancy Miller, it is precisely
her awareness of her own spiritual value that provokes
Pamela's pertness:
If Mr. B.'s earlier and more devious
messages rendered Pamela mute,
directness elicits an articulate
response. Her conviction of spiritual
equality (in the face of a threat to
it) leads to a vigorous verbal defense
that contrasts sharply with the
ineffectuality of the physical one.
Pamela's argument is that Mr. B. has
defied the social conventions
governing their relations. By his
actions, the master has momentarily
removed the barrier that separates him
from his servant. The physical
rapprochement of the literal distance
between them has threatened the
vertical or hierarchical axis. Mr. B.
has lowered himself to Pamela's level.
At the same time, Pamela claims that
her own place (what belongs to her)
has been disturbed. . . . (42)
Part of Miller's line of reasoning is that Pamela must
learn to interpret for herself, under her parents'
guidance, the initially ambiguous messages and
gestures B aims at her.25 Once she understands that
he intends to seduce her, she becomes angry not only
at the threat to her virtue, but at the carelessness
with which he treats the social order. At times, she
sounds as indignant as the authors of some conduct
books when contemplating rebellious servants; but what
Pamela must contend with is an unruly master. He will
not stay on his side of the line that divides high
from low. B steps out of his place in the hierarchy
in pursuing Pamela, in making a scandal in front of
his other servants, and not least, in interfering in
259
the duties of those servants— including the
housekeeper, Mrs. Jervis, whose job it is to hire,
fire and supervise all female servants. If Pamela is
subversive in disobeying the laws governing her place,
Mr. B is equally dangerous to the status quo by virtue
of his ungovernable passion.
Besides her oral "answering back," Pamela attacks
Mr. B verbally through her writing. This attack is
multi-layered; to begin with, simply by virtue of
telling her story, Pamela seizes power over Mr. B; his
obsession throughout their conflict with getting his
hands (and his eyes) on her manuscript parallels, if
it does not exceed, his desire to get his hands (and
feast his eyes) on her body.26 Robbins indicates that
Pamela has upended the usual power structure when he
writes of "the sense of dangerous, misplaced worldly
power that the servant's narrative role evokes" (102-
3). It is masters who should tell stories about
servants, not vice versa.
Poor B's muddled attempts to define the story
that Pamela is writing are clearly doomed to fail; his
story, the romance, is outdated.
Needless to say, Mr. B. is not always
so content to take Pamela's word as
authoritative, since what it subserves
is a plot of typically progressive
ideology . . . [I]n fact, B. works
260
hard to reverse the spell of Pamela’s
progressive plotting with his own
inventions, which are
characteristically aristocratic in
ideology and often even take written
form. (McKeon 358-59)
When B threatens Pamela with the fate of Lucrece, he
mocks her: "we shall make out between us, before we
have done, a pretty Story in Romance, I warrant ye!"
(42). Later, when he kidnaps Pamela and sends her
father a letter explaining that he's merely
intervening to prevent Pamela's elopement with an
impoverished clergyman, he insists that her letters
home have been "romantick Invention . . . In short,
the Girl's Head's turn'd by Romances, and such idle
Stuff ..." (90). During Pamela's imprisonment, he
complains to his jailer, Mrs. Jewkes, of Pamela's
"fantastical Innocence, which the romantick Idiot
makes such a work about" (145). But it is his fantasy
that her innocence is fantastical, and little does he
suspect that he is merely a character in the "work"
she is making about her virtue:
Because it is a documentary history,
Pamela is not a romance, and it is
singularly qualified thereby for moral
instruction and improvement. The
familiar rationale links Richardson
not only to the established strain of
naive empiricism in narrative but also
to the Protestant conviction that
concrete and sensible means provide
the best mediation to moral and
spiritual ends. (McKeon 357)
As B finally begins to recognize that he has
fallen in love with her, he begs to see the rest of
•'the pretty Novel," so that he may "be better
directed" (201). He admires, in this passage, "your
Plots, and my Plots";
Yet despite his virtuousity, in the
battling of plotters B. is, of course,
no match for Pamela. It is her
"little History of myself" (173), not
his several versions of her, that
closely approximates the larger
lineaments of Pamela, because it is
letters written by her, not by him,
that overwhelmingly dominate the
narrative. (McKeon 3 60)
He submits, gradually, to her literary authority; in
one sense, her "surprizing kind of Novel" is the story
of the squire's capitulation to a servant girl, not
the old-fashioned aristocratic tale of droit du
seigneur (213).
Fielding's hostile interpretation of
Pamela — a hypocritical maid
manipulating her booby master— clearly
detects a real current of the novel;
Pamela's use of the narrative
privilege, among other weapons, to
hold her own in an unequal class and
sexual struggle. It is in large part
her letters . . . that win her
master's heart. Her power is in her
pen. "Clearly Richardson was obsessed
with the power of letters to change
. the world." Yes, but no such
obsession is required in order to spot
an impulse to world transformation
when servants seize their pens or open
their mouths. (Robbins 99)
Besides the sense in which, simply by virtue of
seizing the pen and telling the tale, Pamela subverts
B's authority, there is also her habit of
sarcastically commenting on and interpreting his
behavior in her manuscript. In other words, we have
an "annotated" edition of Mr. B; Pamela is an
eighteenth-century "spin doctor" of her domestic
politics, instructing her readers (initially B
himself) in how to view her characters and their
situation as it unfolds.
O this Angel of a Master! this fine
Gentleman! this gracious Benefactor to
your poor Pamela! who was to take care
of me at the Prayer of his good dying
Mother; who was so careful of me, lest
I should be drawn in by my Lord
Pavers1s Nephew; that he would not let
me go to Lady Pavers1s; This very
Gentleman (yes, I must call him
Gentleman, tho' he has fallen from the
Merit of that Title) has degraded
himself to offer Freedoms to his poor
Servant! (34)
By the time we get B's version of the incident— "when
I was a little kind, said he, to you in the Summer
house, and you carry'd yourself so foolishly upon it"
(40)— it is too late; Pamela has already prescribed
our interpretation of the event.
263
Pamela's sarcastic commentary often is given as
her thoughts, which she dares not express to B, but
does confide to her parents. When B accuses Pamela of
being ashamed to see him after his first advances, she
writes: "I ashamed to see voul thought I: Very pretty
indeed!— But I said nothing" (44). When B accuses her
of being "a Devil incarnate," "(0 how People will
sometimes, thought I, call themselves by the right
Names!— )" (45). After he sees Pamela in her country
clothes, and can't decide whether to "bear, nor
forbear her," B "look'd as silly as such a poor girl
as I, I thought afterwards" (62). In response to B's
proposal to find her a husband who will comply with
his desires, Pamela thinks, "0 black, perfidious
Creature . . . ! what an Implement art thou in the
Hands of Lucifer, to ruin the innocent Heart!— But
still I dissembled; for I fear'd much both him and the
Place I was in" (86). Without directly accusing him,
Pamela has placed him within her own frame of
reference: he should be ashamed of himself; he is a
devil incarnate; he looks silly; he is a tool of the
devil. "Oh!" she exclaims on paper, "what can the
abject Poor do against the mighty Rich, when they are
determin'd to oppress?" (95) .
264
On a few occasions, however, Pamela breaks her
silence, and favors her hearers with direct sarcasm.
When the ladies of fashion come to inspect her, and
proceed to comment on her beauty and accomplishments,
cracking jokes at Pamela’s expense, she first comments
in writing, "I know what I could have said, if I
durst"; but a moment later, she does dare, though the
ladies fail to understand;
Says Lady Towers. can the pretty
Image speak, Mrs. Jervis? I vow she
has speaking Eyes! 0 you little
Rogue, says she, and tapt me on the
Cheek, you seem born to undo, or to be
undone!
God forbid, and please your
Ladyship, said I, it should be
either!— I beg, said I, to withdraw;
for the Sense I have of my
Unworthiness, renders me unfit for
such a Presence. (58)
"... Pamela's tone makes clear that she know they
are no better than she is, apart from their 'birth,'"
comments Kinkead-Weekes (25). " . . . glad was I,
when I got out of the Hearing of them," remarks Pamela
(59). On one occasion, she favors B with her direct
sarcasm; B has assembled Mrs. Jervis and Mr. Longman,
who has been pleading on Pamela's behalf, and insists
that Pamela display to her allies the saucy pertness
he complains of;
Well, Sir, said I, since it seems your
Greatness wants to be justified by my
265
Lowness, and I have no Desire you
should suffer in the Sight of your
Family, I will say, on my bended Knees
(and so I kneeled down) that I have
been a very faulty, and a very
ingrateful Creature to the best of
Masters! I have been very perverse,
and sawcy; and have deserv'd nothing
at your Hands, but to be turn'd out of
your Family with Shame and Disgrace.
I, therefore, have nothing to say for
myself, but that I am not worthy to
stay, and so cannot wish to stay, and
will not stay . . . (75)
By now, it is clear what Pamela means when she
underlines "best." Since her heart's desire is to
return home, it is obvious that she hopes that, by
means of such a false self-condemnation, to be tossed
away the more quickly. One is reminded of the story
of the Tar-Baby (a tale told by another oppressed
servant), with Brer Rabbit's plaintive cry: "Please
don't throw me in that briar-patch!" We know full
well that Pamela thinks herself sufficiently "worthy"
to stay in any genteel household; her intended meaning
is that B is not worthy to have such a servant.
Surely Kinkead-Weekes is mistaken when he reads this
scene as an "almost ritualistic attempt at self-
humiliation" (39) .
Like Shakespeare's Rosalind, Pamela lives most
vividly for the reader when she subverts the status *
quo; what McKeon calls her "dangerous insubordination
266
as a servant" is exhilarating precisely because it
breaks taboos by which our culture still is
restricted: codes of class, gender, and conduct, the
codes of conduct books for servants. Pamela rewrites
the text of her world, tames her wild master and his
society through her manuscript, and through her
subversive servitude, turns her world topsy-turvey in
order to turn it right-side up. For her part in
restoring the status quo she has been much criticized;
what is often overlooked is that Pamela gains the
world on her own terms. She is no Restoration Country
Wife, but a proper apprentice lady of the eighteenth
century, unwilling to lose the world (either this one
or the next) for love; such notions belong to romance,
1
1
not to Richardson's "new species of writing . . .
different from the pomp and parade of romance-writing"
(Selected Letters 41). Yet Pamela, for all her
practical common sense, is slippery as an eel. As
critics, we may think, like B, to pin her down, to
threaten her with a theoretical Time of Reckoning.
But she eludes us; when we try to impose our notions
on her story, she replies, as she does to B: "that is
your Comment; but it does not appear so in the Text"
(200). Like B, we set about "to strip . . . pretty
Pamela," to find the body underneath the text— but for
267
us, if not for B, there is no body but the text, in
all its pleasing, irritating ambiguity.
268
Notes
1 The controversy between the Pamelists and the
Anti-Pamelists remains, built into the very structure
of eighteenth-century studies. In most undergraduate
and graduate surveys Of the early novel, Pamela is
taught with Shamela and Joseph Andrews. the novel and
its two most famous parodies receiving egual
attention.
2 Kinkead-Weekes asserts vehemently the viewpoint
that "The 'sexual' scenes then are not about sex; they
are extensions and intensifications of a treatment of
pride" (109); however, his reasoning is weakened by
his argument that since the sex scenes are
mechanically repetitious that they are therefore
obviously not pornographic (107). Mechanical
repetition is one of the hallmarks of pornography, as
is pointed out by Stephen Marcus in The Other
Victorians: "... repetition is a central formal
attribute of pornography . . . accompanied by minute,
mechanical variations . . . pornography is an
extremely conventionalized form of expression" (59-
60) .
3 Cf. this passage from The Servants Book of
Knowledge, by Anthony Heasel [1773?]:
The Chambermaid's first
consideration must be to attend
properly to the care and management of
her mistress's cloaths . . . (37).
. . . The house-maid's business
is, under the house-keeper, to look
after and keep the furniture clean, in
the discharge of which she is to take
her instructions from the house
keeper; but if she would acquire a
good reputation, and deserve a good
husband, she must be honest,
laborious, and cleanly. (57)
4 A man's shirt was considered an undergarment in
the early eighteenth century; elaborate waistcoats
were worn under coats and over shirts: "Characteristic
of the first half century was the dependence on the
waistcoast to cover the shirt" (Brooke 101).
269
5 There is evidence of conflicting attitudes
towards this servant, perhaps because of her intimacy
with her mistress:
There was much more friendliness and
companionship between employer and
servant in the eighteenth than in the
following century, and often her own-
woman was her mistress's confidant.
It was said that she was often lazy,
impertinent and immoral, that she
carried notes and arranged clandestine
meetings with the lover, who was
wooing an heiress or capturing the
heart of a married woman, and that she
did not go unrewarded. (Bayne-Powell
141)
The footman addresses the maid with peculiar venom:
My dear Ladv1s Woman, . . . must
now come on the carpet. If the high
veneration which I have for ladies of
all ranks did not confine my pen, how
copious a subject have I now to
expatiate on! But be cautious, let
not resentment get the better of
prudence and good manners! Oh! That
this check I put upon myself may be
sufficient to displace this lump of
deceit and hypocrisy from the
confidence of every one! I will
immediately find one to supply her
place. As to her offices about a
Lady's person, a cherry-cheek'd
country girl will put on her shoes and
stocking, lace her stays, &c. equally
as well, as a pale-faced, half-bred,
fantastical creature, fit only to fill
her head with vapours and lies. (The
Second Table 62-63)
6 The housekeeper of a household, the highest
female servant, usually had risen from under-servant
to a place of authority: "She had the charge and
supervision of all the woman servants, she generally
engaged and dismissed them, and often paid their
wages. She saw that they did their duty, that the
house was well kept, the linen mended and replaced
270
when necessary, the coal cellars filled, the beds
aired.” (Bayne-Powell 135-6)
7 Of the ambiguity of Pamela's class standing,
McKeon observes that "Pamela has learned to
internalize and to project an expectation of herself
for which no accessible social category exists" (371).
Although I agree with him that her background
conflicts with her position in the servant hierarchy,
her status as a lady's maid seems clear.
8 It would seem that the waiting-gentlewoman was
the position familiar in the nineteenth century as the
"companion."
9 John Andrews's exceptional piety may constitute
a vestigial bit of autobiography on Richardson's part;
he writes to Stinstra,
[My father] designed me for the Cloth.
I was fond of this Choice: But while I
was very young, some heavy Losses
having disabled him from supporting me
as genteelly as he wished in an
Education proper for the Function, he
left me to choose at the Age of 15 or
16, a Business; having been able to
give me only common school-learning: I
chose that of a Printer, tho’ a
Stranger to it, as what I thought
would gratify my Thirst after Reading.
(Selected Letters 229)
Perhaps Richardson conceived of Andrews, like himself,
as having been disappointed in his vocation. At any
rate, like his creature Pamela, Richardson took
advantage of the educational opportunities of his
employment to better himself.
10 According to Richardson, the parents in the
history on which Pamela is based also turned to
school-keeping: "When their misfortunes happened
first, they attempted a little school, in their
village, where they were much beloved; he teaching
writing and the first rules of arithmetic to boys; his
wife plain needle-works to girls, and to knit and
spin; but that it answered not ..." (Selected
Letters 39-40). The level of education and skills in
271
the original family seems clearly to have been the
model for those of John and Elizabeth Andrews.
11 A footnote in the text of the Life of Pamela
reads:
Whoever put together the other
Account that has been published of
Pamela, was entirely misinformed of
the Cause of Mr. Andrews1s
Misfortunes, when he makes her impute
it to his having done bevond his
Abilities for two Brothers . . . this,
and her saving she was the youngest of
several Children. . . . have been
supply1d bv the Compiler's Invention,
• • •
We shall rectify a thousand more
Mistakes . ♦ . (2)
12 Like John Andrews, Richardson suffered the
death of two brothers; he writes to Lady Bradshaigh,
"Two Brothers very dear to me I lost abroad" (110).
John Carroll, editor of the Selected Letters, notes
that "I have no information on the brothers who died
abroad."
13 It is interesting to note that Richardson, in
the letter to Aaron Hill mentioned earlier, observes
that the parents of the original "Pamela" had been
"ruined by suretiships" (39). According to Black1s
Law Dictionary, a "contract of suretyship" is a
Contract whereby one party engages to
be answerable for debt, default, or
miscarriage of another and arises when
one is liable to pay debt or discharge
obligation, and party is entitled to
indemnity from person who should have
made the payment in the first instance
before surety was so compelled. A
contract whereby one person engages to
be answerable for the debt, default,
or miscarriage of another. . . .
(1293)
Of course, we only have Richardson's word for the
details of the original Pamela-story. but such
similarities indicate that the novel accords at least
with Richardson's memory of the original history— or
what he claimed was the original history.
14 See Miller: Mr. B's "arguments [for marrying
Pamela] are based on two interlocking premises: that
his marrying Pamela automatically raises her . . . and
that Pamela contains her own nobility . . . " (49).
15 In his study of master-servant relationships
in Renaissance drama, Hoskins gives some attention to
unequal marriage: "Equally important is the
misalliance theme, there being considerable evidence
in the drama, especially in the comedy of manners,
that lower class men sought inordinately to marry
above them in social station" (3). And similarly:
The frequent recurrence of the
misalliance theme in the comedy,
especially the satirical comedy, of
the period suggests that long-
established class taboos concerning
marriage were being disregarded. . . .
One aspect of the social ferment of
the time was misalliance, which seems
to have interested the playwrights and
their audiences. (215)
16 Miller mentions the fact that Pamela is a
"Cinderella" figure, and that the novel's fairy tale
pattern "invited instant parody." I must take issue,
however, with her conclusion, in which she states that
"Pamela's success has not been rewritten as serious
literature, [although] it remains the blueprint for
bestsellers" (50). Jane Evre also employs the fairy
tale pattern of Pamela's success, and is a serious
literary treatment of virtue rewarded.
17 Kinkead-Weekes, commenting on the scene in
which B sees Pamela in her country clothes and
pretends not to know her, observes that "His
'freedoms' will be 'innocent' now, because in becoming
the ordinary country girl she must have put off the
high-flown ideas of chastity that belonged to the
over-educated lady's maid" (15).
18 The consideration of Pamela's innate gentility
prefigures the concern in Victorian literature with
defining the "true" gentleman, and the conclusion
presented in many novels of that era that not all born
273
gentlemen are gentlemanly; such Dickensian characters
as Sir Mulberry Hawk and Steerforth come to mind.
Nevertheless, while lower-class people may
occasionally show superior virtue in Victorian novels,
social climbers are commonly depicted as villains,
such as the Veneerings of Our Mutual Friend, or
Ferdinand Lopez in Trollope's The Prime Minister.
Those who rise socially and retain their inherent
goodness, such as the Boffins, are rare; it is perhaps
significant that the Boffins do not seek to rise, but
benefit from an inheritance which they then employ
charitably.
19 McKeon, erroneously, I believe, reads this
comment as denoting "the blurring of sumptuary
distinctions" (370), despite the fact that Lady Brooks
is admiring Pamela's "Face and Shape," not her
wardrobe.
20 Pamela also refers to herself, during her
imprisonment in Lincolnshire, as God's "Handmaid,"
echoing the Annunciation in Luke i ("Behold the
handmaid of the Lord") and thereby associating herself
with the Virgin Mary (149). Part of Richardson's
point is, of course, that God "hath regarded the low
estate of his handmaiden" and has "exalted them of low
degree." Nevertheless, the implicit comparison is one
instance of why some critics accused the novel of
being not only immoral, but impious.
9 1 * * •
See Miller: "... rewards begin with
society's recognition of [Pamela's] spiritual
superiority" (49).
22 In arguing for his "dramatic" view of the
novel, Kinkead-Weekes states that "The fact that
Pamela is the only source of narrative makes it too
easy to confer the reliability of her reportage onto
her interpretation also . . . "(24). Of course, his
point is that Pamela's interpretation is unreliable,
which is not the same thing as saying it is limited.
23 Kinkead-Weekes has argued convincingly that B
is not the simple villain he is often taken for, and
that B's chief problem is not really how he may most
efficiently seduce Pamela, but how he may reconcile
his stereotyped view of servant-girls with his actual
experience of Pamela's excellence:
274
He is having to give up, painfully,
the view of Pamela on which all his
actions are founded. To understand
her as she really is— that is, no
hypocrite, but a genuinely moral
being— is to face not only the need to
give up hope of seducing her, but also
the need to change his whole view of
life if he is not to lose her
altogether. (17)
24 Here is the complete passage in Seaton:
Amongst the Things which a Servant is
not to do for his Master, and is an
Exception from that General Rule of,
Servants, obey vour Masters in all
Things. we may reckon the Catering for
their Lusts, the vile and abject
Office of procuring a Mistress for
their Wantonness, or any such
abominable Task by which they become
necessarily the Instruments of sin,
and are meanly serviceable to the most
gross and foul Enormities of their
Master.
Shou'd the Servant be also put
. . . upon beating, or the doing an
Act of cruelty to a Person known to be
poor, harmless and innocent; these are
Employments no Master has a Right to
exact from his Servant; because he is
chain’d up from yielding Obedience, by
the Laws of that Gospel, which enjoins
us, no longer to yield our Members
Servants unto Uncleanness, and to
Iniquity unto Iniquity; but to yield
them Servants to Righteousness unto
Holiness. Rom. vi. 19. (67-68)
25 Cf. Miller on the interpretation of B’s
actions:
Although Pamela's parents are
separated from her in space, their
moral universe is ubiquitous. Despite
the fundamental impotence caused by
their poverty, they are able to warn
their daughter of impending danger,
for they see her as a character in a
well-known scenario of seduction and
betrayal. Mr. Andrews, therefore, can
interpret the text for his untutored
daughter. . . . Pointing out every
ambiguity and drawing his own
conclusions, the performs an
explication de texte. First, the terms
of the master's benevolence: "And oh,
that fatal word! that he would be kind
to you, if you would do as vou should
do almost kills us with fears" (6).
"As you should do" in Mr. Andrews's
rewriting, removes all doubt (Pamela's
not the reader's) as to Mr. B.'s
definition of "good": Pamela is to
benefit from Mr. B.'s generosity at
the price of her favors. . . . The
Andrewses are good hermeneuts (if
Pamela isn't) and know how to
interpret. (39)
26 Cf. Kinkead-Weekes: As B and Pamela begin
their reconciliation, Jewkes discovers Pamela's
journal:
B's desire to read her journal is not
mere curiosity, but the logical
outcome of his experience of sincerity
and true knowledge. The journal is
important in two ways: it will help
him to know and understand Pamela as a
person, and it is also a moral
education— as Richardson hoped the
novel would be for its readers, of
whom B has been the first, from the
second letter onwards. (53)
27 McKeon mentions B's "own subjugation to the
creative power of her journal" and "B's
acknowledgement that she has in a sense already
created him" (362).
276
Epilogue
In many ways, Pamela can be seen as Samuel
Richardson's metaphorical autobiography: like his
creature Pamela, Richardson rose from relative poverty
to a position of professional prominence sufficient to
gain him social prestige and the company of ladies and
gentlemen, some even of the aristocracy. "Virtue
Rewarded" is not merely the subtitle of his fiction;
j
emblematically, it represents his own estimate of
himself and his career: apprentice, journeyman, master
printer and popular novelist. Of his apprenticeship,
he writes Stinstra:
I served a diligent Seven Years to
[the trade of printer], to a Master
who grudged every Hour to me, that
tended not to his Profit, even of
those Times of Leisure & Diversion,
which the Refractoriness of my Fellow-
Servants oblicred him to allow them, &
were usually allowed by other Masters
to their Apprentices. I stole from
the Hours of Rest & Relaxation, my
Reading Times for Improvement of my
Mind; . . . I took Care, that even my
Candle was of my own purchasing, that
I might not in the most trifling
Instance make my Master a Sufferer (&
who used to call me the Pillar of his
House) & not to disable myself by
Watching or Sitting-up, to perform ray
Duty to him in the Day-time. (Selected
Letters 229)
277
We have no reason to regard Richardson’s account of
his apprenticeship as false, however self-
congratulatory it may be. It is striking to note that
even the most stringent rules of the conduct book
authors are outdone by Richardson's care not to
defraud his master, even though it is clear he did not
like his employer. If Richardson's progress may be
taken as any sort of model, it looks as though the
conduct book writers were correct: strict obedience
was the way to rise.
It is odd to consider that the most fantastic
aspect of Pamela, the fairy-tale ending, in fact
reflects its author's real life history. We may
speculate on the degree to which the male author
identified with his female character: for example,
Pamela's position as social and sexual inferior may
reflect young Samuel Richardson's sense of
disappointment at being relegated to a trade
apprenticeship rather than being allowed to pursue the
University education which would have prepared him for
his original vocation, the ministry. He seems clearly
to have carried out his desire to instruct others in
religion and morals, albeit under the guise of fiction
rather than in cassock and pulpit. Was he haunted by
his disappointment? Did he, for the rest of his life,
278
resent his inferior status— and were the blows to his
pride assuaged by his acquaintance with the great? We
may read between the lines of his letters and make an
educated guess, but we can never pluck out the heart
of his mystery.
Aside from her function as fictional anima.
Pamela interests the literary historian in a different
way: she is, as nearly as I can estimate, the only
protagonist who is a servant in English fiction— save
perhaps for her "brother" Joseph, of whom more later.
Until her marriage, Pamela is a legitimate servant:
favored and pampered, perhaps, educated above her
station, but nevertheless recognizable as a domestic
servant both from her own remarks and those of others
within the novel and from the knowledge gleaned from
conduct books for servants. To be sure, she is not
the only servant in English fiction— they abound in
every era— but none of the others is the central
figure of the novel.
Moll Flanders comes closest to being a "real"
servant, but she is so eager to climb socially that
really she spends very little of her long life in
domestic servitude. The parallels between Moll and
Pamela are fascinating, as are the dissimilarities.
Pamela, for example, clearly regards herself as highly
privileged to be a personal servant of her good Lady
B, and constantly expresses her pleasure, early in the
novel, at not being a burden on her poor parents.
Moll, on the other hand, says that at the age of
eight, "I was terrified with News, that the
Magistrates, as I think they call'd them, had order'd
that I should go to Service" (12) . The little girl
sobs pitifully whenever domestic service is mentioned
to her:
they will take me away, savs I, and
put me to Service, and I can't Work
House-Work . . . and if I can't do it,
they will Beat me, and the Maids will
Beat me to make me do great Work, and
I am but a little Girl, and I can't do
it, and then I cry'd again, till I
could not speak any more . . . . (12)
The age difference between the two girls may in part
account for their divergent reactions; after all,
Pamela is twelve, old enough to have a clear sense of
the economic benefits both to her parents and to
herself of her going into service. Moreover, she has
been chosen by an exemplary lady to be a favorite
maid, not a scullery-laborer. Young Moll seems to
fear her fate at the bottom of the pecking order.
When Moll does go into service at age fourteen,
however, her position in the household is very similar
to Pamela's. Like Pamela, she is provided with a
lady1s education:
Here I continu'd till I was between 17
and 18 Years old, and here I had all
the Advantages for my Education that
could be imagin'd; the Lady had
Masters home to the House to teach her
Daughters to Dance, and to speak
French, and to Write, and others to
teach them Musick; and as I was always
with them, I learn'd as fast as they;
. . . they were as heartily willing to
learn me every thing that they had
been taught themselves, as I could be
to take the Learning. (18)
Moll, however, is treated more as a member of the
family than Pamela, for Moll mentions that "I us'd
always to lye with the Eldest Sister," a degree of
intimacy that implies equality (29). In most
households, maids would share a bed, as would
daughters; it is a mark of Pamela's exalted status
that she has her own room. But it is never hinted
that Pamela shares her bed with anyone other than her
fellow servants Mrs. Jervis and Mrs. Jewkes until
after her marriage.
We do not know whether Richardson ever read Moll
Flanders. The novel was first published in 1722, by
which time Richardson was, he tells Stinstra, in
business for himself, neither apprentice nor
journeyman, but a master, admitted to the Stationers'
Company (Selected Letters 229-230; Eaves and Kimpel
17-18). We also know, from his letter to Stinstra,
that he selected the trade of printer "tho' a Stranger
to it, as what I thought would gratify my Thirst after
reading" (229). Perhaps he read Moll. though it
hardly seems to be Richardson's type of book; he may
even have had Moll Flanders in mind as an example of
the sort of pernicious romance that Pamela was
intended to replace. It seems more likely that he
read Robinson Crusoe, a more "moral" fiction, or at
least one in which an obvious moral is constantly
drawn. Crusoe's piety closely resembles Richardson's,
and the young printer may have found the 1719 novel
more congenial to his taste. Moreover, if Richardson
did indeed enter his trade because he loved reading,
it would be surprising if he were not acquainted with
the publishing phenomenon of his early years as an
independent businessman.1
For our purposes, the most interesting part of
Robinson Crusoe is the master-servant relationship
between Crusoe and Friday. Although before he
actually sees Friday, Crusoe speaks of his desire "to
get a Savage into my Possession" (155), and reckons
that he could manage as many as three natives "so as
to make them entirely Slaves to me" (156), once he
witnesses Friday's desperate escape from his captors,
he reacts in a more egalitarian manner: "It came now
very warmly upon my thoughts, and indeed irresistibly,
that now was my Time to get me a Servant, and perhaps
a Companion, or Assistant; and that I was call'd
plainly by Providence to save this poor Creature's
Life ..." (158). After over twenty-five years of
silence, Crusoe is delighted to hear the voice of a
fellow-creature, and it is perhaps this gratitude, as
well as the belief that he is called upon by God to
save Friday's life, that accounts for the change in
tone. Clearly, their relationship is one of master
and servant, not owner and slave; Crusoe speaks with
pride of "my man Friday" just as, in Dorothy Sayers's
mysteries, Lord Peter Wimsey speaks with proprietary
respect of "my man Bunter."
At first, Crusoe is nervous about having his new
servant near him while he sleeps; he makes a tent for
Friday outside the inner wall of his "castle," and
builds a door which he bars at night "so that Friday
could no way come at me in the inside of my innermost
wall" (163) . Crusoe soon realizes, however, that
Friday is no threat:
But I needed none of all this
Precaution; for never Man had a more
faithful, loving, sincere Servant,
than Friday was to me; without
Passions, sullenness or Designs,
283
perfectly oblig'd and engag'd; his
very Affections were ty'd to me, like
those of a Child to a Father; and I
dare say, he would have sacrific'd his
Life for the saving mine upon any
occasion whatsoever; the many
Testimonies he gave me of this, put it
out of doubt, and soon convinc'd me,
that I needed to use no Precautions as
to my Safety on his Account. (163)
In short, Friday is the perfect servant, by
eighteenth-century standards; he is as good and
faithful a servant as those prescribed in the Bible,
as, in fact, the apprentice Samuel Richardson himself.
He is faithful, loving, sincere; even-tempered and
loyal in a filial sense to his master, who stands in
loco parentis to the obedient native. Crusoe tells us
that "Friday not only work'd very willingly, and very
hard; but did it very chearfully," remarking further
upon "his simple unfeign'd Honesty," that causes his
master "really to love the Creature" (166). He seems
to embody every virtue proclaimed in the conduct books
for servants.
As Friday is the perfect servant, so is Crusoe
the perfect master, not only patiently teaching his
servant those skills necessary to his position, but
also doing his best to instruct him in the true
religion. He provides clothing, shelter and food for
Friday, taking seriously his role as protector of his
domestic dependent. The relation between this master
and servant, both of whom so willingly and lovingly
perform their mutual duties, is as Edenic as their
environment; one suspects that Defoe is envisioning as
perfect a prelapsarian pair in Crusoe and Friday as
Adam and Eve in a different relationship. In fact,
Crusoe and Friday comprise a perfect marriage, as
marriage was then understood: one partner serves, the
other instructs and protects, and both dutifully meet
the other's needs. Such flawless harmony between man
and servant subsequently vanishes from literature
until the early twentieth century, when Bertie Wooster
and Jeeves comically, and Lord Peter Wimsey and Bunter
more seriously, provide modern versions of the perfect
balance possible in unequal friendship.
Fielding's servants fall into different
categories, depending on his purpose. Shamela, for
example, is simply a parodic distortion of Pamela,
reflected in a fun-house mirror that throws in a
hilariously twisted light all the naivete of her
original, "that young Politician," as Fielding calls
her (313). She is in no wise intended to be an
accurate portrayal of an eighteenth-century servant;
indeed, if Fielding were more serious than I take him
to be in this pamphlet, we could still only regard
285
Shamela as a projection of a gentleman's somewhat
paranoid fears about servants. His point, I take it,
is to expose what he believes to be the novel's
dangerous subtext:
2dlv, Young Gentlemen are here
taught, that to marry their Mother's
Chambermaids, and to indulge the
Passion of Lust, at the Expence of
Reason and Common Sense, is an Act of
Religion, Virtue, and Honour; and,
indeed the surest Road to Happiness.
3dlv. All Chambermaids are strictly
enjoyned to look out after their
Masters; they are taught to use little
Arts to that purpose: And lastly, are
countenanced in Impertinence to their
Superiours, and in betraying the
Secrets of Families. (355-56)
Fielding could in this passage easily pass for a
writer of conduct books for servants; what is striking
here is the almost pompous tone of ultra-conservatism.
One suspects, after reading such a passage, that
Fielding is deeply threatened by the suggestion of
social-climbing servants— curious, considering that in
later life he married a servant.
It has been said that Fielding originally
designed another parody in Joseph Andrews, but that
his creative genius sprang forth in the form of Parson
Adams and led him into the "comic Epic-Poem in Prose"
(4). I have discussed in Chapter 3 the ways that
Joseph Andrews is modeled on the chaste biblical
286
Joseph, and Lady Booby on a satiric portrait of a
lustful lady. The flaws in this early novel proceed
from Fielding's use of theatrical stereotypes: the
lustful lady of Restoration comedy, the naive country
lad in the city are characters as flat as any from the
commedia dell1 arte. It is no surprise that Joseph
writes to his sister Pamela that Lady Booby "held my
Hand, and talked exactly as Lady does to her
Sweetheart in a Stage-Play" (27). Fielding himself—
or at least, his narrative voice— declares that "I
describe not Men, but Manners; not an Individual, but
a Species" (168). In fact, Joseph Andrews is a sort
of mish-mash of theatre, political satire and parody:
in short, a summary of Fielding's literary career down
to 1742.
Fielding's satiric comments on servants in Joseph
Andrews echo the accusations of their harsher critics:
No sooner was young Andrews arrived
at London. than he began to scrape an
Acquaintance with his party-colour'd
Brethren, who endeavour'd to make him
despise his former Course of Life.
His Hair was cut after the newest
Fashion, and became his chief Care.
He went abroad with it all the Morning
in Papers, and drest it out in the
Afternoon . . . he led the Opinion of
all the other Footmen at an Opera, and
they never condemned or applauded a
single Song contrary to his
Approbation or Dislike. (22-23)
287
Even Defoe in The Great Law of Subordination could
hardly have accused servants so damningly of idleness;
the difference is that Fielding's Joey is not morally
corrupt, as are Defoe's servants. His portrait of
Mrs. Slipslop, ridiculous as it is for her malaprop
displays of learning, recalls, without his bitterness,
the Coachman's complaint about the lady's maid in A
Treatise on the Use and Abuse of The Second. Commonly
called. The Steward's Table (c. 1758):
My dear Lady's Woman. . . . must
now come on the carpet. If the high
veneration which I have for ladies of
all ranks did not confine my pen, how
copious a subject have I now to
expatiate on! But be cautious, let
not resentment get the better of
prudence and good manners! Oh! That
this check I put upon myself may be
sufficient to displace this lump of
deceit and hypocrisy from the
confidence of every one! I will
immediately find one to supply her
place. (62-63)
The Coachman, of course, is writing to complain about
the plots of guilty upper-servants against innocent
lower servants such as himself; and this proves to be
the case for Joseph, for Mrs. Slipslop feeds Lady
Booby's resentment against her chaste footman.
Slipslop is, however, an insult to lady's maids in her
lack of education, if in nothing else; she is far from
exhibiting the education above the norm recommended by
the conduct books.
In the New Comedy conclusion of the novel, in
which Joseph's and Fanny's apparent sibling
relationship is untangled through the peddler's tale
and the proof of identity supplied by Joseph's
birthmark, Joseph is at last revealed to be not the
child of Gammar and Gaffar Andrews and the brother of
Pamela and Fanny, but the son of the gentleman Wilson
— and thus no true servant at all, but a reduced
gentleman.
The servants in Tom Jones show Fielding's
experience in the theatre and his familiarity with the
classics, for both Mrs. Honour and Partridge appear to
be modeled on the comic servant of Roman comedy. Mrs.
Honour, Sophia Western's lady's maid, is presented
with the same satiric distance as Slipslop, but Honour
is satirized in the Horatian, rather than the
Juvenalian, manner. Honour is self-serving, but not
coarse; gossipy, but neither crude nor lustful. "Tho'
Mrs. Honour was principally attached to her own
Interest," writes Fielding, "she was not without some
little Attachment to Sophia" (Vll.vii; 348). When
Sophia resolves to run away from home rather than be
married to the repulsive Blifil, she promises Honour
"'to reward you to the very utmost of my Power *"
(352); the narrator adds, "This last Argument had a
stronger Effect on Honour than all the preceding."
Yet Honour is not perfidious; she resists the
temptation to make her fortune by revealing Sophia's
plans to Squire Western.
Honour's ancestry includes the abigails of
Restoration and eighteenth-century comedy; indeed, in
X.iv she is referred to as "Mrs. Abigail (so for
Shortness we will call her)" (540). Reasoning that
she may best assist Sophia's escape by getting herself
fired, she responds to her mistress's fears that she
may not be able to accomplish the task; "'Oh! Ma'm,'
cries Honour. 'your La'ship may trust that to me; we
Servants very well know how to obtain this Favour of
our Masters and Mistresses . . . '" (352). The
impertinence and sauciness of maids is both a stock
complaint in eighteenth-century pamphlets and a
standard mode of presentation on the stage.
Like Honour, Partridge wishes to seek his
fortune, but he does so not by attempting to dissuade
Tom Jones from a journey, but by insisting on
accompanying him. Freely forgiving his reputed
bastard for his misfortunes, Partridge explains that
290
I am convinced, from this
extraordinary Meeting, that you are
born to make me Amends for all I have
suffered on that Account. Besides, I
dreamt, the Night before I saw you,
that I stumbled over a Stool without
hurting myself; which plainly shewed
me something good was toward me; and
last Night I dreamt again, that I rode
behind you on a Milk white Mare, which
is a very excellent Dream, and
betokens much good Fortune . . . I
desire nothing more than Leave to
attend you in this Expedition.
(VIII.vi; 425)
However, in the next chapter the narrator informs us
that Partridge has attached himself to Jones's
interest because he cannot believe the boy is truly
estranged from Allworthy: "It came into his Head,
therefore, that if he could prevail with the young
Gentleman to return back to his Father, he should by
that Means render a Service to Allworthy, which would
obliterate all his former Anger ..." (427). Like
Honour, like the tricky servants of Plautus and
Terence, Partridge has his eye on the main chance.
After Fielding, servants as particular characters
vanish for several decades from canonical English
literature, becoming the invisible and unnamed
servants of, for example, Jane Austen's fictions. The
Dickensian heroes and Jane Eyre are the next instances
of protagonist-servants; yet Oliver Twist, Nicholas
Nickleby, David Copperfield, John Rokesmith and Miss
Eyre are clearly established in their novels as
gentlefolk by birth, however distressed their
circumstances may be. As in Joseph Andrews, the rug
is pulled out from under their pretences to a true
condition of servitude. For all her fairy-tale
marriage, Pamela remains the most realistic portrait
of a servant; nevertheless, the many other servants in
English literature merit comparison with extra-
literary models of their behavior.
i
292
Notes
1 Michael Shinagel notes, in his edition of
Robinson Crusoe, the "immediate success" of Defoe's
first novel, stating that its popularity "compares
favorably with such instantly popular works as Swift's
Gulliver's Travels. Richardson's Pamela. and
Fielding's Tom Jones" (238).
i
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297
Glass, H[annah]. The Servants Directory. Improved;
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of the Chamber-Maid. Nursery-Maid. House-Maid.
Landrv-Maid. Scullion, or Under-Cook. Are fully
and distinctly Explained. Dublin: 1762.
Grey, Oliver. An Apology for Servants. Occasioned by
the Representation of the Farce called High Life
below Stairs, and bv what has been said to their
Disadvantage in the Public Papers. London: 1760.
[Hanway, Jonas.] Advice from Farmer Trueman, to his
Daughter Marv. Upon her going to Service. In a
Series of Discourses. Designed to Promote the
Welfare and True Interest of Servants. With
Reflections of No Less Importance to Masters and
Mistresses. London: 1792. [Abridged from the
author's Virtue in humble life. 1770?]
[Haywood, Eliza]. Anti-Pamela: or. Feign'd Innocence
detected: In a Series of Syrena's Adventures. A
Narrative which has really its Foundation in
Truth and Nature; and at the same time that it
entertains, bv a vast Variety of surprizing
Incidents, aims against a partial Credulity, by
shewing the Mischiefs that frequently arise from
a too sudden Admiration. Publish'd as a
necessary Caution for all Young Gentlemen.
Second Edition. London: 1742.
. A Present for a Servant-Maid. [London]: 1743;
rpt. Garland Publishers, 1985.
Heasel, Anthony. The Servants Book of Knowledge.
containing Tables of Wages Readv Cast Up . . . .
Together with A Table for Marketing, from One
Penny and Upwards per Pound. . . . The whole made
perfectly easy to every Capacity. To which are
added. Plain and Easy Instructions for Servants
of Both Sexes. To gualifv themselves for Places
in general . . . . London: [1773].
Hoote, Henry. A Bridle for the Tongue: or. Some
practical discourses . . . . [London]: 1709.
[Johnson, Madam.] Madam Johnson's Present: Or. Every
Young Woman's Companion. In Useful and Universal
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298
Kenrick, William. The Whole Duty of Woman. By a
Ladv. Written at the Desire of a Noble Lord.
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[Lucas, Richard.] The Duty of Servants, containing
First, Their Preparation for, and Choice of a
Service. Secondly, Their Duty in Service.
Together with Pravers suited to each Duty. To
this is added A Discourse of the Sacrament suited
peculiarly to Servants. Bv the Author of
Practical Christianity. London: 1685.
Macdonald, John. Travels in Various Parts of Europe.
Asia, and Africa. Purina a Series of Thirty Years
and Upwards. Bv John Macdonald, a Cadet of the
Family of Keppoch in Inverness-Shire; Who. After
the Ruin of his Family in 1745. was thrown when a
Child on the wide World: the Ways of which, with
many curious, useful, and interesting Particulars
he had occasion to observe, and has taken care,
bv Means of a regular Journal, to record, while
he served. in various departments. a great number
of Noblemen and Gentlemen. English. Scotch.
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Richardson, Samuel. The Apprentice's Vade Mecum.
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• Familiar Letters on Important Occasions. Ed.
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Carroll. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1964.
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Monitor for Private Families: Comprising Hints on
the Arrangement and Performance of Servants1 Work
. . . . TAndl Observations On Servants* Behaviour
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in a Letter from a Friend. By the Author of
James Talbot. New York: New York Book Society,
1823.
Seaton, Thomas, M. A., Chaplain to the Right
Honourable Daniel Earl of Nottingham, and Fellow
°f Clare-Hall in Cambridge. The Conduct of
Servants in Great Families. Consisting of
Dissertations upon several Passages of the Holy
Scriptures. relating to the Office of a Servant:
With Ejaculations upon the Subiect-Matter of Each
Discourse. To these are annex*d. A Persuasive to
a Constant Attendance at the Devotions of the
Family, and at the Holy Communion: And an Earnest
Exhortation to refrain from Swearing, Cursing,
and Drunkenness: Each of which Subjects are
distinctly treated in several Chapters. To which
are added, some Directions to Regulate the
Private Devotions of Servants; with Prayers and
Hymns for that Purpose. The Whole is composed
for the Especial Use of Noblemen and Gentlemen1s
Servants. London: 172 0.
Shakespeare, William. The Riverside Shakespeare. Ed.
G. Blakemore Evans, et jil. Boston: Houghton
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Townley, James. High Life Below Stairs. Sixth
edition. [London]: 1760.
Watkins, Henry George, M. A., Rector of the United
Parishes of St. Swithin, London Stone, and St.
Mary Bothaw. Hints and Observations Seriously
Addressed to Heads of Families. In Reference.
Chiefly, to Female Domestic Servants. London:
1816.
Waugh, John, D. D., Rector of St. Peter's Cornhill,
and Chaplain to the Right Honourable Francis,
Lord Guilford. The Duty of Apprentices and other
Servants. A Sermon Preach'd at the Parish Church
of St. Bridget, alias Bride. August 24th. 1713.
Being the Festival of St. Bartholomew; At a
Meeting of about 1400 Persons of both Sexes.
London: 1713.
300
Wilkes, Wetenhall. A Letter of Genteel and Moral
Advice to a Young Ladv: In a new and Familiar
Method? Being a System of Rules and Instructions,
to qualify the Fair Sex to be useful and happy in
every State. London: 1744.
[Woolley, Hannah]. The Comoleat Servant-Maid: or. the
Young Maidens Tutor. Directing them how they mav
fit, and aualifie themselves for any of these
Employments. Viz. Waiting-Woman. House-Keeoer.
Chamber-Maid. Cook-Maid. Under-Cook-Maid.
Nursurv-Maid Tsicl. Dairy Maid. Laundrv-Maid.
House-Maid. Scullery-Maid. Whereunto is added A
Suppliment containing the choicest Receipts and
rarest Secrets in Phvsick and Chvrurgerv? Also
for Salting and Drying English Hams egual to
Westphalia. . . . Seventh Edition with
Additions. London: 1704.
[Zinzano, ]. The Servants Calling? With Some
ADVICE to the APPRENTICE: Designed for such as
have had the BENEFIT of a Good Education. Or
would be assisted under the DISADVANTAGE Of a Bad
one. London: 1725.
301
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