The Diary of a Chambermaid

by Octave Mirbeau

  Throughout that exhausting day, what with all the coming and going, I scarcely had time to consider the consequences of this drama, which, for the first time, had brought some life and animation to this dreary Priory. Madame never let up for a moment. She kept us continually on the run … quite pointlessly, as it turned out, for she herself had lost her head … As to Marianne, she seemed not to notice that anything out of the ordinary was going on. Like poor Eugenie, she was intent on her own thoughts, and they were far away from what preoccupied the rest of us. But, whenever the master appeared in the kitchen, she immediately began to behave as though she were drunk, staring at him ecstatically …

  It was not until the evening, after we had eaten our dinner in silence, that I was able to think about things. It had struck me straight away, and I was now more convinced than ever, that Joseph was in some way involved in the robbery. I like to think that some clear connection might emerge between his visit to Cherbourg and the preparation of this bold and incomparably well-executed plan. And I recalled the answer he had given me the night before he set out:

  ‘It all depends on some very important business …’

  Although he did his best to behave naturally, his gestures, his silence, his whole attitude, betrayed an uneasiness, imperceptible to anybody but myself. This presentiment was so satisfying that I made no attempt to reject it. On the contrary, I indulged it to the full … When for a moment Marianne happened to leave us alone together in the kitchen, I went up to him and, stirred by an inexplicable emotion, asked him, in a tender, coaxing voice:

  ‘Tell me, Joseph, it was you who raped little Clara, wasn’t it? And now you’ve stolen the silver … Yes?’

  Surprised and dismayed by this question, Joseph looked at me … Then, suddenly, without replying, he drew me towards him and planted a kiss on the back of my neck like a blow from a club.

  ‘We won’t talk of such things,’ he said, ‘in the first place because you’re going to come away with me, and, in the second, because you and I are the same kind of people!’

  I could not help thinking of a Hindu idol, terrifyingly beautiful, that used to stand in the small drawing-room at Countess Fardin’s … At that moment, Joseph looked exactly like it.

  The days went by, and gradually turned into months … Naturally, the examining magistrates failed to discover anything, and finally abandoned their enquiries. In their opinion, the robbery was the work of burglars from Paris .. . Paris has a broad back!

  This negative result infuriated Madame, and she roundly abused the magistrates for their failure to restore her silver. But she did not give up hope of getting back ‘Louis XVI’s cruet’, as Joseph called it. Every day she had some new, cockeyed proposal, which she conveyed to the magistrates. But they soon became so fed up with her nonsense that they didn’t even trouble to reply … And in the end I felt convinced that Joseph was safe, for I had always been terrified lest some catastrophe might befall him.

  Meanwhile, Joseph had once again become the silent, devoted, family servant … ‘A perfect treasure’.

  I could not help smiling at the thought of the conversation I had overheard on the day of the robbery, between Madame and the examining magistrate, a dried-up little chap with thin lips and a bilious complexion, and a profile like the edge of a scimitar.

  ‘You don’t suspect any of the servants?’ asked the magistrate. ‘Your coachman, for example?’

  ‘Joseph?’ Madame had exclaimed in a shocked voice. ‘Why he’s been with us more than fifteen years, and is utterly devoted to us! He is honesty itself, a perfect treasure! He would go through fire and water for us …’ Then, frowning a little, she had thoughtfully considered the question, and added:

  ‘Of course, there’s the girl … my chambermaid. I really know very little about her. For all I know, she may well have criminal connections in Paris. She often writes there … And I’ve several times caught her drinking the table wine and stealing fruit … A girl who would do that, is capable of anything … One should never get servants from Paris . .. She’s certainly a peculiar girl.’

  Can’t you just see the old cat?

  It’s always the same with these suspicious types … they distrust everybody except the one that is actually robbing them … For I was more and more convinced that Joseph had been the ringleader in this business. For a long time I had been watching him, not in any unfriendly way, you understand, but out of curiosity, and I was quite certain that this faithful and devoted servant, this ‘absolute treasure’, was pilfering everything he could lay hands on. He stole hay, coal, eggs … all the little things, that it would be impossible to trace when they were resold. And his friend, the verger, certainly didn’t come to the saddle-room every evening for nothing-nor just to discuss anti-semitism. A man as shrewd, patient, prudent and methodical as Joseph was certainly aware that small daily thefts add up to a considerable annual sum. And, indeed, I’m quite sure that in this way he must have trebled or quadrupled his wages … which is not to be sneezed at. Of course, I realise that small-scale pilfering like this is a very different matter from an audacious robbery like the one on Christmas Eve, but that only goes to prove that he was also capable of working on a grand scale … Nobody’s going to tell me that Joseph didn’t belong to some gang or other. Oh, how I should have liked, and, indeed, would still like, to know for certain!

  Ever since that evening when the savagery of his kiss was almost an admission of guilt, Joseph had repeatedly denied it. However much I twisted and turned, tried to trap him, coaxed him, caressed him, he never gave himself away again … And he continually played up to all Madame’s crazy hopes, reconstituting the details of the crime, entering into all her plans, thrashing the dogs for not having barked, and even shaking his fist at the chimerical robbers, as though he could actually see them just disappearing over the horizon. I no longer knew where I was with this impenetrable man … One day I believed him to be guilty, and the next I was sure he was innocent. It was all terribly exasperating.

  In the evenings we used to meet as usual in the saddle-room.

  ‘Well, Joseph?’

  ‘Ah, so there you are, Célestine!’

  ‘Why do you never talk to me these days? You seem to be running away from me …’

  ‘Running away from you? Whyever should I do that, for God’s sake?’

  ‘Yes, ever since that famous day …’

  ‘Say no more about it, Célestine … You’ve got some wicked ideas in your head,’ he would say, sadly shaking his head.

  ‘Oh come on, Joseph, you know very well I was only joking … How could I still love you if you’d committed such a crime, my little Joseph …’

  ‘Always trying to wheedle me … You shouldn’t do it.’

  ‘Well, when are we going to leave? I simply can’t stick this much longer.’

  ‘Not just yet … We must wait a bit.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because it wouldn’t do … not straight away.’

  Somewhat piqued, I said irritably:

  ‘That’s not very nice! … You don’t seem to be very anxious to have me.’

  ‘What?’ cried Joseph, his eyes lighting up. ‘If only it were possible, my God! I’m crazy about you, crazy!’

  ‘Well then, let’s leave …’

  But he wouldn’t budge, and he refused to explain himself further.

  Naturally I thought:

  ‘So I was right, after all … If he really did steal the silver, he just couldn’t leave straight away and set up in business. It might arouse people’s suspicions. He’s got to wait until the whole mysterious affair has been forgotten.’

  Another evening I suggested:

  ‘Listen, my love, I’ve thought of a way we could arrange it … If we were to have a row with Madame, we could force her to give us both the sack ...’

  But he protested strongly:

  ‘No, no, that wouldn’t do, Célestine … I like the Lanlaires … They’ve been good masters to me, and we’ve got
to treat them properly. When we leave here, everything’s got to be on the level. We want them to be sorry we’re going … really upset about it.’

  And, with a grave air of sadness that betrayed not the slightest hint of irony, he insisted:

  ‘Don’t you realize? It’s going to be a big blow for me to leave here … After fifteen years in a place, you can’t help getting attached to it … What about you? Don’t you mind at all?’

  ‘Not in the slightest,’ I laughed.

  ‘Well that’s not right … not right at all … After all, bosses are bosses and you ought to treat them right … You mark my words, and just behave properly, treat them decently, work well … No, don’t answer me back … After all, Célestine, we owe them something … especially Madame.’

  I accepted Joseph’s advice and, during the month that we still had to remain at The Priory, I determined to become a model chambermaid … I, too, would be an ‘absolute treasure’. I did everything I possibly could to keep on good terms with Madame, and gradually she became more human, almost like a friend to me. But I don’t think it was only the pains I took that brought about the change in her character. Her pride had been wounded and she had lost all reason for living. Like someone overwhelmed with grief, shattered by the loss of a uniquely beloved being, she had given up the struggle, and become a gentle, plaintive creature, demanding from those around her little more than consolation, pity, trust. The hell of The Priory was transformed for everybody into a real paradise …

  One morning, in the middle of this peaceful family life, this domestic bliss, I informed Madame that I must give notice. I invented a romance … I was going home to get married, to a decent fellow who had waited for me a long time. In the most affecting terms, I spoke of my concern and regret, of all her kindness to me, and so on. Madame was quite overcome … did her best to persuade me to stay, out of affection as well as from self-interest … offered to raise my wages, to give me a fine bedroom on the second floor. But, realizing that I’d made up my mind, she eventually resigned herself.

  ‘I’ve got so used to you now,’ she sighed. ‘Oh, I never seem to have any luck …’

  But it was much worse, when, a week later, it came to Joseph’s turn, and he had to explain that he was getting too old and tired, that he couldn’t go on working for them any longer and needed a rest.

  ‘What Joseph,’ said Madame, ‘you as well? But this is too much … There must be a curse on The Priory. Everyone’s forsaking me, everyone.’

  Madame wept, Joseph wept, Monsieur Lanlaire wept, Marianne wept …

  ‘We’re all going to miss you terribly, Joseph. Our regrets will go with you.’

  But, alas, it was not only their regrets that were going with him. It was also their silver!

  Once I was away from the place, I felt bewildered. I had no scruples about enjoying Joseph’s money and the stolen silver … No, it was not that. After all, where is the silver that has not been stolen? … But I was afraid lest the feeling I had for him should turn out to be only a fleeting curiosity. The ascendancy that Joseph had won over me, over my mind as well as my body, perhaps might not last … Perhaps it would turn out to be no more than a momentary perversion of my senses? There were even times when I wondered whether it was not just my imagination, always so prone to fantastic dreams, that had created the Joseph that I saw, whether he was not merely a simple brute, a peasant, quite incapable of real violence, of splendid crime … I was scared of what my decision might lead to … Besides, and this is something I simply cannot explain—I could not help regretting that I should no longer be working for other people … In the past, I had always believed that I should be delighted to be free. Yet now it had come to the point, I found that I was not … Being a servant must be something in the blood … What if I were suddenly going to miss all the bourgeois luxury I had become accustomed to? I imagined my own little home, severe and cold like any worker’s, the dull life I should lead, deprived of all those pretty things, all the lovely materials I so enjoyed handling, all the charming depravity it had delighted me to minister to … But there was no going back.

  Oh, whoever would have imagined, on that grey, rainy day when I first arrived at The Priory, that I should end up with this strange, silent, morose man, who regarded me with such disdain?

  Now that we have actually taken over the little café, Joseph has become much younger. He is no longer bowed and clumsy. He walks from table to table, moves swiftly from one room to another, with an elastic step and upright carriage. His shoulders, which used to frighten me, have become kindly; the back of his neck, which I once found so terrible, now has something soothing and fatherly about it. Always well-shaven, his brown skin, shining like mahogany, dressed in a smart beret and a scrupulously clean blue blouse, he looks for all the world like a retired sailor, an old sea dog, who has seen the most extraordinary sights and visited the most exotic countries. What I most admire in him is his moral tranquility. There is no longer the least trace of anxiety in his eyes. One can see that his life rests upon solid foundations. More strongly than ever, he stands for the family, property and religion, supports the Fatherland, trusts in the army and navy … I find him marvellous.

  When we got married, Joseph settled ten thousand francs on me … The other day, when the marine assessor knocked down a wreck to him for fifteen thousand francs, he paid on the spot, and he has already sold it again at a considerable profit. He also has a small banking business, that is to say, he lends money to the fishermen; and now he is thinking of expanding, by buying the house next door. We shall turn it into a cabaret.

  It intrigues me to find that he has so much money, though what his fortune actually amounts to I really don’t know. He doesn’t like me to talk about it, any more than he likes me talking about the days when we used to be in service ... You would imagine that he had completely forgotten the past, and that his life only really began the day when he took over the café. When I question him about what torments me he seems not to understand what I’m saying, and a terrible light comes into his eyes like it used to … I shall never know anything about Joseph, never understand the secret of his life. And perhaps it is this unknown quality that binds me to him.

  Joseph supervises everything and nothing ever goes wrong. We have three waiters to look after the customers, and a maid who does the cooking and housework, and it all runs like clockwork … True, she’s the fourth we’ve had in three months, but they’re so tiresome, these Cherbourg girls, and such shocking thieves! … It’s incredible, really disgusting!

  As for me, I am in charge of the till, and sit enthroned behind the bar, amid a forest of glittering bottles. I am there to be looked at, and to chat with the customers. Joseph likes me to be dressed up to the nines; he never refuses me anything that might improve my appearance and, in the evening, he likes me to show off my bosom by wearing a saucily décolleté dress … My job is to arouse the customer’s interest, to keep them happy by displaying my physical charms. Already there are two or three quartermasters, two or three engineer warrant officers, all well breeched, who court me assiduously. Naturally, in order to please me, they spend freely. Joseph makes a great fuss of them because they’re all heavy drinkers. We also have three paying guests. They eat with us, but of course the wine and liqueurs they drink in the evening are extras, so that everybody does well out of it. They treat me with the greatest gallantry, and I do my best to keep them on tenterhooks. But I don’t think Joseph would like it if I went any further than encouraging their lovesick glances, suggestive smiles and meaningless promises … Anyway I wouldn’t dream of it. In any case, Joseph suits me fine, and I wouldn’t exchange him for anybody in the world, even an admiral of the fleet … He’s a real man, all right! There aren’t many young fellows that could satisfy a woman like he can … The funny thing is, though he’s really quite ugly, for me there’s no one as handsome as he is … He really does something to me, and that’s the truth! … And when it comes to making love, the old monster, ther
e’s nothing he doesn’t know, and he’s very inventive … When you think that he’s spent his whole life in the country, that he’s really only a peasant, you can’t help wondering where he learnt it all.

  But Joseph’s greatest triumph is in politics. Thanks to him the café—with its golden sign, ‘To the French Army’, all lit up at night—is now an official meeting place for all the best-known anti-semites and rowdiest patriots in the town. The latter have the most tremendous booze-ups, fraternising with all the N.C.O’s and warrant officers. There have been one or two pretty serious rough-houses already, and, on several occasions, the N.C.O’s have drawn their swords and started threatening to do in the traitors … The evening Dreyfus arrived back in France I thought the whole place was about to go up in smoke … everybody shouting ‘Long live the Army’, ‘Death to the Jews’ … Joseph was already very popular, but that evening they all went crazy about him. He stood on a table, yelling out at the top of his voice:

  ‘If the traitor’s guilty, send him back again … If he’s innocent, shoot him!’

  And everyone joined in: ‘That’s right, shoot him! Long live the army!’

  There was tremendous excitement, with everyone shouting, banging their fists on the tables and rattling their swords. When someone tried to protest, there was an outburst of booing, and Joseph hurled himself on the poor chap, hitting him a terrible blow that split his lip and knocked out five of his teeth … Then the rest of them started beating him with the flat of their swords and tearing his clothes to shreds, till in the end, covered with blood and half dead, the poor fellow was chucked out into the street, with everyone yelling ‘Long live the army’, ‘Death to the Jews’.

  Sometimes the atmosphere gets so murderous that I feel scared amongst all these animal faces, distorted with drink. But Joseph reassures me:

  ‘You don’t have to worry,’ he says, ‘It’s good for business.’

  Yesterday, when he got back from the market, he announced gaily: