Document – Excerpt from Flora Annie Steel and Grace Gardiner, Complete Indian Housekeeper and Cook (1888)

THIS book, it is hoped, will meet the very generally felt want for a practical guide to young housekeepers in India. A large proportion of English ladies in the country come to it newly married, to begin a new life, and take up new responsibilities under absolutely new conditions.

Few, indeed, have had any practical experience of housekeeping of any sort or kind; whilst those who have find themselves almost as much at sea as their more ignorant sisters. How can it be otherwise, when the familiar landmarks are no longer visible, and, amid the crowd of idle, unintelligible servants, there seems not one to carry on the usual routine of household work, which in England follows as a matter of course?

The kitchen is a black hole, the pantry a sink. The only servant who will condescend to tidy up is a skulking savage with a reed broom; whilst pervading all things broods the stifling, enervating atmosphere of custom, against which energy beats itself unavailingly, as against a feather bed.

. . .

It is in the hopes of supplying a little experience at second-hand that this book has been written. In it an attempt has been made to assimilate the duties of each servant to those of his or her English compeer, and thus to show the new-comer where the fault lies, if fault exists. Also, as briefly as possible, to point out bad habits which are sure to be met with, and suggest such remedies as the authors’ experience has proved to be successful. And here it may be remarked, that the very possession of the book may be held to presuppose some desire on the part of the possessor to emulate the wife who does her husband good, and not evil, all the days of her life, by looking well to the ways of her household.

chapter 1

the duties of the mistress

HOUSEKEEPING in India, when once the first strangeness has worn off, is a far easier task in many ways than it is in England, though it none the less requires time, and, in this present transitional period, an almost phenomenal patience; for, while one mistress enforces cleanliness according to European methods, the next may belong to the opposite faction, who, so long as the dinner is nicely served, thinks nothing of it being cooked in a kitchen which is also used as a latrine; the result being that the servants who serve one and then the other stamp of mistress, look on the desire for decency as a mere personal and distinctly disagreeable attribute of their employer, which, like a bad temper or stinginess, may be resented or evaded.

And, first, it must be distinctly understood that it is not necessary, or in the least degree desirable, that an educated woman should waste the best years of her life in scolding and petty supervision. Life holds higher duties, and it is indubitable that friction and over zeal is a sure sign of a bad housekeeper. But there is an appreciable difference between the careworn Martha vexed in many things, and the absolute indifference displayed by many Indian mistresses, who put up with a degree of slovenliness and dirt which would disgrace a den in St. Giles, on the principle that it is no use attempting to teach the natives.

They never go into their kitchens, for the simple reason that their appetite for breakfast might be marred by seeing the khitmutgâr using his toes as an efficient toast-rack (fact); or their desire for dinner weakened by seeing the soup strained through a greasy purgi.

. . .

The first duty of a mistress is, of course, to be able to give intelligible orders to her servants; therefore it is necessary she should learn to speak Hindustani. No sane Englishwoman would dream of living say, for twenty years, in Germany, Italy, or France, without making the attempt, at any rate, to learn the language. She would, in fact, feel that by neglecting to do so she would write herself down an ass. It would be well, therefore, if ladies in India were to ask themselves if a difference in longitude increases the latitude allowing in judging of a woman’s intellect.

The next duty is obviously to insist on her orders being carried out. And here we come to the burning question, “How is this to be done?” Certainly, there is at present very little to which we can appeal in the average Indian servant, but then, until it is implanted by training, there is very little sense of duty in a child; yet in some well-regulated nurseries obedience is a foregone conclusion. The secret lies in making rules, and keeping to them. The Indian servant is a child in everything save age, and should be treated as a child; that is to say, kindly, but with the greatest firmness. The laws of the household should be those of the Medes and Persians, and first faults should never go unpunished. By overlooking a first offence, we lose the only opportunity we have preventing it becoming a habit.

. . .

To show what absolute children Indian servants are, the same author has for years adopted castor oil as an ultimatum in all obstinate cases, on the ground that there must be some physical cause for inability to learn or to remember. This is considered a great joke, and exposes the offender to much ridicule from his fellow-servants; so much so, that the words, “Mem Sahib tum ko zuroor kâster ile pila dena hoga” (The Mem Sahib will have to give you castor oil), is often heard in the mouths of the upper servants when new-comers give trouble.

. . .

These remarks, written ten years ago, are still applicable, though the Indian mistress has now to guard against the possibility of impertinence. It should never be overlooked for an instant.

. . .

A good mistress in India will try to set a good example to her servants in routine, method, and tidiness. Half-an-hour after breakfast should be sufficient for the whole arrangements for the day; but that half-hour should be given as punctually as possible. An untidy mistress invariably has untidy, a weak one, idle servants. It should never be forgotten that—though it is true in both hemispheres that if you want a thing done you should do it yourself—still, having to do it is a distinct confession of failure in your original intention. Anxious housewives are too apt to accept defeat in this way; the result being that the lives of educated women are wasted in doing the work of lazy servants.

The authors’ advice is therefore—

“Never do work which an ordinarily good servant ought to be able to do. IF the one you have will not or cannot do it, get another who can.”

In regard to engaging new servants, written certificates to character are for the most part of no use whatever, except in respect to length of service, and its implied testimony to honesty. A man who has been six or seven years in one place is not likely to be a thief, though the authors regret to say the fact is no safeguard as far as qualifications go. The best plan is to catch your servants young, promoting them to more experienced wages on the buksheesh theory abovementioned. They generally learn fast enough if it is made worth their while in this way. On the other hand, it is, as a rule, a mistake to keep servants too long in India. Officials should be especially careful on this point, as the Oriental mind connects a confidential servant with corruption.

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hints on breakfasts, dinner, luncheons, etc.

BREAKFASTS in India are for the most part horrible meals, being hybrids between the English and the French fashions. Then the ordinary Indian cook has not an idea for breakfast beyond chops, steaks, fried fish, and quail; a menu rendered still less inviting by the poor quality of both fish and meat. Tea made and poured out by a khitmugâr at a side table, toast and butter coming in when the meal is half-finished, and the laying of the table for lunch while the breakfast-eaters are still seated, combine to make new-comers open their eyes at Indian barbarities. Of course, if breakfast is deferred till eleven or twelve o’clock, it is better to lean towards the French dejeuner à la fourchette, since under these circumstances lunch would be a crime; but when, as is often the case, the breakfast hour is English, there is no real reason why English fashions should not be adhered to in every way.

A breakfast table should never be crowded by flowers or fruit, but should depend for its charm on the brightness of china and silver, and on the cleanliness of the cloth. A dumb waiter is a decided convenience, if, as will be invariably the case where the mistress is wise, servants are not allowed to stay in the room at breakfast. It should never be a set meal; and even if the English plan of helping oneself cannot be fully carried out, it is at least not necessary to have a tribe of servants dancing round the table ready to snatch away your plate at the least pause. Breakfast is par excellence a family meal, a special opportunity to show forth mutual helpfulness, an occasion when the hostess can make her guests feel at home by admitting them to the familiar friendliness of the vie intime. If the servants after handing round the first dish wait outside, a touch on the handbell will bring them back when they are wanted.

. . .

When there is a large party at breakfast, it greatly conduces to the familiar comfort of all to have small sugar basins and cream or milk jugs at intervals down the table, and there should be at least two plates of butter and toast. In regard to the former, the khitmugâr should be generally discouraged from making it the medium for a display of his powers in plastic art; it is doubtless gratifying to observe such yearning after beauty, even in butter, but it is suggestive of too much handling to be pleasant.

Most of the recipes given under fish and eggs are suitable for breakfast while a variety of appetizing little dishes can be made by using white China scallop shells, and filling them with various mixtures. . . it should be remembered that any elaborate side-dish as too great an apparent connection with yesterday’s dinner to be agreeable to the fastidious. Indeed, this lingering likeness to the immediately preceding meal is always to be striven against; and the mistress of the house where you have duck for dinner, and duck stew next morning at breakfast, may be set down as a bad manager.

In regard to tea and coffee, it may be possible to get these made satisfactorily by the servants in India; but, except in the largest establishments at home, the mistress usually does it herself.

. . .

Servants in India are particularly careless in serving up cold viands, having a contempt for them, and considering them as, in reality, the sweeper’s perquisites. So it is no unusual thing to see puddings served up again as they left the table, and pies with dusty, half-dried smears of gravy clinging to the sides of the pie-dish. This should never be passed over; but both cook and khitmugâr taught that everything, even down to the salt in the salt-cellars, must be neat, clean, and pleasant to look at, as well as to taste.

Heavy luncheons or tiffins have much to answer for in India. It is a fact scarcely denied, that people at home invariably eat more on Sundays, because they have nothing else to do; so in the hot weather out here people seem to eat simply because it passes the time. It is no unusual thing to see a meal of four or five distinct courses placed on the table, when one light entrée and a dressed vegetable would be ample. Even when guests are invited to tiffin, there is no reason why they should be tempted to over-eat themselves, as they too often are, by the ludicrously heavy style of the ordinary luncheon party in India. If the object of such parties is, as it should be, to have a really pleasant time for sociable conversation between lunch and afternoon tea, stuffing the guests into a semi-torpid state certainly does not conduce to success. Yet if the menu be large and long, it is almost impossible for a luncheon guest to persist in refusal without making himself remarkable. He has not refuge, and, like the wedding guest, must accept his fate, although he knows that the result will be that—

• A sadder and wiser man
• He’ll rise the morrow’s morn.

Afternoon teas are, as it were, outclassed by tennis parties, and as these latter are a form of entertainment suitable to the limited purses of most people, a few hints may be given as to the refreshments required, &c. To begin with tea and coffee. It will be found best to have at least two teapots, and not to put more than three teaspoonfuls of tea in each. Anything more tasteless or injurious than tea which has been “stood strong” and then watered down cannot be imagined. Cream should invariably be given, and for this purpose the milk must not be boiled; even in hot weather milk will stand for twelve hours in a wide-mouthed jar placed in an earthen vessel of water, especially if a little carbonate of soda can be dissolved in the milk, while boracic acid will keep it sweet for days. Lump sugar costs very little more than grain sugar, and looks infinitely nicer. Coffee is best made double or triple strength in the morning, and diluted with boiling water when wanted. If not sufficiently hot, the bottles containing it can be placed in a saucepan of boiling water. This is the most economical plan, as this strong coffee will keep for several days; it is also the most satisfactory, as it enables the mistress to be sure of the quality of her coffee. A recipe for this coffee will be found under the chapter on the “Khitmugâr.” Hot milk and cold-whipped cream should be served with coffee, and brown crystallised sugar, or what is still nicer, pounded sugar candy.

. . .

In regard to eatables, plain bread and butter should invariably be a standing dish. Many people do not care for cakes, and yet find a cup of tea or coffee better for something to eat with it. . . . Cakes and bonbons suitable for tennis parties are legion, and, as a rule the one thing to be observed in selecting them is to avoid stickiness or surprises. It is not pleasant to find the first bite of a firm looking cake result in a dribble of liqueur or cream down your best dress.

. . .

Ices are best served in India in regular ice-glasses, as they do not melt so fast, being less exposed to the air.

. . .

The art of dinner-giving is a difficult subject to approach. Many people openly assert that the native plan of sending dinner on a tray to the person you desire to entertain, would remove the mountains of ennui and trouble for both the host and guest. But there must be something wrong in a hospitality which demands self-devotion on both sides. . . . It must not be forgotten that the dinner is not the end in itself. It is the means of making your guests enter into that contented frame of mind which conduces to good fellowship; and, to an ordinarily sympathetic guest, the sight of an anxious host or hostess is fatal to personal placidity. “If they serve you up a barbecued puppy dog, keep a cool countenance and help the company round,” says the young husband in “Heartsease” to his tearful wife. Never was better advice given, if we supplement it with the words, “and have it out with the cook afterwards.”

. . .

As it is, one is often treated to a badly-cooked dinner in the style of a third-class French restaurant, even to the hors d’œuvres. In regard to the latter, it is doubtful if they should ever be considered a legitimate part of the menu at private houses, though exceptions may be made occasionally in favour of fresh oysters. The real raison d’etre of the hors d’œuvres is not to stimulate the appetite. To do this it must be taken ten minutes before dinner, like bitters. It was at first nothing more or less than a restaurant dodge to while away the time (and increase the bill) whilst the dinner that had been ordered was being prepared. It therefore ceases to have any meaning in a private house, where, it is to be presumed, the guests will not have to wait for their dinners. On the other hand, it may be laid down as an axiom that no dinner, even a purely family one, is complete without a dressed vegetable of some sort of kind.

. . .

Cold sweets before the hot is a barbarism only to be equaled by serving a cheese fondu before jelly as a pudding.

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duties of the bearer

The implements required by the bearer are—

• 6 Soft dusters.

• 1 Feather broom.

• 1 Bottle home-made furniture polish.

• 1 Clothes brush.

• 1 Corkscrew.

• 1 Pair scissors.

• 1 Chimney brush.

• 1 Tin Putz pomade.

• 2 Funnels.

• 1 Bottle brush.

• 1 Ice breaker.

• 1 Salver for cards.

• 1 Bottle benzine.

• Hammer, tacks glue, string, &c.

The bearer should be the head servant, and the greatest care should be exercised in engaging one who is honest and respectable. Being his master’s valet, the other servants give weight to his opinions, and follow his lead, knowing that he has opportunities for private communication with the authorities. Ear-wigging, it must be remembered, is supposed by the Oriental to be all-powerful. The discipline and respectability of the servants’ quarters depend to a great extent on the character of the bearer, who should be held responsible.

The bearer must be an early riser. He has charge of every single thing in the house, save those in the dining-room and pantry, and any loss or breakage has to be accounted for by him; therefore it is to his own advantage, one of his greatest alleviations of Indian discomfort lies in his hands; that is, keeping the house free of mosquitoes. To do this he must in the hot weather shut every window before dawn. They may be opened afterwards, but if they are not shut between four o’clock and six o’clock mosquitoes will come in.

. . .

When the sweeper has swept the outer verandahs, the upper and lower windows should be thrown open, but not till then, or the dust will come in.

One day a week the drawing-room should receive a thorough cleaning, summer and winter; and after a dust-storm a complete turning out is also necessary; but on other days the sweeper should, with a soft brush and dustpan, sweep over the whole room, shaking mats, &c., outside, as they are apt to harbour vermin. The bearer meanwhile should remove the flower-vases and place them on a table in the verandah, fold up newspapers and put them in a certain fixed receptacle, replace books in the bookshelf, restore chairs to their proper place, and sort everything up as far as possible. It is a good plan to have a separate basket for all papers, envelopes, &c., found on the floor anywhere about the house, as it is then a sure find for lost letters or memoranda. Punkahs and thermantidotes often blow scraps of paper off tables.

When this is done the whole room should be carefully dusted.

The weekly turn-out should include a polish to all articles of furniture, a smart beating of the backs of the carpets, and a cleaning of the windows. Dirty windows are the sign of a bad bearer.

. . .

After breakfast the bearer should be in attendance on his mistress at the godown, and report openly to her anything which has occurred in the compound during the last twenty-four hours which she to know. He need fear no enmity from other servants if he does this fearlessly, openly, and honestly.

. . .

The bearer should be ready to receive callers from twelve o’clock till two. Unless his mistress has told him to say “durwâza bund” (the Indian equivalent for not at home), he should at once usher the visitors into the drawing room and present their cards to his mistress, wherever she may be. He must never do this with his fingers, and a small tray for receiving the cards should always lie on the verandah or hall table.

. . .

In the evening, when the bearer lights the lamps, he should also see that each bedroom has its candle and box of matches; at the same time, he should satisfy himself that sweeper, bheesti, and other servants have done their work. On bringing the lamps into the drawing-room he should tidy it up, remove bits of thread, torn papers, &c., from the floor, draw the curtains, and if there is a fire, see that the wood-box is full. If the bearer is also âbdâr, i.e., serves the wine at the table, it is his duty to inform the khitmutgâr what wine-glasses will be required, and satisfy himself that they are duly placed on the table. If the âbdâr has to serve a large number of people, especially in the hot weather, when guests are naturally in a hurry for something cool to drink, it requires method and preparation to be successful. The ice should be broken into pieces before dinner is announced, and wrapped in a napkin. The best way of breaking up ice is to use a short sharp steel skewer; a large darning-needle fixed in a handle answers well. No hammer is required, as the lightest pressure with the sharp point will split the ice. The soda-water should be ready to hand, champagne wire removed, claret uncorked, and the wines for dessert decanted in scrupulously clean decanters. The âbdâr should not dodge round the table in serving guests, but go round methodically, beginning with the lady at the host’s right hand.

The bearer should always be on guard against the ravages of white ants, fish insects, and other vermin; and in the rainy season he must not forget the periodical airing of all woollen clothes, blankets, rugs, &c.

Another important work of the bearer is making the beds, excepting of course, those in the ayah’s charge. It may generally be asserted that no native servant has the faintest idea how to make a bed, and therefore those mistresses who desire to make their guests comfortable will do well to give at least one practical lesson on this subject, insisting on the mattress being turned, the sheets evenly spread and separately tucked in, and the pillows well shaken up. An Indian bed too often consists of a hard felted surface with more than a suspicion of crumbs, and covered by frantically crooked sheets and blankets, which the slightest movement reduces to chaos, while sudden turn lets them loose in disastrous avalanche on the floor.

recipes for the bearer

. . .

2. Ants, to keep them from Tables, &c.—Tie a rag dipped in castor oil round the legs of the table or cupboard.

. . .

4. Brass Work, to clean.—Cut a lime in half, rub over the brass, wash the article thoroughly in soap and water, dry and polish. One teaspoon of sulphuric acid mixed in a quarter of a pint of water, and used instead of the lime, is still better. Sapolio and Brookes’ soap also do well, but Putz pomade is the best.

. . .

9. Carpets, to remove Ink Stains.—Wash, if possible, while still wet, with fresh, hot boiled milk. Sponge again and again with hot water. Time and patience must be plentifully used. A weak solution of oxalic acid may be tried if the stain is very dark, but the risk of injuring the colour is very great. It is, however, possible to re-dye the injured portion, with a result certainly preferable to a black spot.

10. Chairs, to prevent the Leather from Cracking.—Rub with white of an egg beaten thin with water.

. . .

14. Glue, Strong.—Digest by gentle heat in a corked bottle 3 oz. rectified spirits of wine with 4 oz. of fine pale shellac. The Chinese use nothing else for all their wood-work. Excellent for pianos.

15. Furniture, Polish.—Mix in a bottle equal parts of linseed oil, turpentine, vinegar, and spirits of wine; or half a teacup shredded beeswax dissolved in a 1 teacup turpentine.

simple hints on the preservation of health, and simple remedies

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simple hints on the preservation of health, and simple remedies

MUCH fuss is, as a rule, made about the unhealthiness of India, but, as a matter of fact, if due attention is paid to the novel conditions of life, and the same precautions which are, as a matter of course taken against the damps and chills of England be taken against the sun of India, there is no reason at all why the health should suffer. It is not only heat which the sun brings with it. That heat in its turn, combined with the intermittent and copious rain, is favourable to the development of malaria and countless bacilli of all sorts. Thus, necessarily, the risks to be run from the malarial type of disease is greater than in England. At the same time, the better class of Europeans should have immunity from a thousand dangers which have to be run at home from infection, cold, bad ventilation, and if unscientific drainage be not perfect, it is simply a death-trap.

. . .

In regard to the sun, it must not be forgotten that it is a friend as well as an enemy. Half the cases of neuræsthenia and anæmia among English ladies, and their general inability to stand the hot weather, arises from the fact that they live virtually in the dark. They feel “too languid” to go out early. “It doesn’t suit them to go out before breakfast,” &c. &c. Then it is too hot to leave the cool house before sunsetting. So, as the house, for the sake of what is called comfort, is kept shut up and in semi-darkness all day, it often happens that the sun is never seen or felt. The writer believes that the forced inertia caused by living without light is responsible for many moral and physical evils among European ladies in the Tropics. In the chapter “In the Plains” more is said on the subject of making the sun your friend.

Let us now think of him as an enemy, in reference, first, to clothing. On this point, also, details will be found in another chapter, that on Outfits. Flannel next to the skin day and night is, of course, the shibboleth of doctors, and doubtless they are right. The writer, however, never wore it day or night, and she never once went to the hills unless on leave with her husband, which means that two hot weathers out of every three were spent entirely in the plains. She wore silk, discarded stays, &c., and, as a rule, had her dresses of nuns-veiling or think serge. And during the hot weather she used a thin white Rampore chuddar or shawl instead of a sheet. The aim and object is, however, to avoid chills and heats. To effect this, sound good sense and the energy which does not mind a little trouble are all that is necessary; unless, indeed, the claims of fashion are allowed to overbear those of comfort and health.

Food and drink should be, as in other parts of the world, simple and digestible. . . . Ice should not be taken on trust and put into drinks unless it is known to be made in a machine from pure water. . . . The writer’s sole advice on this subject is to use common-sense. If you wake with a chippy mouth, and feel as if the whole world was hollow, and your doll stuffed with sawdust, you may be sure your liver is out of order; in which case don’t blame Providence and fly to a podophyllin pill, but think over yesterday, from morn till eve, and find out whether it was that greasy side-dish at dinner, or the delay in changing to a warmer dress when you began to feel chilly, which is responsible.

. . .

Where the great heat of the sun has to be braved, a large pith hat should be worn, a real mushroom, that will protect the nape of the neck. A cork protector, made by quilting shredded cork down the middle of a sleeveless jacket, should be worn over the spine. An umbrella covered with white and dipped occasionally in water will make a hot, dangerous walk less dangerous.

. . .

The following is a list of the more common ailments and their treatment:—

Asthma.—No cure; but strong black coffee will sometimes cut short an attack. The fumes of blotting-paper which has been steeped in very strong solution of saltpeter and dried, gives relief. So, used with caution, will twenty grains of dried datura leaf smoked with the ordinary tobacco.

Bites of Wasps, Scorpions, &c.—A paste of ipecacuanha and water applied at once over the bite generally acts a charm. Stimulants if severe symptoms follow.

Of Mad, or even Doubtful Dogs.—Cut with a lancet or pen-knife down to the very bottom of the wound, and again across, so as to let it gape and bleed. Then cauterise remourselessly with nitrate of silver, or carbolic acid, or an actual hot iron. The object is to destroy the bitten tissue, so that you get to the bottom.

Of a Snake.—If in a toe, finger, or end of a limb, apply a ligature with the first thing handy. Whipcord is best, but take the first ligature that comes to hand. Twist with a stick, or any lever, as tight as you can. Apply two or more nearer the heart, at intervals of a few inches. Meanwhile, if you have help, get some one else to cut out the flesh round the fang-marks, and let it bleed freely. If the snake is known to be deadly, amputate the finger or toe at the next joint; or if you cannot do this, run the knife right round the bone, dividing the flesh completely. Let the bitten person suck the wound till you can burn it with anything at hand—carbolic, nitric acid, nitrate of silver, or actual hot iron. Give one ounce of brandy in a little water. The great object is to prevent the poison getting through the blood to the heart, so every additional pulse-beat before the ligatures are on is a danger. If symptoms of poisoning set in, give more stimulants; put mustard plasters over the heart; rub the limbs; treat, in fact, as for drowning, even to artificial respiration.

. . .

Earache.—Equal parts of opium and any sweet oil. Rub up together, soak a bit of cotton-wool in it, and insert not too far down the ears.

. . .

Hiccough.—Hold the right ear with the left forefinger and thumb, bringing the elbow as far across the chest as possible. An unreasonable but absolutely effective cure.

Hysteria.—Whisky and water with a little chlorodyne and a little wholesome neglect. This applies to hysterics at the time; but a nervous hysterical state generally points to functional disorders, needing active treatment.