My parents reacted harshly to the mistakes made by the household servants. Among them, the young Polish coachman irritated them most. He was handsome, poor, uneducated, and seemingly unable to adapt to the rigid discipline imposed by the estate.
Most of the servants were illiterate and struggled to understand French, which only increased my father’s frustration. Convinced that fear and obedience were inseparable, the Baron invited a specialist in “discipline” to instruct the household. The man compared servants to animals that needed training through commands, severe punishment, and reward.
Day after day, he demonstrated his methods in the dining room, using the coachman as an example before the family. The young servant was summoned to the room, ordered to undress, kneel, and obediently endure the humiliations and brutal beatings in silence, while the atmosphere in the room became increasingly disturbing. What was presented as discipline seemed to hide something darker beneath the surface: fascination, cruelty, and power mingled in ways I only understood years later.
I felt a mix of excitement and fear, but I believe many in that room felt aroused and pleased at seeing the Polish man's strong body, naked and being whipped.
Looking back, I realize those rituals shaped my understanding of authority, desire, and violence. The carriage house, the stable, the formal rooms of the estate — all became stages for tensions the family refused to name openly.
