In The Handmaid’s Tale, the question “what did Waterford do to the first handmaid” uncovers a chilling layer of abuse and control that defines the dystopian regime of Gilead. The first Handmaid assigned to Commander Fred Waterford—often referred to simply as the “first Handmaid”—met a tragic end, and her story, though mostly hinted at, reveals the brutal mechanisms of power used by the elite to dominate women’s bodies. This article walks through the available evidence from Margaret Atwood’s novel and the television adaptation to piece together what happened, why it matters, and how it reflects the broader themes of oppression in Gilead And that's really what it comes down to..
Who Is Commander Waterford?
Commander Fred Waterford is a high-ranking official in the authoritarian theocracy of Gilead. Because of that, as a Commander, he helps enforce the regime’s strict laws, which are based on a distorted interpretation of the Bible. Think about it: he is married to Serena Joy Waterford, a former advocate for traditional values who now exerts her own influence behind the scenes. Think about it: waterford’s position gives him authority over the Handmaids assigned to his household—women forced into reproductive slavery to bear children for the elite. His character embodies the hypocrisy and cruelty of Gilead’s leadership: he presents himself as a pious guardian of morality while engaging in secret, illicit activities that violate the very doctrines he promotes Not complicated — just consistent..
Counterintuitive, but true.
The Role of the First Handmaid
The first Handmaid in the Waterford household is a shadowy figure. She is not named in the novel; Offred, the protagonist and second Handmaid, only learns fragments of her story through gossip and her own observations. Now, in the television series, she is given a backstory: she was a woman named Ofglen (later revealed to be Ofmatthew in the show’s expanded narrative) who had been caught in an affair with a Guardian and was punished by having her eye removed and being reassigned as a Handmaid. That said, the core of her tragedy remains consistent across both versions: she was broken by the system and ultimately chose suicide as her only escape.
What Did Waterford Do to the First Handmaid?
The exact actions of Commander Waterford toward the first Handmaid are never fully detailed, but several key incidents and implications paint a disturbing picture Not complicated — just consistent. Turns out it matters..
The Ceremony
Like all Handmaids, the first woman was subjected to the Ceremony—a ritualistic rape in which the Handmaid lies between the legs of the Commander’s wife while the Commander penetrates her, ostensibly to impregnate her. This state-sanctioned violation is designed to reduce the Handmaid to a mere vessel. For the first Handmaid, the Ceremony with Waterford likely followed the same pattern, but there may have been additional layers of abuse.
In the novel, Offred notes that the first Handmaid “hung herself” from a light fixture in her room. Now, the discovery of her body is a stark warning to all Handmaids of the hopelessness of their situation. The fact that she chose to end her life in the Commander’s house suggests that her suffering was extreme and that she saw no other way out.
Emotional and Psychological Manipulation
Waterford is known to seek emotional connections with his Handmaids, which is strictly forbidden. In the case of Offred, he invites her to his study for secret games of Scrabble, allows her to read fashion magazines, and eventually takes her to Jezebel’s—a secret brothel for the elite. These actions are clear violations of Gilead’s rules, but they also serve to manipulate and control the Handmaids by offering false hope and moments of “kindness” that make the oppression more bearable.
For the first Handmaid, it is implied that Waterford may have engaged in similar behavior. Offred discovers a Latin phrase, Nolite te bastardes carborundorum, carved into the closet wall—a message left by the first Handmaid. This suggests that the first Handmaid tried to communicate with future Handmaids, perhaps as a warning or a sign of solidarity. Waterford’s reaction when Offred mentions the phrase is telling: he becomes uncomfortable and quickly changes the subject, indicating that he knows its origin and the pain associated with it Small thing, real impact..
Possible Infidelity and Punishment
In the television series, the first Handmaid (named Ofmatthew) had an affair with a Guardian, which was discovered by the Eyes (Gilead’s secret police). Worth adding: as punishment, she was mutilated (her eye removed) and reassigned to the Waterfords. And while this backstory is not present in the novel, it adds a layer of complexity: Waterford may have been aware of her past and used it to further dominate her. In the show, Waterford’s treatment of her is cold and punitive; he sees her as tainted and uses the Ceremony as a means of asserting his authority over her body.
The Aftermath: A Suppressed Truth
Waterford and his wife, Serena Joy, quickly cover up the first Handmaid’s suicide. Offred is later told that the first Handmaid “stole something” from the house and was therefore sent away—a lie that serves to protect the Commander’s reputation. This cover-up demonstrates how the regime protects its own and how the lives of women are disposable.
Psychological Impact on the First Handmaid
The psychological torment inflicted by Waterford and the system is evident in the first Handmaid’s decision to take her own life. The constant degradation
and dehumanization she endured. Her existence under Waterford’s roof was a relentless assault on her identity and autonomy. Here's the thing — the Ceremony, a ritualistic rape sanctioned by the state, was compounded by Waterford’s private violations—his attempts to forge a perverse, secret intimacy that blurred the lines between oppressor and coerced participant. Day to day, this emotional ping-pong, from violent state ritual to whispered Scrabble games, created a psychological labyrinth with no exit. The Latin phrase she carved, Nolite te bastardes carborundorum (“Don’t let the bastards grind you down”), is not a hopeful mantra but a fossilized cry of anguish, a final piece of evidence that her spirit was battered but not entirely extinguished until the very end. It was a message in a bottle, cast into the future not as a guide, but as a tombstone inscription for her own erased self Turns out it matters..
The Mirror for Offred: A Legacy of Trauma
The first Handmaid’s story is not a historical footnote for Offred; it is a terrifying mirror. The suicide becomes a prophecy. For Offred, this legacy is a dual burden: the horror of recognizing her potential future, and the grim solidarity of knowing someone else saw the cage as clearly as she does. Offred’s discovery of the phrase and Waterford’s visceral reaction to it confirm that her predecessor’s suffering is both unique and generic—a standard outcome of the system. It whispers that the only true power left to a Handmaid is the power to end her own narrative, a power the regime tries to confiscate even after death by rewriting her story as a theft. It fuels her own quiet acts of rebellion, from stealing a daffodil to engaging in forbidden conversation with Nick, as she tests the limits of her own cage, aware that the exit the first Handmaid found might be the only one that truly guarantees escape.
This is the bit that actually matters in practice.
Conclusion: The Architecture of Despair
The first Handmaid’s life and death are not merely tragic anecdotes but the foundational architecture of Gilead’s terror. Still, his manipulation—whether through cold punishment or faux kindness—serves the same end: the absolute ownership of a woman’s body and the eradication of her inner world. Still, waterford, for all his intellectual pretensions and moments of conflicted feeling, is a fundamental pillar of that architecture. Her story exposes the regime’s central lie: that its brutal machinery is efficient, clean, and morally justified. Because of that, in reality, it is a pressure cooker of human misery that produces not compliant vessels, but shattered souls and silent screams carved into walls. The cover-up of her suicide is the final, telling act, proving that the state’s power depends on managing appearances and suppressing the inconvenient truth that its victims would rather die than continue.
In the long run, the first Handmaid’s legacy is a testament to the indomitable, desperate human will that even Gilead cannot fully crush. Because of that, her carved words, misinterpreted by Offred at first, transform from a puzzling relic into a sacred text of resistance. It is a reminder that in a world designed to render women invisible and interchangeable, the act of leaving a mark—a name, a message, a memory—is itself an act of profound defiance. Her hopelessness, therefore, becomes a warning flare for every woman who follows, illuminating the abyss and daring them to find another way, even as it acknowledges that for some, the abyss is the only honest answer left.
