Each one appeared no more than ten or eleven years old. Their faces were as scrubbed as the cement below them was grimy, washed as if their mothers had bathed them only moments before and specifically for the occasion. They wore crisp red tunics with gold buttons and black woolen knickers leading to matching hose. On their red caps were shining brass buckles emblazoned with the name of Etta's new employer. They looked, she thought, like curious little bellhops about to page an important personage in a grand hotel lobby. As they paraded along the platform, each carried above his head a stiff cardboard sign affixed to a slim wooden stake, and every placard bore in dark blue ink a single neatly lettered word: HARVEY.
“All ladies please to come with me!” they cried, in the cracked tones common to boys their age. “All ladies please to come with me! Gather around me, please!”
From all parts of the train, Etta could see young women step quickly toward the boys and their signs. Some were clearly older than she, others younger; some strode confidently across the platform, others walked slowly, heads down and shoulders hunched, their eyes filled with fear. Two brunettes, possibly cousins, linked arms with each other for support. Others read the cardboard plaques for those girls who could not. All were dressed in their best.
The girls appeared to hail from many walks of life. Etta reckoned some to be shopkeepers' daughters or perhaps former millworkers. Even more appeared fresh from the farm. None, however, seemed as rich as Lorinda had once been. She began to feel conspicuous in her fine traveling clothes, tailored to her measure and purchased by an aunt who had lived in Paris for thirty years. But no matter how rich or poor in dress, Etta knew in an instant that she was one with these women. They were sisters in loneliness and confusion—and all far from home.
“All ladies please to follow me! Please be so kind as to follow me quickly into the station!”
Once all the girls had formed knots around each boy there began a parade of sorts. Etta looked down the long stained slab and saw the lad at the farthest end of the train lead his ladies up the platform to meet the next group. Then the two boys bade the women follow them to the next gathering and so on up the line. By the time they had reached the last boy they were easily forty strong, coughing in the shadow of the belching locomotive. Etta peered over the head of the lead boy into the large waiting room of the old station. Looking back, she saw only a sea of hats and, below each, a youthful face nakedly betraying its emotions of the moment.
There was a plumpish redhead, her cheeks a sea of freckles, eyes red with crying; a dark girl, tall and slender, her face impassive, her eyes as black as the hide of Bellerophon; two squat strong-boned blondes arm in arm, smiling and laughing and chattering in some Slavic tongue. Amid so much anxiety and so many tears, Etta wondered just what kind of life these two were leaving to be now so suffused with happiness.
On orders from the pages, the women crossed the arched threshold into the waiting room, boots clattering like the hooves of cattle on the hard granite. The old station echoed with the calls of conductors and the laughter of black porters. To the left of the giant archway, hawkers stood at their stalls, selling fresh fruit and sausages cooked in beer and sauerkraut.
At the end of the grand hall, directly beneath a bas-relief depicting one of the major battles in the Civil War, stood a florid and handsome woman perched atop a wooden apple box. Beneath her hat, her hair was a sleek chestnut, pulled tight and only beginning to gray at the temples. She was dressed simply but in perfect taste. Her ochre satin suit was subtly accented by velvet and lace, its short waistcoat piped in white. The high cream collar of her blouse was partially hidden by a large pink ascot tied at the knot with a silver brooch emblazoned with the letter H. From her fine brown and white boots to her nearly luminous Directoire hat with its upstanding green leaves, everything about her cried that this was a modern woman, a woman of business, a woman to be respected. Above her left breast she wore a card framed in silver that read simply Mrs. Loretta Kelley.
Mrs. Kelley made no move to call the group to attention or remonstrate for silence. She simply stood still and waited for the women to quiet, looking down from her box in silence. Though she could not have explained it, Etta became aware of a feeling of warmth and security as those red cheekbones broke into a dazzling grin. And all around her, as if by instinct, the gathered girls smiled too, even those who only seconds before had seemed nearly overcome with fear of the unknown.
“Welcome, ladies,” Mrs. Kelley began. Her voice was like spun sugar flavored with Irish whiskey.
“I am Mrs. Loretta Kelley, the Fred Harvey Company personnel director for this region, and I wish to welcome each and every one of you to the city of Chicago. I know that for many of you the journey has been long and exhausting, so for now I will dispense with unneeded information and pleasantries. All of you know why you are here and, quite frankly, none of you would have been accepted for your positions had you not been of the finest character and reputation.
“You will work and work hard, girls. But you will be treated with the respect due a professional, housed in clean and pleasant surroundings, and fed sanitary and—and as you may know, we pride ourselves upon this—delectable meals. I know that some of you have spent these past many hours in tears because you long for those families you have been brave enough to leave behind. I know this because I once was one of you: a little girl from Lowell, Massachussetts, who had never been even so far as Boston taking what seemed like an endless train ride. For the next few days, I hope you will think of me as a mother. I know I cannot replace the fine women whom you have left behind, but, should it become necessary in this trying time, I pray you will confide in me. For those girls who are orphans and used to relying upon themselves, this confidence is even more important.
“But plenty of time for talk during entrance interviews tomorrow. Please note that it is now ten o'clock. I ask that you all follow me and our little pages to the Hotel Rochambeau across the street. There you will be assigned your rooms and roommates, and a light luncheon will be sent to your quarters. Following the meal, you will meet me and the boys in the Rochambeau lobby promptly at twelve thirty. Please bring with you a separate suit of clothing appropriate for the city, as well as all”—and here she whispered—“unmentionables.”
The women tittered at the naughty word.
“At that hour,” Mrs. Kelley continued, “you will enjoy what we hope will be a special treat. As we of Harvey like to say, a clean girl is a happy girl. And now, please follow me. An adventure is always better enjoyed among friends. Let us begin this one together and leave all fear and tears behind.”
From the
JOURNAL OF LORINDA REESE JAMESON
11 May 1898
Hotel Rochambeau, Chicago
Diary,
I can hardly contain my delight! As I record these words, I luxuriate in a clean bed with real linens. My fondest wish for a sweet warm bath has been met beyond my expectations, and for this I bless the name of Mrs. Loretta Kelley
To think that up until today I believed that the Turkish bath was something used only by old men: immigrants and those otherwise unfortunate enough to make do without proper plumbing. But this place was magical, all white and pink granite with gleaming porcelain tile. The shy girls among us looked nervously about the great entrance hall with its scalloped Moorish design and giant columns and capitals. As we made our entrance, Mrs. Kelley informed us that there was no cause for undue modesty since the Fred Harvey Company had secured the entire Luxor Baths for our healthful enjoyment, so that for this afternoon it was ours alone. At first, I was afraid that the two Slavic towheads I encountered at the station were about to be overcome with fright or anxiety until I realized they were clutching each other, and jumping up and down, not with fear but with unrestrained joy.
“Bania!” they cried excitedly, waving and attempting to attract the attention of a few other girls within the group, seemingly familiar to them. “Bania!” they cried again and, gesturing to all, bade
us follow them through an ornate atrium and into the belly of the giant bathhouse.
Over the next few hours the Russian girls—sisters named Nadia and Katia—were our happy, enthusiastic tour guides. In their New York–accented English, they instructed us in the finer points of the lady's Turkish bath. Without a shred of false modesty they stood naked before us, showing us how to properly tie our long towels. We followed along as they laid the cloth about their big white breasts—over the right shoulder, under the left— and soon the dressing room was filled with female Roman senators, splendid in their blue and white togas.
We were led into a large tiled room filled with hot menthol-scented vapors. As impassive attendants poured cool water over our exhausted heads, we perspired away a thousand miles of railroad ash. Some of the girls could only stand the steam for a few minutes, but I could have sat on that hot slab of marble an hour, the vapors cleansing me of a million worries and the memory of death.
Next came a hot pool so large that, had we so desired, we could have held a swimming race. Here, sweet cake and hair soaps were provided. Some of the women who knew one another or those who were related lazily scrubbed each other's scalps or backs. And it came to me as we stood or sat, shy within our towels or brazen upon the marble, how nakedness creates all women equal. No fine or dowdy clothes separate us, no elaborate foundations hide the flaws or accentuate the assets of our bodies. In nakedness, there is no class, no money, no poverty. We are simple creatures composed of twos: eyes, ears, arms, breasts, legs. By the time I reached the dressing room once again, I was as one reborn, a babe created from sweetness and pleasure.
Now I am returned to the hotel. By some fluke or mistake— and unlike every other woman among us—I discovered that I had not been assigned a roommate. In my previous life I might have welcomed such privacy. But here, gazing at the narrow empty bed opposite my own, I felt strangely as if I had been deprived, shortchanged of something all the others had been given. Still, my nearly complete state of relaxation did not allow for any truly sad emotions, and soon I slept.
By the time the noise awoke me, the light outside my little window had gone from yellow to orange. The woman bustling through my room was clearly taking no pains to protect my rest. She clomped across the floorboards like a fisherman navigating a dock. Considering her small size and slightness, I was amazed that she could even produce such a clatter. Although I was now awake, I did not rise but secretly observed the bold intruder.
She could not have stood more than five-foot-three inches. She appeared lean and lithe, but her movements were ungraceful, mannish. She wore a two-breasted woolen traveling suit of dark camel with a white blouse and spotted bow tie. It was neither cheap nor expensive and bore all the marks of the hard journey.
Her face was a remarkable combination: Her hair was as black as a Spaniard's, tied back tight and undressed by pins or pomade. She had a sallow complexion, and her eyes, beneath heavy lids, were gray. Full lips and a strong chin bespoke a more Anglo-Saxon heritage, but most striking of all were cheekbones that cut her face in sharp quarters; planes so high and chiseled they suggested a heritage of the red Indian. And although it was true that this woman was not beautiful, it was equally true that this would never matter.
She stripped off the jacket, threw her traveling case upon the bed opposite mine and proceeded to unpack. Out came a skirt, a blouse, a corset, and underclothing. I began to rouse myself from my pillow to greet the stranger when a voice like a darning needle pierced my words dead center.
“Laura Bullion,” she said. “Texas by way of Tennessee. Better wake up, pretty. Dinner. Ten minutes.”
She turned back to her work, apparently uninterested in any reply. I rose, catching sight in the mirror of the rat's nest my hair had become since I had washed it at the Luxor. Standing, I combed and dressed it, gaining a higher angle of sight over Laura Bullion's suitcase. I hate to admit to such prying but, given the result, I am glad my feminine curiosity caused me to spy. For peeking from the lining of a pair of green and gold slippers was a glint of hard silver.
I have spent my life in the company of too many guns not to know a derringer when I see one.
Dear Miss PLACE,
Enclosed please find your Contract of Employment.
I ask that you please read it carefully. Should some of the terms seem unfamiliar to you, or if the actual reading of the document should prove difficult, myself or a member of our staff will be most pleased to aid you or to read the contract aloud to you.
We welcome you to the Harvey family and look forward to working with you in the coming year.
Very truly yours, Mrs. Loretta M. Kelley
Directoress of Personnel,
Wabash Region
THE FRED HARVEY COMPANY
LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS
Providing only the finest in food and lodging for
elite rail travelers since 1876
BINDING CONTRACT OF EMPLOYMENT
Whereas, the Fred Harvey Company (which shall be known hereafter in this indenture as the employer) has seen fit to secure Miss Etta S. Place (who shall be known hereafter in this indenture as the employee), of St. Monica's Orphan's Convent School, Philadelphia, Pa. in a position of work, this Contract of Employment is issued and shall, under its terms and conditions, be legally binding upon both employer and employee for a period of time no less than and not to exceed ONE YEAR from the date indicated. Such time shall be known in this indenture as the period of employment and shall include all days inclusive from the date indicated through 365 days from said date through the date of termination.
Article I During the period of employment the employee agrees to perform any and all such duties related, but not limited to, the hygienic handling and serving of foodstuffs in the assigned restaurant owned and operated by the employer, during such hours as to be decided by the employer.
Article II Attendant to this last, the employee agrees to maintain at all times a clean and wholesome appearance consistent with the prevailing traditions of taste and refinement that have become associated with all establishments maintained by the employer. The employee agrees to wear and maintain the Harvey Girl uniform and to at no time appear anywhere within the assigned establishment without a clean white starched apron, all such clean uniforms and aprons to be provided by the employer. The employee also agrees that at no time will she apply facial cosmetics of any kind, chew tobocco or chewing gum, smoke cigars or cigarettes, or take snuff. Such limitations shall occur in all situations, public or private, for the indicated period of employment.
Article III The employee agrees that for the aforementioned period of employment she shall not marry or enter into any other such arrangement that may simulate, imitate, or otherwise resemble in any manner, shape, or form, wedlock.
Article IV During the period of employment the employer shall provide clean and pleasant lodgings and board, including bed linens, pillow, blankets as needed, three wholesome and adequate meals per day, and clean uniforms and aprons. A curfew of ten (10) o'clock P.M. shall be strictly enforced for all employees so housed within company facilities. The employer shall also provide full transportation for the employee both to the assigned establishment and from it at the conclusion of this indenture. Transport shall be limited to locations within the continental United States. Employee salary shall total $17.50 per month in United States currency and shall include four days off per month, which shall be determined by the employer and only after adequate notification in advance to Harvey management by the employee.
Article V Employee stipulates and/or proves that she is of a legal age of no younger than eighteen (18) years of age and no older than thirty (30) years of age and therefore may lawfully sign and enter into this indenture.
The Fred Harvey Company welcomes you to the august ranks of The Harvey Girls.
Contract dated 12 May 1898
Frederick H. Harvey
Frederick H. Harvey Founder and President
Loretta M. Kelley (Mrs
.)
Loretta M. Kelley Company Representative
Employee
ASSIGNED HARVEY HOUSE RESTAURANT/HOTEL
Grand Junction, Colorado
“Mrs. Kelley I'm not quite sure I understand this part here at the bottom,” Etta said.
“‘Assigned Harvey House or Hotel.’ That little slash mark means or, my dear. Don't worry. It simply means that you have been assigned to work in one of our nicer and newer establishments in the city of Grand Junction in the state of Colorado.”
Etta looked around the small, sparsely furnished private bedroom that now served Mrs. Kelley as an office. All day long girls had been coming through, sitting for their final interviews and signing their contracts. When her turn came, Etta had assumed there would be no surprises; then she took note of the parchment's final line.
“Please, Mrs. Kelley, don't think me ungrateful, but my father's attorney led me to believe that I would be working here in Chicago. Is there no way for this to remain the case? I would be more than happy for you to redraw the contract under terms more favorable to you and your company. Less salary, perhaps … or longer hours?”
Mrs. Kelley's high-colored face broadened to a slow and sympathetic smile. The gaelic lilt in her voice was much like that of the poor Mrs. Reeves who had found her father; made by God to soothe.
“Miss Place, we of Harvey do not maintain facilities in such great cities as this. We are, instead, outposts of civilization along the rougher rails of this country. So even if I had a position to give you here or in your beloved Philadelphia or my sorely missed Boston—it wouldn't matter as there would be no restaurant or hostel in which you might work. I beg you not to be afraid of tales of the Wild West, with its heathen Indians and badmen. It is, after all, 1898; and even to the far hills and mountains the modern world has come.”
Etta: A Novel Page 3
