Treating Servants Fairly

Not all servants in the early 20th century were as well-treated or content as those characters which were depicted in television’s “Downton Abbey.” Some common courtesy and thoughtfulness of treatment by the employers would have gone a long way in the lives of those who lived in servitude.

Thoughtlessness on Part of Some Employers

There is a thoughtless group of people who ignore servants as though they might be articles of furniture instead of live things, who can feel and see and suffer mental, as well as physical, pain. This is a social class who suffer thoughtlessly inflicted pain and humiliation, with the general attitude of those who inflict it being that their feelings don’t count —if they have any. 

“I am writing of the servant class, the Bridgets and the Mary Anns. You notice I write the Ann without a final “e" the little finish which sets a gulf between the socially important and their less fortunate sisters. The particular Bridget who wrote what follows is an educated foreign woman whose education is plainly evident in her handwriting and her thinking. How would you like to be such a woman and earn your living working for some of the people whom she describes? 

‘For my class it’s take it on the chin, grin or beat it and no job. To be sure I’m British. I served in one home eight years which seems to prove that I was treated humanely. I remember the lovely room I had and often compared it with the Bridget’s quarters given me, to a long succession of dumps I’ve occupied here. I thought of it recently as I retired in my servant’s room better described as a pig sty.’ 

Walls of Room Dirty...

‘It was small, dark and had dirty walls which could be cleaned up for the cost of about $4. But when approached on the subject my mistress said ‘no.’ She considered herself a socialite but some of her neighbors called her ‘alley cat.’ And I guess she earned that. 

One former employer still owes me for two years back wages. I took it to the small claims court but find all you get there is a judgment. The court makes no effort to enforce its findings. So it’s up to me to do my own collecting. 

At another place of squatting I found the parents two drunks. The trimmings were all attached, and there was street fighting with the officers at 3 a. m. ‘Papa’ met me in the hall as he was coming in and he was wearing his real birthday suit so I packed and moved. Many maids I know have wonderful references but stay in a place only a little while.’ 

Considers Folks Funny...

‘Do you blame them? I am middle-aged and homeless but an experienced needle-woman—and so, although I hate it—l’m on relief.  And my former employers are among those who complain against the luxury I am supposed to enjoy. I should, have been content with a Bridget’s lot.  Ain’t’ folks funny?’

 Funny? No. It’s more like “thoughtless and careless.” – From an article by Estelle Lawton Lindsey, 1936

Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J Graber, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia 

Etiquette and One's Servants

Nell Ashley, Writing from a Reform School, Tells What Maids Endure from Sons and Husbands of the Fashionable Women Who Employ Them

What Shall Be Done to the House Sheik?

No one seems able to tell us why is it that a girl who goes into domestic service is looked down upon by folks inside and outside the home, while the girl who takes a business position if regarded with respect. While homemakers are theorizing about the scarcity of help, Nell Ashley, a high-school girl who became a personal maid in a rich home in order to save enough money to take a business course, comes right out with the facts. 

The true story of her experiences, published in February Smart Set reveals that there is need of a course in etiquette to teach men members of wealthy households, that the maids employed by their wives and mothers, are not there to satisfy their flirtatious desires. Here are interesting extracts from this disillusioned girl’s expose: 

“My mother, who had been a chorus girl, died when I was five years old. My Aunt Millie adopted me. She, herself, was a domestic servant. I graduated from High School when I was sixteen. That summer my aunt got me a position as chambermaid in the palatial country home of a New York millionaire. 

“It was hard work. My mistress was one of those women who are always having trouble with her servants, and in addition to my own duties, I often had to act as personal maid, parlor maid and kitchen girl. But I didn’t mind hard work, I was buoyed up by the prospect of entering business school in the fall.

“Toward the end of my vacation, the oldest son arrived. He was a student at Yale. He was nothing to write home about; a jolly, good-natured boy, full of the devil. He liked to tease me because I blushed so easy and I tried to keep out of his way as much as possible. 

“One morning as I was making his bed, he returned unexpectedly to get something. Suddenly he seized me in his arms and said jokingly, ‘Come on now, let me see you blush. Goldilocks!’

“Just at that moment his mother appeared in the doorway. ‘What does this mean?’ she demanded angrily. ‘You disgraceful creature! Pack your trunk and leave this house immediately.’ Bewildered, dazed, overcome with embarrassment, I stood motionless. ‘Have you no shame?’ She hissed the words, venomously like an angry snake, or a vicious cat. The young man protested halfheartedly. ‘It wasn’t her fault, Mother—really —’

“And it wasn’t. It was just as I have told you. But I have never been ready with a quick answer. I am stupid like that. And her sudden attack made me dumb. My tongue was paralyzed with fear. ‘What do you mean, lying here when I tell you to get out?' she screamed. The charming, perfectly poised society leader was a raging cat. Her friends wouldn’t have known her. 

“‘You ungrateful baggage! Wait until I tell your aunt about this. I will see that she commits you to an institution!’ “While I was packing, tears blinding my eyes, I heard a piece of paper being shoved under the door. It was a note from Mr. Harry, folded around a fifty dollar bill. ‘Sorry, Goldilocks, I can’t make mother listen to reason.’ it read. ‘In case you have nowhere to go, you can probably find a room at West 50th Street. Ask for Miss Brandon. She’s a friend of mine. Be sure and let me know your address anyhow.’

“I didn't hesitate to take that fifty dollars—my wages were being paid to my aunt, and I didn't have a cent of my own. Had I had time to think the matter over, I might have acted differently. As it was, I was terrified at the prospect of being sent to a ‘home.’ I took a train for New York.’’ 

Miss Ashley proceeds to relate how her victimization sent her to a reform school, when she was prepared for domestic service, which led to a fresh round of humiliation. — Madera Tribune, 1925

Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J Graber, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia