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“Nurse, nursery maid, or wet nurse, we start our shift at seven o’clock every morning and end at seven o’clock every evening, except on Thursdays and Sundays. Those are your designated days off. We do not allow courting without strict approval and even then, with a chaperone or another couple,” Louise said, chin raised. “Constitution outside of the nursery is every bit—if not more important—as job performance. Many people in prominent positions would rather we not exist, so we must be twice as clean, twice as upstanding, twice as efficient, and twice as exemplary in everything we do.”
“Yes ma’am.”
It was six o’clock in the morning, her first as an employee of the incubator exhibit. A pale yellow horizon pushed back the indigo night as Sophie sat at the dining room table. She had barely stepped out of bed before Louise began her training, beginning with this litany of rules. Bleary-eyed, she was grateful the fresh buttered bread and creamy milk soothed her empty stomach, and the rich coffee warmed her bones in the brisk April dawn. In her nervous excitement, Sophie struggled to keep track of the endless list Louise recited.
“Furthermore, your uniform is to be pressed and spotless. Your hair must always be up and secured so it never touches your collar. You are to be duteous and do your work quietly, efficiently. No interaction with the guests. Keep opinions to yourself.” She paused as if to make sure Sophie absorbed every word. “Now, finish your breakfast. Nora will fetch you and show you to your new quarters, where you will find your uniform. I’ll be waiting for you in the nursery.” And with that, Louise was gone with a whoosh of her skirts.
Alone, Sophie picked up the morning newspaper, the banner headline stating, “Triangle Tragedy Reigns in Lower Manhattan.” She quickly turned the page—she did not have the stomach or heart to read details about any more deaths or obituaries of friends and acquaintances. She scanned headlines about politics and current events until one article caught her eye:
~~~
Incubator Inspections Incite
Indignation
An outcry from the health department and the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Children calls Dr. Martin Couney a fraud, demanding further inspections of his popular Coney Island Incubator Exhibit.
“He’s a baby-farming racketeer,” Elaine Martin, director of the Society says. “He’s a disgrace to the medical profession, and we are calling for his arrest.”
“I’m doing nothing wrong,” Dr. Couney said when asked how he felt about being called a common criminal and a quack. In a thick Polish accent he said, “I am helping babies who have no chance of survival otherwise.”
~~~
SOPHIE RECALLED HOW Louise had said many in high places would rather they not exist.
Dr. Couney stood over her so suddenly she jumped. She wanted to hide the paper behind her back. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes after what it had said about him.
He cleared his throat, “It is a beautiful morning to care for babies.”
“Yes, sir,” she said weakly.
He patted her on the shoulder and headed out the front door.
Sophie’s face burned with shame. But what did she have to be ashamed of? She thought about Mercy in Dr. Couney’s care for over a week now, trusting him to keep her safe, and he had. But these were convincing agencies dedicated to keeping the public safe. How could she ignore their accusations?
Sophie refolded the paper and set it back on the table.
~~~
AT THE BACK ENTRANCE of the incubator exhibit, Sophie followed Nora up two flights of stairs to the staff quarters. The hallway was white like the rest of the buildings and smelled like oil soap and vinegar. They passed several rooms occupied by other nurses and wet nurses until they came to one at the end of the hall. “This is your room,” Nora smiled. “I think you’ll find it more than accommodating.”
Indeed, the room was larger than any in their Ludlow Street tenement. There were two of everything: beds, desks, generous sized wardrobes, and in the middle of the room a dormer window seat. Someone already occupied One side of the room, as evidenced by personal items—books, hair ribbons, a hat of the latest fashion—neatly arranged on the desk and hanging from the closet door.
“You will be sharing with Bridget,” Nora said.
Sophie clasped her hands together and grinned. She’d taken an immediate liking to the girl. “How wonderful!”
On Sophie’s bed lay two crisp blue dresses—all white was reserved for nurses—along with two full length white aprons, two pair of new black stockings, and one white mobcap. All this in addition to the other clothes and black, lace-up shoes they had already given her? Sophie felt astounded by their generosity.
Plain muslin drapes dressed the windows and puddled onto the sides of the window seat. Sophie walked over to the window and gasped. The view was magnificent, blooming cherry trees parting to reveal the Atlantic Ocean, dancing whitecaps and the deep blue line of the horizon beyond. On the desk was a new writing tablet, writing paper, and envelopes for correspondence, along with a set of pencils. The room was as clean as the nursery and exhibit—no street dust, no lingering smells of boiled duck fat or krupnik, no clatter of horses and carts on cobblestone or constant commotion from street vendors.
“Oh, Nora, this is all—it’s so wonderful.”
“Don’t dawdle, Louise is waiting,” Nora said with a gleam in her eye.
Sophie did not waste a moment pulling on the clean new stockings, replacing the skirt and shirtwaist that had been her daily attire, with the uniform dress, and sliding her feet into the sturdy leather shoes. She supposed she had never had so many new clothes in her entire lifetime. She brushed and re-braided her hair, making sure to pin it snug above her collar, then positioned the mobcap on top. She smiled at the reflection of herself. As she hurried downstairs to the nursery, she felt like the fanciest maid in the city.
The nursery was quiet with no sign of Louise. Across the room she saw Mercy’s incubator and approached it. She glanced at the papers where the night nurse had recorded her feedings, her temperature, heart rate, and breathing. The penmanship was impeccable. While Sophie didn’t understand exactly what the numbers meant, she wondered if Mercy had improved some since no one hovered around her as they had the first days of their arrival. Mercy looked more pink, more relaxed, like she didn’t have to fight for every breath. She put her hands on the glass, gently so as not to disturb her sleeping niece. “I’ll not leave you, sweet Mercy.”
Next to Mercy’s incubator was a row of cabinets, some with neatly labeled drawers and others with shelves full of supplies and bottles of medicine. Another held rows of ledgers dated on the spines. And on another, a list of rules was posted:
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NURSERY RULES
1. Handwashing with chlorine is required for any interaction with infants and scrubbing of the hands and arms up to the elbows for every other employee at the start of your duties.
2. Absolutely no touching, holding, or manipulation of the infants by anyone other than the child’s assigned nurse, Maye, Louise, or Dr. Couney.
3. Daily sweep and mop the floors, dust the patient’s furniture and windowsills.
4. Light is important to observe the patient’s condition. Therefore, each day fill kerosene lamps, trim wicks, and replace any dead electric bulbs.
5. The nurse’s notes are important in aiding Dr. Couney’s work. Make your pens carefully; you may whittle nibs to your individual taste.
6. Each nurse on day duty will report every day at 7 a.m. and leave at 7 p.m.
7. Nurses and nursery maids in good standing will be given an evening off each week for courting purposes, provided the suitor has been approved by the director of nursing. Two evenings of courting are allowed if you go regularly to church.
8. Each nurse should lay aside from each payday a goodly sum of her earnings for her benefits during her declining years, so that she will not become a burden. For example, if you earn $30 a month, you should set aside $15.
9. Any nurse or nursery maid who smokes, uses liquor in any form, gets her hair done at a beauty shop or frequents dance halls will give the director of nurses good reason to suspect her worth, intentions and integrity.
10. The nurse who performs her labors and serves her patients and Dr. Couney faithfully and without fault each six months will be given an increase in pay of two cents per day.
HOW WILL I EVER REMEMBER all this? Sophie wondered as she watched Mercy.
Finally, one nurse entered the nursery with an incubator. The middle-aged woman had dark brown hair with strands of gray concentrated at the temples. Wide hipped and bosomy, her ample figure was a sharp contrast to her pointed chin and long, thin nose.
“Excuse me, have you seen Louise?” Sophie said, offering the woman her kindest smile, but it failed to soften the woman’s rigid countenance.
“And who are you?” the woman said, lip curled as she flitted her eyes over Sophie from head to toe and back again.
“I—I’m sorry, I’m Sophie, the new nursery maid. Louise asked me to meet her here.” Sophie extended her hand.
The woman gasped and her eyes widened as she took a step back. “Are you some kind of imbecile? My hands have been scrubbed.”
What have I done to be such a bother already? Sophie wondered, a knot of anxiety replacing the excitement she had felt moments before.
“No, she is not an imbecile, Jane. This is her first day as an employee. She also happens to be Mercy’s aunt,” said Louise sternly over Sophie’s shoulder.
Jane continued to look at Sophie coolly. “She certainly has a lot to learn,” she said, unmistakable disdain in her voice.
“You have some temperatures to take, do you not, Jane? Some baths to give?” Louise said, crossing her arms.
Jane replied with an exasperated sigh, raised an eyebrow at Sophie, then strode toward a set of incubators across the room.
“Don’t mind her,” Louise said. “She’s been here for years and takes great pleasure in eating our newest staff members for breakfast.”
Sophie had a feeling Jane would do just that, slowly and with a spoon.