I Was a Bar Harbor Bellhop And oh, the things I saw - before the war and the fire changed everything. By Franc Ladner. 0 NE summer day a few years ago I to the side-wheeler J.T. decided to drop by the Bar Harbor Morse for the last leg of the Historical Society's museum, locat- voyage. Later on, we trav- ed on the lower level of the Jesup eled by automobile - a Memorial Library. Upon entering the two-day journey due to all museum, my eyes were drawn not to the the blowouts and break- numerous exhibits on the town's past but downs that car travel instead to the heavy worktable that stood entailed in those early years. in the center of the room. A card attached What a contrast Bar to it read: "This table came from the help's Harbor was to the nondescript Boston sub- were considered the height of grandeur, and dining room at the St. Sauveur Hotel." That urb where our two-family house perched the Newport was certainly an important was all it took for the memories to come along a street lined with identical houses. part of this fashionable world. It billed itself flooding back. Back in the late thirties and That one week's vacation seemed like a as "the only hotel on the shore," and stood early forties, I had been one of the "help" fantasy even while we were in Maine; the in what is now the public park on the steep that gathered around that table three times rest of the year we dreamed about our last bank facing the town pier. Typical of the a day. I spent three summers working as a visit and planned for our next. So, in 1937, grand hotels, the Newport had three stories bellhop at the St. Sauveur, as well as one when a girlhood chum of my mother's rec- beneath its mansard roof, a full, wrap- summer prior to that at the Newport House ommended me - a high-school junior- around veranda, and, located behind, an nearby. Both of these grand hotels are now as a potential bellhop at the august Newport adjoining annex connected to the main gone, no longer providing summer jobs for House, I was both apprehensive and ecsta- hotel by a covered walkway. aspiring college students or gracious vaca- tic - apprehensive about taking on my A bellhop's duties were not strenuous, tions for well-heeled guests; only this table, first summer job and ecstatic at the prospect at least not at the Newport during that sum- a few other mementos, and memories like of an entire summer in my beloved Bar mer when the Great Depression had the mine remain. Harbor. economy still limping and the guest list was My mother had been lucky enough to The Newport House had been built in anything but full. (The room rates that sum- grow up in Bar Harbor, a descendant of set- 1869 just as Bar Harbor was gaining its mer of 1937 were six and seven dollars per tlers who came to the region in the 1700s. reputation as a chic summer resort; before day, American Plan - a large sum in those Our family, however, lived in Boston and long, it would have fifteen large hotels. days, sending many would-be guests off in only got to visit on vacation, one week "The old inflammables" was what Cornelia search of less expensive accommodations.) every summer starting in 1920, the year I Otis Skinner dubbed them - an especial- We bellhops carried the guests' luggage to was born. At first, we took the overnight ly apt moniker considering some burned their rooms and ran the elevator. boat from Boston, transferring in Rockland repeatedly. In their day, however, they (Continued on page 115) 84, Photograph by Benjamin Magro Down East APRIL 1996 85 Bar Harbor Bellhop (Continued from page 85) turned out to be the hotel's last; it was mistake, he would snap his fingers in dis- demolished shortly thereafter, a casualty of gust and repeat the whole process until he Guests, for the most part, were regulars the Depression and already changing tastes was finally satisfied. Dennis pulled off his who had been staying at the Newport for in vacationing. complicated rehearsal perfectly, but more years. By then quite elderly, they were def- often than not when the guests showed up initely from another era. The gentlemen I T would be two years before I was in person, his failing memory would get the dressed nattily in jackets, ties, and white lucky enough to spend another summer best of him and he would greet them by flannels, while the ladies wore loose, usu- in Bar Harbor. This time I put my bell- the wrong name and show them to the ally off-white garments of indeterminate hop experience to work at the smaller, but wrong table. style and age. Their distinguished names no less stylish, St. Sauveur Hotel, located As for the rest of the staff, there was were to be found in the social registers of more centrally in town, just up from Main the head waitress, a sharp-tongued disci- Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, and Street and across from two other giant plinarian in charge of training and super- I soon learned to recognize each city's dis- hotels, the Malvern and the Belmont. By vising the waitresses, who were often tinctive accent. They would travel around then I had a year of college behind me and young schoolteachers working to supple- Bar Harbor in ancient limousines Rolls was much better prepared to make the most ment their winter wages of less than a thou- Royces, Hispano-Suizas, Locomobiles, of a long summer away from home. sand dollars a year. The two or three maids, and other exotic makes - all scrupulous- As for the staff, there was Ben, the engi- usually middle-aged spinsters from tiny ly maintained by uniformed chauffeurs. neer, a crusty old Yankee who spent his towns down east, were our best source of days in the cellar feeding wood, coal, and gossip about the guests, mostly gleaned S TILL in vogue among this old-style all the hotel trash into a giant steam boil- from lingering outside closed doors, par- gentility was the fascinating practice er, which in turn provided hot water for the ticularly if the occupants were suspected of leaving calling cards. It went some- hotel and for its in-house laundry. There of living in sin. And then there were the thing like this: a limousine would draw up was Mrs. Francis, a tiny, wizened, hard- chef, the baker, and their assistants all in front of the hotel, upon which cue the working Penobscot Indian from the island of whom could be counted upon to be bellhop on duty would descend down the reservation in Old Town. She ran the laun- prima donnas, if not outright megaloma- long flight of steps, bearing a small silver niacs. They followed the vacationing tray. Through the open car window the The two or three crowd from season to season, in winter white-gloved hand of a lady passenger working at Florida hotels, in summer would stretch languidly out to deposit a vis- maids, usually returning to Maine. iting card on the tray. Sometimes the card middle-aged spinsters would have a corner folded down, the sig- nificance of which I can't remember. The from tiny towns A grand structure like the Newport House, the St. Sauveur was a mas- gentlewoman would announce that her down east, were our sive L-shaped building, reached card was to be delivered to such-and-such best source of gossip from the circular driveway by a broad set a guest. Then the hand would be regally of steps (again, just the proper setting for withdrawn and the limousine would depart, about the guests. bellhops receiving calling cards). Its huge presumably to leave still more cards at parlor contained a massive fireplace and other prime watering spots. dry operation with the help of one or two wicker furniture with cretonne-covered As a properly uniformed bellhop, I had silent, shy Indian girls. There was the cushions; nearby was the lobby, the dining my own place in this strange world of anti- genial Allston Smith, in winter a Rockland room, and the side hall where the clerks and quated etiquette, but I never found much school teacher, in summer the St. Sauveur's owners ate their meals. The customary to do in my free time. The other bellhops, head clerk presiding over the hotel's front broad veranda encircled the front, set with all college chaps, did not mix socially with desk. He was also in charge of the old-fash- the green hickory rocking chairs that high-school kids like me, SO I spent much ioned telephone switchboard, which with seemed to be de rigueur in Bar Harbor. of my leisure time walking the Shore Path, its tangle of cords, brass plugs, and switch- Some of the guest bedrooms which filled past the big houses with their extensive es, served as the nerve center of the whole the three floors were still furnished with lawns and carefully tended flower gar- operation. what are now very collectable Victorian dens. On occasional afternoons off, I visi- One of the most unforgettable charac- "cottage sets" a painted and stenciled ted my great-grandparents (both born in ters at the St. Sauveur was the very prop- pine bed, with matching bureau, commode, 1850) and grandmother at their small er Dennis Cremins, the maitre d' of very and straight chairs. house, where I would play the ancient, out- long standing, still ramrod straight in his At the ground level below the veranda of-tune upright piano and all three gener- tuxedo, his pince-nez adding an air of old- were housed the kitchen, the help's dining ations would join in singing such favorite fashioned elegance. Sadly, however, room (with the heavy worktable that now hymns and old songs as "Tenting Tonight advancing age was beginning to rob him resides at the historical society), and the in the Old Camp Ground," "Marching of his élan. From our bellhops' bench, we chefs' and bakers' bedrooms. On the top through Georgia," and others of the Civil would surreptitiously watch as before each floor, under the leaves, the rest of us had War era. At the time I truly enjoyed it, but meal Dennis went through a showy pan- our sleeping quarters - the waitresses it is only now, nearly sixty years later, that tomime of his routine, pretending to greet down at one end, the bellhops and night I realize what a rare privilege that experi- the guests (who had not yet arrived, of clerk at the other end, with the ever-alert ence was. course) by name, conducting them to their maids residing in the rooms in between. As it turned out, I did not recognize assigned table, and chitchatting about their The three bellhops worked in shifts. what a never-to-be-repeated experience health or the weather. He would bow with Whichever of us was assigned early duty my employment at the Newport House was such deference, and hand out menus with would start the day by climbing to the top either. My first summer at the Newport such gracious flourishes. When he made a of the central tower and then from there APRIL 1996 115 through a trapdoor to raise the flag. That done, the early riser proceeded to sweep the seemingly endless expanse of the veranda, a lengthy process which required moving every one of those heavy rocking chairs. We bellhops were also responsible for attending to numerous guests' requests, such as shining their shoes and, at seven o'clock sharp in the morning, delivering a small pitcher of boiling hot water to one of our older guests who returned season after season, Mr. Martin Van Buren, grandson of the late President. The grandson was in his eighties by then, a short, rotund man with a completely bald head. As I recall, he spent a considerable amount of time at a card table in his room rolling his own lumpy cigarettes. Every morning he ate a Call or write for our color brochure and video packet showing boiled egg for breakfast, and I can still hear design possibilities, $20.00, Houses and Barns by John Libby. the staccato beat of his spoon cracking the egg in its cup. P.O. Box 258J, Freeport, Maine 04032 (207)865-4169 That summer as well, I led a very low- Houses & key social life outside the hotel. The next JOhN summer - 1940 - everything changed. Barns by I fell hopelessly in love with a local girl who had just graduated from high Libby est. school and was going on to art school in 1971 Boston. Fortunately for me, she also had TM a large group of friends, both local and off-island young people. All of us were working, broke, idealistic, and very glad to be in this beautiful spot. In our off-duty MAINE'S LARGEST ANTIQUARIAN BOOK DEALER AND hours, we built bonfires on a secluded ANTIQUE SHOP, WITH OVER 21,000 SQ. FT. FILLED WITH beach, shivered in pea-soup fogs on the BOOKS AND ANTIQUES. You might find anything from a 19th- town pier, sunbathed on Bunker Hill, danced at the now-defunct Casino, and century armoire to books on Zen. We cater to the interests of on one memorable evening put on a late- today's collector of antiques and paper collectibles. Wander in night clambake with the whole hotel and browse as you wish. No one will be looking over your shoul- staff. It was an innocent time and we der. Come share the romance of the search for things old, beau- were a fairly innocent lot; there was tiful, wonderful, and fulfilling with us. no drinking and little hanky-panky. We were well aware of the war in Europe, Coastal Route 1, Ellsworth, located halfway constantly reminded by the increasing between Bucksport and Ellsworth. Tel. 207-667-7308 numbers of visiting refugees who were March-December: Open 7 Days a Week especially appreciative of the natural January-February: Open Friday through Monday, 10 A.M.-4 P.M. beauty of the island after having made harrowing escapes from Europe. After such a wondrous summer, my last season as a bellhop in 1941 was perhaps bound to be anticlimactic. The old gang was scattered and the winter separation had cooled the ardor of my great romance. When the hotel closed that September, I BIG took the bus to Bangor and boarded the Boston & Maine train. In a few short years, the St. Sauveur would meet the same fate as the Newport, and then the Great Fire of 1947 would level many of the great hotels and huge cottages that remained. I will never forget my glorious summers there, especially those halcyon days of 1940; for me, however, the glorious last days of the grand summer resort ended when I rode away on that bus. 116 DOWN EAST