an ordinary one is fully dashed. These boats appear to hold a cargo of flowers.
Nobles. My hands begin shaking so, I have to clasp them lest my brother tease me about being scared. Broadsheet sketches show how nobles favor elaborate clothing and ornaments like silver buckles and feathers, ribbons and lace and jewelry. How they powder their hair and wear it piled up like loaves of bread. They are used to much service, Father has told us. We may oft be called upon to practice patience and charity.
“I’m counting seventeen . . . nay . . . twenty passengers,” John says, “and but three cabins finished.”
“Surely not thy fault, John. If thou didn’t have to work so on the Queen’s house, the others might be done by now.”
“And even her house remains unfinished. It will go hard, I fear.”
Father is standing with many of the joiners who have stopped work in order to see these nobles. They are talking among themselves and look worried. So do several of the other girls hired as servants for the French. Ten-year-old Rachel Stalk is tearing at a thumbnail with her small front teeth. Emmeline Cooper and Mary Worthington are leaning against one another. Older women, too, clump together like scared hens.
“John,” I whisper. “We’re in a real hobble, there being so many. Dost thou think the Queen be with them?”
His jaw is hard-set, like Father’s. “Could be.”
“Will they take our cabin?”
“Might.”
“Then how shall we do our work for them?”
“Don’t know.”
“Oh, John. Would that Mr. Talon had never found Father.”
“He wanted the best, and Father is that.”
“Aye, but all the same.”
“’Tis fifty cents a day, sister.”
“For thou, but twenty-five for me.”
“And more for Father. We shall prosper this year, Hannah, and earn enough for our farm.”
“We know their language but poorly, John. I fear we shan’t be able to do their bidding.”
“We will learn.”
“And they, English?”
“They may know it already. Father says they know a great many things despite their grand ways.”
Ladies walk down the gangplank like unsteady calves. The gentlemen do their best to keep them upright. Everyone’s feathers are drooping in the rain. All together, these nobles look like a flock of wet fancy birds.
“John, the colors!”
“Aye.”
Some ladies in rust red, others in deep green or blue. Some in light green and pink. The loveliest paint-box colors! The gentlemen, too. Frock coats of red and black, gold and black, blue and purple. Fur-trimmed cloaks of cranberry red and sky blue. And stockings so white. And beaver hats all beplumed. The ladies’ hats, as well. It fairly takes the breath. I clasp my hands all the harder.
They are like birds that don’t want to alight on the saw-dusty ground. Shaking their feathers, shaking their heads, holding up parasols, holding up gowns. Everyone is scowling. It bodes not well.
“Hannah,” John says.
The tone of his voice tells me something more is amiss. And then I see the two dark-skinned men hauling up the last longboat. One is tall and thin, the other much shorter and with white hair. A Frenchman shouts at them, but they say naught. There are two other dark-skinned people in the boat, both women. One appears young. The other is stouter and older. Both are plainly dressed compared to the Frenchman, who wears a bunch of green feathers in his hat and a dark green frock coat and ember-colored cape. He is a barrel of a man, his girth making up for a lack of height.
“If they be slaves, John, Father will be most displeased.” Father and Mother both have taught us that for one person to enslave another goes against the principle of equality stated so grandly in our new country’s Declaration of Independence. And it goes against our own belief that there is that of God in each of us because each of us is made in God’s image, male and female alike.
But these may be free Negroes. ’Tis possible, as there are a number of free Negroes within our Commonwealth. I pray for this to be the case, and then continue practicing the French word for welcome. Bienvenue. Bee-en-ve-new.
I survey all the ladies and decide upon the youngest, at the far end of the group. Look kindly, Hannah, and not like a rabbit caught within a hedge of brambles. Nobles pass us as if we aren’t here at all. One corpulent noble, though, a short white beard circling jaw and chin, does glance our way. With his left hand, he holds a long walking stick for balance, but with his right, he makes some motion on the air as he passes. His mouth twitches a bit. It seems a smile. Bee-en-ve-new, I whisper. Now comes the young lady. She is carrying a small dog with long ears. A young man walks with her, but she is nearer to me. I am glad, for the young man appears finical.
I take a step forward. “Bien—”
The lady’s face becomes a white stone, her eyes hard blue ones. She says something sharp in her language, and the finical young man gives us a look to send us under.
It startles tears. I lower my head and turn to leave, but John whispers, “Wait, Hannah. Look how they’re bowing. ’Tis a sight.”
Gentlemen are removing their feathered hats, taking a step backward and bowing to the ladies and to other men. Ladies hold onto their gowns, take a number of fancy steps backward, and sink downward before one another. So does the one with the white dog. The ladies, though, don’t remove their high-crowned hats. The young one sets her dog down on the ground but it cries, so she lifts it up again even though its paws have gotten muddy. I might do the same, the wee thing so scared. This lady can’t be as snarlish as she made herself out to be.
“John, what did I do wrong?”
“Naught, Hannah, but try to greet them. What she did was wrong. Don’t blame thyself.”
“Well, ’twas a poor start. Father might know. Surely I do not wish to give such offense again.” I raise my apron to my eyes.
“Ah, Hannah. They be the ones who need to learn manners.”
“I fear they shall want us to bow and—”
“Well, we shan’t. Father has explained it all to Mr. Talon. Do not worry so, Hannah.”
“But if the Queen—which one was she, John? Dost thou know?”
“They all looked one and the same to me.”
“I cannot be the one to serve her!”
“Worry not. Talon will see to it. Now I must find Father. And thou had best seek out Talon. He shall tell thee what to do. Quick, now.”
He runs off in the light rain. I wish Father had not chosen me.
