American Dream

by Colleen L. Reece

  “The Reverend Colman at Brattle Street Church invites them to come,” Jacob said.

  Maggie shook her head. “That makes no sense. No sense at all.”

  “Have you ever seen a life totally changed by the power of God?”

  “What do you mean? My life is different from a sinner’s because I’m a Christian.”

  “Have you ever seen a sinner become broken and contrite in humble repentance and then turn suddenly joyful because he knows he’s been redeemed?”

  Maggie wasn’t sure how to answer. The question confused her.

  “Perhaps you should come one time and see for yourself, Maggie.”

  “I never would,” she said flatly, closing the conversation. Later she realized that her brother had not said one word during the entire conversation, so she still didn’t know how he felt on the issue.

  With Thanksgiving out of the way, Maggie and Hannah spent every afternoon and evening working on the new dress. True to his word, Father allowed Maggie to decide about the Latin lessons, and she quickly and with great relief put an end to them.

  The satin frock was turning out lovelier than she’d ever dreamed. Hannah could simply glance at a dress and deftly copy the design. Her skills were amazing.

  One afternoon as they sat together in the sitting room, it began to snow. Their chairs and the sewing table were arranged close to the blazing fireplace. Unbidden, thoughts of Ann Cradock came to Maggie’s mind. She thought of her own warm home, the new dress, and all the blessings she enjoyed. Quite without planning, she told Hannah about Ann, describing in detail the sad state of her living conditions.

  “I was wondering,” Maggie said, “if we might have enough fabric to make a warm cloak for the girl.”

  Hannah smiled. “What a generous, kind thought, Maggie. I believe we have enough in the scrap bag to make the lining. We could purchase a warm wool for the outer layer. Let’s make one for the mother, as well, since they both seem to be in need.”

  Maggie wasn’t sure about helping a mother who was living in sin, but she’d leave that to Hannah. The cloak she stitched would be for little Ann. But even as she made her decision, she wondered how her paltry efforts could ever make a difference.

  Several days of snow meant it was time for Evan to bring out the sleigh, clean it up, and wax the runners. To Maggie’s delight, they would ride in the sleigh to the ball.

  Hannah assisted in creating a crown of copper curls high atop Maggie’s head, much like the wig Adelaide now wore. They worked on her hair most of the afternoon prior to the ball. Maggie could scarcely calm herself, and bubbles floated about in her tummy most of the day. She had worn her new dance pumps to the last two dance instruction sessions in order to get used to them. They were like wearing a pair of soft gloves.

  Hannah helped her lace up her whalebone stays till she could scarcely breathe. Her pink shift and quilted petticoat were draped over the pocket hoops, and the soft green brocade overskirt lay over that. The lacy sleeve ruffles hung gracefully from her elbows as she turned about so Hannah could make adjustments here and there. At last, she was ready.

  Father surprised Maggie by wearing a new maroon greatcoat and new knee breeches with ribboned garters that matched his coat. He bowed low, almost sweeping the floor with his cocked hat, as Maggie descended the stairs.

  “My dear Margaret,” he said, gazing up at her, “you will undoubtedly be the loveliest girl at the ball.”

  “Thank you, Father,” she said, taking his arm. “You say that only because I’m yours.”

  “I say that because it’s true,” he insisted. “How I wish your mother could see you now.”

  “What do you think she would say?” Maggie wanted to know.

  “Why,” he answered with eyes twinkling, “she’d say you’ll be the loveliest girl at the ball.” “Oh, Father!”

  “I expect you to save the first space on that dance card for me.”

  “I will,” she said, “and that’s a promise.”

  Evan agreed to drive the sleigh, and it pulled up to the dooryard with bells jingling brightly in the velvety winter night. Everyone was dressed in their finery, and Maggie was quite proud of her little family.

  Lights were ablaze in the Chilton home, causing every window to shine golden against the darkness. Even the dormer windows on the third floor shone like miniature lighthouses. Beacon Street and the yard of the Chilton home were filled with sleighs as well as a few carriages that had managed to make it through the snow. Several footmen stood about seeing to the horses. Since the Baldwins had no footman, Evan would have to periodically come outside and check on the team.

  The clogs strapped on Maggie’s feet helped to keep her new pumps out of the wet snow. She did her best to keep her skirts lifted as her father helped both her and Hannah up the walk to the front door. Even before the butler opened the door to let them in, the lilting melodies greeted them. Tantalizing aromas of cider and eggnog floated about. Boughs of evergreen and yards of lacy ribbons decorated the front hallway, giving it a festive air. The servants had barely taken their wraps when Adelaide was there by her side, breathlessly greeting everyone.

  “The house is lovely, Miss Adelaide,” Hannah said politely. Maggie wondered if even Hannah felt a bit overwhelmed at such excess.

  Father also made polite remarks and then was met by Lucas Chilton, who was as regal in appearance as the governor himself. Mr. Chilton shook Father’s hand and then ushered him into the ballroom. The double parlors were opened and all the rugs taken up. The furniture was pushed against the walls to give the maximum space for dancing. Refreshments were being served in the Chiltons’ sitting room down the hall. Here, too, the rooms had been festooned with garlands of greenery, highlighted in graceful ribboned bows.

  Maggie was surprised to see an orchestra made up of several violins, a cello, a clarinet, and of course the spinet. Small wonder the music gave off such an exquisite sound.

  Surely no court of London ever hosted such a group in such grand style and elegance. The room exploded with a rainbow of color from the men’s gold-trimmed greatcoats and ladies’ satiny dresses.

  Maggie had never received so many compliments in her entire life. One person after another told her how lovely, how “ladylike” she looked. Even Celia and Adelaide, whose dresses had been ordered from London, gave her warm compliments.

  After Pert and Lucas Chilton had formally opened the ball, others quickly joined them on the dance floor. Just as her father had requested, Maggie gave him the first dance, a cotillion. She was delighted to discover that he knew the steps. Partners changed often, and the pace was lively. The white kid dance pumps barely touched the floor, for Maggie fairly floated. While she had thought she might feel out of place, she felt right at home. Dance after dance, fun and laughter, music and more music—Maggie wished it could go on forever.

  Caleb was enamored with so much good food, and Hannah was obliged to keep a close eye on him. Thankfully, he’d let his beloved snake free for the winter, so that was a worry out of the way. Her father was most obviously enjoying himself, and Maggie even observed him asking a few of the widows to dance with him.

  After dancing once with Maggie, Evan was absent much of the time. When asked, he said he was checking on the horses, but Maggie suspected they didn’t need to be checked all that often. Whenever he was inside, Adelaide was as near to him as she could get.

  Many of Boston’s finest young men were signed to dance with Maggie, but to her utter amazement, Oliver paid special attention to her throughout the evening. She found herself chatting with him as though she’d known him forever. He regaled her with tales of his travels to India, Spain, and the West Indies.

  At one point, he escorted her to the sitting room for a cup of hot spicy cider. Several of the young people were standing about in the sitting room talking as she and Oliver entered—Adelaide and Celia among them.

  “Oh, there’s Maggie,” Celia said. “Adelaide’s just learned about a Christmas gift she’s ge
tting. Tell her, Adelaide.”

  Maggie and Oliver stepped closer to the group gathered near the refreshment tables. “A gift from whom?” Maggie asked.

  “My parents,” Adelaide said. “They just took me into Father’s study a few minutes ago to tell me about my Christmas gift from them.” Adelaide’s face beamed as she spoke. “They are getting me a girl of my very own!”

  “A girl?” Maggie said. “Oh, you mean your own servant, like Hayley?”

  “Silly.” Adelaide took her fan from the cord on her wrist and fluttered it about her face. “I mean my own slave. She’s on her way now from Trinidad. Her name’s Melee, and she’s just my age. She’ll be perfect. I’m so excited; I can hardly wait till she arrives.”

  Maggie had heard none of the rest of Adelaide’s words. “You don’t mean you’d actually own another person?” she said. Suddenly, all the eyes of the group turned to her, and she felt her cheeks growing hot.

  “Why, Maggie, whatever are you saying?” Adelaide said. “Nearly every family who is anyone in Boston owns slaves. You know that.”

  Maggie did know that, but she’d never thought of a young girl being a slave before. In fact, she’d never given much thought to slaves at all. She couldn’t explain why this announcement gave her such a feeling of grief deep inside her.

  “She’s from a very poor country,” Adelaide explained. “She’ll probably receive better food and clothing here than ever before in her life.”

  “Come, Maggie,” Oliver was saying, “they’re announcing the final dance. Let’s not miss out.”

  Woodenly, she followed him back to the ballroom.

  “You certainly speak your mind,” Oliver said as he spun her about the floor. “I take it you don’t believe in slavery.”

  “It seems rather base and cruel,” she said, struggling to sort out her thoughts.

  “Father never would have owned slaves in England,” Oliver told her, “but we had such well-trained servants there. Good servants are hard to come by in New England. Mother plans to begin to purchase slaves and to train them herself. I’m not all that keen on the idea of slaves, either, but then I’m not home much anymore.”

  Whether Oliver approved or disapproved would make little difference to the young girl now sailing toward Massachusetts to become a slave in the Chilton household.

  The magical night was over, and Oliver and other of the young men thanked Maggie for her charming company. The flattery was exhilarating, unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  However, on the way home, thoughts of the ball faded, and her mind was filled with thoughts of a girl from Trinidad named Melee. Maggie wondered how she would feel if someone took her from home and family and forced her to live in a strange land. How terrible that would be.

  CHAPTER 10

  The Embarrassing Accident

  The cloaks for Sarah and Ann were finished the week before Christmas. They were of fawn-colored, tightly woven wool with soft flannel linings.

  “Father can deliver these on his next visit to Mrs. Cradock,” Maggie said as they folded each cloak neatly. Dr. Baldwin had reported that Sarah Cradock was slowly regaining strength.

  “Why, Maggie Baldwin,” Hannah protested, “this was all your idea. You should be the one to deliver them. It’s not your father’s place to do so.”

  The thought of going back to the dirty room had never occurred to Maggie. She wanted to help in some way, but going back there had not been part of her plan. “We could send Evan in the sleigh,” she ventured.

  “Evan may very well drive the sleigh, but you should be in it.” Hannah was right, of course, as she always was, and in the end Maggie reluctantly agreed.

  “We can take a loaf of bread, a piece of salt pork, and a few vegetables from the root cellar,” Hannah suggested. “What do you think?”

  “That’s a fine idea,” Maggie agreed, getting a bit excited. “A little food would be a great blessing to the two of them. I’ll go to the cellar if you’ll prepare the hamper.”

  In the end, it was Father who took them to the Cradocks’. “I have a call to make near there,” he told them. “I’ll drop you off.”

  The air was cold enough to form little clouds of vapor as they talked while loading the sleigh in the dooryard. Gray clouds hung low in the sky, threatening more snow.

  “I want you to know I think this is a commendable thing you’re doing, Maggie,” her father told her after they were on their way. “The Lord will bless you for reaching out to another.”

  “It’s not much,” she said, still wondering if it had been all that good of an idea.

  “What a better world this would be if everyone did just a little,” Hannah said.

  Maggie hadn’t thought of it like that before.

  Father drove the sleigh down the crooked street and into the narrow alleyway. In the daylight and covered with layers of white powdery snow, the place didn’t appear as threatening as the first time Maggie had seen it.

  She carried the folded cloaks, and Hannah took the hamper. “I’ll return for you in about half an hour,” Father said as he drove off.

  Ann answered their knock at the door with a look of surprise on her face. “You came back,” she said to Maggie.

  “Yes, I … I mean, we—this is Hannah Pierce, Ann. We’ve brought you some—”

  “Christmas gifts,” Hannah finished the sentence.

  “That’s right,” Maggie agreed. “Christmas gifts.”

  Ann gave a little squeal. “Mother, did you hear that? Christmas gifts!” Ann opened the door wide to let them in and closed it behind them. The room was dim and close. The low fire in the small fireplace was doing little to ward off the cold.

  “You may light the candle for our guests, Ann,” Mrs. Cradock said from her bed. With some effort, she was able to sit up.

  Ann ran to get the candle and lit it with a spark from the fire. Meanwhile, Maggie introduced Hannah to Mrs. Cradock. The little candle was set on the table, chasing away the late afternoon darkness. It was then that Maggie unfolded the cloaks to show them. She was overwhelmed at the expression of pure joy on Ann’s face at the sight of her new cloak.

  “For me?” she whispered.

  “For you,” Maggie said, “with God’s blessings.” She draped the cloak around the girl’s small shoulders, giving her a gentle pat as she did so.

  Ann pulled the cloak close about her. She put up the hood, then took it down again, put it up and took it down again. “It’s lovely,” she whispered. “Thank you so much. I shall never be so cold ever again. Mother, try yours. Please stand up and try on your cloak.”

  “I believe I’ll do just that, Ann.” Mrs. Cradock struggled to stand and allowed Hannah to place her new cloak about her. Reverently, she caressed the deep folds. “I can’t remember when I’ve ever had anything so nice,” she said to them. “It’s been many, many years.” Tears brimmed in her red-rimmed eyes. “I don’t know what to say except a simple thank-you.”

  “We have brought bread, as well,” Maggie said, emptying out the hamper and placing the foodstuffs on the table. “And a few vegetables.”

  “We can have a stew for Christmas!” Mrs. Cradock said, taking halting steps from the cot to the table. A new brightness glowed in her eyes.

  A tapping on the door signaled Father’s return. Ann ran to let him in. “Just look, Dr. Baldwin!” She whirled about. “Maggie gave me a new cloak.”

  “That she did, Ann. Merry Christmas! And Mrs. Cradock, how good to see you on your feet.”

  “The gifts from your household are so appreciated, sir,” Mrs. Cradock said.

  “The gifts appear to be better medicine than anything I could do as a doctor,” Maggie’s father said.

  As they were preparing to leave, Ann ran to Maggie and gave her a hug. “Thank you, thank you, Maggie.” To Maggie’s own surprise, she returned the little girl’s hug.

  As they rode home with sleigh bells ringing, the snow sifted down thickly about them. Maggie settled back in the slei
gh, weighted down beneath the heavy lap blankets, content to listen to the swishing of the runners through the snow. She didn’t want to talk. Somehow she longed to capture this deep, contented sensation and hold it forever.

  Maggie and Hannah attempted to decorate their dining room as beautifully as the Chiltons’ home had been for the ball. It was the day before Christmas, and Father was still out on calls. Colder weather always meant more illnesses, and that kept him away from home more.

  “We may not have money for yards and yards of ribbon,”

  Hannah was saying, “but we have bits and pieces.” “And plenty of greenery,” Maggie added. Even Caleb and Evan joined in the fun. Since Evan was taller, he could stand on a chair or the sideboard and reach higher. Caleb cut the boughs and tied them together. The fragrance of pine and cedar floated through the dining room as they worked. Hannah had cleaned the parlor, and on Christmas morning all the guests would gather there to exchange gifts.

  When the decorating was finished, Hannah rewarded them with a piece of her wonderful Marlborough-pudding pie. Maggie decided that Hannah must be in a rare mood, since she never allowed this most special pie to be cut until Christmas Day. Maggie savored the tart lemon flavor as they ate together.

  Thankfully, Father arrived home in time to eat a piece of the pie, as well. They spent the evening in Father’s cozy study, reading scriptures until time for bed.

  Christmas morning pulsated with excitement. There were still the usual chores to do and more fires to lay since the parlor and dining room were to be heated. The snow had stopped falling, and bright sunshine sparkled on the fresh white drifts.

  Uncle Reuben and Aunt Lucille came loaded with special gifts for everyone. They even brought gifts for the Pierce boys. Soon, the house was filled with laughter, happy conversation, and the shouts and giggles of the children.

  Although Hannah didn’t cook nearly as much on Christmas as she did on Thanksgiving, there was still much to eat. It’s more food than the Cradocks will have, Maggie thought as she surveyed the table.