American Dream

by Colleen L. Reece

  The sensation wasn’t due to the other girls. On the contrary, Adelaide and Celia had gone out of their way to be kind and thoughtful. And Oliver—well, Oliver had been more than kind. Visions of his blue eyes and kind smile would pop into her mind at the most inopportune times.

  To her surprise, her father was agreeable to the trip to Salem and gave his permission for her to go. “I believe it would be a maturing experience for you to travel and meet new people,” he said.

  “But my clothes,” Maggie started to protest. She was sure Celia and Adelaide would take a trunkful of dresses.

  “And I don’t believe a couple of new dresses would be out of the question,” he went on to say. “More of my patients have paid in money this year,” he told her. “It’s been a good winter.”

  Maggie wasn’t sure what to say. His willingness was a nice surprise. Even Hannah took on some of the air of excitement. Caleb didn’t think it was fair at all since he’d always wanted to ride in a stagecoach. Evan was somewhat noncommittal about the entire thing but did ask if Oliver would be going along.

  “Well, of course not,” Maggie said quickly. “Oliver is back at school and will be there until the term is over in the spring.”

  Her brother seemed relieved at this bit of news.

  Maggie spent several hours each day reading the book Oliver gave her. The arguments set down in the book seemed sound enough, but, strangely, it did nothing to quiet the confusion churning about inside her.

  When she finished reading it, she offered the book to Evan to read. “I shouldn’t wonder that Oliver would give you such a book,” he commented.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “He’s a Harvard man. As I understand it, all the Harvard professors are up in arms about the matter. Frankly, I’m weary of the controversy. I wish it would all die down. Even Uncle Reuben is cynical about the ‘awakening’ as they call it. If it’s all right with you, I’d just as soon not read the book.”

  The little outburst was quite unlike Evan, who was usually reserved. But Maggie agreed with him. She wished all the arguments and bickering would just go away.

  In the days following, Hannah and Maggie were kept busy sewing the gowns for Maggie’s upcoming trip. With every passing day, she grew more excited. The subject was on the girls’ lips every Thursday afternoon as they enjoyed their grand tea party after instruction time.

  Melee’s skills at serving were becoming more polished as Adelaide worked hard to train her. To Maggie, she appeared quite graceful, but Adelaide continued to call her “clumsy oaf” and “fumblefingers.” Whether or not Melee could understand the words, there was no mistaking Adelaide’s tone of voice and expression of displeasure. Maggie believed that a touch of kindness would be more effective, but then what did she know about training slaves?

  “You should have seen Melee’s amazement at the snow,” Adelaide said with a giggle. “She looked up into the sky, crying ‘Magic! Magic!’ She thought the snowfall was magic. Isn’t that a fright?”

  “Perhaps if we’d never seen snow before, we might also think it was magic,” Maggie said.

  “Perhaps,” Adelaide said, “but with the intelligence we have, I doubt it. The worst is that she can never get warm. She wants to go about with a blanket wrapped around her. She seems to be cold all the time.”

  “After living in Trinidad, I don’t wonder,” Celia said. “My father says it’s balmy there and just like a mild summer all the time, with brilliant-colored flowers everywhere. Too bad she couldn’t have come in summer to give her time to grow accustomed to the weather change.”

  “But she was my Christmas gift, you ninny,” countered Adelaide. “Christmas doesn’t come in the summer”—a comment that set them to giggling again.

  Maggie would have liked to have asked Melee about her home in Trinidad, but Adelaide had instructed her friends that they were only to speak to Melee when they had an order to give.

  Throughout the frigid days of January, Maggie and Hannah paid periodic visits to the Cradock home to check on them. With each visit, they took a few things with them—a blanket or a bit of food—for which Mrs. Cradock and Ann were always extremely grateful. Maggie couldn’t explain the wonderful feeling she received from seeing Mrs. Cradock slowly regain her strength. She also couldn’t explain why it was one thing she never shared with Celia and Adelaide, even though they had become her close friends.

  The trip to Salem was planned for late February. The week before departure, Maggie suggested to Hannah that they pay a visit to the Cradocks before she left on her trip. Hannah never had to be asked twice.

  When Ann answered their tapping on the door of the small alleyway room, Maggie received a stunning shock. There was a smiling, beaming Mrs. Cradock, hard at work scrubbing and cleaning the tiny room. One of the wooden shutters was thrown open, and fresh air filtered in along with the soft winter sunlight.

  The straw tick had been emptied and aired and lay waiting for clean straw to be stuffed back inside. Clutter had been picked up, and the wooden floor was scrubbed.

  Mrs. Cradock’s face was wreathed in a warm smile as she came to the door with her hand outstretched. “Welcome, welcome, ladies. Please come in.”

  “You’re so much better,” Maggie managed to say. She looked over at Hannah. She, too, was speechless, but she smiled at the sight.

  “I am better than you will ever know,” Mrs. Cradock said. “Please sit down. She pulled out the crudely made wooden chairs from the small table. Hannah set the hamper on the table and sat down.

  “Something’s happened to you!” Hannah smiled as though she had been let in on a big secret.

  “My brother took Ann and me to a revival meeting last week. And now I know God loves me and that Jesus died to take away my sins.”

  There was no denying the change in this lady’s countenance, and her voice fairly bubbled over with joy and excitement. Maggie had never seen anything like it.

  “We gathered together in a large barn near Roxbury. A barn! Can you imagine? But then, I’m not welcome inside a real church.” She touched her hands to her cheeks and laughed aloud. “The place was so crowded there was barely room to stand.”

  “Who preached the sermon?” Hannah asked. “The Reverend Jonathan Edwards.”

  “Yes, yes, the Reverend Edwards is one of the best,” Hannah said. Maggie wondered how Hannah would know.

  “He made the plan of salvation so clear and simple, even a child …” Mrs. Cradock stopped and looked at Ann. “Even my little Ann understood. Didn’t you, Ann?”

  Ann ducked her head as she nodded. Mrs. Cradock stepped to her daughter’s side and put her arms around her. “Knowing that God loves us, truly loves us, has changed everything. I feel so clean on the inside, I wanted my place to be clean, as well.”

  “God’s love can surely do that,” Hannah agreed.

  Mrs. Cradock went on to tell them that she’d been out inquiring for a place of employment and had been hired by the grocer on the next street. “I want to make a better life for Ann and me.”

  Throughout the visit, Maggie barely uttered a word. She was too astonished. How could this sinner have favor with God? It made no sense and certainly was different from anything she’d ever heard preached. Later, as she and Hannah walked to her father’s shop, she asked Hannah about it.

  “The scriptures are quite clear, Maggie, that salvation is a gift, free to anyone who believes.”

  “But Mrs. Cradock has never done anything for the Lord’s work. She doesn’t even attend church, and she has lived a life of sin.”

  “We’re not born into God’s kingdom according to our works, Maggie. One cannot work for a free gift.”

  Maggie had been in church all her life, and she’d never before thought of salvation as a gift from God. “But what about this Jonathan Edwards—how do you know about him?”

  “I’ve attended his meetings with Ben and the family,” Hannah replied.

  This calm announcement surprised Maggie.
Her own nanny. Of course, her family never asked what Hannah did on her days off, but she could at least have told about such a radical thing as following the revivalists.

  The next week was a flurry of excitement as Hannah helped Maggie pack her trunk for the trip. The lovely new dresses were folded and laid in the trunk with great care, along with her embroidered bodices and quilted petticoats.

  The late February thaw served to open the roads to Salem, and the stagecoach had been running for a week or more. The night before she was to leave, Maggie could hardly sleep. Father was out late on calls, and Maggie never liked to fall asleep before he got home. When she heard the carriage drive into the back dooryard, she hurried downstairs to be in the kitchen waiting.

  After putting the horses away, Dr. Baldwin came through the door. “You’re up awfully late. Shouldn’t you be getting your rest for the long trip?”

  “I’m too excited to sleep.”

  “I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news for you,” her father said as he hung up his greatcoat. “I’ve been at the Winthrops’ this evening, and Celia has the grippe. She’ll not be able to make the trip.”

  Maggie felt her heart sink. What a disappointment for Celia. “Does the Chilton family know?” She poured two mugs of cider, and she offered him one.

  He nodded. “I drove by to inform them before coming home.” He took a deep drink of the cider. “It looks as though it will just be you and Adelaide and her footman as your chaperone.”

  “And the girl, Melee.”

  “Oh yes,” Dr. Baldwin said dryly, “the little slave girl.” Maggie could tell her father didn’t think much more of the situation than she did. But there was nothing anyone could do.

  She finished her cider, kissed her father good night, and went back to her bed. But sleep was awhile in coming. She’d never been away from home before. This would be a true adventure.

  The Chiltons came for Maggie the next morning in their large carriage, which served to hold the girls’ large trunks on the top. Maggie nervously bid farewell to her family, fighting to keep back tears. She didn’t want Adelaide to think she was reluctant to leave. From there they took the ferry to the Pine Tree Tavern in Charlestown, where the girls would board the stagecoach to Salem.

  If Maggie was nervous, Melee was even more so. Maggie could sense the girl’s fear at yet another change. Melee’s cheeks were more sunken than before, causing Maggie to wonder if the girl was being fed properly. The New England winter had obviously been harsh for one who was accustomed to tropical breezes.

  A roaring fire blazed in the fireplace of the large common room inside the inn. The tall mahogany clock in the corner chimed seven o’clock. The agent informed them that the coach had arrived and fresh horses were being harnessed. While Adelaide and Melee sat down before the fire and Lucas went to the agent’s desk to pay the fares, Pert took Maggie aside.

  “Don’t forget what I told you,” Pert said softly. “Remember to think like a lady at all times.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I will,” Maggie promised.

  “Keep in mind these are our dear friends up there in Salem, and you’ll want to make the best impression possible.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Maggie repeated. She certainly didn’t want to disappoint Pert Chilton.

  Just then the agent called out, “The Lightning Stage Line now departing for Salem. All passengers assemble!”

  There were only the four of them boarding, for which Maggie was thankful. As Johnson helped her up, the coachman had already mounted his box and was blowing the long brass coach horn. With a loud crack of his leather whip, they were under way. Maggie could hardly contain her excitement!

  CHAPTER 13

  The Never-Ending Party

  Unlike the smooth ride in the Chilton carriage, the stagecoach bounced and lurched about over the deeply rutted roadway. The coachman shouted at the team and snapped his whip continually until even Johnson, who was seated beside Maggie, was forced to hang on for dear life. Adelaide, with Melee by her side, sat across from Maggie.

  In spite of the cold air, Maggie was determined to peek out around the rolled-down leather curtains to see everything she could. She enjoyed watching the farmlands and the villages whizzing by. The speed at which they were moving would certainly impress both her brothers.

  Adelaide, on the other hand, had seen these sights many times, and she wanted to talk. She told Maggie about the Drury family at whose home they would lodge.

  “Nelda is the older sister,” Adelaide explained. “She’s almost fifteen, but don’t expect to talk much to Nelda. Her nose is continually in a book. She’s read nearly every book in her father’s library. Her mother scolds her to make her come out and enjoy fun and laughter with Julia and me. Julia’s thirteen,” she said, taking a breath.

  “Sometimes we hide her book to get her to dance with us. Of course, she can always go find a new one again, but it’s great fun to watch her searching high and low for the one we’ve hidden.” Adelaide laughed at the happy memories, making Maggie eager to meet these two sisters.

  “Melee!” Adelaide said sharply. “Sit up, girl!”

  Melee, with her cloak wrapped tightly around her, had laid her head back on the leather cushion of the seat. The girl jumped.

  “You should be paying attention to all that I say, Melee, so you’ll know what is expected of you in Salem. This girl,” Adelaide said to Maggie, “is turning out to be no bargain at all. For the high price my father paid, you would think I would get more response out of her.”

  “But she looks ill,” Maggie said. “Melee, do you feel all right?” Maggie started to reach out and feel the girl’s forehead, but Adelaide grabbed at her wrist.

  “Never pamper a slave, Maggie. If you do, they become like spoiled children. If that happens, I will be doing everything for her rather than the other way around.”

  Adelaide’s comment made little sense. How could the girl do anything if she were ill all the time? But Maggie kept still. After all, she’d promised Pert she’d not be an embarrassment to them.

  Presently, the clear notes sounded from the coachman’s brass horn, announcing their arrival at the upcoming stop. Maggie rolled up the leather curtain so she could see better. This tavern was much larger than any she’d seen before, with a wide front porch, an overhanging second story, and large stables out back. The swinging sign hanging from a porch post read BOGART’s INN. As they drew to a stop, the stable boys ran toward the coach to change out the team of horses.

  “Right on time,” the coachman boasted as he pulled his gold watch from his vest pocket. “Step smartly now. Lunch will be only fifteen minutes.”

  Inside the common room, the large table was set with several places. A wooden sign on the wall listed the selections. Johnson took Melee to sit at the far end of the table. They all ordered beef stew and ate quickly, knowing their stay was short. Maggie noticed that Melee barely ate at all.

  When they were under way again, Melee stared vacantly out the window. As the coach continued to lurch about, she looked more and more ill. Suddenly Melee gave a little cry, and holding her handkerchief to her face, she threw up right there in the coach.

  Johnson fumbled about, attempting to bring a bottle of water from the small hamper Pert had packed for them. Adelaide was furious and spouted angry words at Melee.

  “Getting angry won’t help,” Maggie said to Adelaide. She took the water from Johnson and wet her own handkerchief to lay on the girl’s hot brow.

  Johnson willingly scooted over and let Maggie sit across from Melee. “I’m not much good at nursing,” he said.

  The smells made Maggie’s stomach do strange things, but she knew the girl needed help. Melee gave another little groan as Maggie patted the cool cloth on her face. “Sick. Melee be awful sick. Like on ship.”

  “Pour a little water in one of the cups,” Maggie told Johnson. As carefully as she could in the bouncing coach, she was able to give Melee little sips. “You were sick on the ship coming to Boston?” M
aggie asked.

  “Terrible sick,” Melee answered.

  “Wouldn’t you know it?” Adelaide said in disgust. “I have to have a slave who gets seasick on a little coach ride. Such terrible luck I have.”

  Toward afternoon, the coach pulled to a stop at yet another tavern for a change of horses. Finally, Melee could rest a bit and get cleaned up. The smell, however, permeated the coach, and Adelaide continued to complain about it. Throughout the remainder of the journey, Melee seemed to rally some.

  They arrived in Salem after dark, but the Brazen Head Inn was alive with lights, carriages, and people milling about. To Maggie’s surprise, this entourage was a welcome party for them!

  They were met with a noisy volley of greetings and clusters of people crowding about. Maggie had never seen such a jovial group. Laughter and shouts rang out as the trunks were transferred from the stagecoach to the waiting carriages. Introductions were made, and Maggie met Julia, Nelda, their parents, and dozens of other people whose names she would never remember.

  The four girls were escorted to the same carriage, and, after giving them a hand up, Johnson climbed up to sit with the driver. Melee was escorted to another carriage by one of the Drurys’ black slaves.

  In answer to the sisters’ questions, Adelaide explained about Celia falling ill and being unable to come along. Julia and Nelda expressed their sympathy toward Celia, even though they’d never met her.

  Had there been no introductions, Maggie could have told the Drury sisters apart. Although they favored one another with their fair complexion and blue eyes, Julia’s eyes were full of mischief, and Nelda’s expression was gentler and quieter. They both sported curled, powdered wigs piled high with dainty curls.

  “Adelaide writes to us that your father is a doctor in Boston,” Nelda was saying. “I’ve read a great deal about medicine and find it quite fascinating.”