Hester Prynne, born of a short-lived love affair between a British smith and the daughter of a French noble, shivered as she stepped off of the English trade ship Bristol. It was a cold night in the small village of Providence, located in the Colony of Massachusetts, and when it got cold in New England, it got cold.
Hester purported to be married to a scholar more than twice her age, known only as Mr. Prynne. He was well renowned for his writings back in England, and possessed a sizeable amount of green earth as meed for his academic accomplishments.
At first glance of this remarkable woman, one would not think she would be married to one so in depth in the realm of the book, for she was not something to be an object of scorn, or noses wrinkled. Nay, in fact, she was quite beautiful, possessing a luxurious hair of a rich dark brown that was further vivified by her deep, blue eyes. Her face was soft and almost childlike, free of the scars of ugliness that marked the common person. Had she lived today, she would undoubtedly be a supermodel. Because of these physical characteristics, and an innate intellect and strength, one would not think she would be ensnared by the bounds of wedlock.
Hester Prynne shivered again and tightened up the fur jacket as she walked from the harbor. She was followed by several sailors lugging her baggage, the result of her husband wishing to move over to this great New World. She was sent ahead whilst Mr. Prynne tided up affairs regarding the Prynne Estate and the English newspapers and scientific communities.
Waiting for her was a horse-drawn carriage and a bored-looking sailor from the Bristol who had decided to help the passengers for a few extra shillings to add to his meager emolument. The sailor, out of the corner of his eye, noticed the beautiful Hester approach. He was instantly captivated by the spell cast by her physique, and eagerly, he hopped off from his post, rushing over to help the young woman who was struggling with her heavy load. "Allow me to help ye there, lassie," the sailor said with a Scottish accent, looking her over.
Hester Prynne graciously accepted the aid, and noticed him scan her. "I am married," she said simply. The shoulders of the sailor fell slightly, and with reluctant sagacity, he took the luggage and loaded it into the carriage.
"Where ye be goin'?"
Hester pulled out a scrap of parchment from her jacket and took a few moments to read it over. Confused by the complexity of the street address, she simply handed the scrap to the sailor. He took it, scanned it, and after a moment nodded back to her, a weak grin appearing on his bearded visage.
"Aye, I know where ye be headed. Get in, lass."
Hester Prynne hesitated for a moment, suspicious of his motives, but complied. The sailor whipped the horses into action and the carriage descended from the dock and into the misty town. Passing through the town square, Hester noticed a large scaffold in the center. She shivered in fear as she looked at the scaffold, feeling something ominous in the back of her mind. The sailor looked back at Hester, and noticed the change in her powerful mien.
"Ye alright, lassie?" he asked.
Hester looked away from the scaffold, and at the bearded man, feeling her inner strength rising. "Yes," she said, and that was that. A few minutes later, the carriage stopped at a house located between the town church and a prison, where a wild rosebush was growing in front.
Hester Prynne thanked the sailor as he helped her unload her bags and take them into her house. She gave him a few coins and he tipped off his hat and bade her a goodnight. She closed the door to her house, shivered, and quickly placed some logs in the fireplace and attempted to light them up. It was so cold that at first, the matches refused to light up, but after a few rough strokes (and broken matches), she got a few to burn. She threw them into the fireplace, and watched for a moment as the kindling ignited.
Hester thought about her life with Mr. Prynne back in Old England. She did enjoy her marriage, in spite of the fact that it was arranged by Hester's mother and Prynne himself, and that she was a little bit less than half his age. Regardless of all of this, Hester found that she still loved Roger Prynne. She expected him to arrive within a few months….
The fire had been burning for a few minutes, and the warmth it generated now filled the once-cold room. Hester decided she should check out the house, but the call of the fire, its warmth and crackling logs, and the strain of the long voyage hypnotized her, and she fell into a deep sleep in a comfortable chair by the fireplace.
---
Dawn came a little too early for Hester Prynne, at least, by Puritan standards- it was dawn. The sun's rays had barely touched the roof of the thatch house before the bell rang out loudly in the community church that was neighboring Hester's home. Hester awoke with a start, but after a few brief moments, realized that it was only the call to morning Mass. The last of the flames had died down as the sunlight filled into the room.
Hester Prynne, being a very religious person (otherwise she wouldn't be here in the town of Providence) got up and looked through her still-unpacked luggage for the amenities she would be needing to prepare for the day. A few minutes later, she appeared socially acceptable and left her house to join the sea of Puritans now flowing into the Church.
The venerable Reverend Mr. Wilson, the community's eldest and most respectable preacher was at the pulpit and motioned for everyone to quiet down and sit. The people expected, as always, for the preacher to immediately leap into a lengthy sermon, but to their astonishment, he stepped down from the pulpit, and motioned for a young lad who was sitting in the very first pew, clad in the garments of one belonging to the upper levels of the religious establishment of the Massachusetts.
He introduced the young man as the Reverend Mr. Arthur Dimmesdale, a former acolyte, who had recently committed himself fully to God, and felt that he could do His work best in this small community. The townspeople greeted him, and he returned the greeting with a deep voice, yet rich and soft. At that moment in time, Hester Prynne felt something in her heart stir, an emotion she had not felt in many, many years.
She looked up into Dimmesdale's eyes, who looked back directly at her beautiful eyes of blue. Her heart jumped as a warm smile slightly developed on his lips, but aware of the presence of all these people, he nodded at the entire congregation, and let his small grin blossom into a full smile. He took his place at the pulpit and opened up the mass service with the sermon that everyone had expected Reverend Wilson to deliver.
Hester Prynne was immediately captivated by the handsome young minister, by every little aspect of his character. Although she had never personally heard a sermon by Mr. Wilson, judging by the commotion and whispering of her fellow Puritans, she assumed correctly that the sermons of Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale were more heartfelt, but less divine than those of the other, more venerable man.
A great mentor of hers when she was growing up in France once said, "With age comes wisdom. With youth comes rashness and emotion." Hester Prynne stopped herself from falling into the trap any further. What her heart wanted was a sin, as she was a married woman. Forget this man, she thought, although a man of God, he will be nothing but trouble, Hester.
And so she headed the instruction of her consciousness and sat in the golden sunlight that shined down and struck her at her seat in the congregation, feeling discontent spring from her heart at the truth of the matter.
---
A couple of years went by, and still Hester had heard no word from her husband regarding the affairs of home, or when he would be arriving. As Hester waited for Roger to arrive, she became integrated into the community, making friends, and meeting acquaintances. A few old friends from her childhood days had come with her on her voyage, and she saw them daily. The conversations and stories she had with them brought back memories of the times, both good and bad.
Every day, she would go to Church as was socially expected and listened to Arthur Dimmesdale preach. With each passing day, she became more and more captivated by his personality, and it became harder and harder to resist his spell.
After one Sunday service, he came down from his pulpit as the congregation filed out of the Church, praising his words and discussing the content amongst themselves. He caught Hester before she was able to leave the Church and get back to the sanctity of the sunlight and her home. He grinned with that warm and soothing smile of his. A shade of red had crossed over his face.
"Hello," said he. "I notice that you are new to the community. You are Hester Prynne, correct?"
Hester looked him over, and looked at his open hands in disgust. "Away with ye, foul tempter. Ye weareth the cloth of a clergyman, and preach the word of God, but secretly, inside, you are nothing more than a demon. I sense what evil deeds thou art trying to accomplish. Yes, I am Mrs. Hester Prynne! "
Hester walked out of the Church and into the sunlight, feeling the dreariness and pain of the clergyman as he gripped his heart, as if it were made of pure glass, and she had taken a hammer and smashed it into tiny pieces. A part of her, that which hide in the darkness of her heart, stewing in its fiery passion, felt remorse for her actions. The rest of her, the part that had become a welcome addition to the townspeople, simply held it's invisible nose high in the air.
She was so furious at his attempt to woo her (her heart said something else, and that she did not have to be so defensive, but her mind ignored its words as she continued conversing with the shadow of what she really felt), and by his reaction and partially hers that she flung herself into her chair by the fireplace, which had for the past couple of years served as a makeshift bed. For some reason or another, she simply did not wish to sleep in her bed until her true love, her husband, had arrived and greeted her with the warmth that they shared in their estate in the Old World. In a matter of moments, she fell asleep, the sun still sparkling in the brilliant blue sky.
---
The next day at the Church, the Governor Bellingham and Reverend Wilson had approached her, appearing quite somber. As Reverend Dimmesdale was in the middle of a passionate sermon about sin and its effects on the human mind and spirit, the two gentlemen of respectable status in the state approached the young wife.
"Mrs. Prynne," said the governor. "I come bearing news, news I would not wish to deliver to a pure maiden of Christ, as its contents are malicious."
Reverend Wilson bowed his head, and knelt next to Hester Prynne, and gripped her hand in comfort. Governor Bellingham pulled out a small scroll and recited it to Hester. "'To whom this letter may concern,'" said he, "'we regret to inform you that we of the Port of Providence have not received any word from the Her Majesty's Ship Diligence and presume the worst. This dispatch is to be given to the family members of each –if applicable- who died on the Diligence. Again, we of the Port of Providence give our deepest sympathies to those affected.'" Governor Bellingham finished reading from the scroll, rolled it up, and handed it to Hester, whose hands had to be pried open by Mr. Wilson to receive the brown parchment. Bellingham placed the dispatch into Hester's hands, and she looked at it blankly.
Hester noticed that at that moment, Dimmesdale's sermon had stopped –nay, had been interrupted- by this sorrowful news, and his eyes and those of the congregation all looked at her in sympathy. As Hester came out of her dreadful trance, she looked around the entire room, and even in the eyes of the two elderly gentlemen who had given her the news, the only true concern and sympathy for Hester's well-being came from the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale.
The two venerable men of state proceeded out of the Church, nodding to each of the Puritans as they passed out of the place of worship to attend to governmental concerns. Dimmesdale conclude his sermon with a few last words, and the service ended. The Puritans all got up and left the Church in the orderly manner they were accustomed to, but not before they stopped in front of Hester Prynne and paid their respects to her.
As the last Puritan filed out of the Church, Hester Prynne, able to hide in the dark corridors of the holy monument, began to cry. She cried so hard and so heartfelt that the tears and mucus dribbled on the scroll. It was only after she was well into her sorrowful song that she realized that the Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale was still present in the Church.
Since the widow had discovered his presence, he decided to make his attentions and feelings known. He came over and sat down next to the young Frenchwoman, and clasped her soiled hands in his own. To her own amazement, now that the bonds of wedlock were broken, Hester Prynne took her hands from his, wrapped them around his neck, and placed her sobbing head on his bosom.
The remainder of that dreadful day passed swiftly from sorrow, to a night of romance. Arthur Dimmesdale took Hester Prynne back to his house a little across the street from Hester's home. Hester Prynne was still so in shock over the death of her beloved husband, that her mind was no longer in control, but her heart was. Emotion was the driving force of her true self, and that true self had come out from hiding in the shadows.
At first, Arthur Dimmesdale's purpose in bringing Hester over was a pure one: to bring her comfort. But he could tell in the sudden change in Hester's eyes of her current state. She did love Roger Prynne, but at the same time…she didn't. Hester Prynne had known only childlike infatuation, never truly experiencing love. She was certain –her heart told her so- that the energy that had empowered her for the past year was love.
Now the old Hester had died away in a moment of passion as her real persona found itself at last, and had the strength to break free from the old. This action only goes to show the real strength of the woman in a time of despots and strict control over the will of others by law and religion.
Arthur Dimmesdale had never experienced love for anyone except the Almighty… But he too felt a sudden change of mind, body, and soul. The influence of God was no longer around him, but that of the Devil, and sin, of temptation. But the evils of human nature were not the sole cause for this glorious passion that occurred between these two paramours, the heart was guiding them as well. They knew inside of them that there was an intangible link between them, and that its will was pure, regardless of the flesh encasing that link.
Hester Prynne fell asleep that night not in her leather chair in her lonely little house, but in the sweaty bed and arms of a man for whom she had developed great feelings, and not even society, or death, or anything that the world could throw at her would change her heart's true love. During the day, their relationship was solely that of a clergyman and, a member of his congregation. During the dusk hours after mass, that relationship shifted to that of two friends, and once the curtain of night blanketed over them, their mask and cloaks –figuratively and literally- came off at a moment of passion, love, and sin.
Little did the two know,the consequences of their actions. A matter of time later, Hester Prynne abruptly found out she was pregnant. That was it. Their relationship was thrown into a dark and deep grave as Hester Prynne was dragged from her home and placed in the Providence jail with the other heretics, sinners, and witches. There, she would spend the next year in the prison, slowly dreading the day when this mark of her sin and love, developing in her deepest and most sacred of places, came to fruition.
The summer was unbearably long and full of drought. The rosebush by the prison had closed up its buds, and died. Summer became winter, as Nature's and God's wrath descended from the Heavens and punished Hester Prynne for her adulterous acts. Life in the prison was miserable, as poor Hester had to spend her days and nights in the tiny cell that smelt of waste and death.
Many inmates died, which further added to the unbearable stench. The food and drink was awful, as nothing was able to grow in the harsh heat of the previous season, and Hester seriously wondered if the child that was developing in her womb would survive. To make the torture upon Hester's person even worse, she knew she would never be able to see Dimmesdale again, in or out of the heartless prison of rock and metal. The one love of her life, the one pearl of her existence was snatched out of her hands, and shoved inside of her in the form of the Sin Child inside of her.
Eventually, the punishments of Man and Nature ended. Spring had overtaken Old Man Winter, and everything flourished, especially the doubtful Puritans who expected their whole civilization to collapse literally overnight. A beautiful baby girl was born on the first day of the new season to Hester Prynne. The sin was no longer inside of her, but the shame of it all replaced it.
Hester was instructed to weave a token of her sin, a scarlet letter "A" as a sign of her heretical crimes and she would be forced to wear the shameful badge for the remainder of her existence on this Earth. And weave one she did -never before had such a piece of cloth carried so much pain, so much shame, so much sin, in such a masterfully-crafted object. Watching over here was the town beadle, and he opened the door to her cell and grabbed her forcefully as she finished the scarlet and gold "A", placed it upon her bosom, and took the little girl into her arms.
The iron prison door opened, and out came Hester Prynne, with a child in her arms as she was led past on looking Puritans; the scorn and disgust on their faces paled in comparison to the shame that was now lodged in Hester Prynne's bosom. Hester turned back to get one last glimpse of the prison that was the home of her pain, and to see the rosebush blossom as it gleamed in the sunlight.