Hey,
So, you might have noticed that I'm updating sporadically. In August my dad got a new kidney and he's been in and out of the hosptial with complications. He's in the 'in' stage. Life is punching me in the face right now. Hopefully everyone understands.
It took exactly ten minutes to explain to Mrs. Abigail Adams what had happened and why they were there. It took another forty-five for everything to be straightened out otherwise. To her credit, the woman seemed unflappably practical. Introductions were made quickly.
"Moses never informed me that he was not planning on sending you." she said to the three children sitting in her parlor. It was not the most relaxing of functions. James sat with his hands in his lap looking nervously at the unfamiliar setting. Henri was, as usual, waiting for something more fun to happen, and Sarah, who would be the most comfortable in such a place, alternated coughing fits and attempting to communicate proper behavior to James and Henri through glares. "I assumed you were simply later then expected." she spoke a few words to the dark-haired maid who had let them in, and she left the room.
"I have children of my own." she said, "Three sons and a daughter. I hope it isn't too crowded for either of you." she said, speaking to James and Henri.
They shook their heads and she continued. "Then I believe it would be best for James and Henri to stay with the boys and for Sarah to stay with Abigail." there was not much further discussion on accommodations. Mrs. Adams wanted to know if anything interesting was happening in Philadelphia, the children wanted to know if anything interesting had happened in Boston.
Henri interrupted James halfway through. "I'm hungry." he complained. Sarah coughed, then glared at him. Mrs. Adams smiled.
"I'll see what I can do."
Despite the fact that the children had no luggage, Mrs. Adams soon after gave them leave for their rooms, unsurprising as they had walked a long distance in less than a week, and the children went their separate ways. Well, James and Henri stayed together. Sarah wasn't with them. She found the room easily enough and sat down on a chair, wondering if that was how it would always be—them as patriots, her as a loyalist—them as boys and her as a girl, even. She coughed.
"Oh, you're already in here." Sarah turned around at the surprised voice in the doorway. A little girl with fair hair entered the room, shorter than Sarah. "My name is Abigail, but so is my Mother's. Everyone calls me Nabby." she dipped down in a curtsey for a moment, the picture of deportment.
"My name is Sarah Phillips." Sarah introduced herself, standing up to curtsey as well—since she was an example, the hard sort where you didn't hold onto your skirts. Nabby crossed the room to supervise the re-tying of her own sash in the mirror before sitting down on the other side of the bed and scrutinizing Sarah.
"You're from England, aren't you?"
Sarah nodded. Nabby turned her head.
"Did you really walk from Philadelphia to hide from British soldiers?"
She nodded again.
"Mother would never let me walk anywhere on my own, especially now with all the soldiers about." Nabby said, a bit wistfully. Sarah coughed.
"Well, mine didn't give permission."
"Did you run away?" Nabby's eyes got big. "Does she know where you are?"
"No. She lives in England still." both girls were a bit quiet after this admission.
Finally Nabby said, "I don't think I would like it if my mother lived in England, but I don't like lots of things. She says I might understand when I'm older. I'm nine, and I'm the oldest of all my brothers."
Sarah smiled. Nabby reminded her of her youngest cousin, Georgina. "Well, thank you for letting me share your room...Nabby." when the little girl showed no objection to using this nickname she continued. "How old are your brothers?"
"Um..." Nabby scrunched her face up, thinking. "Charles is four and John is...seven, and Thomas is one. But his birthday will be soon. I have to watch them all the time because we have no Nurse. It's just us, and Laura." Sarah assumed this was the titan maid. Nabby leaned forward. "Did you hear about the destruction of the tea? Mother wouldn't let us outside for weeks."
"Yes, I...heard about it." said Sarah. She coughed and her hands went to her locket.
"The British soldiers won't let anything get through anymore. Mother is angry about that. She says it's not their right. Laura is angry too, but that's because she's running out of flour and can't buy more. She's from Ireland, you know, and she has fourteen brothers and sisters. Are you a patriot? My mother and father are patriots, and my father is in Philadelphia, like you. Mother says he is doing important work for America. Sometimes I write to him. My mother helps me to."
"Hmmm." said Sarah absently, attempting to ignore the younger girl's question of loyalties. Soon, however, the interrogation subsided when Nabby found more revelry in cutting up a dress design book with the intent of pasting fabric onto the dresses. Sarah and her cousins had been mildly interested in the craft a few years ago. But at the moment, she had another activity on her mind.
"Nabby, do you have any paper?" she asked. After being directed to the chest on the far side of the room, she sat down and began her long-overdue letter to her mother.
March 3, 1774
Dear Mother,
There is much to tell you in this letter. Almost a week ago, James, Henri, and I were subject to Trouble from our very own British soldiers. Apparently, because of Dr. Franklin's Thoughts on the New World, we were to be arrested! We were forced to walk to another Residence in another Colony. Needless to say I am disappointed with His Majesty's Army at the Moment, excluding Father and Tom, of course.
I am writing this Letter in the House of the Wife of one of Dr. Franklin's Friends—a Patriot, Mr. John Adams. We have been very kindly taken in by her until the entire dreadful Business with Dr. Franklin can be resolved, hopefully for the better. I am unharmed in this whole Ordeal. Thankfully the Weather has warmed up a little and we were not walking through Snow the whole Way. Right now the Weather feels like London but colder.
It is imperative, for everyone's safety, that Dr. Franklin be pardoned as soon as possible. You say you cannot visit him or send a Letter, but surely there must be something you can do? I worry for him. What sort of Evidence do they have against him, besides his Writings?
Mother, I wish you were with me so that I could ask your Advice.
Sarah bit her lip and touched one finger to the hiding place of the letter, feeling the paper underneath the fabric of her sleeve. For once in her life she didn't feel like telling her mother everything.
James and Henri are doing alright as well. We have not heard from Moses since we left Philadelphia, however. I pray he comes to no harm. Should you get a chance to talk to Dr. Franklin please assure him that we are all well and hoping for his safe return to America.
I still have not heard a Word from Father. While writing the Date on today's Letter I realized that I have been in the Colonies almost four Months. I shall almost certainly not hear from him until after Easter. It is terribly frustrating.
Mother, my cousins, who promised to endeavor to write to me every Day, have barely written since December. I have not received a letter from them in months. Are they alrigh t? What has happened?
I will probably not hear from you again until after I return to Philadelphia, but I have not sent you a Letter in many Days and did not want you to worry.
Your loving daughter,
Sarah