by Dana Roquet
***
The port city of Le Havre was a bustling waterway to the sea, the major landing along the northwestern coast for foreign traders. The Seine’s mouth opened into the channel at this point and ships from every port around the world were anchored in the wide Baie de la Seine. The flags that flew above each vessel told of their origin and ports of call and from the distance, the gay colors made the waterfront look lovely and festive.
The sloop weaved in and out between great ships and lesser boats until they arrived at a dock and landed amid a throng of their own kind. Philippe leaned out and caught hold of the dock, pulling the boat along side, then tied the lines to cleats and held a hand out to the women, helping them up from the low vessel.
“Ladies, you may start to the inn if you like. I will see to your things. You simply walk straight up there.” He pointed to the cobblestone path leading up into the town. “The inn will be just before you as you crest the hill—Le Havre Inn. There is a large sign out front. You can’t miss it.” He grinned at Desiree and she favored him with a gleaming smile.
“Merci Philippe and you will see to our bags right away?” Bridgett asked, wanting to get the matter clear. She knew only too well that items would disappear from the waterfront quickly, if left unattended.
“Oui Bridgett. Right away.” He bobbed respectfully.
***
Starting up the path in search of the inn, Desiree’s attention scanned right and then left as she took in everything. She had visited Le Havre several times over the years but always more inland on the far side of the city. The smell of salt water, fish and overripe fruit mixed and mingled with a multitude of other odors, permeating everything. Peddlers of every description called out to them, attesting to the fine quality of their goods they displayed on small carts along the cobblestone road. Desiree resisted the temptation to look at bolts of bright satin and velvet materials. Her trunks were bulging with a new wardrobe that the seamstress in Rouen had worked feverishly to complete over the last two weeks, replacing many of the items lost in the fire. She could not possibly stuff another thing into her bags.
As they continued on, a small form seated beside a vendor cart caught Desiree’s attention. A little girl was crouched at the side of the road, her long blonde hair, tangled and tossed. Her hands, bare feet, clothes—were grimy and she was devouring a hard roll as if it were a grand feast. The peddler, seeing the upset in the women’s eyes, shooed the little urchin away. The little girl scuttled off down the street, only to take up her meal once more near another cart.
This occurrence abruptly reminded Desiree of Frances undeniable woes. Here at the waterfront, they could be seen more dramatically than in her hometown. Her eyes now swept the street, falling on several other young children with dirt-streaked faces and tattered clothing, walking aimlessly from cart to cart, looking for perhaps a lost coin or a scrap of food. Desiree had often heard her father and other men discussing the cause of the unrest in the country. Seeing these little children who seemed to suffer the most, she couldn’t help but curse good King Louie within her mind.
Louis XIV was driving France into a terrible state financially. They called him a puppet on a string, at least in private, for allowing his war minister Francois Michel le Tellier Louvois to persuade him into endeavors of war.
It had been a well-known fact that Monsieur Jean Baptiste Colbert, Frances’ financial advisor had been a major factor in the prosperity the French had become accustomed to over the years. After his much grieved death, times were becoming hard and although France had had its share of problems prior to his death, they were worsening now.
The Edict of Nantes had been retracted by Louie taking away the rights of the Huguenots or reformers as they were wont to call themselves and giving Louie the freedom to persecute them unjustly. And Louie had taken full advantage of that freedom for years now. Her own Aunt Colette had practiced that Protestant faith and in spite of Louie’s determination to wipe out the religion, she and Uncle Maurice had held fast to their religious beliefs and in the end, they had been forced to leave France several years ago, making the colonies their home—as had many others of that religious sect, subjected to persecution. Because of Louie and his obsessive, irrational hatred, France had lost many of its influential and prosperous businessmen. With their leaving, they had taken much of France’s wealth.
Since Colbert was no longer alive to look out for France or its interests, Louvois had wet Louie’s appetite to expand French borders. Some of the expeditions had failed and the people of France were the ones who suffered. Of course, King Louie had not. He had built a palace at Versailles on the outskirts of Paris and the elite of France were having a grand time, living extravagantly—adding much to the unrest and indebtedness of the French government.
Desiree watched two small boys, surely neither more than seven years, as they punched and clawed at one another over a scrap of bread crust found lying in the gutter.
“Poor little things.” She whispered, stopping across the road from them. “Mes Cheres come here. Come to me.” She coaxed, stooping down slightly until at their eye level and looking into their wide-eyed grimy faces.
The boys forgot about the precious crust, for the moment, which one held loosely within his hand and they looked with uncertainty at Desiree, then into each other’s eyes. Slowly they walked the few steps to stand before her.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, smiling gently, trying to ease their suspicions. The two small heads nodded in unison. Desiree removed her drawstring bag from her arm and reaching within, pulled out two coins, “One for each, but do not tell where you received them, eh? Do you understand?”
Again they nodded, holding out filthy little hands. Desiree placed a coin into each of their palms and they looked wide-eyed at the shiny money and grinned.
“Merci beautiful lady.” one said and together they rushed off down the road, clutching their treasures in tight little fists.
“We had best make haste my dear. We shall have a hundred of those children mobbing us at any moment, begging the same favor.” Bridgett said, scowling at Desiree and starting off with a stepped up pace.
“Nonsense Bridgett—they shall not tell!” It was only too true that with one kindness, you might find yourself overrun with street urchins, for there were many, but Desiree felt compelled to do what she could, when she could.
***
Arriving at the Le Havre Inn, they walked in the front entrance and just to the left of the front door entered the common room. Being early in the day, few patrons were about and the room appeared to be neat and tidy, despite its obvious state of disrepair.
A once exquisite mirror hung broken upon the wall behind the wooden counter and it looked as if possibly a heavy tankard or bottle had been thrown against it, leaving a hundred tiny cracks from the center out to its edges. Long tables, some with benches and others with chairs, were arranged in neat rows throughout the room and all were gnarled, cracked and splintered from abuse. A once stylish chandelier hung naked and broken overhead, not a single crystal adorning its pathetic skeleton. A middle-aged man with sparse brown hair and a wide girth stood behind the counter watching them take in their surroundings. Desiree smiled at him hesitantly.
“May I help you ladies? I am the proprietor of this— inn as it were.” His eyes flitted about the room as he stated this, a half smile playing upon his lips.
“We will be in need of a room for the next few days—but perhaps less.” Desiree stated.
“Oui ladies, I can accommodate you.” He nodded, dropping a much used linen cloth to the counter and with a waddling gait, leading the way while bidding the two to follow.
They climbed a flight of stairs to the second story, starting down a hall that was dingy, with the remnants of once lovely wallpaper hanging, stained and faded in tatters all about them. He stopped before a door halfway down the corridor, turning to face them.
“Here we are. It is not the prettiest but it serves its purpose. I thin
k you will be comfortable.” He seemed to be trying to convince them as he stepped aside and allowed them to enter.
Desiree entered first and was not quite pleased with what met her eyes. But for two small beds, once canopied, but now sawed off at the head and footboards, a table with two chairs near the window and a washstand in one corner, the room was barren. It had been recently cleaned though. The smell of lye was slightly apparent and it was tidy.
The man spoke from the door as the two continued to look about uneasily. “Now ladies we have not but the common room and I would suggest you take, at least your evening meals here in your room, if you don’t mind. The place downstairs gets a bit, shall we say…boisterous, in the evenings.” he rubbed the stubble of his chin, smiling with obvious embarrassment.
“That would be fine, we shall dine in. Our luggage will be coming up from the docks soon, would you see that it makes its way to us?” Desiree asked, while her eyes moved to a splattering of holes in the wall to the right of the door. It looked as if someone had used the room as a shooting gallery.
“Of course and if you need anything at all during your stay, just ask at the door at the end of the hall. My wife will see to it for you.” He turned to go and looked back again, “Lunch will be served at around noon and sup at six. You should enjoy that, my wife is a wonderful cook.” He said with pride.
“I’m sure she is.” Desiree smiled kindly and the man took his leave, heading down the hall.
Bridgett closed the door and turned to face Desiree, “Well—which bed would you like?”
Desiree tossed her purse onto one of the beds, “This one will be fine.” she sighed, strolling to look out the window to the docks below. Even from here, the tall masts could be seen clearly. So many ships! They would have quite a task ahead of them, finding one which suited them for their voyage, she thought wearily. A light knock brought her attention back into the room and she waited while Bridgett opened the door.
“Your luggage.” Philippe gasped under the weight of a large trunk slung upon his back and three cloth satchels hanging from his free arm.
“Oh Philippe! You are going to break your back!” Desiree exclaimed with concern, “Just put it there.” She pointed to the wall near the beds, “That will be fine.”
Desiree helped him by taking the small bags and she flinched as the trunk slid down his back and he straightened up until it rested upon the floor. Just then, another boy came in, equally encumbered.
“Philippe help him with those!” Desiree grimaced. Philippe hurried to obey, relieving the overburdened young man of some of his load.
Desiree went to her bed and brought her purse, fishing out a coin for each, “For your trouble.” She smiled at the young man she had never seen before, placing the coin into his hand. He stood in a trance, it seemed, watching her with a strange expression, “I hope it wasn’t too much bother.” she inquired.
“Not at all Mademoiselle.” He replied softly, still with the same strange dreamy smile upon his lips.
Desiree pulled her attention from him, turning to Philippe but Philippe refused the token, pressing it back into her palm, despite her scowl, “No charge.” he said with a grin.
“Well Philippe, be sure and tell Monsieur Roche’ we arrived safely and please, if you see them, tell Rene’ and the rest one more farewell from me, will you?”
“Of course Desiree—we shall all miss you so. Please don’t stay away too long.” he sobered and continued, “And take care—we could not stand it if any harm came to you.”
He took her hand in his and lightly kissed her soft flesh, then glanced up at Bridgett and released Desiree uneasily. He lowered his head, looking down at the floor. He knew only too well that Bridgett frowned upon his attentions to Desiree, although Desiree’s own parents had seemed at ease with their friendship. It was because he was a servant and Bridgett had always thought of him as too far beneath her mistress to be so comfortable and familiar.
He had first met Desiree, she at the age of eight, at a garden party at the Roche’s. Desiree, Rene’ and Honore’ were wading in the lake, skimming stones and he had stood back, in the shadow of a tree, watching quietly. The boys had ignored his presence but when Desiree had noticed him, she had walked straight to him and brought him to join in the play. He had found that day, a friend who had shared many warm memories over the years. She had helped him to find a home, where he felt considered of worth; but Bridgett had never seen it that way and he now shuffled his feet, wishing to express his farewell to Desiree and unable to.
“Oh Philippe! Stop that! She won’t bite. You can be so silly!” Desiree giggled but noted the stern expression Bridgett was bestowing upon him. Desiree gently placed a kiss upon each of his cheeks, to his pleasure and said quietly, “Take care and remember Je t’aime.” She gave him a warm embrace and he spoke softly in her ear, “And I—you.” He stepped back and the two boys quickly took their leave. Bridgett noted the one boy, watching Philippe with admiration and a look of envy in his eyes.
As Bridgett turned back after closing the door, she found herself under the angry glare of Desiree. Desiree stood arms akimbo, with exasperation upon her lovely face.
“Bridgett you can be so unkind at times! Philippe is a good friend to me. He has always shown me only the utmost consideration and regard and you make him feel as if he is a nuisance!” Desiree shook her head and turned away with an inaudible added comment.
Bridgett made no reply but she felt no remorse for her behavior. She had never approved of Philippe or his brazen disregard for Desiree’s station above him.
***
After dining in their room, the two spent the rest of the evening hours talking quietly. The noise coming from the rowdy crowd below made them indeed thankful that they had dined in. Male laughter and female giggles could be heard over the clatter of dishes. The paper-thin walls between their room and the others on the floor did little to disguise the animalistic noises, which were coming from some of those quarters.
It was getting late, when the noise subsided enough that they were able to retire. Desiree was most grateful for the ceasing of activity and with her sensibilities greatly taxed, she found rest immediately. But not before making it clear to Bridgett that despite the lateness of the hour, she was determined to get an early start in the morning, at the huge task before them, of finding passage.
Chapter Seven
As the day broke, the two women began early, as planned, preparing for their excursion. Bridgett donned a pale green velvet dress, trimmed gently with lace at the sleeve and hem. The neckline buttoned close about her throat, very conservative by today’s standards. Then she advised Desiree on what her apparel for the day should be. Being at the waterfront and being a woman made for trouble in and of itself, but dressing too flashy or with a low décolletage could make matters worse.
She dressed Desiree in a newly procured royal blue silk gown, modest and yet attractive. Her charge was one of the few women who could forgo the corsets with heavy whalebone stays that most of the well-dressed women of France wore to enhance their waists. Her waist was tiny unfettered and the dress clung to her form attractively. Billowing sleeves were drawn with ribbons just below the elbow. The bodice showed just a hint of her full breasts, rounding above a white lace inset.
Bridgett brushed Desiree’s blue black hair until it gleamed, then set about braiding the silken tresses into a complicated design, pinning the braid at the crown of her head. A stylish hat matching the gown for color flawlessly, set upon her head at a slight angle over the bun.
Bridgett stepped back and surveyed her work with a practiced eye. The child was gorgeous in her subdued attire, perhaps even more so than in anything else she owned. Beauty of her caliber was hard to come by, in Bridgett’s memory she had never seen a lass that could compare in the slightest.
Desiree stood back from the small cracked mirror that they had discovered hanging on the inside of the closet door and scrutinized her appearance. She found herself often ver
y critical of her looks. She had become so accustomed to admirers harping on this great beauty she possessed, she found herself doubting the sincerity of the compliments. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection and turned away. “Shall we go below for breakfast?” she asked.
“Oui, it is very quiet. I am sure the common room will be relatively calm.” Bridgett agreed confidently.
***
Throughout the Baie de la Seine and into the docks and along the river, ships numbering several score were going out or coming in from sea, docked along the piers or anchored out in the bay awaiting their turn to unload or take on cargo. Bridgett and Desiree walked eyes trained upon the masts that loomed above them, as they searched out the ships that might be going to the New World.
Before long, their choices became limited. Desiree found fault with each vessel they passed. Many of the ships, which flew the British flag—France’s often-great enemy—, but at the moment tolerated neighbor, were not the type of vessel she had in mind to spend the next two months aboard. They were dirty, with rough men using foul language, barking out orders to grimy sailors. Many of the same men made lewd remarks to them as they walked along.
Some ships were obviously whalers bound for northern waters. Then others looked unworthy of a long voyage, as craftsmanship was a large problem yet in many parts of the ship building industry. Some of the ships were privateers, with large cannons jutting out from the sides at measured intervals. Those also were out of the question. She did not care for the idea of doing battle at sea.
They continued on, sidestepping crates and livestock, skirting around puddles of stagnant water and garbage that lay along the wooden walkways. The smell of mildew, sweat, fish and animals was almost overwhelming.
They seemed to be among a very few women who ventured to the waterfront. The women Desiree saw about them looked rough and not particularly clean. A few gave the pair looks of hatred as they hung seductively on the arms of sailors—as though she and Bridgett were competition for the men’s affections. It was sure that these women would just as soon not have more competition. They fought hard to earn a few francs from the ships full of lusty men.
