by Jeffrey Cook
The ornithopter has taken to following Miss Bowe around at all times now. While it disturbs me to admit it, the terrible thing does behave very much like an exceptionally intelligent animal. It follows numerous commands, reacts to stimuli around it, and, save when specifically told to stay, will attend Miss Bowe's every movement about the ship. On one such occasion while it was doing so, Jillian attempted to pass Samantha and her contraption in the hallways. Owing to the narrowness of the passage, Jillian's skirts somehow became entangled in its front spokes, and with a sudden movement and a snapping of a lace, she was divested of her dress in a most shocking manner. Jillian's outcry alerted everyone else to the problem, and her brother and Miss Wright quickly came to her rescue. Of considerably less help was Samantha Bowe herself, who did little other than whistle in a most unseemly fashion before falling to uproarious laughter, and since then has passed up very few opportunities to tease Miss Coltrane about her lacy underthings. I fear it may be some misguided attempt at revenge for Miss Coltrane's insistence on making sure Miss Bowe is prepared to dress and comport herself like a proper lady for the party. In any case, since this incident, Miss Coltrane has given both Miss Bowe and the ornithopter as wide a berth as possible. After most of a day in seclusion, Jillian regained enough of her dignity to reemerge and throw herself back into her efforts to prepare for the big event.
A bizarre conversational quartet has developed as Miss Penn and Miss Wright have allied to assure Miss Bowe that if she gives in, just this once, to a custom-made dress and properly styled hair, it will truly only be this once. The two of them sit with Miss Bowe and Eddy, talking more about the party than Miss Bowe would prefer. Miss Penn serves as something as a go-between, buffering Miss Wright's enthusiasm for the grand social occasion by listening to it. I grow more certain than ever that Eddy quite favors Miss Wright each time he addresses a question not to Miss Bowe about hunting, but to Miss Wright about her lab maintenance. Julietta Penn seems to agree, for when Miss Wright instead begins going on about the young Englishmen of distinguished breeding and character who may be in attendance at the party in front of Eddy, she rhetorically swoops in with a grace just short of Miss Coltrane's, if much less decent. She steers the conversation around to the dress again, and Miss Bowe's objections to these new sartorial interruptions are met with an insistent flash of green eyes. I certainly cannot say that I particularly care for Miss Penn in any fashion, but I can appreciate her own variety of tact. Her knowledge of formal occasions and how to handle herself – and how to handle both Miss Wright and Miss Bowe – at least frees Miss Coltrane to attend to her important business and eases the social situation among our company.
July 26th, 1815
New York
40º 47'N 073º 58'W
My Dearest Cordelia,
By the time this letter reaches you, I am sure that the events that transpired in New York will have reached your shores, and you, like all of England will be quite absorbed in the scandal that has so hit us coming from the Governor's Ball just last evening. I know you are aware of my companions, so I am certain you have been awaiting some word from me to document the truth of what occurred when assassins attempted to kill the King and Queen of France (and perhaps some of our own colonial dignitaries) before all present.
We were quite surprised to find out that Louis and Queen Marie would be in attendance, but given the momentous nature of the alliance and treaty, perhaps I should not have been so surprised they made the long journey to the colonies for the event. Given how recent the war was (even though Napoleon, not Louis, was responsible, obviously) it is also not surprising that they would have kept their attendance secret until their arrival on American shores. With good reason, as it turns out, but as it turned out the plans were still not secretive enough.
We were certainly prepared to attend. The battle suit was readied, but ultimately it was decided that the dashing young hero should be allowed to mingle and speak, and that many of the ladies present would be terrified by such a monster, and, of course, there would be plenty of security present on behalf of both crowns in a more official capacity, so certainly nothing of the sort would be needed.
As it matters to some degree for this story, Miss Penn and Miss Wright finally convinced Miss Bowe to dress properly for the occasion, and the Coltranes would make arrangements to pay for the tailors. Currently the vogue is inspired by post war fabric excesses, and post war leisure. I'm hereby reporting that stays are now being called corsets in fashionable New York, apparently a product of men returning home from war and women returning to the home from nursing. Skirts seem to have multiplying gores, as buying English wool is the ultimate in fashionable English patriotism. I wanted you to know, should these trends find hold in England.
As Samantha did not know her sizes or any such thing, and is built, so far as I can tell, primarily rectangular, it took very talented tailors to come and do the work on short notice. The other women present in our group were mostly prepared, though Miss Penn needed something fitting for the occasion, but at least knew her sizes and the ins and outs of women's fashion, while Mrs. Fisher had to be outfitted a bit fancier than her usual means allow for. As she is an employee of the Coltranes, this was no difficulty. Eddy was also to be dressed fittingly for the occasion, though he was grateful that at least some of the dignitaries present were of Scottish descent and character, and thus he would be permitted formal dress in the fashion of his home.
Miss Bowe, however, was quite the sight. I daresay that I have seen happier wet cats. Despite the best work of well paid specialists, she is simply not fit to corsetry, and complained often and loudly that she could not breathe, and while of no bust, even when so outfitted, she is of such muscle that the corset often creaked ominously when she moved about. Her hair was another matter of great debate, for it was tied up and perfumed, which she claimed was giving her the sniffles, and the hat looked positively out of place, perched on her head in place of her more traditional and nigh constant frontiersman's hat.
Surprising us all greatly, Mr. Franzini took especially well to the occasion, and when he had the means and tailors available, ended up looking quite rakish, though still oily and distinctively Italian. But perhaps I shall have to soon edit my thoughts, for with France becoming peaceable, perhaps Italy or Spain will be next. Either way, I would not trust him even were his nation to become our closest of friends.
The most bitter bone of contention in all our preparations regards the matter of armaments at the event. The gentlemen, coming in the capacity of famed war heroes, and unofficially a part of the security measures, were permitted light arms. The ladies, however, were to go about entirely unarmed, which was to include Miss Bowe's knives. These she was loudly loath to part with. Likewise, the ornithopter was not permitted. Thankfully in such time as we have had, she has convinced it at times to 'guard,' per its known commands. When given this order it will stand quite still at the door to her chambers and only move again upon her return. It almost seems excited at these times, if I can express the actions of a machine in emotional terms, though nothing else quite describes the reactions of this contraption, beyond bedevilment. Such curses are not something to which I am yet willing to subscribe to belief in, though I am growing closer by the day.
Almost upon arrival, Sir James and Miss Coltrane were quickly the center of the party, for everyone wanted to speak with them. Sir James was almost immediately beset by friends and strangers alike. It should not at all surprise me by now that he should have friends in these distant shores, both among landed men, former Oxford graduates who have come to New York to aid in its growth and industrialization, and among officers from the war years of sufficient rank and means to attend such an event as this. He found himself some space in this after a few rounds partially by introducing Eddy, who I have no doubt is even now cursing him for the added attention when he wished to greet his countrymen as soon as possible and mingle with other Scotsmen.
In any case, Sir James's respite was not
to last long, for Sir James was no further than a few steps beyond these military gentlemen then he found himself quite beset by the folk of the social scene, and many women wishing to be sure they had a place upon his dance card. I am not certain he would have had any real time to see to any degree of guard duty. Even so, he seemed to be enjoying all of this attention.
Almost as popular, Miss Coltrane found herself completely surrounded by all manner of people, from ladies of her station wishing gossip to young men wishing conversation and promises of a dance. Some few people sought some comment from her upon the nature of the upcoming mission and what place she felt her brother and family might play in the diplomacy to come. She weathered it all with perfect manners and even made a point of introducing the ladies with her, much to Harriet's pleasure and benefit – and to Miss Bowe's disgust.
They each had their own attention quickly enough, for today they were celebrities of sorts, even if the occasion was about larger matters still, and not everyone could crowd about Miss Coltrane. Miss Wright made some attempt to show her social graces, which is to say while being quite overwhelmed, she tipped over a small table and tripped over a young gentleman with whom she was trying to flirt. He quickly made his way away once she had regained her feet.
Miss Bowe was more graceful by far, and less gracious by an equal margin. She would have no part in flirtation, and it would have been a complete disaster and perhaps even an incident if Miss Penn had not rescued her and come to the fore as a socially capable woman in her own right, far beyond the indignities of her heritage and previous social status. For this, Samantha seemed quite grateful to be rescued again and again in proper manner, though I have no idea how a half blood gypsy could so well know the ways of England, and show such remarkable patience with people when she had so divorced herself from our company for so long. I cannot be certain, of course, but perhaps she wished to somehow make up for her false infatuation with Sam Bowe when she thought him the dashing and handsome, if youthful, man, rather than the square and undignified woman. Either way, it got them through those occasions, and all seemed to be going exceptionally well at the time.
There was some further time to mingle before everyone was invited to supper, that the people of occasion could salute one another and show significant ceremony up to the occasion. By that time, I had excused myself enough times with explanation of my marital status that I was grateful for the break, though still quite enraptured with watching the charm that the Coltranes show at work in their arena. We all sat, and were placed together, giving some respite to those who had been greatly beleaguered by the masses, and especial respite from trying to even pretend some proper sociability for Miss Bowe. We sat through speeches of the occasion, which I am sure will be echoed throughout the land as great words when the scandal dies down.
It was some time during all of this that the assassins struck, having somehow placed themselves among the serving staff. A young man pulled the top off a serving tray to reveal a pistol, and numerous others throughout the place then rose with declarations stating that France should never bow before England, and would be free of our tyranny, along with similar epithets belonging to such radicals. He drew the gun, which no one was prepared for in the least. Indeed, right now, the scandal should be much larger, and France either in mourning or chaos, but for the interference of a serving fork.
As usual, the first person to react had been Miss Bowe, who, upon the first movement of the gunman, had reacted at once, taking advantage of the fork in her hand and throwing it with such accuracy and force that it plunged into the man's arm and caused him to miss his shot, firing harmlessly into the ceiling instead. Unfortunately there was more than one assassin about the plot – quite the company it seems, and I, in hindsight, cannot be surprised. It is the duty of politicians and royalty to mark such occasions as this with revelry, speeches and ceremony, but we had fought a long and bitter war, and there were hard feelings on all sides. That some of those hard feelings should infiltrate the higher levels of society enough to allow a group of saboteurs and killers in a large and hastily thrown-together occasion should not have surprised me.
These were desperate people in the extreme, not out to survive their villainy, but instead to commit their foul act as publicly and loudly as possible. Guns were watched for fairly closely, but some number had managed them. Others took up other weapons, from concealed knives to swords that it turned out had been stolen from the ceremonial statues about the place, or from display racks. It was quite the daunting show, and there was all at once a great deal of screaming and running about such that any kind of evacuation would have been impossible, though the first of the aides and bodyguards were making their way towards the respective delegations. In this time, the primary bodyguard to the Governor of the New York territories was stabbed fatally by one of the assassins, leaving the Governor and his wife defenseless.
It was a horror, to be certain, but at least unlike many of those present, we had means to interfere, for some of our company were armed, and just starting to get into the habit once more of being defenders of their nation. None were so quick about it as Samantha, however, who had leapt to her feet, and from there to the table. Apparently expecting such a thing, and willing to put up with aiding in terrible behavior for a woman, I noticed Miss Penn tugging upon Samantha's dress hem sufficient to catch her attention, and once she had done so, she withdrew a knife from her bodice and handed it to Samantha. It seems that not all of our women were entirely willing to go without any kind of armament. Now equipped with a smaller but still deadly version of her favorite weapon, Samantha leapt from the table, upsetting it thoroughly, and dove towards the nearest man armed with a pistol. She cut him across the arm enough to cause him to drop his weapon, though I believe she intended to do worse. Finding her reach entirely insufficient, her next slash was to her skirts, giving her greater freedom of movement, but not enough. Having presented herself as a threat, if one both rapidly finding herself short on breath and short on the mobility she was used to, she soon found herself pressed back under assault from multiple attackers.
By this time, Eddy had stood and used his drawn gun to take down one of the assailants nearest him with the butt, then fired once, taking down another man who had taken up arms and rushed towards the Governor of New York. Sir James followed into the fray, managing to catch a man by the wrist, causing him to miss his shot. Another would have stabbed him then, but Eddy came to his friend's rescue, bodily knocking the man with the knife down. The two stood back to back then amidst a knot of attackers, for in taking the fight to the attackers, we had ended up between the kitchens, where most of the attackers had been in hiding, and the dignitaries present, including the King and Queen of France and most of the regional governors.
It was an inspiring vision, the pair of them taking all about them, and at such time as they had clear space, they would find a new target, though firing guns was a mostly impractical thing amidst the near riot as people sought some safety, and the staffs tried to get the royalty and other men and women of import out of the room with haste.
Unable to reach my fellows through the chaos, I instead aided that latter effort, drawing my gun and moving to a doorway. I shot one of the would-be assassins as he tried to bar anyone fleeing through one of the doors, then took up a sentry post by the door, hurrying dinner guests through. This afforded me a fine vision of the rest of the room, and brandishing my pistol seemed to discourage any efforts to engage me too closely, though I was unable to draw a good shot without risking the lives of bystanders.
Seeing that the grounds had been compromised, Sir James was the first to realize perhaps there was some threat we were not seeing. He attempted to rush towards the regional governors to aid in the guarding and evacuation, but was pushed back by the mass of the crowd all about. Eddy roared then, enough to draw some attention as he bulled his way through the crowd, knocking aside what men he needed to, with Sir James close behind him. They reached the dignitaries at last, and
were recognized enough as heroes of war that the guardsmen allowed them to fall in. With Eddy leading, they sought to evacuate the British governors, and, as Sir James had expected, there they found another ambush. Expecting this instead of stumbling in blind, he fired rapidly, turning the pepper-box pistol between each shot, managing to fell two men and wound a third before they could get a shot off. Though one of the guards was shot dead, another injured, Eddy managed to find his shot by merit of being taller than the men ahead of him, though their jostling threw his aim off, wasting his first shot. His second was true, and he dropped the last of the men who had not yet emptied their guns, and then Sir James and the forefront of the guard were upon the last of them before they could reload. Even flight was denied the assassins, for Eddy's final shot dropped the one man who briefly made it clear of the conflict and tried to flee.
While they were at that, Miss Bowe had found herself having drawn a great deal of attention from our assailants, having ruined the first shot. Somehow she had found a second blade from the table, and thus was fighting at least three men, perhaps more, though I could not be sure, armed with a bodice knife and a steak knife. Despite this poor armament she was holding her own, though her breath was labored and she could barely move and certainly not lunge into her efforts, due to her own dresses and bindings. The table she had knocked over guarded her back, with Julietta Penn remaining behind her and the table for cover. Our gypsy woman meanwhile had leaned herself across the table and was desperately sawing through the threads of Samantha's bodice with another steak knife, that Sam might fight and breathe. It came free at last, and Samantha lunged forward in her far-less-restrictive undershirts, surprising the men who thought they had her pinned down.
