Read Online The Secrets of Mary Bowser by Lois Leveen - Free Book Online Page A

another petticoat. At last I pulled on my dress, a green-and-yellow-striped silk. Unlike the loose frocks I’d always worn, this dress had a lady’s fitted bodice. The double-row of covered buttons down the front followed the lines of the corset, and the elegantly formed sleeves began inches below my shoulders, tapering down to my narrow wrists. The collar, trimmed with green lace, was fashioned broad and low in anticipation of the summer heat, leaving a scoop of skin below my collar-bones exposed for all the world to see.
    Mama and Zinnie always wore unadorned blouses and skirts, no sewn trim, with underblouses and underskirts only when needed to guard against cold weather. The lively patterns of the gingham from which their garments were cut quickly grew dull with wear and washing. As I slipped on my hose and then my new ankle boots, I ruminated on how the shaped undergarments and the tight cut of my dress created the effect of a figure I hadn’t yet developed. Though I could barely move for the weight of all those layers, I tried to carry myself as I believed Mistress Van Lew or Miss Bet or any real lady would, as I stepped into the next room.
    Papa stood, his large eyes blinking at me. “Philadelphia lucky to have such a fine young lady, pretty as she is smart.”
    Most days I would have beamed with pride at such a compliment, but the thought of leaving him caught my mouth closed. I crossed the small room and held him tight, surprised at how tall my new shoes made me against his large frame. He kissed the top of my head, as he often did, but he no longer had to stoop to do so.
    “I hope you saved room in that satchel for one final gift, necessar-y to an-y free la-dy.” He gestured to the table, where two wrapped packages sat. “One for each of my free ladies,” he said, handing one to Mama and the other to me. We opened them in unison, to find identical stacks of cream-colored writing paper, each with a set of a dozen steel pen nibs on top. “My ladies be writing each other furious often I bet, and be through these piles in no time. Why, if Minerva gonna write down all she got to say, I best be saving for the next pile of paper already.”
    Mama scowled in mock disapproval of Papa’s joke. I was ready to tease him back, asking where his stack was. But just before speaking I caught myself. Papa had no use for letter paper. He wasn’t literate.
    Six days out of seven during my childhood, Mama enjoyed a connection to me that slavery denied my father. Now that I was going North to freedom, he couldn’t even share the solace of writing to me and reading my responses.
    We left the cabin and made our way up Church Hill, arriving just as Josiah pulled the larger of the Van Lew carriages, drawn by four of the family’s six white horses, to the front of the mansion. As Papa helped him load the trunks, Zinnie came out to bid me farewell, flanked by Lilly and Daisy. The sight of their family together brought a tremble to Mama’s lips, and after speaking only a few low words wishing me well, Zinnie hustled her daughters back into the house.
    Papa marked how high the sun was in the sky, and we both knew his good-bye couldn’t be put off any longer. “We always knowed you was special, Mary El. Now you got to prove it to the world. Mind how your mama and I raised you. And remember, some folks mighta been born to more than you, but none been born better than you.” Comforting as those words would be in the months and years ahead, I was startled by what came next. “And don’t let none of them Northern colored gentlemen run off with you, without asking your papa’s leave first.” Before I could object that no gentleman would be interested in me, he added, grinning as best he could, “Since you Minerva’s daughter, only fair I warn any suitor what he be up against. Now go along and make us proud.”
    “I will, Papa,” I promised. He kissed me and Mama and then turned back toward Shockoe Bottom, hurrying to his