Chapter 7The Governor's Hall

Hester Prynne went to Governor Bellingham’s place one day. She brought gloves she’d fringed and embroidered, made exactly how he wanted. He was planning to wear them for a big state thing.

Even though he wasn’t the top dog anymore - a popular vote knocked him down a bit - he was still important and had a lot of influence with the colonial leaders.

Hester had a way bigger reason than just wanting to drop off a pair of embroidered gloves that made her seek out Governor Bellingham.

Word was getting around that some of the town’s most serious folks - the ones who were super strict about religion and government - were trying to take Pearl away from her. They figured, since Pearl was supposedly a demon child, it was their duty to protect Hester’s soul.

But, if Pearl could grow up to be good and saved, wouldn’t she be better off with someone who could give her a better chance? Governor Bellingham was supposedly one of the main people pushing for it. It sounds kinda wild, right?

Nowadays, this would just be a small-town issue handled by the selectmen. But back then, even serious stuff got debated by the big shots. It was a time when things were way simpler. They even argued about a pig once, and it ended up changing the whole way the government worked!

Worried, for sure - but also super confident and feeling like she was totally in the right, even against the whole world - Hester Prynne headed out from her quiet cottage. Little Pearl was, naturally, with her.

She was old enough to skip along beside her mom, and she was always on the move, from sunrise to sunset, and could’ve walked way further than they needed to. Still, sometimes, just because she felt like it, she’d demand to be picked up.

But then she's be just as bossy about being put down again, and she'd zoom ahead on the grassy path, tripping and tumbling all over the place. We’ve talked about Pearl’s amazing, gorgeous looks - a beauty that just glowed.

She had a bright complexion, eyes that were intense and sparkly, and hair that was already a deep, shiny brown, practically black in a few years. There was fire in her, through and through; she felt like an unplanned burst of passion.

Her mom, when picking out her clothes, let her imagination run wild, putting her in a bright red velvet dress with crazy, fancy gold stitching.

That much color, which would’ve made someone with paler cheeks look washed out, totally suited Pearl’s beauty and made her like a tiny, bright flame dancing on the earth.

It was a wild thing about this outfit, and honestly, about Pearl’s whole vibe, that it totally reminded you of the scarlet letter Hester Prynne had to wear. It was like the scarlet letter, but alive!

Hester, as if the red shame was burned into her brain, had carefully made it look like that; spending tons of time being extra clever to make Pearl look like the emblem of her guilt and pain. But really, Pearl was the letter, and that's why Hester was so good at making her look like it.

As they walked into town, the Puritan kids stopped playing - or what they called playing, those gloomy little ones - and started talking seriously: "Look! There’s the woman with the scarlet letter, and... seriously, there’s a tiny version of the scarlet letter running with her!" one said.

"Let’s throw mud at them!" But Pearl, who was a total daredevil, frowned, stomped her foot, and shook her little hand, making a bunch of threatening moves. Then, she just bolted at the group of kids and scared them away.

She was like a tiny, fierce disease - scarlet fever or some kind of half-grown angel of judgment - sent to punish the younger generation. She screamed and shouted, too, so loud that the kids probably jumped out of their skins. After winning, Pearl just came back to her mom and smiled up at her.

They finally got to Governor Bellingham's place. It was a huge wooden house, like you still see in older towns - all mossy and falling apart, kinda sad from all the stuff that's happened inside. But back then, it looked fresh and happy, sunshine streaming from the windows.

It felt like a real home, untouched by death. Seriously, it was bright! The walls were covered in stucco mixed with bits of broken glass. When the sun hit it, it sparkled like someone had tossed diamonds all over the place. It was more like Aladdin’s palace than the house of a serious, old Puritan.

Plus, there were these weird symbols and drawings all over it, totally in style for the time. They were set into the stucco and had become super solid, meant to impress people for years to come. Pearl stared, totally mesmerized.

She started jumping around and demanded they just rip off all that sunshine and let her play with it. "No, little Pearl," her mom said. "You gotta find your own sunshine. I don’t have any to give you."

They headed for the door - it was arched, with skinny towers on either side. Each tower had lattice windows and wooden shutters. Hester Prynne grabbed the iron hammer hanging by the entrance and gave a knock. A bond-servant answered. He was a free-born Englishman, but now a seven-year slave.

For those seven years, he belonged to his master, just like property - as much as an ox or a stool. He wore a blue coat, the usual thing for servants back then, even way back in England’s old halls. "Is Governor Bellingham around? Hester asked.

"Yep," the bond-servant replied, eyes wide at the scarlet letter - he’s new to the country and had never seen anything like it. "The Governor’s in. But he’s got some ministers and a doctor with him. You can’t see him right now. "I’ll come in anyway," Hester said.

The bond-servant, probably guessing she was a big deal because of her confident look and the sparkly symbol on her chest, didn’t stop her.

The mother and little Pearl were let into the entrance hall. Governor Bellingham had designed his new house to feel like a fancy place back home - you know, like the houses of well-off guys. It was a big, pretty high hall that stretched all the way through the house, making it easy to get around.

Windows in the two towers at one end lit up the room, creating little nooks on either side of the doorway. The other end was brighter, even with a curtain, thanks to one of those huge windows you read about in old books. There was a comfy, deep seat there too.

A big book - probably about English history or something - lay on the cushion. Just like we toss pretty books on our coffee tables these days, for show. The hall had some serious chairs with carved oak flowers, and a matching table.

Everything was from the Elizabethan era, or even earlier - real heirlooms from the Governor’s family. A big pewter tankard sat on the table, a reminder of old-school English hospitality. If Hester or Pearl had looked inside, they would’ve seen the last bits of ale.

A bunch of portraits lined the wall, showing off the Bellingham family’s ancestors. Some were decked out in armor, others in fancy ruffs and robes. They all had that serious, stern look you always see in old portraits. It was like they were actual ghosts, not just pictures, judging everyone living.

In the middle of the oak paneling in the hall hung a suit of armor - not an old family heirloom, but brand new. It was made by a skilled armorer in London, the same year Governor Bellingham arrived in New England.

There was a steel helmet, a breastplate, a gorget, and greaves, plus gauntlets and a sword. Everything, especially the helmet and breastplate, was so polished it practically glowed, reflecting light all over the floor.

This wasn’t just for show; the Governor had worn it in lots of important drills and training sessions, and it had even glittered at the head of a regiment during the Pequod war.

Even though he was a lawyer, used to talking about Bacon, Coke, Noye, and Finch, this new country had turned Governor Bellingham into a soldier, a statesman, and a ruler.

Little Pearl - who loved the armor just as much as she’d loved the house's shiny front - spent a while looking into the polished surface of the breastplate. "Mom," she shouted, "I see you in here! Look! Look!"

Hester glanced at the child, just playing along; and she noticed that, because of this weird curved mirror, the scarlet letter looked huge and extra noticeable - it was totally the biggest thing about her. It felt like she was hidden behind it, honestly.

Pearl pointed up, too, at a similar picture in the mirror above; she grinned at her mom, with that mischievous look she always had.

The mirror bounced that look back, making it even bigger and brighter, so Hester Prynne felt like it couldn’t be her kid’s image, but some little imp trying to copy Pearl. Come on, Pearl, she said, pulling her closer. Let’s check out this garden.

"Maybe we’ll see some flowers; even prettier ones than in the woods." Pearl ran to the window at the end of the hall and looked down a path lined with short grass and some sad little bushes.

It was clear the owner had given up trying to make it like an English garden - the soil was rough and everything was a struggle.

You could see cabbages growing right there; and a huge pumpkin vine had stretched across the yard, dropping one of its giant pumpkins right under the window - like a warning to the Governor that this giant veggie was as fancy as New England could get.

There were a few rose bushes, and some apple trees, probably the ones planted by Reverend Mr. Blackstone, the first settler. That legendary dude who supposedly rode around on a bull - a real character in our early stories.

Pearl, spotting the rose bushes, burst into tears, wanting a red rose and refusing to calm down. "Shhh, sweetie, shhh!" her mom said, sounding really serious. "Don’t cry, little Pearl! I hear voices out there. The Governor’s coming, and a bunch of other guys too!"

Sure enough, you could see a group of people making their way down the garden path towards the house. Pearl totally ignored her mom trying to stop her and let out a wild scream, then went quiet. It wasn’t because she was being obedient, but because she was super curious about these new arrivals.