Libretto Prologue
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Devil's Bluff 1892 by Terri Kay Emanuel Ancient feud treacherous rivalry gilded alchemy; it's the descendants' secret to unearth...or to keep. The stillness of the wind; we meet again my sovereign friend. I can feel ancestry beckon me; I can feel history surround me. It is our destiny to walk through God's barren field and come upon our own granite namesake; time will forsake. The stillness of the wind; we meet at Devil's Bluff. Have a look around have a talk with God turn back around and find your own journey to walk. Time is seamless wounds are healing before destiny consumes us I need you to believe in me. A whisper swept beneath the Highland Sky a promise kept even though it has cost my life. As we gravitate toward the misty ledge of the North Scotland bluff, she turns, in a possessed falsetto, "If you're innocent, God will save your soul." One plot is filled and the other plot is shallow; the Seamstress and the Governor/Street Lighter (Governor by day street lighter by night.) Their death dates a few days apart; the Seamstress' date precedent. Dry grass dry soil seamless and unspoilt since 1892. A pair of cricket bats lean behind the decayed, abandoned one-room schoolhouse. Have a look around have a talk with God turn back around and find your own journey to walk. The briskly walks toward a small, cultivated patch of outlying woods and she uncovers a rusted shovel. My astonishment mortification grief versus her anguish rectitude recrimination. Sixteen female corpses; luminous and meticulously preserved; all models and patrons of the Cavendish Square Seamstress; incidental damage of the Governor's unrequited obsession for the petite and refined light-skinned Negro Seamstress; a hybrid bird; the Governor's unwitting muse. Only God shall determine the creation of art. A macabre gallery of the Seamstress' Victorian garment sketches; an array of felt hats gloves petticoats stockings shawls bodices bustles and feathered bonnets with precise measurements of the victims scattered inside a Southwark riverside warehouse. Along our wayward 'sightseer' tour, we encounter the street lighter bunker. Inside the deserted bunker, the Governor's large cresset displayed on the yellow tinged plaster wall with wooden beams. On the opposite wall, three small cressets custom made for the Governor's children: Katherine, Jacob and Abraham. Katherine's descendant; short bleached solid pale blonde bob cut hairdo with blue doe eyes. Our timid, tight-lipped bookkeeper at the London Public Record Office. Jacob's descendant; the Scotland Yard Chief Inspector; our dissuasive escort at Devil's Bluff. Abraham: myopic, undiagnosed scoliosis/kyphosis, dyslexia; illiterate. One wintry evening ten-year-old red-haired Abraham takes a nasty spill on his wooden street lighter stilts. The Seamstress' fierce and flamboyant Irish mother absconds with the Governor's Faberge egg and escapes with Abraham aboard a Liverpool steamship; first class passenger cabin; exclusive ticket to opulent Grand Saloon, ballroom and dining. 'Sahara Fantaisie-impromptu' original composition performed by the ship's enticing and dynamic music room pianist, the Seamstress' identical twin sister, a mellifluent hybrid bird raised on London's burgeoning Denmark Street. One week transatlantic voyage docks at Hudson pier; the Empire City awaits. Exquisite delicate poised Aliaa's heartbeat pulsates from the core of the enamel shell of an imperial trinket. Behold a precious commodity consumed by relentless passion.[