Revolution (23 page)

Nearly a month before, on October 31st, William Augustus, the Duke of Cumberland — who very likely would have recommended to a vacillating
Lord Rockingham and his ministers, and to an uncertain but deferential nephew, George the Third, that the best solution to the seditious turmoil in the American colonies was a military one — died of a heart attack an hour or so before a crucial policymaking meeting at his residence at Windsor Great Lodge, at the age of forty-four.

* * *

The Lieutenant-Governor married Hugh Kenrick and Reverdy Brune-McDougal in the regal foyer of the Palace on the afternoon of the first Sunday of winter, well into the Advent season. Present at the ceremony were Reverdy’s brother James, Jack and Etáin Frake, and John Proudlocks. The day was cold and overcast, but no snow fell.

It was a simple Anglican ceremony, performed with sonorous dignity by the Lieutenant-Governor, who finished it in ten minutes. In his letter to Hugh, Fauquier had also invited his party to dine with him in the adjoining visitors’ parlor. Here was set an elegant and generously laden table in that room befitting the coming holiday season. They were joined by Fauquier’s wife, Catherine.

Fauquier was curious about why the couple did not avail themselves of the services of the minister at St. Stepney’s parish in Caxton, but settled for private speculation. Animosities, he guessed. Reverend Albert Acland had written him a number of times over the years, complaining about Mr. Kenrick and other Queen Anne planters, but Fauquier had limited his replies to that unhappy man to mere acknowledgements. The clergy here were too bothersome for words, pulling him this way and that in their own campaign for sovereignty over the souls and purses of their flocks. He wished that the matter of establishing an episcopate here in the colonies were not so intimately but irrelevantly tied to political matters. A North American episcopate would save him so much contentious business with William Robinson, the Commissary, and all his allies among the Virginia clergy.

The conversation at the dinner was cordial and sprightly.

“I have heard you are a singer, milady,” he said to the bride.

“Yes, your honor,” replied Reverdy, “but I am an amateur only, although I have seen notices of my performances in some of the London papers.”

“Well, I must envy you on that account. I have not been noticed in the papers at all, except now and then as a devil. Not in London, that is.”

Reverdy glanced at Etáin, then said, “We are planning to have a Christmas concert and ball at Mr. Vishonn’s place at Enderly on Christmas day, your honor. We would be greatly honored if you and your wife would attend. Mr. Vishonn would be especially honored by your presence.”

Fauquier smiled. “Well, milady, I thank you for the thought and the invitation. Regrettably, my family and I had planned to spend a quiet Christmas day here.”

Hugh took Reverdy’s hand and said, “Music! Had I the knowledge of it, I would compose a concerto and entitle it ‘An Ode to Thia.’”

“Thia?” inquired Etáin.

The Lieutenant-Governor answered, “She was a Titan, the mother of Helios, and so, by implication, the mother of light.” He addressed Hugh. “You do your bride a great honor.”

“You gentlemen flatter me,” said Reverdy.

Hugh shook his head. “No flattery, milady. You know I am not capable of it. Of compliments, yes.” Then he paused, and added, “For a while, though, we were like Thisbe and Pyramus, and talked through walls for the longest time. But the walls have been surmounted, and now we are together.”

“I am not familiar with that legend, Hugh,” said Reverdy.

“It is something of a tragedy, milady,” said Fauquier, “the reverse of
Romeo and Juliet
.” He paused before he continued, and then added ominously, but with muted cheerfulness, “It is one based on an equally sad misunderstanding, if I remember it correctly.”

“My beloved and I will rewrite those tragedies,” said Hugh.

The Lieutenant-Governor rose and picked up his glass of madeira. “Well, let us toast the groom and his bride, nonetheless.”

The dinner concluded two hours later. Jack, Etáin, and Proudlocks prepared to return to Caxton. Hugh and Reverdy had reserved an entire room for themselves at the Raleigh for the next few evenings. Hallam’s troupe of actors was in town, with an announced program of two plays, George Lillo’s
The London Merchant
and Richard Steele’s
The Conscious Lovers.
Jack Frake and Etáin thanked the Lieutenant-Governor for his hospitality. When they had gone outside to wait for Hugh and Reverdy, Fauquier remarked to Hugh, “Mr. Frake is a paragon of reticence, sir. Correct me if I am in error, but I believe he uttered no more than twenty words the whole time. Did I not marry that couple at your request, as well?”

Hugh nodded. “You did, your honor.”

“But, I have the distinct impression that he does not like me.”

“Perhaps he does not wish to dislike you, your honor. You are, after all, an amiable gentleman, but unfortunately, you are also the Crown.” Hugh paused. “The Crown has done him many a disservice. I can make the same complaint. However, in these times, Jack and I are Amys and Amylion.”

“There is another tragedy I am presuming you intend to revise the ending of,” remarked the Lieutenant-Governor with a chuckle. “Which of you won’t die in the end?”

“Neither of us,” answered Hugh with exuberance.

“And that Indian chap, Mr. Proudlocks,” ventured Fauquier, “he is very well spoken. What is he all about?”

“He is studying with our resident Solon to become a lawyer, your honor,” said Hugh. “He has uttered more wisdom than I wager you receive from the Board of Trade.”

To this, the Lieutenant-Governor had nothing to say, but he put a hand on Hugh’s shoulder, and said, “If you are not otherwise engaged with your bride tomorrow afternoon, sir, please come here and we will take a carriage ride over the grounds here. It is quite a lovely tour, even for all the bare trees. I have some important matters to discuss with you.”

Hugh nodded, and he and Reverdy took their leave.

* * *

The next day was bright and cloudless. Hugh and the Lieutenant-Governor rode, not the coach of state, but a less ostentatious landau, the black driver taking them through a back entrance of the Palace yard to a trail that led to Capitol Landing near the York River. The carriage rumbled at a leisurely pace through ranks of bare trees over a narrow road of crushed stone. It was a quiet ride, except for the rattling windows and the crunch of stone beneath wheels and hooves. Hugh was nearly light-headed with happiness. The Lieutenant-Governor was glumly serious, almost morose.

After preliminary exchanges about the weather, marriage, and the extensive preparations for the holiday season in the Palace, the Lieutenant-Governor took a pamphlet from inside his coat and handed it to Hugh. “That was sent to me by a friend in Maryland, Mr. Kenrick. That, and other seditious claptrap. Do you know this fellow?”

It was a copy of Daniel Dulany’s
Considerations on the Propriety of imposing Taxes in the British Colonies, for the Purpose of raising a Revenue, by
Act of Parliament
. Hugh smiled and handed it back to Fauquier. “Yes, your honor. Or, rather, I know of him. I own a copy of this very tract. It is widely read. Other tracts are in the works, I understand. Why, I have even heard that our own Mr. Bland here is composing his own fragment on the same subject.”

“It will not be printed by the foreman of the
Gazette
, I can assure you of that, sir,” replied the Lieutenant-Governor with uncharacteristic conviction.

“Then I imagine that Mr. Bland will need to apply to the printer in Maryland, as well. Have you read this tract, your honor?” asked Hugh.

“Yes, some of it,” answered Fauquier. “’Tis the musing screed of a mere pettifogger, written to justify the ingratitude and actions of blood-thirsty factions.”

“Hardly a mere pettifogger, your honor,” said Hugh. “Mr. Dulany’s father studied at Gray’s Inn, and the author at the Middle Temple.” He paused and grinned at the disgust on his host’s face. “I do not entirely agree with Mr. Dulany’s arguments in that tract, sir. But he, like many other thoughtful gentlemen, is striving to find a perfect rebuttal to the Crown’s assertions.”

Fauquier scoffed. “A
rebuttal
? I did not know one had been invited, or even allowed!”

Hugh shrugged. “When one is being told what to do by a complete stranger, and required to pay for the privilege of doing it, as well, the stranger may rightly expect a rebuttal of some kind.” He shook his head. “You see, your honor, the ambition now, which was discovered and aroused by our Resolves of last May, is to attain an entelechy of liberty. The present arrangement between the colonies and the mother country is pregnant with that potential, but it also discourages and actively confounds the realization of that ambition.”

“How so, sir?’

“To begin with, our trade and commerce are prisoners of the navigation laws. They allow us no freedom to trade on more acceptable terms. As a consequence, the price the colonies must pay is exorbitant and artificial.” Hugh paused. “It is much like compelling a pauper to purchase a set of silver table implements for a lord, and as a consequence obliging the pauper to eat with his fingers, unable to find the coin to purchase even a wooden spoon.”

“That is too sharp a tale, sir!” objected Fauquier.

“Is it? You have knowledge of economics, your honor. Would you not
agree that the monies paid to many of the industries in Britain, who are the beneficiaries of those laws, would be better spent in other industries, which could swim on their own strengths, instead of relying on Danegeld? These industries would be genuinely profitable, and in no need of the protective shield of compulsory colonial requisition.”

After a pause, Fauquier cocked his head with interest, but said doubtfully, “It is a novel idea deserving of study.” Then he said, “But, Mr. Kenrick, even granting that what you say is true, why, the idea of the colonies securing a better policy from the mother country — well, look at the parties making all the noise! They are like the juries here and in England, composed of drovers, horse jockeys, innkeepers, retailers, and the like. Hardly students of political scholarship! And they are, I suspect, manipulated by merchants, smugglers, and unhappy clergy. At least, that is the case in Boston, to judge from the terrible descriptions of the ruckus that occurs there regularly.” He paused to shake a finger at Hugh. “Do not deny that the mobility is ranked and ordered, sir! I also have knowledge of
your
role in a similar affair here, concerning the stamps. I do not believe the good citizens of Queen Anne would have made such a show of unity without direction from
above
.”

“Perhaps not, your honor. And I do not deny my role in the affair. But many people not as well schooled as ourselves are like army privates and regular seamen. They need officers to direct their action and skills to the best effect. And, direction or no, they must move themselves, fired by a sense of themselves that no amount of schooling can imbue in any one person.”

They were silent for a while as the carriage rumbled on. Presently, on the Lieutenant-Governor’s prior instructions, the driver stopped at Capitol Landing. Hugh and Fauquier debouched and strolled along the bank. In the distance they could see the York River and some grayish white spots that were the sails of vessels gliding placidly on it.

Then Fauquier asked, “Why would they allow themselves to be so directed? I confess I simply do not understand the uproar, sir. Do you?”

Hugh shrugged. “The people have had a taste of true liberty, your honor. To borrow an analogy from a friend, they are like the prisoners of Plato’s cave, who have seen some light from above and what may be seen with it. They are no longer content to remain chained in the darkness of ignorance and crippled by the palsy of inaction. The Crown, they have realized, no longer needs be a centripetal influence in their lives and minds,
nor a justification for their existence.”

“Centripetal, you say?” countered the Lieutenant-Governor. “Dear sir, I see nothing but the violent
centrifugal
effects of a people throwing off their allegiances and civility! Anarchy, and destruction, and the extinction of decency!” Fauquier stopped and remarked with a sigh, “You are a man of rational demeanor, sir, a paragon yourself, though of calm logic. I asked to have a word with you with the aim of being reassured that all is not as it seems. But I am not reassured. I agree with you up to a point, about the disturbance those resolves have caused, and will continue to cause. I might even concede the legitimacy of some of your complaints. But I foresee a dire and chaotic future in this dominion, and on all this continent, if passions are not soon reined in.” Then he continued walking along the bank.

“It needn’t be chaotic, your honor. All the Crown needs do is sever past chains and refrain from forging new ones. Such an action would make Great Britain truly great, and would prosper in the bargain.”

“But so many people, high and low, depend on those…well, what you call chains. From lords to lackeys. From merchants to milkmaids.”

Again, Hugh shrugged. “Then they, too, can discover true liberty. As for the dependent dross, they will be obliged to find more gainful, honest employment.”

The Lieutenant-Governor frowned. “That is a
leveling
notion, sir!” he objected, some color coming to his face. The red contrasted violently with his immaculately white wig. “Altogether radical!”

“Radical? I concede that,” replied Hugh with a faint smile. He tried to recall that same remark from somewhere in his past, because the same offense had caused it. “Leveling, your honor? Or just?”

Fauquier stopped again and turned to study his companion. “Well, I expect that, in time, you will produce your own tract, perhaps on that very subject. Please be good enough to send me a copy of it. I will not be shocked by anything you may chance to say in it, and forgive you it. For now, though, enough of this political talk. It is frightening and tiring.” He gestured to the landau. “Let us return to the Palace. I must finish some duties, and,” he added, permitting himself a smile, “you neglect your bride. Will you attend the theater this evening? My secretary saw some of Mr. Hallam’s business last evening, and vouches his troupe is quite as good as any that may be seen in London. I may attend myself.”