SH04_Empire Read online

  He designed and had constructed atop a pine tower at the side of the great house a water collection tank in order to have running water inside the house and the attached kitchen, and had iron pipes installed with taps and basins in many of the house’s rooms. He designed and had built an underground ice-cellar. He reduced the acreage devoted to tobacco — the market for the leaf had declined in Europe, at least temporarily — and planted more wheat and corn. His brickworks grew in reputation, and vessels called regularly at his pier to load pallets of the brick for customers as far away as Richmond and Fredericksburg. He journeyed to Philadelphia on business to see his and his father’s agents, Talbot and Spicer, to see Novus Easley, and for pleasure, to buy books not carried by the printers’ shops in Caxton and Williamsburg.

  One hot afternoon, the summer following Jack Frake’s marriage to Etáin, Reece Vishonn rode from Enderly to Meum Hall to broach again the idea of Hugh standing for burgess. Although William Granby could have retained the seat and probably won reelection even though he had already moved with his wife to Fredericksburg and another county, he had expressed no interest in continuing to represent Queen Anne County. And no one else had announced his candidacy for the vacant seat. With Vishonn was Edgar Cullis, the remaining burgess.

  The planter and his younger companion found Hugh on the top platform of the pine tower, wearing a straw hat and a carpenter’s apron that was heavy with nails, busy with another man hammering planks to the structure. Near the base of the tower were some thin, curved lengths of pine. Several workers were busy hewing and planing other lengths, while another group was engrossed in the task of fitting another length into a flat contraption that lay on the ground near the cooperage.

  Hugh did not notice his visitors until the worker with him spoke to him. He waved his hat at them, then climbed down from the platform. He rinsed his face and hands from a bucket of water, then strode over to the mounted men. “Good day, sirs,” he said in greeting. “To what do I owe this call?”

  Reece Vishonn nodded, but stared back at the tower and the activity around it. “What is it you’re putting up, Mr. Kenrick? A watchtower? Are you expecting Indian raids, or mischief by Mr. Swart?”

  Hugh laughed, and explained the work that was going on. “…It’s not so strange a machine, sir. There are several like it in London. Once it is assembled, we must treat it like a ship. We will caulk the seams inside and out, even though the tongues will fit into the grooves and the weight will help seal the whole. Then we must tar the inside wall as well, to prevent further leakage. That will give the water a slight taste, but they say tar water has medicinal qualities. But, see here,” he said, as he showed his visitors around the cooperage, and pointed to the flat, oaken device that held a single curved plank. “This is an idea I’ve adapted from how carriage makers up north fashion continuous rims for their wheels. Once a plank is ready, and its tongues and grooves finished, its length is forced into this mold and allowed to set until it assumes the necessary shape…. The tower vessels in London are rectangular, and their corners often spring leaks…. ”

  Edgar Cullis squinted in thought, and asked, “But, sir, how is water to get into this receptacle?”

  “By rainfall,” answered Hugh. “The roof, or lid, will have three wide funnels to collect it.” He grimaced. “Of course, I shall need to devise something to discourage birds from making nests over them.” He nodded to a pile of iron pipes that lay beneath the tower. “And, once the receptacle is finished, we shall connect the pipes. I’ve prepared two rooms in the house and the kitchen there to link the pipes with the tower.”

  “Those are not my pipes,” remarked Vishonn.

  “No, sir. I purchased those in Philadelphia, as well as the brass taps and the basins. Porcelain basins, no less.”

  Vishonn shook his head. “You, sir, are a wonder. Who would have imagined that London plumbing would ever come to Caxton?” With an admiring glance over the tower and the scene around it, he added, “I shall have to look into constructing one of these for Enderly, Mr. Kenrick.”

  “When you are ready to, I would be happy to offer my consultations.” Hugh waved his hat to the house. “Well, please come in, sirs. I shall ask Mrs. Vere to prepare some tea.”

  When they were settled in Hugh’s study, Reece Vishonn stated his business. He knew that his host frowned on chitchat and idle talk. He and Edgar Cullis sat in their chairs, teacups in hand, and waited for their host’s answer. The ticking of the floor clock was interrupted by the muffled hammering of the workers on the water tower.

  After a moment, Hugh smiled and said, “I have pondered for some time the question of whether or not I could tolerate a stint as burgess — provided I am elected. And, yes, I am willing to mount the hustings.”

  Vishonn breathed a sigh of relief, as did his companion. “Your election will be practically guaranteed, sir. You have more friends in this county than you may realize.”

  Hugh frowned, and took a sip of his tea. He asked, “Why solicit me, sir, and not, say, Mr. Frake?”

  Edgar Cullis chuckled, glanced once at his companion, then leaned forward and addressed Hugh. “I warned the gentleman that you would ask that question, Mr. Kenrick. Truly, I did.”

  The older planter by then had marshaled his thoughts, and cleared his throat. “Because, sir — and forgive me if I speak frankly about your friend, and mine — his views are too, well, violent. Written in stone, so to speak. I am in agreement with many of them, of course, but not all, mind you. However, there are many planters and freeholders here who would not agree with him on the quality of a leaf or ale, never mind any matter that concerns the Crown. I confess that I fear him, but only a little. Others, though, tremble at the thought of him speaking his notorious mind in the Assembly.” Vishonn assumed an apologetic look. “That is why we have never solicited Mr. Frake’s candidacy.”

  “But that is what the Assembly is for, sir,” said Hugh. “For our representatives to speak their minds.”

  Edgar Cullis shook his head. “Pardon me, sir, but not at the price of repeated prorogations by the Governor, which surely would happen every time Mr. Frake rose to speak. And that would happen if Mr. Robinson or Mr. Randolph or Mr. Wythe failed to move for a censuring of him.”

  Hugh grinned in concession. “You have answered half my question,” he said to the older planter. “And you have portrayed Mr. Frake as a kind of golem, when in truth he should be dubbed Gog to my Magog. My views are compatible with his in every aspect. Surely you know that.”

  Vishonn shook his head this time. “Not in every aspect, sir. Whereas you hold out hope of persuading the Crown of the value of these colonies — and of Virginia in particular — Mr. Frake seems resigned to the worst possible predicament, and is adamantly fatalistic in that regard.”

  “That is true, insofar as we differ about a resolution. But that is our sole difference.”

  “It is a difference that makes you a far more eligible candidate, sir.”

  “And a far more credible one,” added Edgar Cullis.

  “And now I answer the second half of your question,” said Vishonn. He rose and paced back and forth before Hugh’s desk. “It is through steadfast moderation that we have a chance to outflank and foil the forces that require our absolute obedience and observance of the Crown’s laws. There is a coolness in your wit, sir, that has seduced many of us in Caxton. And it is cool heads that will be wanted in the Assembly in the future. The Assembly is at this time roughly balanced between men of Mr. Cullis’s generation, and men of my own. Younger, hotter blood, however, is beginning to be returned by the counties, and these are impetuous youths who I believe would prefer to send fire-ships of rhetoric to king and Parliament over civil remonstrances and addresses. Their immoderate language could only invite reprimand and retribution.”

  Hugh put down his cup and saucer and thought for a moment. Then he asked, “If you believe that the Crown is of that character, why would you wish to clasp the hands of men whose first impulses are
reprimand and retribution, and not reason?”

  “We do not believe that all ministers are determined to bridle us, Mr. Kenrick,” said Edgar Cullis. “It is unthinkable that all the Crown’s men are hostile to the colonies, or are blinded by plain avarice. There are many in Parliament, too, in both Houses, who question the wisdom of Crown policies, past and contemplated.”

  Hugh’s face brightened, for two reasons. He thought of Dogmael Jones, member for Swansditch, and the coterie of allies he had drawn around him in the Commons. But he said, “You are mistaken, sir, only about the ministers and members of Parliament being blinded by avarice. Most of them know full well the motive and ends of their policies.” He had thought, too, of his uncle, and of Henoch Pannell, and Crispin Hillier. “Do not underestimate their determination to subjugate us, nor should you overestimate their capacity for civil persuasion. If they were so susceptible to reason and good sense, we should never know their names, nor feel the consequences of their actions, except if they wrote books on logic or music, or authored papers on anatomy or the best way to grow tobacco.”

  Vishonn cocked his head in studious concession, but which Hugh sensed was dismissal of an irrelevancy. He sat down again. “You are better acquainted with these gentlemen than we are, good sir, and we defer to your appraisal.”

  Hugh smiled again, and rose from his desk to pace thoughtfully behind it. Then he turned to his visitors, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Here is a sample of a speech I would likely make in the House, sirs. Please listen to it, and then tell me that you still wish me to run for burgess.”

  Vishonn and Cullis glanced at each other, then nodded.

  Hugh rubbed the palms of his hands together once, then spoke. “Does not the Board of Trade behave like another unelected legislature, so that we, the unenfranchised liege subjects of His Majesty, are cornered by both it and Parliament? Are not the Board and Parliament two horns of the Crown bull that, in turn or together, regularly gore us, so that the weighty beast can more easily grind and crush us beneath its hooves?”

  Hugh paused to observe the reaction of his visitors.

  Vishonn and Cullis regarded their host now with patent doubt. They stared up at him with wide, startled eyes.

  Hugh waved a hand. “All magazine caricature aside — we are not represented in Parliament, sirs, and so cannot oppose and counsel the Board’s nefarious depredations. We are unable to box the ears of their lordships who sit on that Board by proposing in the Commons that their arrogance be rewarded by censure and a reduction of their munificent salaries. Nor are we represented by anyone on that Board, for no prince or lord has originated in these colonies, no ancestral vassal from these shores ever joined with his peers to force King John to set his mark upon the Great Charter. Nor has anyone native to these shores ever been invited to sit on it.” Again, Hugh grinned in mischief. “You must concede, gentlemen, that a Duke of Pennsylvania, an Earl of Massachusetts, or a Marquess of Virginia would be a nomenclature ludicrously alien to ears on both sides of the Atlantic.”

  He paused again, to allow the humor to register on the faces of his listeners. But their faces remained stolidly amazed. He resumed a grave expression. “And so, no British-American ever can or ever will be appointed to that Board, thus denying us a voice on it to caution the Commons against the reprobating laws passed there. Therefore, I move that this House appoint a committee to compose a petition to Parliament, or to a group of liberty-minded members of it, to make it an order of its natural business to discuss the begging necessity of colonial representation in that august body. For surely, sirs, there is room enough in that cramped chamber for a dozen or so more bodies! It is not so frequently attended by all the members that those guilty of habitual delinquency could object to a colonial bench!” Hugh addressed Edgar Cullis. “Sir, will you be so gracious as to second my motion?”

  An inarticulate groan emanated from the burgess’s throat, sounding like a hiccup. Reece Vishonn merely blinked.

  Hugh chuckled. “Thank you, sir.” He reached down and took a last sip of his tea, then sat down again behind his desk. “But, fear not, sirs. You know that in both Parliament and our own House, no quorum-approved measure is ever countenanced by vote without it first being dissected by a committee. And when good, unprecedented ideas are referred to a committee, they either suffer death in it, or are subjected to the unguent of moderation. It is a matter of unimaginative men faced with the inconceivable, the unthinkable, the unthought-of. Committees, I am told, by their nature usually settle for the familiar. If they are assigned the unenviable task of how best to frame an unfamiliar measure — such as a formal protest against an action of the Board of Trade, or an Order in Council, or a Parliamentary law — a committee must answer the question of which style of protest would serve their purpose, yet not embolden the wolf lurking in the woods that border their pastured minds. There are only two styles open to them: the fire-ships of staunch outrage, or servile pleas for mercy and amity. Should they risk provoking an immediate attack by disputing the wolf’s appetite, power, and purpose, or meekly grant him humble license and leave to make unopposed forays to gnaw on our innards at his riskless leisure?”

  Hugh rose again to pace before his visitors, and spoke as though he were thinking out loud. “Of course, the issue I cite here is a moot one. Colonial representation in Parliament is an inadmissible incongruity, and will bedevil the man who attempts to champion it. The redundant, disabling term in it is colonial. I would not fault the first minister or secretary of state who expounded on the impracticality of the notion. Colonial representation is as much an oxymoron as a crutched horse. For, you see, the colony that secured representation in Parliament would cease being a colony, and instead be recognized as a county, or an extraordinary borough.” He sighed, and glanced at the worried expressions on his visitors’ faces, though he did note in them a dim comprehension of his point. “But what turmoil such a prospect would cause in men’s minds! Even the dullest members of that body would be tossed and buffeted by squalls of thought! Why, Parliament would be obliged to redefine itself, and in the course of that momentous task, be forced to contemplate the abandonment of certain ancient and burdensome aspects of its character…. ”

  Then he seemed to remember his visitors, and turned to them. “Well, sirs, I hope that my rehearsal has not frightened you. Am I still your preferred candidate?”

  Reece Vishonn, after a moment to recover from the onslaught of words, nodded. “You are, sir. Most certainly. While you offered a brace of novel ideas — some of which I have heard discussed before — you have proven yourself a model of realistic moderation.”

  Edgar Cullis cleared his throat. “I agree with Mr. Vishonn. You would make an excellent voice for moderation. You are able to convey the terrible aspects of an ogre — or a wolf, as you call it — yet still communicate, to those disturbed by it, what a fraudulent phantasm it is.”

  “A phantasm, Mr. Cullis?” replied Hugh. “Hardly that. Last week I received letters from my father and some acquaintances about the passage of two new acts.”

  His visitors sat up in their chairs with new interest.

  Hugh said, “Obviously, news of their enactment has not yet arrived here. One act reduces the levy on sugar from six to three pence, but adds a number of items to the enumerated list — various spirits, cloths, and finished goods from regions not within the Crown’s realm. It also removes from colonial courts all jurisdiction over customs suits and places it under a vice-admiralty court in Halifax, and the new rules governing the seizure of cargoes, landed or not, are harsh and laden with penalties. Further, this act virtually indemnifies customs officers from fault and liability, even in the event the vice-admiralty court finds that an officer is a notorious blackleg guilty of embracery.”

  “I was not aware of that act,” said Edgar Cullis.

  “Nor I,” said Reece Vishonn.

  “The other act, also passed in April, abolishes all colonial currency as legal tender to pay debts to me
rchants in England. Henceforth, all debts to them must be paid in undiscounted sterling.”

  “Bosh!” exclaimed Vishonn, his face flushing red. “Where are we to get such money? How many people here have even seen a piece of British copper or silver, let alone carried one in their purses? That is an outrageous expectation! We should all be reduced to living in hovels! We should not be able to establish any credit, ever!”

  “This is true,” said Edgar Cullis. He added, tentatively, “I am not happy with the interference with our courts, either. That constitutes an ominous presumption.”

  Hugh merely smiled again, remembering his visitors’ sentiments on “moderation.” He sat down again and idly twirled his brass top. “The letters also report that Mr. Grenville has been polling ministers, merchants, and even colonial legislatures about the feasibility of a tax on legal documents and other paper instruments, such as attorneys’ licenses and bills of lading, and even newspapers, which tax would entail the purchase of a stamp to be affixed to the document in question. The implication is that any document that does not bear a stamp, would have no force in a court of law.” He paused. “There’s interference for you, Mr. Cullis.”

  The burgess, usually suave and composed, shot from his chair and sputtered, “That’s…that’s…that’s an extortionate notion, if I ever heard of one!”

  “Are you certain of this information?” asked Vishonn with incredulity.

  “My sources are unimpeachable, sir,” answered Hugh. “They are in a position to know the ministry’s every thought and motion.”

  The floor clock struck four. Vishonn reached into a pocket and consulted his own watch. He snorted once in anger, then said as he rose from his chair, “Well, we shall need to talk of these events later. We will leave you now to finish your water tower. I believe the next step is to inform Sheriff Tippet of your intentions. He will write the Governor, asking for a writ ordering an election. When Mr. Tippet has received it, he will set a date for the poll, which will be posted on the courthouse door, noticed by Mr. Barret in the Courier, and announced at the close of each service by Reverend Acland. He is obliged by law to do that, you know. Very likely Mr. Tippet will schedule the election early in the fall, to coincide with court day here. In the meantime, you should cultivate the fellows who may vote for you. There are about sixty qualified electors in this county, most of whom live close to the town.”