Annie Proulx - Barkskins

“Oh, pshaw! Nothing compared to your exquisite collations — those blue dishes with gold rims.”

“You really are too kind, my dear. But, you know, four of them slid to a smash in that untoward earthquake a year past. We nearly fell out of the bed. I told Bernard that if this is one of the delights of New England I would prefer Chimborazo. I still do not understand how, if the tremor was located at Cape Ann as they say, it damaged so much in Boston.”

Mercy sighed and said, “I expect there will be more such grief in our days as human depravity continues to irk the Omnipotent.”

• • •

The evening wore on, Mercy several times raising her hand to her temple and sighing. At last she admitted what they all knew.

“My dear guests, what I dreaded has come to pass.” She called the slave girl to bring cold water and her headache powder.

“I must retire,” she said and went to a back room scented with orris root and reserved for headache recovery, murmuring general farewells.

“Poor Mercy,” said Sarah. “Those headaches are truly her cross. A pity after such an evening.”

“Yes, but a great deal of work. Mother is not really strong enough for this,” Patience said and waved her hand at the room and all that was in it.

The guests, taking the hostess’s retreat as a signal, began to leave by ones and twos. Nicolaus pressed their hands, made apologies for Mercy and begged them to come again soon on a happier occasion. Henk Steen the bookkeeper bowed, bowed and grinned as he backed toward the door. Nicolaus half-expected him to tug his forelock.

“Peace be with you and your syllabub,” murmured Joab Hitchbone, doddering down the steps.

Then the outsiders were gone except for Jan’s hollow-chested father-in-law, James Pickering, once a notorious molasses smuggler, and the judge, Louis Bluzzard. The judge’s trousers were too thin and emphasized the manly bulge, the more disturbing as he was elderly.

“Judge, do show my brothers that paper,” said Jan, his long fingers tapping the side of his rum glass. Jan was the one who clinched deals with merchants and arranged contracts; he worked out complex shipping arrangements. He had the duty of smoothing the ruffled feelings of men who were aggrieved by Duke & Sons’ business proceedings, in part because he had the dispassionate nature of one who cares for nothing, too often mistaken for neutrality. In his private mind he wished the ax for all royalists.

The judge passed around a rather grubby newspaper, the Pennsylvania Gazette . The page showed an illustration of a snake cut into many parts, each segment with the label of one of the colonies and the motto below, JOIN OR DIE.

“There are so many papers these days,” George said, rolling his eyes.

“Ha!” said Nicolaus. “That’s that fellow Franklin. I knew his brother James. A family distinguished for their seditious bosoms. Ben is back here or in Connecticut now and I can tell you that this joined colonial snake he calls for can never happen. There are too many here who are English to the bone, for all they were born here. And the tobacco colonies are markedly different from the fish and forest colonies.” For decades Duke & Sons had managed a precarious balance between their French allegiances and the new ambitious generation of American-born men. A separation of opinions was beginning to surface.

Young Piet ventured a comment. “The forest legislation the Crown has imposed on us has driven a wedge between colonists and England, has it not?” The older men ignored his dim-witted observation.

James Pickering, showing a violet silk waistcoat, spoke. “Let me remind you, dear friends, that this city harbored two of the regicide judges a century back. There are loyalists sprinkled about but the colonial heart desires independence and cherishes a distaste for kings and their men. It is nothing new. And is not forest legislation despised by all American businessmen?” He turned and spat gracefully into the fire.

Jan said, “The tangled situation grows more tangled every day. Louis, tell them what you told me.”

“Ah. That. I ventured to say that England’s plans of attack increase the danger to your forest property in Québec. When they take Québec they will take your woodlands.” The judge flicked a glance at Bernard. He considered him a little too fond of French Canada.

“Perhaps,” said Bernard, “but remember that New France has a strong militia. The regional troops are excellent and we have good aid from our Indians. Governor-General Pierre de Rigaud de Vaudreuil, I think, is intelligent and knows the country. I have heard that this Montcalm prefers to fight in European style, sieges and rigid opposing lines — Braddock’s great fault. But in New France we have developed the stealthy woodcraft style of the Indians.”

“That is the situation here as well,” said the judge, sneering a little. “Your French half-breeds are hardly singular in their fighting abilities. But beware — there are many houses in Boston where your opinions would sound as treason.”

Bernard ignored this dart. “I have heard also that Montcalm and Vaudreuil loath each other and show it openly.” He sighed. “When the French defeated and killed Braddock I thought that would be the end of it.”

The judge shook his head and gave a hard barking laugh. He stared at Bernard. “I think not. I thoroughly believe England will seize New France using colonial troops however long it takes. The battle on Lake George last September shows their perseverance.” His tone was combative.

Jan thought it time to raise the question. He looked at his son. “George, after your study of the law, what is your opinion on this difficult matter? Where should Duke and Sons bestow its allegiance? France or England?”

“Would it were that simple,” muttered Bernard.

“In our law readings this particular situation never arose, but there were several of us from the colonies who discussed it privately among ourselves.” George puffed himself up a little.

“And what did you think?” Bernard suspected that there in the heart of London studying English law, George would have been and probably still was an advocate for eternal obeisance to England.

“We thought that in terms of law and jurisdictions the colonies were drawing ever more distant from England. The veer became sharply evident in 1686, when the British government, concerned that we were growing too independent and too wealthy on our own abilities, sent Governor Andros to us and revoked our colonial charter.” Well, thought Bernard, so much for obeisance.

Nicolaus said, “After two generations of colonial self-government this was a gross error on their part. Nor did getting rid of Andros repair the situation.”

George boldly put in his oar. “And what do we have today! Englishmen in positions of power who make the decisions that affect us, who rarely know anything of the colonies, have no real experience here nor do they wish to have. They put forth their ukases and rules based on ignorance and self-interest. What matters to them is how much they can squeeze from the colony into their personal strongboxes.”

“It seems not so different in the example of France and New France,” said Bernard, rather surprised at lethargic George’s impassioned tone. “It may be the misfortune of all colonies.”

“If the rancorous discontent continues — well, I can point out a legal example that is particularly telling for Duke and Sons as it concerned cutting the forest.” George felt his importance.

“I wonder if I know your reference,” said Nicolaus, squinting his eyes. “Do you mean the Dregg case of about ten years ago?”

“No, I had in mind the Frost case — somewhat earlier than Dregg. In our private discussions we student colonials thought it an important case. It came up only once with the faculty. A lawyer at Inns of Court saw it as evidence of the sly and impudent colonial character.”