New York_ The Novel - Edward Rutherfurd [130]
“What’s that?”
“I’m not a Loyalist, Mr. White. I’m a Patriot.”
Vanessa
JAMES MASTER COULD never have imagined, when he first came to London, that he would marry Vanessa Wardour.
Indeed, when it happened, all London was astounded. The young colonist was a handsome young fellow, certainly, and heir to a considerable fortune. But the lovely Vanessa Wardour was at the pinnacle of aristocratic society. No doubt, they supposed, she’d turn him into a country gentleman, or a man of fashion. But whatever she did with him, young Master could count himself exceedingly lucky to be taken, in almost a single step, from colonial obscurity to the innermost circles at the apex of the empire.
James was very proud of being British. It was how he’d been brought up. With what rapture, when his parents had first taken him to London, he’d listened to Ben Franklin as the great man described Britain’s imperial destiny. How overjoyed he’d been to go to Oxford, to enjoy its stately quadrangles and dreaming spires, and to imbibe the knowledge of ancient Greece and Rome that was proper to an English gentleman.
For when Englishmen walked through London’s classical streets and squares, or took the waters at Bath, when aristocrats made the Grand Tour to Italy and commissioned Palladian country houses back at home, or when politicians made fine speeches full of Latin tags, how did they see themselves, if not as the honest, sturdy heirs of ancient Rome? To be an English gentleman, in an age when Britain’s empire was expanding, was a fine thing indeed; and young men in such a position might be forgiven for feeling a sense of superiority.
It was natural, too, when Englishmen considered how to manage their widespread territories, that they should look to the Roman Empire for a model. And how was the mighty Roman Empire governed? Why, it was ruled from Rome, of course. Provinces were conquered, Roman peace established and governors sent out to rule them. The barbarians were given the benefits of civilization, and they were grateful for them. What more could they want? As for laws and taxes, they were decided by the emperor, the senate and people of Rome.
It was a splendid thing for young James Master to join such an elite.
True, now and then, he was reminded that his status was in question. A lighthearted remark from some fellow Oxford undergraduate: “Come on, Master, you damned provincial.” Or an expression of friendship: “Don’t mind that James is a colonist—we count him as one of us.” Words spoken in jest, and not intended seriously—yet proving all the same that, in their hearts, young British gentlemen did not consider an American their equal. James took such occasional teasing in good part. If anything, it made him all the more determined to join the exclusive British club.
Back in London after university, James had been happy. The Albions had long been his second family. He and Grey had been together at Oxford for a year, and it had been pleasant for him to act as mentor to the younger fellow. In London, too, he led the way. Especially when it came to women.
James was very attractive to the gentler sex. With his tall good looks, his undoubted fortune, and pleasant, easy manners, he was much in favor with young ladies looking for a husband, and with older women looking for something less permanent. True, the younger ladies might acknowledge, it was a pity his fortune was in the colonies. But perhaps he would stay in London, or at least do as a number of other rich New York merchants did, and maintain a house in both cities. Besides his Oxford education, his views on life seemed to be sound. He loved London, was strong for the empire, and when it came to the radical mobs that troubled both London and New York, he was quite decided. “They must be dealt with firmly,” he would say. “They are a threat to good order.”
Unsurprisingly, in these circumstances, James Master had a very agreeable time.
It was one day in summer when Grey Albion suggested that James join him and his friend Hughes for dinner. James met them at